A small man, his face seamed by a thousand wrinkles, slipped through
the door almost furtively and stood, twisting his hands in the audition
helmet which enabled him to hear in the engine room above the noise of
the motors.
"Didn't think you'd be in bed so soon, Mr. Adam," he apologized.
"But you always was an early retirer. I remember when I had you on
the training ship--he--he--he." He ended on a kind of nervous little
giggle, and Adam looked at him sharply.
"Yes, I remember. I couldn't cork off for a minute without hearing
someone pounding on the door and you yelling, 'It's Jake Burchall! Time
to get up'" His face sobered. "You didn't come here to talk about old
times, Jake. What's on your mind?"
"Well, you know how one thing and another gets around on a long run
like this. I didn't know but maybe there was something I could help you
about, sort of, he--he--he."
"Afraid not, Jake. Everything on hand is up to me. You can tell me one
thing, though. I was just in from the Mars run when I found my name
posted for this expedition, and I never did hear whose place I got as
First Mate on this trip. Do you know who it was?"
"Didn't nobody tell you that? It was Blagovitch."
"Why, he's one of the most cautious men in the service! What happened
to him?"
"Bruk his foot. He-he-he. There was some said he did it on purpose."
"But what could Old Steel-Wall--that is, why did the Captain pick him
in the first place?"
"Well, Mr. Adam, there's a lot of things about this trip ain't the same
as an ordinary run. I wonder myself sometimes. The Cap'n, he picks a
course way out of the ecliptic to dodge planetoids he didn't stand
one chance in a million of hitting anyhow; and he picks him a mighty
cautious mate, and then he picks him a young mate when the other one
can't go. What's he 'fraid of?"
"He's afraid of failing, that's all, Jake."
"He-he-he. Well, maybe I'm a old fool. I'd say it was more like he was
'fraid of succeeding."
* * * * *
"_Hello, Earth! This is your radio gal, Paulette de Vries, speaking
from 7-LOP, space-ship_ Goddard _. Interplanetary time two-two-0-three,
or just three seconds behind schedule for entering the atmosphere of
Pluto. We're falling rapidly toward the planet. I can only see half of
it, filling the entire horizon. The color is almost exactly that of a
pearl in moonlight, white with blue lights and absolutely featureless.
Sunlight out here is indescribably weak. Our spectroscope, handled by
Professor Reuter, shows the atmosphere is high in fluorine, with traces
of argon, and outside that a thin belt, a very thin belt of helium
and hydrogen. I told you all that the other day. We have accurate
temperature readings now, folks, and what they say is 200 degrees below
zero, which is plenty chilly. You could drive a nail with a butter
hammer at that temperature, folks, and it means we will have to do our
exploring by diving, since the whole surface of the planet will be
covered, perhaps miles deep, by liquid gases. Can't tell till we get
there. Once we do get in, however, these talks will temporarily cease,
folks. I'll be sorry, because I've enjoyed them, and I've enjoyed
hearing from all of you back on Earth, so many million miles away. But
I'll be back, and so will all the crew and its heroic captain. You
may remember--Stand by! We're in the hydrogen layer now. It's misty,
streaming past the ports, so I can hardly see anything. I must sign off
now. This is 7-LOP, space-ship_ Goddard."
Adam Longworth crouched motionless. The muscles bulged along his arms,
shoulder and neck quivered with tension, and perspiration stood in
tickling beads on his skin. His eyes were fixed on the control panel
before him; on either side was a quartermaster at a set of controls and
behind the three stood Captain McCausland, calm and watchful.
Adam's hand moved rapidly and a quivering needle stood still on a dial.
"Three gravities insufficient."
The Captain's finger found a red button on the portable signal panel
that made a three-inch medallion on the left breast of his uniform.
Throughout the ship there was a flash of red lights; loudspeakers
echoed his "Stand by for five gravities."
* * * * *
The quartermasters flung long levers; the motors boomed, braking the
speed of the _Goddard's_ fall toward the surface. Captain McCausland
slumped to the acceleration and recovered; the air-speed indicator
crept toward the bottom of the dial, and had almost reached it, when a
loudspeaker twanged nasally. "Visibility fifty feet, liquid surface.
Forty feet--going down--afloat, sir."
Adam killed the motor with a plunge of his finger and his ears rang in
the sudden stillness.
"Thank you, gentlemen," said the Captain. "Perfect landing, Mister
Longworth. Relieve the navigation watch and report to the chart-room in
ten minutes."
Adam saluted, said a few words to the quartermasters and went out
with them to the fo'castle. The men off watch were just unstrapping
themselves from their bunks. Jake Burchall stepped up.
"Do I take up the new watch, Mr. Adam?"
"Two hours from now. Look here, Jake, there's something I wish you'd
do."
"Yes sir."
Adam lowered his voice.
"Did you hear the report? Fluorine all through this planet. Our ports
are glass, and fluorine acts on glass. They're thick, of course, and
have layers of plastic, but it will wear them through eventually.
We've got to think of something to do about it, and I think I have the
answer. Remember compartment eighteen? She'll be flooded. Suppose when
you're posting that watch you get into a space suit and slide in there.
Don't go outside, but cut loose some of the mica lining around the
break. When you get it, you can make some mica sheets for the helmet
view-ports of your space suit. Then get into compartment eighteen
again, and try it out. I'm no chemical expert, but mica should insulate
the view-ports on the helmet, and if it'll do that, it will insulate
the view-ports of the whole ship. Report to me privately. I don't want
to make a fool of myself if Professor Reuter already has some other
scheme worked out."
Jake grinned in understanding.
"Yes sir. He-he-he. Hope he hasn't."
In the chart room, when Adam arrived, he found a small gathering.
Perkins, the chemists, was there; so was Professor Reuter, the
astronomical man, a couple of assistants, and Captain McCausland,
looking extremely grave, thoughtful, but ruffled.
"Well, Longworth," he said. "You're just in time to order out the
navigation watch and set the course back to Earth."