“Brother, how stupid can you get?” A new spasm of pain ripped through Jack’s body. He ducked his head, his lips skinned back over his teeth. He bent slightly at the waist, as if the pain were too much to bear standing erect.
“I’m going,” Ted said suddenly. He started to move, and Jack reached out with one hand, sinking his fingers into Ted’s shoulder. He whirled Ted around, slammed him against the bulkhead, the effort bringing new agony to his face.
“Look,” he gasped, “keep... keep your silly... nose out of this. Understand?”
He drew back his arm suddenly, and Ted saw pain knifing his features again.
“When did you hurt yourself?” he asked.
Jack didn’t answer for a moment. He kept his head bent, his fingers pressed against his collarbone. “It’ll pass,” he murmured. “The pain only comes... every... now and then.”
Ted suddenly remembered the blastoff from Earth and the pain that had contorted Jack’s features. “Was it during blastoff?” he asked. “Was that when you hurt yourself?”
Jack nodded, swallowing hard. “That’s when. Yes. Yes.”
“Where?”
“My collarbone.”
“Is it broken?”
“I don’t think so. No.”
“I’m going to get a doctor,” Ted said again.
Jack lifted his head, his eyes blazing. “You’ll do nothing,” he whispered. “You’ll keep your mouth shut and forget all about this.”
“But you said...”
“Just forget everything I said. Just go about your business and forget you even know me. Until I’m on my way to the Moon.”
Ted pulled his brows together and looked at Jack huddled against the bulkhead, his fingers massaging his injured collarbone.
“You can’t go to the Moon like that,” he said. “Acceleration might break the bone — if it’s not broken already.”
“It’s not broken,” Jack insisted, “and I’m not worried about acceleration.”
“You’ll be endangering your life,” Ted said. “The Manual says no man should undergo acceleration unless he’s in top physical...”
“Stop harping on that Manual,” Jack said. “School days are school days, and this is something entirely different. You think I’m going to pass up a shot at the Moon because of a rules book? You think I’m crazy?”
Ted’s eyes narrowed. “You’re supposed to be going along as a possible replacement for any man in the crew. How can you replace anyone if you’re going to need replacement yourself?”
“Let me worry about that,” Jack said.
“Suppose something should go wrong? Suppose one of the men gets sick? How will you...”
“Look, Ted,” Jack interrupted, “I’m going to the Moon. I’ve come this far, and I’m going the rest of the way, collarbone or no collarbone.”
“You’re being downright selfish. You’re not only gambling with your own life; you’re endangering the life of every man in the crew.”
“Stop being a kid, for crying out loud! I’m due for pilot and navigator training after this hop. You know what this will mean? I’ll be made. I can write my own ticket anywhere after this. You think I’m going to let a bruised bone stop me? Grow up, will you?”
Ted considered this for a moment. “Suppose I tell the doctor anyway?”
“That’ll mean washout for me. I’ll be through as far as the Air Force is concerned.” He paused. “You wouldn’t want that to happen, would you?”
“I... I don’t know.”
Jack smiled. “This bone bruise is nothing, Ted, Acceleration won’t hurt it a bit. You’ll see.”
“If it’s nothing to worry about, why won’t you see a doctor?”
“Because I don’t want to get tangled up in a lot of red tape. By the rules book, I’d be out. But you know, as well as I do, that the rules don’t always apply.”
Ted passed a nervous hand over his face. “Jack, why don’t you...?”
The smile had left Jack’s face, and a scowl darkened his features now. “This is none of your business, Ted,” he warned. “Just keep out of it. Your job is to stay here at the Station for a year.” He paused. “My job is to reach the Moon.”
“But will you reach it? That’s just my point. With a bruised bone, you’re liable to...”
“That’s my worry,” Jack said again. He looked down at the suitcases on the deck. “I think you’d better carry these yourself. I don’t want to take any chances.”
He started down the corridor, leaving Ted with the baggage. At the end of the metal hall, he turned and said, “I’m going to the Moon, Ted, and no one’s going to stop me.”
His mouth set into a tight line, and there was no compromise on his face. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your mouth shut!”
Chapter 5
Accident
Ted dreamed that night. The dream started with a screaming rocket that blazed a fiery trail across the blackness of his mind. The rocket tore up from Earth and disappeared into the clouds, its trail disintegrated into dead ashes among the stars.
And then the sky fell down.
It split open with a terrifying crack, tearing apart like a sheet of black paper. The stars seemed to loosen suddenly from the paper, and they tumbled recklessly toward the ship, closing on it like a giant trap with fiery teeth.
Someone screamed, “Acceleration!” and the stars converged on the metal skin of the ship, battering it in explosive fury. The ship tossed and pitched against the crumbling black paper. There was another terrifying sound, the sound of splintering metal, the grating rasp of the bulkheads ripping apart.
The ship snapped in half, a blinding red flash erupting from its torn skin. Someone shouted, “Acceleration!” again, and Ted sat up in his bunk, sweat covering his body, his pajamas sticking to his skin. He breathed harshly, staring into the darkness.
It was a little while before he realized he himself had been doing the screaming.
He thought about that dream all during the next day. He tried to interest himself in the various marvels of the Station. He visited the Communications Center and listened to the various messages coming from and going to Earth. He found the Celestial Viewing Room, and tried to lose himself in the unhampered vision of the heavens. It was no use.
The dream kept intruding into his conscious mind, and he was finally forced to think about what he knew the dream actually meant.
Jack.
Jack and his injured collarbone.
He wandered down to the mess hall and sat brooding over a glass of milk, his chin cupped in one hand while he traced a pattern on the table top with the other.
He knew that Jack shouldn’t go on the Moon trip. Jack’s sole value was as a spare for any injured member of the crew. Should anything happen to Jack on the trip, he would lose all value completely.
There remained the faint possibility that his collarbone injury was not a serious one. If such were the case, acceleration might not damage it further.
But on the other hand, there was the chance that acceleration would hurt it further, snap it in two perhaps — or perhaps worse.
All right, he asked himself, what are you going to do about it?
He didn’t know. He simply didn’t know.
If Jack were willing to gamble with his own body, or even with his own life, that should be Jack’s business, shouldn’t it? Who was he to interfere?
He nodded his head, mentally agreeing with himself.
A persistent idea shoved at the corners of his mind, though, and he knew he was trying to fool himself.
Jack wasn’t gambling with his own life alone. He was gambling with the safety of every man in the crew. And he was also increasing the odds against the success of the Moon trip.