The control room became a beehive of excitement. These men were
accustomed to success in the face of overwhelming pessimism. Yet this
was almost the ultimate. They were part of a team that had projected
an earthbound object into space. Now it was coming home. "Operation
Boomerang" was nearing fulfilment. The long hours of sweat and worry
were beginning to pay off. The cork was ready to burst out of their
bottled up emotions.
Sergeant Meyers' face was beaming. He was exuberant with excitement.
"I guess that calls for a drink." He took Wade by the arm. "I've been
saving a quart of homemade corn for just this occasion."
Suddenly Meyers stopped. His tan face became a gray mask.
"... pardon me, Colonel ... sir!" He came to rigid attention.
Wade laughed heavily. "I think one drink would be in perfect order,
sergeant. Where do you hide this liquid cob?"
Meyers' face became bright again. He almost tripped as he tried to
salute, about-face, and run at the same time. He was going out the door
when he called back over his shoulder. "In the water closet on one of
the thrones in the latrine ... Sir."
* * * * *
It was Wade Boeman who ruined Allen Ackerson's exit. He had the staff
car pick up the pilot as soon as the hull of the _Starfrost_ cooled.
The official car had sped back over the barren sand, through the
waiting throng of newsmen, straight to the small office located in
the control building, without a stop. To say that it peeved Ackerson
would be putting it mildly. His face was still burning with anger after
twenty minutes of interrogation. Wade knew it was only the presence of
the Defense Secretary keeping him in line. For that reason he tried to
keep each question brief and simple. Ackerson was dying to get outside
that door and receive some of the acclaim that he was being denied.
"You say you had a chance to look at the test rocket we fired?" Wade
asked.
"Yes sir. It was resting in a red crater, fairly well beat up. It must
have come down hard. In fact it looked like it may have struck a wobble
at the last minute. Of course the terrain is pretty rough up there and
it could have toppled after it hit. I'm sure the camera shots I took
will tell us much more."
Wade felt a sudden twitch in his shoulder. "You said the crater was
red."
"Yes, sir. A bright red. I thought it was strange. It was as if
something spilled out of the ship when she hit."
Wade and the Secretary exchanged glances.
"It was a marking dye so you could pick up the location of the ship,"
Wade said too quickly.
Allen twisted his head as the sound of many voices pierced the quiet
room. Someone cheered loudly. Allen shifted his large frame.
"How was she lying?" Wade asked.
Allen brought his attention back to the two men. It was obvious, he was
becoming annoyed. "Down tail-first. The nose section looked intact.
That's what makes me believe she took on a wobble at the last second.
The nose should have been buried out of sight."
Another cheer forced its way into the room. Suddenly Allen burst out.
"Tell me, Colonel. How's Tomer these days. You remember, that little
guy who quit on you just before the training ended."
The words had the effect the big man had hoped for. Boeman came out of
the chair. His face was a vivid white. "You ..." he began.
The Secretary moved quickly. He was between the two men before Wade
could continue. "That's all for now Captain Ackerson," he said, "or
should I say Mister Ackerson. Your papers have been processed as you
wished. You're a civilian, after sixty days terminal leave, of course."
Ackerson watched the play of emotions on Wade's face. He was enjoying
every second of it. Wade wanted to smash that smug face all over the
floor. Yet he was powerless. Ackerson was still an officer and there
was too much left undone to risk everything now. He sat back down on
the chair. There would be time when the blond man was a civilian.
"Thank you, sir." Allen grinned.
The Secretary extended his hand. "Congratulations again for a job well
done." They shook hands.
"Don't forget, Ackerson," Boeman said as Allen hurried to the door.
"The next week is mine. Solid interrogation. You're still in the
service."
"_Yes, Sir._"
"And one more thing, Ackerson. I know your communication was working.
Why didn't you answer our calls?"
"I thought that would make you sweat a little. I can see that it did."
The door slammed shut.
* * * * *
Neither man spoke when the door closed behind Ackerson. The silence was
long. Finally it was Boeman who moved. He opened the top left drawer of
the desk and withdrew a small glass and a bottle. He poured a drink and
offered it to the Secretary with a glance of his eyes. The Secretary
shook his head.
Boeman lifted the tumbler to his lips and poured the liquid down with
a quick motion. He made a face as it burned. He poured another, toyed
with it before he tossed it down.
"Well, he made it." Boeman said finally, placing the empty glass on the
desk. "To the Moon and back--non stop."
"You knew he would, didn't you."
Boeman nodded, staring at the glass.
There was another awkward silence as both men were wrapped in thought.
"Disappointed, Wade?"
"Not disappointed. Disgusted."
"He gave us what we wanted. The appropriations will be easy now."
"I know."
"Then what's wrong? Certainly you can't blame Ackerson fully. He
doesn't know the entire story."
"Perhaps that's what's wrong. If I could just tell the full story I
might feel better."
"Impossible. Can you imagine the entire nation carrying a load on its
back the way you are now?"