Once inside the gate, Mr. Mulroy spoke to a uniformed officer, who
saluted. The officer turned a tiny dial on a lapel button he wore and
spoke into it. Garry knew this to be a subminiature radio transmitter
which was in wide use.
Presently, a square little “T-Car,” or tote car, drove up. It was
painted green and white, streamlined, and had seats inside. It had a
convertible top which was opened now because of the pleasant weather.
The baggageman put the spaceman’s things in the compartment, then
invited his passengers to enter at the door he held open. Garry and
Patch felt very important as Officer Mulroy motioned them in ahead of
himself. They felt even more important as they sank down into the soft
seats and were joined a moment later by this high-ranking officer of the
Space Service.
The swift little car whisked them off to the Operations Building, to
which Officer Mulroy had to report before his flight.
When the baggage had been unloaded outside and the T-Car had moved off,
the spaceman said to the boys, “Wait out here, until I sign up and get
my instructions. Then we’ll carry my things aboard the _Orion_.”
While they waited, they turned their attention to the space craft some
distance away. Its blue, satiny sides reflected the glow of thousands of
lights on the field. Red smoke still curled up into the night, warning
of the approach of blast-off time. And yet there was still a little
while to go, for the spiderwebs of the gantry cranes still hugged the
sides of the three-stage space vessel. Workmen were swarming all over
the platforms, making last-minute checks on the ship.
There was a high wire fence around the _Orion_ and only one entrance
through it. A uniformed official was checking tickets as the passengers
went through the gate. The official checked Officer Mulroy’s ticket, and
Mr. Mulroy told him it would be all right for the boys to help him carry
his baggage aboard.
The boys’ new friend took them down some steps into a concrete tunnel
that led to the launching pad. On the way they stopped at a little room
where Mr. Mulroy was weighed.
“Weight is a very important factor on a space ship,” Mr. Mulroy said, as
they were on their way again.
The tunnel led to an elevator that ran up the side of the rocket. The
elevator cab rose and rose, high into the black night. Finally, Officer
Mulroy pressed a button and said this was where they were to get off.
Garry and Patch followed their friend out into a corridor of the space
ship. Officer Mulroy searched the doors they passed, then recognized his
own, Stateroom 17. He drew out a key and unlocked the door, then
preceded the boys into the room.
“Gee, what a tiny room!” Patch exclaimed.
“It has to be this small,” Mr. Mulroy said. “Every inch of area on a
space ship is at a premium, you know. For most travelers, the Von Braun
Space Station is only a stopover on a longer trip into space. Sometimes
the layover is for several days or even a week or two. Since rooms
aboard the space station are very limited, most of the passengers are
quartered in staterooms in the rocket in which they left earth.”
Suddenly, a voice came over a speaker in the room: “Blast-off in ten
minutes. All nonpassengers are requested to leave the ship.”
“That’s us,” Garry said unhappily.
How he envied Officer Mulroy on his coming trip into the deeps of space!
He wanted to go so badly that his heart ached. But he realized that not
for many years could his fondest dream come true.
Officer Mulroy noticed Garry’s reluctance to leave, and placed a
friendly arm around his shoulder. “Don’t take it so hard, Garry,” he
said. “Be the very best student you can. The years will go by fast, and
then one day you will wake up to find that you are eligible to be a
spaceman.”
“Thanks,” Garry said, trying to smile convincingly, although he did not
feel happy. The idea of the future did not interest him now, but only
the present, because the queen of the spaceways was about to blast off,
and he wanted so desperately to remain aboard her.
“Let’s go, Garry,” Patch said. “We don’t want to get Officer Mulroy into
trouble by us being caught aboard at blast-off.”
“That’s right,” Officer Mulroy said with a smile. “Being a stowaway on a
rocket is really a serious matter. You see, for every pound of pay load
on a rocket, there must be many more pounds of fuel, so if an extra
person remained aboard, the ship might not be able to reach its
destination.”
“Thank you for letting us come aboard with you, Mr. Mulroy,” Garry said.
“And I’ll remember what you told me.”
The space officer insisted on tipping the boys, and it was a generous
tip at that. As the two left the room he called to them, “Good-by,
fellows. I’ll send you a post card from Mars. That’s a promise.”
Garry and Patch said good-by and followed the directions that Officer
Mulroy had given them for leaving the ship.
Garry pressed the button of the elevator in which they had ridden
earlier. As the doors parted and he and Patch went in, he said to his
friend, “Gee, I hate to leave. I don’t know what’s the matter with me,
Patch. Maybe I’m just tired of having to do the same thing every day,
over and over.”
“I feel kind of the same way, Garry,” Patch admitted, “but I guess we’ll
just have to sweat out the old grind for a few more years.”
They had no sooner started to descend than the light in the elevator
went off, and then the elevator itself stopped.
“Hey, what’s going on!” Garry exclaimed.
“The power’s off!” Patch said.
Presently, the light came on again, and the boys felt a lot better.
“Whew, for a minute I was scared!” Patch said.
“Me too. Hey, we’re still not moving, though!” Garry pressed harder on
the button, but the elevator refused to move.
“We’re stuck here, Garry!” Patch burst out.
Garry started banging furiously on the walls of the elevator. “We’ve
just _got_ to make ourselves heard, Patch!” he cried.
The din was very loud in the cramped compartment, as both boys hammered
on the wall.
No one came to their rescue, but then a voice spoke over the
public-address speaker in the ceiling of the elevator: “Don’t be
alarmed, folks. A short circuit in the fuel-pump relay caused us to lose
electric power momentarily. But everything has been restored to
normalcy. Warning: Three minutes to blast-off.”
“It _hasn’t_ been restored!” Garry burst out desperately.
The boys pounded on the metal walls until their knuckles hurt.
In a final desperate action, Garry slammed his closed fist against the
stubborn power button. Instantly, he felt the elevator throb underfoot
and begin to descend once more.
“Thank goodness!” Garry breathed prayerfully. “But we’ve still got to
hurry in order to get off in time! No telling how long we’ve been stuck
in this thing!”
When the elevator stopped, the doors slid open and the boys ran out. But
they found themselves in a strange corridor.
“We’re not out of the ship yet!” Garry exclaimed. “We’ve only gone down
a deck or two. The elevator must still be fouled up.”
“What’ll we do now?” Patch asked in desperation.
“Go back into the elevator and try to get to the ground. We’ll have to
hurry! The elevator is part of the gantry crane, and it’ll be rolled
away any moment!”
They rushed back to the closed doors of the elevator. But a sign in red
lights on the door read: “DO NOT ENTER. ELEVATOR REMOVED.”
“They’ve already taken it away!” Patch said in dismay.
“We’ve got to find a place to strap down, or every bone in our bodies
will be broken on the blast-off!” Garry said.
A speaker along the corridor next gave out with the dread words:
“Blast-off in ninety seconds, ladies and gentlemen. Secure your seat
harness and listen to the instructions of the stewards. Failure to obey
directions could cost you your lives. In the first few moments of
acceleration in a rocket ship, there is a crushing blow to the human
body. This jolt will occur twice more as the second and third stages
blast off. For that reason, it is absolutely necessary that everyone be
strapped down securely to his G-couch.”
Patch grabbed his friends arm in a fierce grip. “Garry, we’re going to
die! We’re going to die!” he cried.
Garry shook off Patch and desperately began throwing open doors along
the corridor, looking into one room after another. “There must be some
G-couches along here,” he said. “I read somewhere that space law says
there must be emergency couches on all decks of a rocket ship.”
Patch tagged along after Garry, complaining. Garry could not afford to
be sympathetic now. Both their lives depended on what he did within the
next minute.
Then Garry found it. Printed on the door was the heartening word:
“G-COUCHES.”
He flung open the door and saw a row of six S-shaped reclining seats.
Garry grabbed the arm of his quaking friend in a tight grip and told
him, “Listen to me, Patch, and do what I tell you. Jump on a couch just
as fast as you can and don’t waste a second getting those buckles
fastened across your chest, body, and legs. Now get going!”
Garry helped him along with a shove, then dove for one of the couches
close by.
As he hastily fastened his own straps in place, Garry cast worried
glances at his friend, who was fumbling as best he could in his nervous
state.
A speaker warned of the passing moments: “Zero minus twenty seconds,
nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen....”
A few seconds more, and Garry’s straps were securely fastened. He
twisted his head to see how Patch was doing. Patch had almost all his
straps in place, but he could not seem to get the chest buckle
tightened.
“Hurry, Patch, please hurry!” Garry cried.
“I—I’m doing the best I can,” Patch said, and Garry could see the
streams of sweat trickling down his round face.
Then, with a final lucky tug, Patch had it. Turning his weakly smiling
face to Garry, he murmured, “Garry, I guess I just barely did....”
Garry never heard the rest of the words, for at that moment the _Orion_
shook herself like a big dog, began a slow tug upward into the black
night, and then, a few seconds later, with a deafening roar tore free of
her earthly bonds and flung herself into space.