"It's an occasion to remember," grinned Don. "Christmas Eve at Venus
Equilateral! Here's Triplanet Films with their cameramen, and they
tell me that the Interplanetary Network has called off all Christmas
broadcasts at midnight, Terra mean time, to carry the sounds of revelry
from Venus Equilateral as a Christmas celebration program."
"Yeah," said Arden, "and tomorrow I've got to go to church and explain
to a class of Sunday Schoolsters how and why Santa Claus can make the
haul across a hundred million miles of space in an open sleigh powered
with a batch of reindeer."
"Some blowout," said Warren, coming up with his wife.
Hilda Warren smiled happily. "I don't think I've ever appreciated how
many people really worked here," she said.
"Shucks," grinned Don, "I've been trying to get along by merely
mumbling about half of the names myself. And if I may point it out,
Hilda, you're standing under a hunk of mistletoe." And before she could
say anything, Don had proceeded with great gusto to the amusement of
Warren.
Arden shook her head. "The rascal has been standing there for a half
hour because people are always coming up to tell him it's a fine party."
"Method in my madness," nodded Channing.
There was a faint tinkle of bells in the distance, and as people became
aware of them, Keg Johnson tapped Don on the shoulder and said: "The
fleet's in, Don. Here comes our professional Santa Claus. And the
fleet is going to land and await midnight tomorrow night. The Johnson
Spaceline is going to have the honor of hauling, bag, baggage, foot,
horse, and marines to Terra. Everything ready?"
Don nodded absently. He listened to the sleigh bells for a moment and
then said: "Everything of a personal nature is packed. The rest is
worthless. How many men have you?"
"About two hundred."
"Then tell 'em to forget the packing and join in. After this mass, we
won't even notice a couple of hundred more. But tell me is S. Claus
going to drive that thing right in here?"
Keg nodded. "He's running on snow in the corridor, of course, but he's
equipped with wheels for hard sledding."
The orchestra broke into Jingle Bells and a full dozen reindeer came
prancing in through the large double doors. They came in a whirl of
snow and a blast of icy air from the corridor, and they drew a very
traditional Santa Claus behind them in the traditional sleigh laden
with great bags.
Before the door was closed on the veritable blizzard in the hallway,
several men came in hauling a great log which they placed on the
monstrous fireplace at one end of the vast hall.
The only incongruity was the huge spit turned by a gear train from a
motor run from a beam energy tube.
Santa Claus handed out a few gifts to those nearest and then mounted
the orchestra platform. He held up his hands for silence.
"Before I perform my usual job of delivering gifts and remembrances,"
he said, "I want you to hear a word or two from your friend and
mine--Don Channing!"
This brought a roar. And Channing went to the platform slowly.
"My friends," said Don Channing, "I've very little to say and I'm not
going to take a lot of time in saying it. We've had a lot of hard work
on Venus Equilateral and we've had a lot of fun. Venus Equilateral has
been our home--and leaving our home tomorrow night will be as great
a wrench as was the leaving of our original homes so many years ago
to come to Venus Equilateral. It will for me. I shall darned well be
homesick.
"Yet--this job is finished. And well done. Frankly," he grinned
cheerfully, "we started out just covering the planet-to-planet job.
We extended that to include planet-to-ship, and then when they added
ship-to-planet, it automatically made it ship-to-ship. Well, we've got
it all set now to make it anywhere-at-all without relay. People speak
of Venus Equilateral and forget the Relay Station part of the name.
A relay station is no darned good without something to relay--and
you know, good people, I'm completely baffled as of now for a
communications project. I can't conceive of a problem in communications
that would be at all urgent. I--"
* * * * *
A loop of the maze of heater-wire from the fire-ruined suit twisted
on the bare metal floor. The bare metal shorted part of the long loop
and the remaining section grew hotter as a consequence. The expansion
caused by heat made the tangle of wire writhe slowly, and two crossing
lines touched, shortening the overheated loop still more.
It flared incandescent and blew like a fuse and showered the room with
minute droplets of molten metal that landed on wall and floor solid,
but yet warm.
A tiny stinging rain of them pelted Walt's face. This penetrated when
few other things would have. Walt stirred coldly painful, and his eyes
struggled against a slightly-frozen rim that tried to hold eyelash to
cheek.