[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction
April 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the
U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
[Sidenote: _He obstinately wanted no part in achieving the goal of
generations--but the goal with equal obstinacy wanted all of him!_]
To keep the record straight: Orville Close was first man on the Moon.
Harold Ferguson was second. They never talk about it.
It started on that October morning when the piece came out in the
Parkville _News_. Harold grumbled that they'd gotten the story all
wrong, calling his ship a rocket ship, and treating him like a flagpole
sitter or a man going over Niagara Falls in a barrel. His wife took
their sad, thin little girl and went to live with her brother. The city
police blocked off Elm Street, letting no one through except the
residents. The neighbors were getting up a petition. But Orville refused
to become excited.
What was going to happen?
Why, nothing.
Harold would probably crack up completely, but this evening that thing
would still be standing there, solid as the Washington Monument.
Nevertheless, Orville's wife Polly was going to her sister's, across
town. _She_ wasn't going to stay there and be blown up! While she was
getting ready, Orville picked up a package by the sink and carried it
outside to the alley and dropped it in the garbage can. He wore his
double-breasted fall suit. He strolled to the boundary fence and leaned
against a post.
A reporter was taking angle shots of the spaceship. Flashbulbs were
scattered over Harold's garden.
It really does catch the eye, Orville thought. Smarten the ship up a
little, put some stripes running down from the nose, a few pieces of
chrome around over the body....
* * * * *
Poor old Harold came off his back porch carrying a thermos jug and six
loaves of bread.
"Morning, Harold," said Orville.
"Oh--morning, Orville." Harold flinched. Another reporter had come out
of the shed and taken their picture.
"What's your name, mister?" the reporter asked Orville.
"I'd rather you left me out of this," Orville said.
A loaf of bread had broken open and slices were falling out. Harold put
down the thermos jug and picked up the slices and stuffed them back into
the wrapper. The first reporter came over.
[Illustration]
"It's got Vitamin D." Harold grinned wretchedly. "Costs two cents more a
loaf, but I thought, what the heck--"
"How about a shot of you and the missus saying good-by?" the first
reporter said.
"Why--she left me," Harold blurted. He tried to get away, but the
reporters hemmed him in.
"Was she scared?" the second reporter asked.
"Look, boys!" Orville put his hands on the top rail of the fence and
climbed across. He was getting his shoes wet in the weeds in Harold's
garden, but he didn't care. "The man has work to do. Can't you leave him
alone?"
* * * * *
He picked up the jug and took Harold by the elbow and led him into the
shed.
There, resting on some concrete blocks on the dirt floor, was the base
of the ship. In the semi-darkness, it looked harmless enough: like a
tank, six or eight feet across, reaching up through a jagged hole in the
roof.
"Harold, you could make a good thing out of this," Orville said. "All
this publicity."
Harold was climbing a rickety ladder to the roof. Orville followed.
"Mount this thing on a trailer. Take her around to fairs and carnivals."
Orville waited on the roof while Harold climbed another ladder to the
small oval door in the side of the ship. Harold called down: "You never
saw the inside. Want to look around?"
"Well...." Orville glanced into his back yard. Polly wasn't ready yet.
He climbed up and handed the jug to Harold and stuck his head in.
"Huh!" There wasn't much to see. Just a small compartment with some
pipes leading from below into the nose. "You got to fix this up," he
said. "Some Rube Goldberg contraptions."
"The works are all up here." Harold climbed a ladder and disappeared
through a hole overhead. "C'mon up, I'd like you to see this!"
Orville looked down again into his yard. "It'll take her forever! Polly,
I mean. Okay, I guess I got time for a look." He stepped in and climbed
until his waist was through the hole.
* * * * *
The nose of the ship was dark. Harold was shining an extension lamp
around. There were parts of a junked car and some old plumbing fixtures
and Orville recognized the wheels of a lawnmower he'd left by the alley
for the trash men to pick up. This didn't look like the inside of a
spaceship. It looked exactly like a corner in Harold's basement.
"Oh, Lord," Orville said.
"I call this my scope." Harold was shining the light on a shaving
mirror, on a long arm that could be swung and tilted about. "How about
that? Pretty neat, huh?"
Neat was hardly the word for it. "Look here, Harold! The neighbors are
getting an injunction. Why don't you play it smart? Fight it out in the
courts. There'll be a lot of publicity--"
"They are?" Harold was hurt. He was shining the lamp in Orville's eyes.
"Yeah. Now while you're fighting it out in the courts--"
"Do you call that neighborly?"
"They're scared. They're afraid you'll blow the whole neighborhood to
pieces."
"Well, hell with them!"
"While we're on that subject, ain't that my trouble lamp you're
holding?"
"Yeah. Guess it is. Need it right away?"
"Just want you to remember where it came from."
"Actually, it'll be no use on the trip. I got her fixed so when I take
off, the cord down at the base will come unplugged and--"
"Well, Polly must be ready by now." Orville gave up. Polly was right.
Harold was insane.
Orville tried to turn on the ladder so that he could climb back down.
His foot slipped. He spread his arms to keep from falling through the
hole and knocked over the pile of bread.
"Watch out!" Harold yelped.
"I'm all right." Orville felt a slight tingle.
"Yes, but you--" Harold's voice trailed off with dismay. The light in
his hand had gone out, but Orville didn't think of what this meant at
the time.
There was light coming through the door below and Orville climbed down.
Darn! He pulled out his handkerchief and tried to brush the dust off his
lapels. He'd have to change suits, and that meant changing his socks and
tie, and he was supposed to meet those people about that deal on
Maplehurst Extension at nine. Well, he'd be late. He leaned out of the
door.
"Orville!" shouted Harold. "Come back! Don't step out there!"
* * * * *
A lot of fog was blowing down past the nose of the ship. Orville
wondered where it came from. He stuck his foot out, reaching for the
ladder. He heard Harold scrambling down from above and he wanted to get
away from that madman. He reached farther. Harold grabbed his arm.
Then the fog cleared away and Orville swayed dizzily, gaping at where he
had almost stepped. They had been going through a cloud. Now he looked
down at dazzling clouds in the bright October sun and between them he
saw the streets of Parkville, very neat, just like the map hanging in
the office.
He dropped back inside and lay weakly on the floor. He grabbed one of
the pipes and shakily clung to it.
"What happened?" he stammered.
"Hit the main switch." Harold was reaching out for the door handle. He
banged the door shut with a concussion that burst inside Orville's head.
"We took off."
* * * * *
It was dark in there, at first; then Orville saw a dim violet light that
filled the inside of the ship.
He followed Harold up the ladder into the nose of the ship and sank to
the floor. Harold was twiddling with some knobs mounted on the dashboard
of the junked car.
"Boy!" Orville pulled out his handkerchief again and swabbed his
forehead. He tried to wipe the grime from his hands. "And I've never
even been in an airplane!"
"Me either." Harold pounded on the dashboard. A meter didn't seem to be
working. "There ... guess I can open her up a little."
"Hey, wait! Take me back!"
Harold moved a knob an eighth of a turn. He switched on the scope and
waited for it to warm up. He took off his glasses and wiped them,
squinting at Orville with that one bad eye.
"Turn it around and take me back!"
"But I can't, Orville." Harold put on the glasses and looked into the
scope. "It's working!"
"I demand it! You've made me late for the office as it is!"
"Sure looks different from the map," Harold said. "Must be the East
Coast. There's Florida sticking out there."
He snapped off the scope and sat opposite Orville. He opened the thermos
and poured coffee into the cap.
"Been so busy, didn't have my breakfast." He held out the cap to
Orville. "I take mine without sugar."