«I never intended to … I didn’t …»
But she was already turning away from him, walking toward the men who were running up to meet them from the trucks. One of them, a civilian, had a camera in his hands. He dropped to one knee and took a picture of Linda holding the film out and smiling broadly.
Kinsman stood there with his mouth hanging open.
Jill came back to him. «Well? Did you get what you were after?»
«No,» he said slowly. «I guess I didn’t.»
She started to put her hand out to him. «We never do, do we?»
TEST IN ORBIT
Kinsman snapped awake when the phone went off. Before it could complete its first ring he had the receiver off its cradle.
«Captain Kinsman?» The motel’s night clerk.
«Yes,» he whispered back, squinting at the luminous dial of his wristwatch: three twenty-three.
«I’m awfully sorry to disturb you, Captain, but Colonel Murdock called—»
«How the hell did he know I was here?»
«He said he’s calling all the motels around the base. I didn’t tell him you were here. He said when he found you he wanted you to report to him at once. Those were his words, Captain: at once.»
Kinsman frowned in the darkness. «Okay. Thanks for playing dumb.»
«Not at all, sir. Hope it isn’t trouble.»
«Yeah.» Kinsman hung up. He sat for a half-minute on the edge of the bed. Murdock making the rounds of the motels at three in the morning and the clerk hopes it’s not trouble. Very funny.
He stood up, stretched his wiry frame and glanced at the woman still sleeping quietly on the other side of the bed. With a wistful shake of his head, he padded out to the bathroom.
He flipped the light switch and turned on the coffee machine on the wall next to the doorway. It’s lousy but it’s coffee. As the machine started gurgling, he softly closed the door and rummaged through his travel kit for the electric razor. The face that met him in the mirror was lean and long-jawed, with jet black hair cut down to military length and soft blue-gray eyes that were, at the moment, just the slightest bit bloodshot.
Within a few minutes he was shaved, showered, and back in Air Force blues. He left a scribbled note on motel stationery leaning against the dresser mirror, took a final long look at the woman, then went out to find his car.
He put down the top of his old convertible and gunned her out onto the coast road. As he raced through the predawn darkness, wind whistling all around him, Kinsman could feel the excitement building up. A pair of cars zoomed past him, doing eighty, heading for the base. Kinsman held to the legal limit and caught them again at the main gate, lined up while the guard sergeant checked ID badges with extra care. Kinsman’s turn came.
«What’s the stew, Sergeant?»
The guard flashed his hand light on the badge Kinsman held in his outstretched hand.
«Dunno, sir. We got the word to look sharp.»
The light flashed full in Kinsman’s face. Painfully sharp, he thought to himself.
The guard waved him on.
There was that special crackle in the air as Kinsman drove toward the Administration Building. The kind that comes only when a launch is imminent. As if in answer to his unspoken hunch, the floodlights on Complex 17 bloomed into life, etching the tall, silver rocket standing there, embraced by the dark spiderwork of the gantry tower.
Pad 17. Manned shot.
People were scurrying in and out of the Administration Building: sleepy-eyed, disheveled, but their feet were moving double time. Colonel Murdock’s secretary was coming down the hallway as Kinsman signed in at the reception desk.
«What’s up, Annie?»
«I just got here myself,» she said. There were hairclips still in her blonde curls. «The boss told me to flag you down the instant you arrived.»
Even from completely across the colonel’s spacious office, Kinsman could see that Murdock was a round little kettle of nerves. He was standing by the window behind his desk, watching the activity on Pad 17, clenching and unclenching his hands behind his back. His bald head was glistening with perspiration, despite the frigid air conditioning. Kinsman stood at the door with the secretary.
«Colonel?» she said softly.
Murdock spun around. «Kinsman. So here you are.»
«What’s going on? I thought the next manned shot wasn’t until—»
The colonel waved a pudgy hand. «The next manned shot is as fast as we can damned well make it.» He walked around the desk and eyed Kinsman. «You look a mess.»
«Hell, it’s four in the morning!»
«No excuses. Get over to the medical section for pre-flight check out. They’ve been waiting for you.»
«I’d still like to know …»
«Probably ought to test your blood for alcohol content,» Murdock grumbled.
«I’ve been celebrating my transfer,» Kinsman said. «I’m not supposed to be on active duty. Six more days and I’m a civilian spaceman. Get my picture in Photo Day and I’m off to the moon. Remember?»
«Cut the clowning. General Hatch is flying in from Norton Field and he wants you.»
«Hatch?»
«That’s right. He wants the most experienced man available.»
«Twenty guys on base and you have to make me available.»
Murdock fumed. «Listen. This is a military operation. I may not insist on much discipline, but don’t think you’re a civilian glamour boy yet. You’re still in the Air Force and there’s a hell of a bind on. Hatch wants you. Understand?»
Kinsman shrugged. «If you saw what I had to leave behind me to report for duty here, you’d put me up for the Medal of Honor.»
Murdock frowned in exasperation. The secretary tried unsuccessfully to suppress a smile.
«All right, joker. Get down to the medical section. On the double. Anne, you stick with him and bring him to the briefing room the instant he’s finished. General Hatch will be here in twenty minutes; I don’t want to keep him waiting any longer than I have to.»
Kinsman stood at the doorway, not moving. «Will you please tell me just what this scramble is all about?»
«Ask the general,» Murdock said, walking back toward his desk. He glanced out the window again, then turned back to Kinsman. «All I know is that Hatch wants the man with the most hours in orbit ready for a shot, immediately.»
«Manned shots are all volunteer missions,» Kinsman pointed out.
«So?»
«I’m practically a civilian. There are nineteen other guys who—»
«Dammit Kinsman, if you …»
«Relax, Colonel. Relax. I won’t let you down. Not when there’s a chance to get a few hundred miles away from all the brass on Earth.»
Murdock stood there glowering as Kinsman took the secretary out to his car. As they sped off toward the medical section, she looked at him.
«You shouldn’t bait him like that,» she said. «He feels the pressure a lot more than you do.»
«He’s insecure,» Kinsman said, grinning. «There’re only twenty men in the Air Force qualified for orbital missions, and he’s not one of them.»
«And you are.»
«Damned right, honey. It’s the only thing in the world worth doing. You ought to try it.»
She put a hand up to her wind-whipped hair. «Me? Flying in orbit? No gravity?»
«It’s a clean world, Annie. Brand new every time. Just you and your own little cosmos. Your life is completely your own. Once you’ve done it, there’s nothing left on Earth but to wait for the next shot.»
«My God, you sound as though you really mean it.»
«I’m serious,» he insisted. «The Reds have female cosmonauts. We’re going to be putting women in orbit, eventually. Get your name on the top of the list.»