high.”
Lemmy chuckled at his own joke but his merriment was cut short by Jet’s saying: “Would you mind seeing Doc safely across to his ship, Lemmy? In a couple of hours we’ll be refuelling Two and Six and I want everybody at their posts.”
I left the Discovery and returned to the freighter, quite disturbed, I must confess, by what Jet had told me. I racked my brains to see how it could possibly all tie together, but eventually had to give up, first because, try as I might, I could find no answer to the enigma and second because, less than half an hour after reaching my own freighter, the order came from Jet to get Number Six ready for the fuelling squads.
Two weeks later we ‘met up’ with the Red Planet absolutely on schedule, increased our speed and went into free orbit round the globe about a thousand miles above its surface. At this height we were above the planet’s atmosphere and could therefore have gone on encircling indefinitely had we chose. In fact, that is what most of the Fleet would be doing until we started back to Earth. But three of the ships, namely the Discovery, and Freighters Number One and Two, were to attempt a landing.
The Discovery was, of course, constructed especially for this purpose. Its two large wings would enable it to glide down through the Martian atmosphere. But the freighters had to be modified. First the massive girders were taken apart and the spherical cabins removed. The main bodies of the ships had been carried in the girders, together with the wings. Now the construction engineers, encased in their suits and attached to their job by their long safety lines, were floating around the ships and reassembling them. They were to act as tenders and carry stores and materials down to the Martian base for the use of the crew of the Discovery and the other men selected to make the landing.
Some two days after we arrived over the planet the job was done. The time to go down had arrived.
While Lemmy, Mitch and I positioned our control panels, Jet went forward to the tiny pilot’s cabin from which he would guide the Discovery down to the surface. As soon as he was safely settled in his seat he called us up on the inter-communication system. “Now,” he said calmly, “I’ll just run over the procedure again for luck. Once the motors have been fired, we should enter the Martian atmosphere within a few minutes. We use its resistance to reduce our speed until it is low enough for us to attempt a landing.”
“I only hope there’s enough atmosphere to make the necessary difference,” said Mitch. “That we’ll find out,” said Jet. “If there isn’t, we’ll attempt a tail-first landing such as we normally make on the Moon. Now, are you all set?”
We were. Jet then called up the pilot of Number One. “Hullo,” he said, “we’ll be on our way in just a few moments. You will wait ninety minutes and then follow. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Jet,” replied Rogers.
“And in the event of your not landing on the prearranged spot you are fully acquainted with the procedure for locating us?”
“Yes, Jet.”
“Thank you, Frank. Then we’ll be off.”
“OK. And good luck, skipper. Good luck to all of you.”
“Same to you,” yelled Lemmy. “We’ll see you down there.”
“OK, Mitch, it’s all yours,” said Jet lightly. “Turn on the motor and I’ll take her down.”
“Stand by for firing,” said Mitch, his voice shaking with excitement. “Contact!”
We felt the motors burst into action and almost at once the Fleet fell behind us as, nose down, we headed for the Martian surface.
Ten minutes later we were in the atmosphere. As we touched it, the ship bounced, like a stone thrown along the surface of a pond. By now the motors had been cut and we were depending on the gravitational pull of Mars to take us down and on the atmosphere to slow us up. An hour and a half later we were gliding, as smoothly as you please, about ten miles above the
Lemmy chuckled at his own joke but his merriment was cut short by Jet’s saying: “Would you mind seeing Doc safely across to his ship, Lemmy? In a couple of hours we’ll be refuelling Two and Six and I want everybody at their posts.”
I left the Discovery and returned to the freighter, quite disturbed, I must confess, by what Jet had told me. I racked my brains to see how it could possibly all tie together, but eventually had to give up, first because, try as I might, I could find no answer to the enigma and second because, less than half an hour after reaching my own freighter, the order came from Jet to get Number Six ready for the fuelling squads.
Two weeks later we ‘met up’ with the Red Planet absolutely on schedule, increased our speed and went into free orbit round the globe about a thousand miles above its surface. At this height we were above the planet’s atmosphere and could therefore have gone on encircling indefinitely had we chose. In fact, that is what most of the Fleet would be doing until we started back to Earth. But three of the ships, namely the Discovery, and Freighters Number One and Two, were to attempt a landing.
The Discovery was, of course, constructed especially for this purpose. Its two large wings would enable it to glide down through the Martian atmosphere. But the freighters had to be modified. First the massive girders were taken apart and the spherical cabins removed. The main bodies of the ships had been carried in the girders, together with the wings. Now the construction engineers, encased in their suits and attached to their job by their long safety lines, were floating around the ships and reassembling them. They were to act as tenders and carry stores and materials down to the Martian base for the use of the crew of the Discovery and the other men selected to make the landing.
Some two days after we arrived over the planet the job was done. The time to go down had arrived.
While Lemmy, Mitch and I positioned our control panels, Jet went forward to the tiny pilot’s cabin from which he would guide the Discovery down to the surface. As soon as he was safely settled in his seat he called us up on the inter-communication system. “Now,” he said calmly, “I’ll just run over the procedure again for luck. Once the motors have been fired, we should enter the Martian atmosphere within a few minutes. We use its resistance to reduce our speed until it is low enough for us to attempt a landing.”
“I only hope there’s enough atmosphere to make the necessary difference,” said Mitch. “That we’ll find out,” said Jet. “If there isn’t, we’ll attempt a tail-first landing such as we normally make on the Moon. Now, are you all set?”
We were. Jet then called up the pilot of Number One. “Hullo,” he said, “we’ll be on our way in just a few moments. You will wait ninety minutes and then follow. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Jet,” replied Rogers.
“And in the event of your not landing on the prearranged spot you are fully acquainted with the procedure for locating us?”
“Yes, Jet.”
“Thank you, Frank. Then we’ll be off.”
“OK. And good luck, skipper. Good luck to all of you.”
“Same to you,” yelled Lemmy. “We’ll see you down there.”
“OK, Mitch, it’s all yours,” said Jet lightly. “Turn on the motor and I’ll take her down.”
“Stand by for firing,” said Mitch, his voice shaking with excitement. “Contact!”
We felt the motors burst into action and almost at once the Fleet fell behind us as, nose down, we headed for the Martian surface.
Ten minutes later we were in the atmosphere. As we touched it, the ship bounced, like a stone thrown along the surface of a pond. By now the motors had been cut and we were depending on the gravitational pull of Mars to take us down and on the atmosphere to slow us up. An hour and a half later we were gliding, as smoothly as you please, about ten miles above the
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