"My God, yes! Senator Higby yapped sixteen minutes overtime and the
shadow knife-edge caught everybody with their air tanks down. The
control crews were listening to the speech and there wasn't anybody
left to switch over the heating-cooling system. You've been to the
Moon, so you know what happens. When day changes to night and you
haven't got any atmosphere, the temperature drops from boiling to
practically absolute zero. Sure, the automatic controls worked, but
there wasn't any crew to adjust and service the heaters and coolers.
It's a mess. Say, haven't you got a ship or two up there?"
"I got 'em out in time."
"Well, Moulton didn't. Their ship's been considerably damaged."
"Thanks, Max. Let me know if anything else breaks."
While Swenson had been talking, two Special Messages and an astrogram
had been laid on his desk. He first read one of the Special Messages.
_Acme Interplanetary Express_
_147 Z Street_
_New York_
_Gentlemen_:
_We are holding you responsible for the damage to our ship Number
57, now on the Moon. The captain of your ship should have known the
potential danger and warned Senator Higby of the time factor._
_We will contact the PCC at once._
_F. K. Esrov_
_Moulton Trust_
Swenson scribbled an answer and handed it to an assistant.
_Moulton Trust_
_Nuts, Esrov. You've got to think up something better than that. We
have no control over public officials, except during flight.
Bellyache all you want to the PCC._
_Sedately_,
_Swenson_
The astrogram was from Senator Hiram C. Higby:
MY BEING STRANDED ON MOON UNMITIGATED AND UNPARALLELED OUTRAGE.
MUST SPEAK AS SCHEDULED ON MARS. FIND ME TRANSPORTATION. WILL DEAL
LATER WITH YOUR COMPANY CONCERNING INFAMOUS TREATMENT.