Elmer poured, and I gulped half the cupful down gratefully, then said,
"Aren't you two going to watch the runaway crack into Mars?"
"Sure," said Artie. "I've got a small monitor screen in the com room.
Want to join us?"
I did and said so. We all drank another cup of coffee and then went to
the communications room. The three of us could sit and comfortably
watch the small monitor.
A series of montages suddenly snapped off the screen to be replaced by
the lonesome ship. This time there was Mars in the near background. I
never could understand how the long-range scope mechanisms managed to
bend their energies so that they could literally see behind something
directly in front of them, but they could. That was how they could get
Mars in the background.
The excited announcer was saying that the crew would abandon ship in
four minutes since all hope of a course change was gone. And in
another three hours the runaway would enter atmosphere.
"Sure," Elmer said, "the crew will abandon ship. But where can they go
after they do? Mars, that's where."
"I guess all you can say about it is that they are going right out of
the fire into the frying pan," Artie said morbidly.
"Yeah," Elmer said. "They sure are. About all they can do is land on
Mars with the short range of the lifeboats."
"Oh, they got enough range, all right," Artie said. "Only they don't
have enough food and water for all the crew to reach some other
planet. They have no choice but to try Mars."
"That'll get them there a little while after the crash," Elmer said.
"In time to get in on the marsquakes and the dust storms."
"Yeah," said Artie, "if they make it through the atmosphere while it's
still being churned."
"Why don't you guys stow the chatter," I said brusquely. "Let us hear
what's going on."
The announcer was saying, "... in ninety seconds. All hope of
regaining control of the ship is past. The entire crew is now in the
four lifeboats ready to leave." Then he started a long countdown, a
full sixty seconds.
The scope magnified the ship more.