A 'copter sidled over the ridge, then came just above the oak woods
toward us. Guy set it gently on the landing square and we walked down
to meet them.
I helped Em out and hugged her. Guy jumped out, asking, "Do you have
your TV set on?"
"No," I answered. "Should I?"
"It's almost time for the broadcast. I was afraid we would miss it."
"What broadcast?"
"From the rocket."
"Rocket?"
"For heaven's sake, darling," my wife complained, "I told you about
Guy's rocket being a success. The papers are full of it. So are the
broadcasts."
As we stepped up on the terrace, she turned to Guy and Em. "He's out of
contact today. Thinks he's Zeus."
I asked our son to wheel a TV set out onto the terrace while I made
martinis for our friends. Then we sat down and drank the cocktails and
the kids had fruit juice and we watched the broadcast Guy had tuned in.
Some joker from Cal Tech was explaining diagrams of a multi-stage
rocket.
After a bit, I got up and said, "I have something out in the lab I want
to check on."
"Hey, wait a minute," Guy objected. "They're about to show the shots of
the launching."
My wife gave me a look; you know the kind. I sat down. Then I got up
and poured myself another martini and freshened Em's up, too. I sat
down again.
The scene had changed to a desert launching site. There was old Guy
himself explaining that when he pressed the button before him, the
hatch on the third stage of the great rocket in the background would
close and, five minutes later, the ship would fire itself.
Guy, on the screen, pushed the button, and I heard Guy, beside me, give
a sort of little sigh. We watched the hatch slowly close.
"You look real good," I said. "A regular Space Ranger. What are you
shooting at?"
"Darling, will you please--be--_quiet_?"
"Yeah, Dad. Can it, will you? You're always gagging around."
* * * * *
On the screen, Guy's big dead-earnest face was explaining more about
the project and suddenly I realized that this was an instrument-bearing
rocket they hoped to land on the Moon. It would broadcast from there.
Well, now--say, that _would_ be something! I began to feel a little
ashamed of the way I had been acting and I reached out and slapped old
Guy on the shoulder. For just a moment, I thought of telling him about
my volplas. But only for a moment.
A ball of flame appeared at the base of the rocket. Miraculously, the
massive tower lifted, seemed for a moment merely to stand there on a
flaming pillar, then was gone.
The screen returned to a studio, where an announcer explained that the
film just shown had been taken day before yesterday. Since then, the
rocket's third stage was known to have landed successfully at the south
shore of Mare Serenitatis. He indicated the location on a large lunar
map behind him.
"From this position, the telemeter known as Rocket Charlie will be
broadcasting scientific data for several months. But now, ladies and
gentlemen, we will clear the air for Rocket Charlie's only general
broadcast. Stand by for Rocket Charlie."
A chronometer appeared on the screen and, for several seconds, there
was silence.