His speed was twenty-five miles a second. It could have been much more than that — the ship could probably make one hundred miles a second. Once in space there is nothing to impede acceleration and, within limits, the more fuel you employ the faster you travel. But such speed was not necessary for the lunar trip. At a distance of 241,000 miles, the moon was only a jaunt. He’d cover that distance in considerably less than three hours, and with blast-off and landing time included, it would be not much more than three hours and a half.
The dash from Luna to the asteroids would amount to something else, for there the distances would really be astronomical. But he’d worry about that later.
Less than two hours later, Pete sat down at the controls. The moon swelled in the foreport, a pale white globe with darker markings spotted over its stir-face. But he hardly saw it. Instead, he fired his lateral rockets once, and again once. The sudden acceleration gave him weight, and the concussions jarred him back against his cushioned chair. Then he did watch the moon, through pain-slitted eyes. It had to swing around behind him, relatively speaking; or, actually, he had to make a full one-hundred-eighty-degree turn.
A signal light flashed on and off overhead and a whistle went “beep-beep-beep!” — which meant the turn had been concluded. Smiling, Pete slammed home the entire bank of rocket studs. With his back facing the moon, he was pushed against the seat and squeezed. Bad, yes, but the blast-off had been far worse, fighting a gravity several times stronger than the moon’s.
And then Pete began to coast in over the scarred surface of Earth’s satellite. He could land at Luna Base, where all the other Cadet ships had gone — no! If he did he would not be able to explain how he came into possession of the ship, and more than likely they’d send him back to Earth on the first commuter-rocket.
Some five hundred miles east of Luna Base stood the gaunt, high ring-wall of Tycho crater. In its center, nestled in the crater mountains, the dome of Lunar Observatory gleamed brightly, a shining speck far below him. The astronomers used only a hundred-inch telescope at Lunar Observatory, but their observations were far more accurate because the moon had no atmosphere to interfere with vision. The lunar astronomers led a cloistered life. They kept a rocket and fuel for emergencies, but otherwise they remained pretty much to themselves, so an unexpected visitor might be able to glean some fuel from them.
Pete brought the ship down smoothly, not half a mile from the dome. He climbed into his spacesuit, adjusted the fish-bowl helmet over his head, activated the air-lock mechanism. In a few moments he stood outside, on the surface of the moon.
The horizon seemed impossibly close, the moon’s small diameter could account for that. Powdered pumice stirred soundlessly underfoot. Overhead, the harsh rays of the sun baked down during the lunar day, with no atmosphere to intervene. Temperatures might rise to two hundred degrees above zero, Fahrenheit, and more, only to sink far below zero during the long lunar night which would follow.
Pete took a step toward the dome, and wound up spinning end over end before he landed, flat on his back! Lunar gravity being one-sixth of Earth’s, you had to learn how to walk all over again. You had to walk carefully, almost delicately, as if you were treading on a carpet of glass goblets and did not want to break a single one. Slowly, painfully, Pete made his way forward, now tumbling in a heap, now soaring ten or twenty feet above the surface of the moon. At any other time he might have thought it amusing, but he knew he had to hurry, and every moment’s delay might mean. . . .
He refused to think about it —
In fifteen minutes he reached the ground-level airlock of the dome, pushed his hand against the single stud he found there and waited. Presently, the outer door of the airlock swung in, revealing a tunnel perhaps ten paces long. Pete stepped within, turned and saw the door close behind him. Ahead, at the far end of the tunnel, was another identical door. It did not open until a red light blinked over it, signifying that air, heat, and pressure had filled the tunnel. Then, as the inner door swung back, Pete walked through and as he did so, began to remove his spacesuit.
Within the dome, a tiny village had been set out, almost, it seemed, in miniature. The two dozen pre-fabricated houses could each contain no more than two or three rooms, and from this distance the general store looked like a mighty interesting place. In the center of town stood the great metal girders supporting the giant reflector, the whole encased in heavy glass.
People stood talking in the few narrow streets. Others carried packages from the general store. Pete saw one woman pruning a rosebush in a shallow box of earth. Then, suddenly, a voice startled him:
“Hello, young man.”
“Hello.”
“We saw your ship coming in, and naturally we were interested. It isn’t often that a ship reaches us here. We’re astronomers and the world seems to forget about us — except for the reports we issue. Incidentally, I am Dr. Heidler, a sort of expert on extra-Galactic nebulae. How do you do, uh — ?”
“Hodges, Dr. Heidler. Peter Hodges.”
“Did you lose your way, young man? Were you supposed to land at Luna Base or something?”
“No. I didn’t intend to reach Luna Base. I came here because I wanted to.”
“That is interesting. Did you want to see our observatory, is that it?”
“I’d like to. I sure would.” And Pete meant that. “But I haven’t the time.”
“No? What’s your hurry? You landed here and now you’re in a hurry to leave. Frankly, I do not understand.” Dr. Heidler was a short,, stocky man with sparse white hair, a pair of spectacles which were too small for him and a round, cherubic face. He spoke with a vaguely German accent.
“It’s simple,” Pete told him. “I came here for fuel — and food.”
“That does not make it simple, Mr. Hodges. Why could you not get those items at Luna Base?”
“I couldn’t. That’s all I can say. But it’s important, very important. A man’s life might hang in the balance.”
“And is that all you will tell me about it?”
“That’s all I can tell you.”‘
“Are you a criminal?”
“No, I’m not. Dr. Heidler, I’ve said that a man’s life is in the balance. I wasn’t fooling. And every second of delay means —”
Dr. Heidler’s eyes twinkled behind the small spectacles, almost merrily. “Look at yourself! Look at yourself! You are in need of sleep or certainly of a hearty meal. Yet you want to dash off into the sky somewhere. Well, we will talk about that later. First, I must take you home with me for at least a meal. Come.”
All Pete’s protests were of no avail. Dr. Heidler grabbed his arm in a gentle but firm grip and steered him toward one of the rows of small houses.
The woman pruning her rosebush proved to be Mrs. Heidler, a portly, pleasant individual who seemed, to Pete at least, of old German peasant stock. After introductions, Dr. Heidler said, “We are to feed Mr. Hodges a fine meal, Mama, and then Mr. Hodges and I are to talk business.” Then: “Is Emma home from school yet? Good. Emma can help.”
Emma turned out to be a surprise. She was about seventeen and had the bluest eyes Pete had ever seen, and the blondest hair. She was lithe and thin and very pretty, and it certainly seemed that life on the moon agreed with her.
“How do you do, Mr. Hodges?”
“Miss Heidler,” Pete nodded curtly. “Folks, I appreciate all this, but honest, I’m in an awful hurry —”
Mrs. Heidler could be just as firm as her husband. She convoyed Pete to a table, chuckled when he plunked down hard on the wooden chair, then said:
“You will eat and that is all there is to it. The stew is finished now, anyway.”
“And I,” Dr. Heidler beamed, “I guarantee you a treat. It is a rare dish, this Hungarian stew, called goulash.”
Pete could smell the delicious aroma now, and, in spite of himself, he realized he was hungry. He ate rapidly, while Emma and the two elder Heidlers sat down to join him, smiling as they watched.<
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“I thought you said you weren’t hungry!” Emma laughed.
“I didn’t say that —” between mouthfuls of the succulent stew —”it’s just that I’m in a hurry. Umm-mm, this is good.”
“I told you so,” Dr. Heidler beamed proudly.
After the stew, Pete had a glass of milk and a generous portion of homemade apple pie. Again, between mouthfuls: “Hey! My mother can’t do any better than this.”
“The apples cannot be had often, for they are shipped whole from Earth,” Dr. Heidler explained. “But it is a rare treat. Now, about your business —”
“I’ll need fuel,” Pete told him. “A lot of it. And concentrated food, enough for a couple of months.”
“It is a long journey you will be taking?”
“A very long one.”
“To Mars, perhaps?” demanded Emma, awed.
“Beyond Mars,” Pete said. “But please, I can say no more.”
“Then you are not permitted to say where you are going? Is that it?” Dr. Heidler asked.
“Yes.”
“And you want us to help you. How do we know this thing you plan is within the law?”
“It is. I can’t tell you how or why or what, but you’ll have to trust me. I’d pay for what I want, but I have no money. I can return later and —”
“Please! The money means nothing. Of fuel we have no need, and there is sufficient concentrated food here to last a lifetime. Water you may have, but sparingly.”
“Then you’ll give me what 1 need?”
“I did not say that. I do not yet know. Mama, what do you think? Emma?”
“I too do not know,” said Mrs. Heidler. “Obviously, he is doing something in secret. It might be dangerous, it might be that the law would frown on his plans.”
“Where are you going?” Emma asked him.
“Well, I guess I can tell you that much, in a general way. I’m going to the asteroids.”
“The asteroids?” exclaimed Dr. Heidler. “The asteroids, indeed! And do you intend to make your fortune there? That time is fifty years past, young man, when one could make his fortune on the mineral wealth of the asteroids.”
“That’s not why I’m going. I told you, a man’s life —”
“I — I like him!” Emma said suddenly. “He is a nice boy and I like him and I say you should give him what he wants.”
All this she said in one rush of words. Then, when her father started to laugh, she blushed. “Well, you asked for my opinion, so I gave it.”
No one spoke for a long time after that. Mrs. Heidler scurried about the table, clearing away the dishes. Emma stood with her back turned, and Pete could tell from the red glow on her neck that she was still blushing. Finally Dr. Heidler said:
“Sometimes, I suppose sometimes, it is like that. One has no way of knowing and one has to trust. I think I agree with Emma; yes, I agree with the girl. We will give Mr. Hodges what he desires.”
Emma whirled around, smiling radiantly. “Good!” she cried. “Oh, I’m glad!”
An hour later, Emma and Dr. Heidler joined Pete outside the dome. They both wore the big, shapeless spacesuits of the astronomical service, and they each carried several hundred pounds of equipment to add to the pile Pete had accumulated. Emma Heidler toted a two-hundred-pound drum of fuel which, on the moon, weighed something more than thirty pounds.
“If I did this on Earth,” she laughed through the intercom radio, “there’d be a job waiting for me in a circus!”
“You can live to a ripe old age on the moon,” Dr. Heidler agreed, “for you do not have to work so hard, thanks to the lesser gravity. I wonder how many people who live on the Earth and gaze up into the distant sky realize that. I wonder — but I am probably wasting your time, Pete.”
“Can’t you tell us something of what you’re going to do?” Emma asked. “I mean, it sounds mysterious, but I have a hunch it’s something good.”
“It’s something I have to do. I just hope I’m in time. Here, I’ll take that.” And Pete carried the fuel drum within his ship, returning in a moment to take in a barrel of food concentrate. I — I guess that’s it, and look, if I try to thank you, I won’t be able to thank you enough, so — well, I think you’re all swell . . .”
Dr. Heidler shrugged, “We like you, Pete. It is enough to be able to help you, and that is thanks enough.”
“Yes!” Emma cried. “oh, yes. . .”
They shook hands. After that, Dr. Heidler and his daughter wished Pete good luck, then they leaped and bounced across the pumice back toward their dome. They did not turn to see the ship roaring away into space, nor did they hear it, for the absence of an atmosphere on the moon precluded sound.
Chapter 18 — In the Swarm
Each of a thousand thousand tiny motes in the asteroid belt caught the sun’s light, unshielded by any intervening atmosphere, and reflected it back at Pete. Each one shone like an individual jewel, and this close, Pete could detect their swirling, chaotic movement. Each looked like a gleaming jewel — but each could be a deadly missile of destruction.
His guess about the spaceship’s speed had been correct. For three weeks the void around him had seemed changeless, but he had maintained a speed of one hundred miles a second, until, this “morning,” the asteroids had swept up in the forepart. Naturally, morning and evening, day and night, held utterly no meaning in changeless space, yet you had to consider them; you had to sleep a certain eight hours of every twenty-four; you had to eat a morning meal, an afternoon meal, an evening one. And so you brought a pattern to timeless space, and you watched the hours drag by.
Motion is a relative thing, and with no mileposts in space, velocity does not show itself. Distance covered has no meaning beyond the instrument board. Such-and-such a speed over such-and-such a length of time signifies a certain distance traveled. . . .
Until one morning the asteroids fill all space in front of the ship.
Garr — Garr was out there somewhere, waiting, hopelessly for the end. Somehow, that did not seem like the Garr he had known, not the cheerful, laughing, freckle-faced youth who had grown up with him at the Academy. But now Garr had no choice; helpless, he could only wait for death.
According to the news reports, Roger Gorham had indicated that Garr would attempt to repair his radio. In three weeks he might have been successful, and until now Pete had maintained radio silence. Further, if Garr could only beam a weak signal, Pete was now close enough to catch it.
Eagerly, he switched on his radio, called into the transmitter: “Pete Hodges calling Garr MacDougal. Hodges calling MacDougal. Come in if you hear me, Garr.”
Silence.
He tried again. And again. Then,, faintly:
“Pete! Am I hearing things, or is it really you? I don’t get it —”
“Garr! Garr, you’re alive!”
“You didn’t expect anything else, did you?” Garr was laughing, but around the edges, Pete could sense strain in his voice. “Are you calling from Ceres Base, Pete?”
“No.”
“Then I still don’t get it. There’s no delay in talking, and that means you’re close. Where else could you be?”
“I’m in a ship,” Pete said. “Slowing down now, about a hundred thousand miles from Section Seventeen. We’ll have you out of this in no time, Garr.”
Apparently, Garr did not think so. “Are you crazy? Get out of here! Beat it! I heard broadcasts from Ceres Base — it would be suicide to come in here for another three weeks. After that — well, then someone can cruise along and pick me up. But beat it!”
“You know darned well you probably won’t be around in three weeks.”
“We won’t talk about that, but there’s no sense in two of us getting it. I don’t know how you got out here in the first place, and I’m not going to ask.”
“‘Where in Section Seventeen are you?”
“Scram!”
“Don’t be silly. I can pick you up by radar, only it would be easier this way.
I’m coming in for you, Garr, one way or the other.”
“You crazy fool! That’s the way your brother got it. The same way. One in a family is enough, Pete. Get out!”
Pete sighed. “I don’t want to argue, it only wastes time. But you’d better understand one thing, I’m not pulling out of here without you.”
He could picture Garr shaking his head. “Be sensible, Pete. Even assuming you could reach me, just how do you intend to take me out?”
“Why, I’ll join airlocks with your ship. It’s a dangerous move and I know it, but that’s the way it can be done.”
“Think so? This airlock was smashed by a chunk of rock the size of a pumpkin. Got any other ideas? My ship is punctured like a piece of Swiss cheese, and I’ve been holed up inside my spacesuit for the last ten days. Try eating food concentrates that way sometime. It isn’t easy.”
“Okay!” Pete shouted triumphantly. “There’s your answer. As long as your spacesuits in one piece, we haven’t got a thing to worry about. I’ll find you, magnetize a chunk of metal and attach it to a coil of rope. I’ll toss the rope outside and the magnet’ll hold it to your ship. You just snake along the rope till you reach my airlock.”
“Sure,” Garr groaned. “Sure. But meanwhile, you’ve got to find Section Seventeen, and you’ve got to thread your way through it to me. That’s the rough part of it, Pete. You can’t. This place is crowded, and I mean crowded. Big chunks, little chunks, asteroids, meteors, pebbles — they’re all tumbling by. Not once in a while, but constantly. You’d never get through.”
“I’ve got a way with orbits, remember? All right, this isn’t much different. All I have to do is plot the orbit as I go along, changing it every time something gets in the way. Heck, I’ll have you out of there in no time, Garr.”
Garr snorted. “All right, okay. If I can’t change your mind, I can’t. But you’ll have to find me by radar, because I haven’t the slightest idea where I am. All my instruments went haywire. So — good luck, Pete. And . . . thanks.”
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