This time the flames from the rockets were a deep purple that seemed to etch the ground out from under them; the sound traveled through the rocks, and set up vibrations in the soles of Chuck’s boots. The huge ship jumped from the ground like a race horse leaving the post. It leaped a hundred feet, five hundred, a mile, almost before Chuck could raise his neck to follow it.
Then it was only a hot, blue speck in the blackness of the sky. It continued for a full minute, before the flame vanished as the drive was cut. Chuck waited, knowing they were turning the ship over to blast against its direction and slow it. Finally, the blueness appeared again, but soon stopped. Now the ship would be drifting back slowly toward the Moon, while they checked the performance and again turned its rockets to point downward.
It was nearly twenty minutes before the blast shot out again, and the speck turned into a ship. Rothman’s piloting was less than Jeff’s would have been. The ship came to a halt fifty feet above the surface, and he had to take an extra blast to settle it, after the original cut-off. But it still was a good landing.
The test was obviously successful.
There was a buzz in Chuck’s ears, and he cut his radio back on, to hear Jeff’s voice. “Chuck! Stick around, will you? I’m leaving these boys to their figures, so I’ll walk back with you.”
Chuck acknowledged it, and moved as close to the ship as he could. It was nearly ten minutes before the ground had cooled enough for Jeff to come out The pilot indicated the tiny aerial on his helmet, and jabbed twice. Chuck moved his switch away from the common channel for all the suits to second position, where he could talk to Jeff in privacy.
“How’d she handle?” he asked.
“Like a dream, kid. She’s big and fat and built like a tub, but she has a lively set of heels. Now, what’s all this about your being shipped back? You’re no desk-jockey. I thought your father and I had it all fixed up for you to turn pilot!”
Chuck located a small tractor and started it toward the other crater as he tried to explain things to Jeff. The pilot
grunted in disgust at the stupidity of all men who couldn’t appreciate the lure of the rockets. But he agreed with the Governor.
“Once your permit’s lifted, you’re sunk. They’d call you| an ungrateful puppy if you appealed it; anyhow, Braithwaite has to keep them happy if we’re to get a bigger appropriation to set up a second colony. His hands are tied.”
“I know it. I’m not blaming anyone, Jeff. But it doesn’t make me any happier.”
“Nor your Dad. I guess he wanted you to go as much as you did. Your family got used to losing you for a couple years on the Mars hop, but they don’t like getting along without you for something you don’t want. Look, how about coming over to my place? I picked up a couple of mincemeat pies; they got crushed a bit, but they’re edible.”
Chuck wasn’t hungry, even for pies, but he didn’t feel like going back to his own room and moping. He nodded, and they turned toward the entrance to the bachelor quarters. Jeff’s room was filled with books and relics of the early rocket days and it was surprisingly comfortable,
Jeff sliced the pies, beginning a long story about the early trips he had made. In spite of himself. Chuck found himself listening. It was late afternoon before he finally stood up to go.
Jeff walked down the tunnel toward the Svensen apartment with him. “It’s quite a ship, that Eros,” he said suddenly. “More room. You could hide an army in the hydroponic gardens. If I were a little younger and crazier, I’d have sneaked aboard some night, like that young fool I was telling you about on our fifth trip up here. She’ll be gone about two years and it’ll be some trip. Hey!”
Chuck looked up at his shout. “What, Jeff?”
“Just hit me. You’ll probably get your permit back about the time the Eros returns. At least you can get up to see her come in.” They reached the apartment, and he turned to go. “Look me up before they ship you back, kid.”
Chuck found his family already seated at the table, discussing the new work Svensen would be doing in the high vacuum labs, now that work on the Eros was finished. But his father dropped it as he came in.
“The Governor fixed it for you and me to watch the take-off from the radar building,” he said. “That way we can follow what goes on. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you get a chance to handle communications.”
Chuck knew it should cheer him up, but his head was too full of the last words Jeff had said. He dropped into a chair. “Thanks, Dad. But—well, I’ve been thinking maybe I won’t watch the take-off.”
“Oh!” Quick, understanding ran over his father’s face. “Okay, son, just as you like.” He went back to the details of his new job.
Chuck played with his food, trying to eat, but the new idea that had hit him was taking all his attention. He finished as quickly as he could and stood up. His mother was shaking her head over the food he had left, and he kissed her quickly. “I guess I’m just tired. I’m going to bed.”
“I won’t wake you in the morning. Chuck,” his father promised.
It fitted perfectly with the idea. Chuck thought. He shut the door behind him, and dropped onto the bed. Then, because his family might look in on him, he climbed in, clothes and all, and pulled the sheets up to his neck.
It would take two years to get his permit back; but by then he’d be too far along with schooling to quit, and he’d still have four more years to go on Earth. If he had been going on the Eros, though, he could get a permit when he returned—and there’d be no strings. His father wanted him to go, anyhow, even his mother had approved of the trip. It wasn’t as if he’d be useless; the examinations had proved his fitness for the trip.
He tried to remember Jeff’s story of the boy who’d stowed away on the early Moon rocket. Jeff couldn’t have known what he was saying. But the idea wouldn’t leave. Of course, the Council would be angry; but in two years they’d forget—and they wouldn’t deny a new permit to anyone who’d been on Mars!
He tossed about, trying to plan some way to get aboard the ship. Suddenly he realized that his mind was made up— he was going! They weren’t going to turn him into a humdrum research man back on Earth after he’d been all set to explore the mystery of other planets. He’d stow away!
He waited, listening to the sounds of the family. It seemed to take an endless time to wash the dishes, put them away, and then discuss things—probably worry about him. He wondered how his mother would take his running off; then he remembered that her father had run off to join the Air Force, and that it was one of her chief sources of pride. She’d understand—and his father would be secretly pleased.
There was a final stir as they prepared for bed. He heard his mother’s steps at his door, and quickly feigned sleep. A shaft of light touched his face. Then the door closed, and he heard the door to the main bedroom shut
He waited another half-hour to be safe. Finally, he got up and turned on his writing light. The note was an awkward one—he knew he couldn’t say what he wanted to. But it would have to do. He sealed it and addressed an envelope; it wouldn’t be picked up until morning—or delivered until after the Eros had left.
He tiptoed out through the door into the tunnel—and almost stumbled over Jeff Foldingchair.
“Hi,” the pilot greeted him. “You’d better get some spare clothes, kid. It’s a long way to Mars!”
Chuck choked in surprise. “I thought—I—”
“Yeah. You thought I didn’t know I was putting ideas in your head. Look, kid—I didn’t quite tell that story to you straight. It was the second trip to the Moon—and was the kid who stowed away on it. But unless you could figure it out for yourself—with a little help—you didn’t deserve a chance. How about the clothes?”