boat.
Maybe we can see him. Maybe we can get in touch with him from closer to the rings.”
Arpad said, “That’s a wide risk. It would be like finding a needle in a haystack. It would leave us minus still another man—and without any reserve space boat if something should happen.”
Garcia nodded. “It’s out of the question. We dare not risk it. If Dr. Rhodes couldn’t make the trip, then I don’t think any of us are capable of making it.”
Bruce argued again. But Garcia, after listening, shook his head. “We have to act like good soldiers, Bruce. Your father gave specific orders when he left. We were not to wait more than two days. Our time is almost up. We were then to leave without him. Our obligation to him is to obey his instructions. Our discoveries here on Mimas will be his memorial. When we tell Earth about them, they will send other expeditions to examine them.”
“Meanwhile,” Bruce pleaded, “Terraluna will go ahead with its Luna deep-core mining and my father’s warning will be ignored. We are risking all humanity now.”
Garcia turned to Arpad. “It’s up to you then, to cast the deciding vote.” Bruce looked at Arpad.
The young spacehand looked away, got up, his back to them, and stared through the transparent wall of the tent to great Saturn in the sky. Finally he spoke without facing them, “Garcia is right. We can’t risk it.” Bruce realized that his friend had had a hard decision. He choked down a last effort at protest. Garcia put a hand on his shoulder. “Brace up. We’ve got another day to wait. Your father may return before then.”
Bruce and the navigator returned to the ship, Bruce to put things in order for a take-off, Garcia to calculate their course. Bruce went about his duties mechanically, his mind preoccupied with an idea of his own.
What was his true duty? he wondered. His father's life notwithstanding, the fact was that the life of all Earth was at stake if the Rhodes’ calculations were correct. That, he felt, was more important than any one individual’s life. If necessary, only two men could take their ship back to Earth. If he could go himself to the rings, could manage to radio back some proof of his father’s theories, then nothing else would matter.
He was due for his turn at the radio tent next. Then would be the time. So thinking, he went about certain tasks of his own.
Arpad came back from the tent, took off his space suit, announced his intention to take a short nap. Bruce left for the tent to take over the radio watch, carrying a bundle with him. Fortunately nobody noticed.
Pausing at the tent for a moment to confirm that there was no response, he slipped outside and around the other side out of view of the ship. Then he made his way quickly to where the second space boat stood on its wheels, nose pointed at the sky.
Hastily, Bruce deposited the bundle of sandwiches and the metal bottle of oxygen he had brought with him. He knew he had filled the little rocket’s tank when it was first set up. He checked its controls, then switched on its radio, and found it operating.
Then, drawing a breath, he eased himself into the control seat, closed the glassine panel and made the little rocket boat airtight.
From his cramped position in the nose of the little craft, he could see the glowing golden surface of Saturn, and almost in his direction, the white line of the rings’ edge. He switched on the ignition, opened the throttle, watched the gauges indicate that his atomic fuel was flowing into the combustion tubes of the jets. He set his automatic governor, and glancing around once again at the still rocky plain and the low jagged mountains of Mimas, set his teeth, and pulled down the take-off lever.
There was a jolt that threw Bruce back against the cushions of the seat. He felt pressure against his body, and saw the mountainous edge of the plain suddenly draw near. He grasped the controls, pulled back,
Maybe we can see him. Maybe we can get in touch with him from closer to the rings.”
Arpad said, “That’s a wide risk. It would be like finding a needle in a haystack. It would leave us minus still another man—and without any reserve space boat if something should happen.”
Garcia nodded. “It’s out of the question. We dare not risk it. If Dr. Rhodes couldn’t make the trip, then I don’t think any of us are capable of making it.”
Bruce argued again. But Garcia, after listening, shook his head. “We have to act like good soldiers, Bruce. Your father gave specific orders when he left. We were not to wait more than two days. Our time is almost up. We were then to leave without him. Our obligation to him is to obey his instructions. Our discoveries here on Mimas will be his memorial. When we tell Earth about them, they will send other expeditions to examine them.”
“Meanwhile,” Bruce pleaded, “Terraluna will go ahead with its Luna deep-core mining and my father’s warning will be ignored. We are risking all humanity now.”
Garcia turned to Arpad. “It’s up to you then, to cast the deciding vote.” Bruce looked at Arpad.
The young spacehand looked away, got up, his back to them, and stared through the transparent wall of the tent to great Saturn in the sky. Finally he spoke without facing them, “Garcia is right. We can’t risk it.” Bruce realized that his friend had had a hard decision. He choked down a last effort at protest. Garcia put a hand on his shoulder. “Brace up. We’ve got another day to wait. Your father may return before then.”
Bruce and the navigator returned to the ship, Bruce to put things in order for a take-off, Garcia to calculate their course. Bruce went about his duties mechanically, his mind preoccupied with an idea of his own.
What was his true duty? he wondered. His father's life notwithstanding, the fact was that the life of all Earth was at stake if the Rhodes’ calculations were correct. That, he felt, was more important than any one individual’s life. If necessary, only two men could take their ship back to Earth. If he could go himself to the rings, could manage to radio back some proof of his father’s theories, then nothing else would matter.
He was due for his turn at the radio tent next. Then would be the time. So thinking, he went about certain tasks of his own.
Arpad came back from the tent, took off his space suit, announced his intention to take a short nap. Bruce left for the tent to take over the radio watch, carrying a bundle with him. Fortunately nobody noticed.
Pausing at the tent for a moment to confirm that there was no response, he slipped outside and around the other side out of view of the ship. Then he made his way quickly to where the second space boat stood on its wheels, nose pointed at the sky.
Hastily, Bruce deposited the bundle of sandwiches and the metal bottle of oxygen he had brought with him. He knew he had filled the little rocket’s tank when it was first set up. He checked its controls, then switched on its radio, and found it operating.
Then, drawing a breath, he eased himself into the control seat, closed the glassine panel and made the little rocket boat airtight.
From his cramped position in the nose of the little craft, he could see the glowing golden surface of Saturn, and almost in his direction, the white line of the rings’ edge. He switched on the ignition, opened the throttle, watched the gauges indicate that his atomic fuel was flowing into the combustion tubes of the jets. He set his automatic governor, and glancing around once again at the still rocky plain and the low jagged mountains of Mimas, set his teeth, and pulled down the take-off lever.
There was a jolt that threw Bruce back against the cushions of the seat. He felt pressure against his body, and saw the mountainous edge of the plain suddenly draw near. He grasped the controls, pulled back,
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