The Board Shows Green
Even through the rocket's walls the sound of motors and the creak of
metal could be heard, and Rick knew that any slight noise he could make
would never be noticed.
Frantic, he ran to the thick port and looked out. Surely there must be
some way he could attract attention! The flashlight in his hand reminded
him. He aimed it through the port and flashed a rapid SOS, SOS, SOS.
Someone would see it! Someone must!
Frantically he flashed his SOS through the port, then ran to the other
port and began flashing there. Why didn't someone respond? Everyone
carried a flashlight. Why didn't someone think of signaling him that he
had been seen?
He knew the answer. He hadn't been seen.
The flashlight picked out his wrist watch. It was now zero minus five!
He stood at the port and kept flashing, his mind racing. Apparently
whoever had closed the door hadn't known he was inside. His light hadn't
been on at that moment. But it didn't make any difference now, because
he was locked in from the outside. There was no way of opening the
hatchway from inside.
Four minutes.
He had to think of something! Everyone was so occupied with last-minute
details that probably no one was even looking at the rocket. Besides, it
was light outdoors. His flashlight would be only a dim glow in the
rising sunlight.
There had to be another way. He forced himself to calmness. Approach it
logically, he told himself sternly. The way to do it is to signal the
blockhouse.
He studied Prince Machiavelli, looking for a clue in the spacemonk's
draping of instruments. He could tap on the bell of the stethoscope. But
then he realized the display would not yet be rolling.
He had a quick vision of Dick Earle and Gee-Gee watching the master
board, checking the circuit lights as they flicked from red to green.
The board must be nearly all green now, he thought--and in the same
instant he knew how he could attract attention.
Rick jumped to the center of the tiny room and crouched over the drone
control. He removed the cover. There was one circuit that served only as
a feed to the board, to show that the control was operative. Break that
and the board would show red.
His flashlight probed the maze of wiring and he located the signal wire.
Fishing into the spaghetti with his fingers, he got thumb and forefinger
on it and tried to break it. The wire held.
He fumbled in his belt kit and found a pair of side-cutting pliers. They
would do. He reached in and snipped the circuit wire, then he slumped
down on the deck and mopped rivulets of water from his face.
Close! He glanced at his watch.
Zero minus two.
He grinned foolishly. This would be something to tell his grandchildren.
Once, because of a silly mistake he came within two minutes of being the
first spaceman!
Prince Machiavelli was looking down at him, the furry little face
serious, like that of a very wise old owl. In the irregular light
through the ports the tufted ears made the spacemonk look even more
owl-like.
"At least I got you a little reprieve by saving my own skin," Rick said
aloud. "Poor little guy."
The marmoset chirruped happily, glad of the human companionship.
Zero minus one minute.
Rick wasn't worried about the passage of time. Not until the drone
circuit was thrown into operation in another thirty seconds would
Gee-Gee and Dick realize that it wasn't functioning. A yell would stop
Dr. Bernais, and the gantry would be wheeled back into place. Gee-Gee
and Dick would probably come personally to check the circuit and find
out why the board had shown red instead of switching to green.
Rick chuckled. What a surprise they'd get!
Fortunately, it would only take a few minutes to repair the signal wire
and clear out. Pegasus would be a little late--perhaps fifteen minutes.
Again his thoughts turned to the awful moment when the hatchway closed.
Now that he could think more calmly, he decided that whoever had closed
the hatch hadn't known he was inside. The interior was gloomy, and he
had switched his light off to keep it from shining in the marmoset's
eyes.
He still couldn't be sure why the hatchway had been open, but in all
probability Frank or Dr. Bond had simply gone down the gantry without
closing it, not realizing until they were down that the team responsible
for installing the spacemonk was also responsible for buttoning up.
There was no evidence of sabotage that he could see, so the open
hatchway was nothing but the kind of mistake people make when working
under extreme pressure.
Again he wondered about the identity of the Earthman. It was curious
that no evidence of sabotage had been found in Orion, even though the
theft of servomotors had taken place. Maybe, as Dr. Hiller had guessed,
the picture left by the Earthman had been burned. Anyway, Pegasus was
proof the Earthman wasn't infallible. This was one project he hadn't
been able to sabotage.
His eye caught the glimmer of white on the bulkhead behind the
spacemonk. He didn't remember that. He got up and walked over to it,
peering to see in the dimness. Then he remembered his flashlight and
focused the beam on the paper.
The blood drained from his head and he gasped. It was a sketch of a
knight in armor, lance upraised, thrust through a winged rocket!
Rick let out a hoarse yell.
In the same instant he heard a whine, a rapidly accelerating whine. The
pumps! The fuel pumps! The starting sequence had begun!
He looked at his watch, and saw that zero time was many seconds past.
But surely his watch was wrong. The board was red! Wasn't anyone
watching? He ran to the port and looked out at the deserted desert. He
was alone in the great rocket, and the fuel pumps were going. He could
almost picture the stream of boron hydride blending with the oxidizer
and flowing in an ever-increasing stream toward the combustion chamber.
He heard the scrape as the instrument cable dropped away outside.
Pegasus roared!
And Rick knew. He knew that somehow he had failed, that the board showed
green!