Henry Still

“ A wrenching tug jostled the space station structure. The rocket was gone, and with it the power that might have saved all of them.
Morrow ran again. He had not stopped running since the beginning of this nightmare.
He tumbled over Bert and Jones in the tube. They scrambled after him back to the control room. The three men watched through the port.
"If he doesn't hit the atmosphere too quick, too hard ..." Kevin whispered. His fists were clenched. He felt no malice at this moment. He did not wish them death. There was no sound in the radio. ”

“ Kevin whispered meditatively. The moon rocket, floating there outside the station's rim was ugly, designed never to touch a planet's atmosphere, but it was the most beautiful thing man had ever built, assembled in space from individual fragments boosted laboriously from the Earth's surface.
Another clatter of footsteps approached the hatch. Max Gordon entered and stood at attention as Senator McKelvie made a dignified entrance. The senator wore an adhesive patch on his high forehead. He turned to Kramer.
"Young man," he rumbled, "are you the fool risking your life in that—that thing out there? ”

“ For three years they've been building a rocket—the moon rocket, they call it—out there at the space station.
"I haven't seen that rocket," the senator had continued. "All I've seen is five billion of your tax dollars flying into the vacuum of space. They tell me a man named Mark Kramer is going to fly out in that rocket and circle the moon.
"But he will fail," McKelvie had promised. "If God had intended man to fly to the moon, he would have given us wings to do it. Tomorrow I shall fly out to this space station, even at the risk of my life. ”

“ Kevin tried to keep his voice calm, but the lives of 90 men rode on it, on his ability to project his words through the crazy hash of static lacing this part of space from the multitude of radio stars. A power rocket with extra fuel was the only instrument that could return the space station to its normal orbit. ”

“ Then Morrow remembered the Earth rocket that had brought Senator McKelvie to the great white sausage in space.
That rocket still contained a small quantity of fuel.
If fired at the precise moment, that fuel, anchored with the rocket in the hub socket, might be enough to lift the entire station.
He shouted instructions and men raced to obey. Kevin, himself, raced into the nearest tube. There was no sound, but ahead of him the hatch was open to the discharge chamber. He leaped into the zero gravity room. ”

“ He turned to Gordon and McKelvie. "Won't it be interesting if we freeze to death, or suffocate when the air machines stop?"
Worry replaced anger as he turned abruptly away from them.
"We've got a lot of work to do, Bert," he said crisply. "See if you can get White Sands."
"It's over the horizon, I'll try South Africa." Anderson worked with the voice radio but static obliterated reception. "Here comes a Morse transmission," he said at last. Morrow read slowly as tape fed out of the translator:
"Radar shows moon rocket in proper trajectory. Where are you?" ”

“ In the airlock the men armed themselves with three heavy rocket pistols each. Morrow ordered other tugmen into suits for standby.
"I wish I could do this alone, Bert," he said soberly. "But I'm glad you're coming along. If we miss, there won't be a second chance."
They knew approximately when they would pass over the rocket launching base, but this time it would be different. The space station would pass at 750 miles altitude and with a new velocity. No one could be sure the feeder rocket would make it. Unless maximum fuel had been adjusted carefully, it might orbit out of reach below them. ”

“ With deceptive ease, the four human tugs attached magnetic shoes and guided the projectile into the space station hub with short, expert blasts of heavy rocket pistols.
"Take over Bert," Morrow directed, "I guess I'm the official greeter." He hurried out of the control room, through a short connecting tube and emerged floating in the central space surrounding the hub where artificial gravity fell to zero. Air pressure was normal to transfer passengers without space suits. ”

“ Bert Alexander radioed quiet instructions to the tugmen.
"Why the hell couldn't he stay down there and mind his own business?" Kevin growled. "McKelvie's been after our hide ever since we got the appropriation, and now this." He slapped the flimsy radio-gram.
He looked up as the control room hatch opened. Jones came in from the astronomy section.
"Morning, commander," he said. "You guys had breakfast yet? Mess closes in 30 minutes." Kevin shook his head.
"We're not hungry," Bert filled in.
"You think you've got nerves?" Jones chuckled. "I just looked in on Mark. He's sleeping like a baby. ”

“ Already Bert was racing down the tube to the power compartment. Minutes later, the intercom dial flickered red. Morrow yelled again.
"You've got to keep power to this radar set for the next half-hour. Everything else can stop, even the air machines, but we've got to find out where we're going."
The space station turned again. Power resumed and Kevin picked up the plot.
"We're 6000 miles out!" he breathed.
"But it's flattening," Jones cried. "The curve's flattening!" Bert loped back into the control room. Jones snatched the pencil from his superior. ”

“ Morrow turned to Anderson.
"Bert. There are four tubes leading into the hub. Get men and open the outer airlocks. Then standby the four inner locks. When I give the signal, open those locks, fast. You may have to pull to help the machinery—you'll be fighting three times normal air pressure."
Bert ran out. Nothing now but to wait. Five minutes passed. Ten.
"We're at 135 miles," Jones said. Far below the Earth wheeled by, its apparent motion exaggerated as the space station swooped lower. ”

“ It'll be a snap. After all, I'll never make over two gees and pick up 7000 mph to leave you guys behind. Then I play ring around the rosy, take a look at Luna's off side and come home. Just like that. ”