"I was just thinking.... They really got it made, Larry. They've got
better than three thousand square feet in the main dome and better than
twelve hundred square feet in each of the two little ones. And there's
only seven of them right now. That's living."
"They've been here six years longer, after all."
"Finogenov had a _clay_ samovar sent up. Lemon and nutmeg, too. Real,
by God, fresh lemons for the tea, the last time I was there. His own
office is about ten by ten. Think of that. One hundred square feet. And
a wooden desk. A _wooden_ desk. And a chair. A wooden chair. Everything
big and heavy. Everything. Weight, hell. Fifty pounds more or less--"
"They've got the power-plants for it."
"Do you think he did that deliberately?" Major Winship asked. "I think
he's trying to force us off. I think he hoped for the quake. Gagarin's
built to take it, I'll say that. Looks like it, anyhow. You don't
suppose they planned this all along? Even if they didn't, they sure got
the jump on us again, didn't they? I told you what he told me?"
"You told me," Capt. Wilkins said.
* * * * *
After a moment, Major Winship said bitterly, "To hell with the Russian
engineer."
"If you've got all that power...."
"That's the thing. That's the thing that gripes me, know what I mean?
It's just insane to send up a heavy wooden desk. That's showing off.
Like a little kid."
"Maybe they don't make aluminum desks."
"They've--got--aluminum. Half of everything on the whole planet is
aluminum. You know they're just showing off."
"Let me wire you up," Capt. Wilkins said. "We ought to report."
"That's going to take awhile."
"It's something to do while we wait."
"I guess we ought to." Major Winship came down from the bunk and
sat with his back toward the transmitter. Capt. Wilkins slewed the
equipment around until the emergency jacks were accessible. He
unearthed the appropriate cable and began unscrewing the exterior
plate to the small transmitter-receiver set on Major Winship's back.
Eventually, trailing wires, Major Winship was coupled into the network.
"Okay?"
"Okay," Major Winship gestured.
They roused Earth.
"This is Major Charles Winship, Commanding Officer, Freedom 19, the
American moonbase."
At this point, Major Winship observed for the first time that he was
now on emergency air. He started to ask Capt. Wilkins to change his
air bottle, but then he realized his communications were cut off. He
reached over and rapped Capt. Wilkins' helmet.
"This is the Cape. Come in, Major Winship."
"Just a moment."
"Is everything all right?"
Major Winship was squirming nervously, obviously perturbed.
"A-Okay," he said. "Just a moment."
"What's wrong?" came the worried question. In the background, he heard
someone say, "I think there's something wrong."
Capt. Wilkins peered intently. Major Winship contorted his face in a
savage grimace.
Capt. Wilkins raised his eyebrows in alarm. They were face to face
through their helmets, close together. Each face appeared monstrously
large to the other.
Major Winship made a strangling motion and reached for his throat. One
arm tangled a cable and jerked the speaker jack loose. Major Winship
could no longer hear the alarmed expressions from the Cape. The effort
was not entirely subvocal, since he emitted a little gasping cry in
involuntary realism.
This, in the course of some 90 seconds, was transmitted to Earth.