Dombey said, “Hey, today’s Tuesday! Maybe that’s good luck—landing on Tuesday on Tuesday!”
Rand smiled faintly. He kept on working, and got the lifeship aimed toward the continent where the rescue beacon had been set up. With luck, he thought, we’ll land there.
After that, the next problem was finding the beacon once they had landed. The Clyde F. Bohmer’s computer could have guided the lifeship to a landing in exactly the right spot. Rand, doing the best he could without the computer, knew he’d be doing well to come down within a thousand miles of the beacon.
One headache at a time, though, he told himself. And the first job was to land the lifeship without getting killed.
Chapter 6
They were getting closer and closer to the planet called Tuesday.
The lifeship swung around the planet in an orbit that was almost a circle. Each time around, the ship moved in, getting a little nearer to its goal. Before long it would be close enough to pass through Tuesday’s atmosphere. Then Rand would fire the braking jets to slow the ship, and bring it in for a landing.
He was working hard. He couldn’t relax for a minute, now. He had to keep checking the orbit, making certain the ship was taking the right path down.
He glanced back at the two men in the acceleration couches. Dombey was completely relaxed. He was grinning, and he was rocking back and forth in rhythm with the pounding of the engines. He looked like he was enjoying himself.
Leswick was more nervous. He was peering at the control board with beady eyes, watching everything Rand was doing.
Rand smiled, but it was a tense smile. The lives of these two men were in his hands. They could never have piloted this lifeship anywhere. What did they know of orbits and thrust, of jet compensation and mass ratios, and all the rest?
Nothing. Nothing at all.
Their lives depended on Rand’s ability to turn book-learning into practical skills. His training in spaceship theory had simply been part of his general education as an engineer. But it was turning out to be awfully important knowledge. Leswick and the big jetmonkey were just dead weight on this trip, Rand thought. Just dead weight.
Leswick said, “How much longer before we reach that planet?”
“Relax,” Rand said. “We’re on our way.”
The planet called Tuesday was rapidly growing in the front viewscreen. Rand felt the ice-cold lump of tension inside him beginning to melt. In its place came a sort of quiet joy, as he realized that his know-how and his logical outlook were going to get them there.
Who said piloting spaceships is tough work, he thought? There’s nothing to it! It’s a cinch!
Tuesday was close enough now so Rand could see the continent where the rescue beacon was supposed to be. It was a round continent with jagged edges and ocean all around it. A huge river ran on an angle from northwest to southeast. There were some big lakes in the southwest.
The middle of the continent was a deep green color. As though a dense jungle covered everything.
In another few minutes, the lifeship would be landing. Rand couldn’t stay at the control panel any longer. He got up and moved across the little cabin toward the empty acceleration couch next to Leswick.
“What’s the matter?” Leswick asked.
Rand strapped himself into the acceleration couch. He stretched out on the foamy plastic cushion.
“We’re about to land,” he said. “I’m letting the automatic pilot bring us down. It may be a bumpy landing, and I want all the padding I can get when we hit.”
He hoped all his calculations had been right. There was nothing he could do about it at this point, though, if he’d made a mistake. Right now all they could do was hang on tight and pray.
The lifeship rushed toward the planet.
Tuesday’s jungles grew on the viewscreen. The television cameras in the lifeship’s nose showed giant trees tightly packed together.
Down—down—
“Here we come!” Rand yelled.
The braking jets were firing now. The lifeship’s engines were trying to slow the ship’s fall toward the planet. Moment by moment the speed dropped.
Down—
Down through the treetops. Rand closed his eyes. He felt the impact as the lifeship smashed through the green roof of the jungle. How fast would they be going when they hit solid ground? Too fast, maybe?
The moment of landing arrived.
The lifeship swayed wildly as it sliced into the trees. It bounced from tree to tree, nearly flipped over, and somehow managed to come down right side up.
Hard.
It cracked into the jungle floor and came to rest.
Rand opened his eyes one at a time. He wriggled his shoulders. He lifted his legs. His body seemed to be working right, so he hadn’t broken anything. He felt a little shaken up, that was all. For the first time he understood what it might be like to be a scrambled egg.
“Everybody okay back there?” he called. “Dombey? Leswick?”
“That was a bumpy one, boss,” Dombey said.
“We made it, didn’t we?” Rand unstrapped himself and looked around the cabin. “Hey, Leswick! Leswick?”
The expert on Metaphysical Synthesis looked a little groggy. He seemed a little green in the face, too. Leswick put his hand to his forehead as if trying to wipe away an imaginary spiderweb that covered his eyes. But he said, “I’m still in one piece—I think.”
“The ship sure ain’t,” Dombey said.
Rand nodded. The force of the landing had cracked and dented and split the wall of the lifeship in many places. The lifeship’s hatch had popped, and was wide open. Rand swung himself through it and dropped lightly to the ground outside the ship.
The landing had made quite a mess. Out of the ship, and out of the jungle, too.
Huge trees had been snapped off and thrown around like twigs. There was fallen timber everywhere. The braking jets had scorched the ground over a wide area. Tangled vines trailed down from trees that hadn’t fallen.
The lifeship had plowed deep into the soft, spongy ground. It had smashed up its landing fins, ruined its jets, and demolished most of its rear assembly. That was one ship that wasn’t going anywhere ever again.
But the three passengers had come through the landing in good shape. And that was the important thing, after all.
Dombey came out of the ship after Rand. He took a deep breath. “It smells pretty good,” the jetmonkey said. He stood leaning against the ship’s battered hull, his legs planted firmly in the turned-up soil, his head thrown back. “Smells just like air—real air. Good place, huh?”
Leswick peered through the open hatch. He said uneasily, “Isn’t it dangerous? Should we breathe the air of an unknown world without making some sort of test?”
Rand grinned. “We are making a test. We’re breathing the air, and it isn’t killing us. Risky, but it happens to be the only test we’re equipped to make. We’re not carrying much in the way of scientific instruments on this ship.”
“Well—”
“Anyway,” Rand went on, “the ship split open before we had a chance to put spacesuits on. So we were breathing the air right away, and it didn’t hurt us. Why make a fuss now?”
“Suppose it does some long-range harm to us?”
“The chartbook says that this planet has air that Earthmen can breathe,” Rand replied. “Which means it’s mostly nitrogen and oxygen and good things like that, with no poisonous stuff like methane thrown in. And besides that, what metaphysical suggestion would you have for going somewhere else, if the air wasn’t good here? The lifeship’s wrecked, you know.”
Leswick shrugged. “I guess you’re right. I don’t know.”