This I could do without faking. I took her in my arms and drew her
close. As she turned her face to mine, I thought for a moment that
this, at least, would be real. But when I started to meet her lips with
mine, she quickly turned her cheek.
The kiss, too, turned out to be a fraud.
My four companions also kissed her--on the cheek. Then we stepped into
the cherry-picker which would lift us to the nose capsule of the Saturn.
Two technicians rode with us to help adjust our harnesses and to make
sure we were snug in our seats before the lift-off.
The seats were backed against the wall in a hexagonal arrangement, with
a small instrument panel directly in front of Spartan's position.
"Sit on my left, Ludson," said Spartan. "Joel, you sit on my right. I
think we can allow the bride and groom to sit side-by-side, since this
is to be their honeymoon ride."
Morrie Grover snickered.
"There's no cause for mirth," said Spartan sharply. "There's going to
be nothing funny about this trip."
Morrie sobered and grew red-faced. I felt sorry for the kid. The laugh
had been caused by nervousness. All of us had been in space, of course,
but this trip was anything but routine. The lift-off and the re-entry
are the most dangerous phases of space flight, any way you look at it.
We put on our helmets and the technicians adjusted them. There was a
microphone in each so that we could communicate, but no one, not even
Spartan, said anything.
"Sixty minutes!" came the voice from the countdown.
Sixty long minutes of sitting. I wondered how I could stand the strain.
Turning my head, I looked at Gail Loring beside me. She stared straight
ahead, her lips pressed tight and her eyes glistening. She must have
seen my head move, for she turned and looked at me.
"Good luck, Mrs. Drake," I said.
"The name is Gail Loring, and don't forget that, Bill Drake," she said.