face bore the expression Mason knew well. A look of smug analysis, of impending decision.
“What do you think it is?” Mason asked, playing the strings of vanity in his captain.
“Might be a ship, might not be,” pronounced Ross.
Well, for God’s sake, let’s go down and see, Mason wanted to say, but knew he couldn’t. It would have to be Ross’s decision. Otherwise they might not even stop.
“I guess it’s nothing,” he prodded.
He watched Ross impatiently, watched the stubby fingers flick buttons for the viewer.
“We might stop,” Ross said. “We have to take samples anyway. Only thing I’m afraid of is... “
He shook his head. Land, man! The words bubbled up in Mason’s throat. For God’s sake, let’s go down!
Ross evaluated. His thickish lips pressed together appraisingly. Mason held his breath.
Then Ross’s head bobbed once in that curt movement which indicated consummated decision. Mason breathed again. He watched the captain spin, push and twist dials. Felt the ship begin its tilt to upright position. Felt the cabin shuddering slightly as the gyroscope kept it on an even keel. The sky did a ninety-degree turn, clouds appeared through the thick ports. Then the ship was pointed at the planet’s sun and Ross switched off the cruising engines. The ship hesitated, suspended a split second, then began dropping toward the earth.
“Hey, we settin’ down already?”
Mickey Carter looked at them questioningly from the port door that led to the storage lockers. He was rubbing greasy hands over his green jumper legs.
“We saw something down there,” Mason said.
“No kiddin’,” Mickey said, coming over to Mason’s viewer. “Let’s see.”
Mason flicked on the rear lens. The two of them watched the planet billowing up at them.
“I don’t know whether you can... oh, yes, there it is,” Mason said. He looked over at Ross.
“Two degrees east,” he said.
Ross twisted a dial and the ship then changed its downward movement slightly.
“What do you think it is?” Mickey asked.
“Hey!”
Mickey looked into the viewer with even greater interest. His wide eyes examined the shiny speck enlarging on the screen.
“Could be a ship,” he said. “Could be.”
Then he stood there silently, behind Mason, watching the earth rushing up.
“Reactors,” said Mason.
Ross jabbed efficiently at the button and the ship’s engines spouted out their flaming gases. Speed decreased. The rocket eased down on its roaring fire jets. Ross guided.
“What do you think it is?” Mickey asked Mason.
“I don’t know,” Mason answered. “But if it’s a ship,” he added, half wishfully thinking, “I don’t see how it could possibly be from Earth. We’ve got this run all to ourselves.”
“Maybe they got off course,” Mickey dampened without knowing.
Mason shrugged. “I doubt it,” he said.
“What if it is a ship?” Mickey said. “And it’s not ours?”
Mason looked at him and Carter licked his lips.
“Man,” he said, “that’d be somethin’.”
“Air spring,” Ross ordered.
Mason threw the switch that set the air spring into operation. The unit which made possible a landing without then having to stretch out on thick-cushioned couches. They could stand on deck and hardly feel the impact. It was an innovation on the newer government ships.
The ship hit on its rear braces.
There was a sensation of jarring, a sense of slight bouncing. Then the ship was still, its pointed nose straight up, glittering brilliantly in the bright sunlight.
“I want us to stay together,” Ross was saying. “No one takes any risks. That’s an order.”
He got up from his seat and pointed at the wall switch that let atmosphere into the small chamber in the corner of the cabin.
“Three to one we need our helmets,” Mickey said to Mason.
“You’re on,” Mason said, setting into play their standing bet about the air or lack of it in every new planet they found. Mickey always bet on the
“What do you think it is?” Mason asked, playing the strings of vanity in his captain.
“Might be a ship, might not be,” pronounced Ross.
Well, for God’s sake, let’s go down and see, Mason wanted to say, but knew he couldn’t. It would have to be Ross’s decision. Otherwise they might not even stop.
“I guess it’s nothing,” he prodded.
He watched Ross impatiently, watched the stubby fingers flick buttons for the viewer.
“We might stop,” Ross said. “We have to take samples anyway. Only thing I’m afraid of is... “
He shook his head. Land, man! The words bubbled up in Mason’s throat. For God’s sake, let’s go down!
Ross evaluated. His thickish lips pressed together appraisingly. Mason held his breath.
Then Ross’s head bobbed once in that curt movement which indicated consummated decision. Mason breathed again. He watched the captain spin, push and twist dials. Felt the ship begin its tilt to upright position. Felt the cabin shuddering slightly as the gyroscope kept it on an even keel. The sky did a ninety-degree turn, clouds appeared through the thick ports. Then the ship was pointed at the planet’s sun and Ross switched off the cruising engines. The ship hesitated, suspended a split second, then began dropping toward the earth.
“Hey, we settin’ down already?”
Mickey Carter looked at them questioningly from the port door that led to the storage lockers. He was rubbing greasy hands over his green jumper legs.
“We saw something down there,” Mason said.
“No kiddin’,” Mickey said, coming over to Mason’s viewer. “Let’s see.”
Mason flicked on the rear lens. The two of them watched the planet billowing up at them.
“I don’t know whether you can... oh, yes, there it is,” Mason said. He looked over at Ross.
“Two degrees east,” he said.
Ross twisted a dial and the ship then changed its downward movement slightly.
“What do you think it is?” Mickey asked.
“Hey!”
Mickey looked into the viewer with even greater interest. His wide eyes examined the shiny speck enlarging on the screen.
“Could be a ship,” he said. “Could be.”
Then he stood there silently, behind Mason, watching the earth rushing up.
“Reactors,” said Mason.
Ross jabbed efficiently at the button and the ship’s engines spouted out their flaming gases. Speed decreased. The rocket eased down on its roaring fire jets. Ross guided.
“What do you think it is?” Mickey asked Mason.
“I don’t know,” Mason answered. “But if it’s a ship,” he added, half wishfully thinking, “I don’t see how it could possibly be from Earth. We’ve got this run all to ourselves.”
“Maybe they got off course,” Mickey dampened without knowing.
Mason shrugged. “I doubt it,” he said.
“What if it is a ship?” Mickey said. “And it’s not ours?”
Mason looked at him and Carter licked his lips.
“Man,” he said, “that’d be somethin’.”
“Air spring,” Ross ordered.
Mason threw the switch that set the air spring into operation. The unit which made possible a landing without then having to stretch out on thick-cushioned couches. They could stand on deck and hardly feel the impact. It was an innovation on the newer government ships.
The ship hit on its rear braces.
There was a sensation of jarring, a sense of slight bouncing. Then the ship was still, its pointed nose straight up, glittering brilliantly in the bright sunlight.
“I want us to stay together,” Ross was saying. “No one takes any risks. That’s an order.”
He got up from his seat and pointed at the wall switch that let atmosphere into the small chamber in the corner of the cabin.
“Three to one we need our helmets,” Mickey said to Mason.
“You’re on,” Mason said, setting into play their standing bet about the air or lack of it in every new planet they found. Mickey always bet on the
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