"I'm sorry, Mr. Jonas. But I've tried to change." The supervisor snorted again. "And you get so darned serious about that, too! Look, nobody wants you to change. We re going to need all types. There's room out here for the heroic adventurer, and someday we'll need the men who consider it business, not adventure. But I suspect you're the kind who'll settle the Moon and make it habitable someday—when you grow up enough to take your troubles as something that won't last forever. Stop sweating and stewing. The world isn't coming to an end today!"
"Then get me out of here," Jim suggested. "They put me here to get me out of gravity. But there's no gravity pull on the construction site, either. I can do paper work, or something."
"I'll see what I can do," Jonas promised. "I guess you make a little sense there, at that. Only stop trying so hard at everything you do!"
"I'll try," Jim said. And then, at Jonas' grin, he realized he'd fallen into a trap. But how could a man stop trying too hard without working hard at it?
Perez fussed and fumed, examining the leg, but at last he nodded. "You're healing splendidly. I think it's probably going at least twice the usual rate. All right, I'll let you go out if you'll promise to be careful."
Jim was more than willing to be careful. He tried to find out when healing would be finished enough for him to return to full duty, but the doctor wouldn't commit himself. It might be within the two weeks, he admitted—but it might not.
Still, it felt good going back. Nora moved the taxi as if the slightest acceleration would crush him, but he didn't feel a thing. And Thorndyke seemed glad to have him take over the work of checking off progress against the charts and keeping track of supplies. It was awkward getting about with only his hands, but he learned the trick, and was even able to get outside the shack, once he was helped into his space suit.
The survey ship was coming along rapidly. It was enough like the ferry to present no special problems, and a gang of ten men was enough to push it through— which made for more closely co-ordinated work. Thorndyke let Jim supervise most of what remained. Jim found that being unable to do any of the work himself was a help rather than a hindrance. It made it easier to consider the other men's jobs.
The survey ship would consist of three globes, fastened together with light girders, with a converted motor from one of the third stages at the rear. Two of the big globes would hold the hydrazine and nitric acid, while die front globe would contain all supplies for the ten-day trip, as well as the cameras needed for the survey mapping.
Now Jim began to hope. Dr. Perez examined him every second day, clucking happily over the healing. Apparently the doctor was busy writing a paper on it for some medical journal, and as excited over that as Jim was about the ships.
"When?" Jim asked him again.
This time Perez grinned, instead of putting him off. "By the time you've finished the survey ship, Jim; that last gamma picture shows the bone all knit right now. I just want it to have a little more time. Then some exercise to make up for all this inactivity—though that isn't as important out here as it would be on Earth." Perez grinned again. "Now are you satisfied?"
Jim was more than satisfied. He got Perez' promise that the doctor would report on his condition to Jonas and went back to work, happier than he had been for a long time. He still couldn't be sure that he'd be the one selected for the trip. They might decide on a lottery. But. . .
He realized then that he didn't even know who the other pilots would be. But Thorndyke had the answer to that. "You, of course. And then Gantry and Mark."
"Gantry?"
"He's on the list."
It was a surprise. But as Jim considered it, less of a surprise than it might have been. Somehow Gantry had done it again. Out of the list of pilots with everything in their favor, he'd managed to prove his ability in spite of weight and age. Jim was glad for him.
"Gantry'll be in command, among the three of you," Thorndyke volunteered. "Or so I hear."
"Does that mean he'll get first chance at taking the survey ship out?"
Thorndyke stared in surprise, and then shook his head. "I guess they didn't tell you anything, Jim, while they had you strapped down. Come along. Hey, easy! Want to break a leg again?"
Jim relaxed. It seemed harder now for him to remember his leg than for others—probably because the splints served as a visible reminder for them. It felt almost as good as ever. He let Thorndyke help him into his suit, and they drifted over to the pile of material for the survey ship, where Thorndyke pointed.
"The big crate," the foreman said over the phones.
It had been pried open already, and some of the bracing had been removed, indicating the men were about ready to install it. Jim stared at it doubtfully, thinking at first that it was an automatic mapping camera. Then he caught sight of the wiring diagram etched into it. It was a maze of transistors and electronic parts, with what seemed to be space for miles of control tape.
"It looks a little like an automatic pilot," he said. Then he stared again, realizing that it must be exactly that. But there was no reason to use an automatic on this job. Unless . . .
"You're right," Thorndyke told him. The foreman's body jiggled about under his head as he nodded, compensating for the motion; but it was easier to grow used to that than to break the habit of making gestures. "The Army's come up with a control system they think foolproof, and they've sent it out for the trip. There won't be any other pilot on this."
"But Jonas told me there would. That's why they bothered with the oxygen and food supplies for this ship," Jim protested.
"Jonas had nothing to do with it," Thorndyke said. "It came through Halpern. Don't forget that this whole expedition may be in civilian hands, but the government's footing the bill, and what they say goes."
Jim stared down at the metal monster that had replaced him. He could admire it, and realize how important such devices might be someday. But right now, he was almost ready to hate it. Then he squared his shoulders.
It hadn't beaten him yet. If a man like Gantry could win a place as head of the big jump when he was considered a hundred pounds too heavy and twenty years too old, there was always a chance. And at least the metal device couldn't fight back.
Besides, Halpern owed him a favor for his watching over Freddy. He'd never expected to ask repayment, but this situation had changed all that.
He had to see Halpern, and the sooner the better.
Chapter 9
Automatic Computer
im found the colonel in his office, together with Dr.
y
Charkejian and one of the station scientists. There was quite a to-do made over Jim's leg, but the others were just leaving, and Jim waited until they were gone. Then Halpern shoved a cup across to him and poured coffee.
"Glad you can get around, Jim. I was about ready to ground Freddy for good, after what happened." "It wasn't really his fault," Jim protested. "I hope not. Umm, know what Charkejian and Moss have done? You might be interested in it. They've put together bits of our science with that of the Combine and come up with a method for making a positive identification of living vegetation under sunlight. And they've found that there's some form of life around the canals we've finally succeeded in photographing on Mars. Proof of it!"
No piece of purely theoretical science could have meant more. It had been good to have proof that there were canals on Mars—though they couldn't know what made them—but the knowledge of other life in the solar system was even better. It made a trip to Mars in the future almost certain.
But at the moment, Jim's mind was too filled with the nearer trip, and Halpern seemed to sense it. "What's up, Jim? You look as if you wanted something. I owe you quite a bit, so ask away."
His face sobered as he listened to Jim's request to go in place of the automatic computer. He shook his head, when Jim was finished.
"I'd be glad to, Jim, if I had the authority. But it's out of my hands." He made a vague gesture toward Earth below them. "Down there they feel we'll
learn more with a chance to test their robot brain. And they don't want to risk sending a man that far out until they know more about conditions. With the brain there and radio controls from here, they figure the trip can be purely unmanned."
"Sure, I suppose they could do it," Jim agreed. "But why take chances? Maybe a robot brain can do a better job of piloting than I can. But suppose something goes wrong. Suppose it should hit a meteorite? A man could patch the hull and correct any error in the course. But this thing couldn't. Anyhow, radar contact is no good, once it gets to the other side of the Moon."
"All that was argued out down there by both sides. I have to operate on the orders I have," Halpern said. It was clearly a flat denial.
"But suppose you had a volunteer? They wouldn't have to take the responsibility in my case."
Halpern shook his head. "I'll put it up to the higher authorities again, but I don't think you have a chance. Anything else I can do for you?"
There wasn't, as far as Jim was concerned. He left as soon as he could and headed back toward the hub, until he heard his name being called. It was Dr. Ernst Charkejian.
"Why the scowl, Jim Stanley?" he asked. "I could see it all the way from the commissary."
Jim considered, still uncertain of the man's position here. He seemed to be completely accepted, and to be working with no thought of national rivalries. But there was no positive proof. Then Jim realized it didn't matter. The knowledge of the trip was spread thoroughly by now, and what he might do was of no great concern.
Charkejian listened sympathetically. When Jim was finished, he considered it. "Looks bad for you, eh? Umm. I'd say your best chance lies with the idea of the meteor hit. And there isn't too much chance of that. Still. . . Like to have me estimate the possibility of a hit and give it to the colonel? And I might be able to shade it a bit in your favor. I guess my reputation can stand that much strain."
"But why should you?" Jim asked, before realizing it might sound wrong.
Charkejian grinned, taking no offense. "Why not? I think you know that men have to get along in space and in science. Well, I know it too. Back on Earth we might be against each other someday. But up here, I'd rather be friends. Okay?"
It was more than okay with Jim. And some of his suspicion vanished.
He heard later through Freddy that Charkejian kept his word, bringing a long report to the colonel the next day, in which he proved that there was a chance for such a meteorite collision. But apparently it fell on deaf ears below. Freddy brought out a note from the astrophysicist, in which the man admitted that his report had done no good.
"But keep up hopes," the note finished. "I am still doing what I can to see that man shall not be replaced by robots!"
His written speech was stilted, unlike his spoken English. It was an odd reversal from the normal, until Jim realized that it probably came from the heavy tone of scientific writing, rather than from Charkejian's native tongue.
Jim forgot the note then. No matter how well Charkejian meant, what could he do? If Halpern couldn't convince the authorities, there was no chance for another man—and one from the Combine—to change their minds. Jim's first flush of determination had long since vanished.
But robot or man, something had to guide the ship around the Moon, and the sooner that was finished, the nearer they would be to the real trip. Perez finally admitted that Jim's leg was back to normal, and Jim pitched into the job of getting the little ship finished. The automatic computer hadn't been installed yet-that would have to be done by a specialist from Earth—nor had the supplies for the human pilot been removed. Jim was putting that off until the final moment, still nursing a few vague hopes.
Freddy seemed to be settling down and learning more all the time. Jim and Nora were beginning to grow fond of the boy, as Thorndyke seemed to be. Freddy was doing most of the taxi jockeying now, leaving Jim free to work on the survey ship, and he was doing a good job.
"Charkejian's been writing to the big shot over there," the boy reported to Jim. "Dad has to censor all his reports, so I know. And the last letter was all about you and how you want to take the ship to the Moon. You think it's some code, or is he really interested?"
"I think he's on the level," Jim answered, with only a small doubt. He couldn't see much use in filling up pages for Peter Chiam with his troubles. But there was no use in using them to fill in a code, either. "Does your father know you have to tell everything you hear, Freddy?"
The boy laughed. "Oh, he kicks me out when there's any really secret stuff. That's why I know I don't have to worry about the rest. Jim, is there room for two on that ship? Because I'd be glad to help you pilot it."
"When we get that robot in, there won't be room for one,'' Jim told him. There was room enough for three or four now, but he didn't want the boy building up false hopes. He'd had enough experience of his own with what happened when they broke.
Jonas came out to inspect the ship, more from interest than any official duty, when they finished with everything but the removal of the supplies to make room for the automatic computer. He had learned to handle himself fairly well in space, though he could never become as proficient as a younger man with less firmly fixed habits.
"It looks like a nice job, Jim," he said. "And maybe you're learning. Thorndyke tells me you supervised this without any trouble."
Jim hadn't thought too much about it, but he realized that the men had followed his suggestions automatically, and that they were nearly a day ahead of schedule. It felt good, though he knew the fact that he'd been crippled had made it easier at first, and that handling ten men was easier than running a whole crew.
"I suppose we'll have to get things ready for the computer?" he asked finally.
But Jonas didn't nod as he'd expected. The older man stared at the packaged mechanical brain doubtfully. "I don't know, Jim. I'd wait. There are new developments. Something's been buzzing behind the scenes at the World Congress, and they've put in a request to have a neutral observer aboard the ship when it rounds the Moon. They've got a young Swiss who has passed all the tests, too. Maybe you'd better leave it alone until we see what happens."
"You mean there's still a chance?" Jim asked.
"No—I don't know. Their request was based on the fact that this would be automatically piloted, and that Pierotti—that's the name of the man—was willing to accept the discomforts. But you'd better leave the supplies in, anyhow."
But later, when Jim visited the station to get more news, Halpern confirmed the fact that permission had been given, finally. He was surprised, and doubtful of the whole thing, but apparently the efforts to keep the good will of the smaller nations required that the government should give in on this request.
Pierotti arrived the next trip up. By then the newspapers had learned enough about him to know that he was a highly skilled international lawyer and mediator who had had a fair part in a number of settlements between countries. But from the way he managed to handle himself in space, Jim suspected that he'd gotten some rocket experience somewhere. He was of medium height, but very slender and wiry.
Jim liked him, and he noticed that Mark Emmett had already reached a friendly basis with the man. Pierotti's English was marred by only a slight tendency to make most of the sounds too clearly, but nobody noticed after the first few minutes.
Halpern greeted him and made him at home, before retiring with the official mail Mark had brought up. Jim was heading back for the taxi when Halpern's aide came running after him, summoning him back.
Charkejian was in Halpern's office, grinning as if he'd just won one of the long chess games he frequently played. The colonel was frowning. Now he tossed over one of the letters.
"Permission has been granted at the request of the Combine for them to have a man on the survey," he said. "And they've picked Dr. Charkejian. I don't know how much pressure was used, but it must have been plenty. Jim, did you have anything to do with this—did you put Dr. Charkejian up to it?"
Charkejian
laughed and shook his head at Jim. "Not in any way he knew," he answered. "It's true, I appealed indirectly to our leader for him. And with world conditions as they are, I thought it might be possible for your government to grant our requests, rather than staging any debates. There are many things that can be done when two nations are going through a lull in their hostility. I felt sure our leader would guess my thought."
"Apparently it worked. Maybe you should have been in the diplomatic corps," Halpern said. But he seemed less annoyed now.
"I was," Charkejian told him. "For quite a few years. And I've attended a good many international scientific congresses. A man gets to know some of the ropes that way."
Jim couldn't see any sense in it. Nor could he see where he was mixed up in it. "What good would it have done me to suggest this, even if I'd thought of it, Colonel Halpern?"
Charkejian laughed again. "Jim, do you think your government is going to let the two of us—Pierotti and myself—go on that ship without making sure they've got one of their own citizens there? I'm sure Colonel Halpern can answer that."
"We're sending a pilot, of course," Halpern agreed. "I have orders for three men to go. But I still can't get your angle on this, Dr. Charkejian."
The scientist leaned back against his chair, half closing his eyes. "You never grew up in the slums of my little native town, then, looking at the stars my ancestors first named five thousand years ago, and dreamed as I dreamed. I want to go. And besides, I never told you I wasn't loyal to my own country. When Director Chiam asked me to make all attempts to repay Jim Stanley for his rescue, I accepted that as part of my job here. Chiam comes from a people who feel the obligation of a favor very deeply, Colonel Halpern. And he hasn't lost that, though he's adopted most of the rest of civilization. When Jim wanted to go on that trip, it was my duty to try every way to make sure he went." He paused, then smiled. "Besides, it's to our advantage to have this an international trip, rather than a purely American one. Maybe to the advantage of the world. It won't hurt the people to see international co-operation here."
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