A Fall of Moondust

CHAPTER 31

“I still don't think those flags are a good idea”, said Pat as the cruiser pulled away from Port Roris. “They look so phony, when you know they're in vacuum.”

Yet he had to admit that the illusion was excellent, for the lines of pennants draped around the Embarkation Building were stirring and fluttering in a nonexistent breeze. It was all done by springs and electric motors, and would be very confusing to the viewers back on Earth.

This was a big day for Port Roris, and indeed for the whole Moon. He wished that Sue could be here, but she was hardly in proper shape for the trip. Very literally; as she had remarked when he kissed her good-by that morning: “I don't see how women could ever have had babies on Earth. Fancy carrying all this weight around, in six times our gravity.”

Pat turned his mind away from his impending family, and pushed Selene II up to full speed. From the cabin behind him came the “Oh's” and “Ah's” of the thirty-two passengers, as the gray parabolas of dust soared against the sun like monochrome rainbows. This maiden voyage was in daylight; the travelers would miss the Sea's magical phosphorescence, the night ride up the canyon to Crater Lake, the green glories of the motionless Earth. But the novelty and excitement of the journey were the main attractions. Thanks to her ill-fated predecessor, Selene II was one of the best-known vehicles in the solar system.

It was proof of the old saying that there is no such thing as bad publicity. Now that the advance bookings were coming in, the Tourist Commissioner was very glad that he had taken his courage in both hands and insisted on more passenger space. At first he had had to fight to get a new Selene at all. “Once bitten, twice shy”, the Chief Administrator had said, and had capitulated only when Father Ferraro and the Geophysics Division had proved, beyond reasonable doubt, that the Sea would not stir again for another million years.

“Hold her on that course”, said Pat to his copilot. “I'll go back and talk to the customers.”

He was still young enough, and vain enough, to savor the admiring glances as he walked back into the passenger cabin. Everyone aboard would have read of him or seen him on TV; in fact, the very presence of these people here was an implicit vote of confidence. Pat knew well enough that others shared the credit, but he had no false modesty about the role he had played during the last hours of Selene I. His most valued possession was the little golden model of the cruiser that had been a wedding present to Mr. and Mrs. Harris “From all on the last voyage, in sincere appreciation.” That was the only testimonial that counted, and he desired no other.

He had walked halfway down the cabin, exchanging a few words with a passenger here and there, when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

“Hello, Captain”, said an unforgotten voice. “You seem surprised to see me.”

Pat made a quick recovery and flashed his most dazzling official smile.

“It's certainly an unexpected pleasure, Miss Morley. I had no idea you were on the Moon.”

“It's rather a surprise to me. I owe it to the story I wrote about Selene I. I'm covering this trip for Life Interplanetary.”

“I only hope”, said Pat, “that it will be a little less exciting than last time. By the way, are you in touch with any of the others? Doctor McKenzie and the Schusters wrote a few weeks ago, but I've often wondered what happened to poor little Radley after Harding marched him off.”

“Nothing — except that he lost his job. Universal Travel Cards decided that if they prosecuted, everyone would sympathize with Radley, and it would also give other people the same idea. He makes a living, I believe, lecturing to his fellow cultists about 'What I Found on the Moon.' And I'll make you a prediction, Captain Harris.”

“What's that?”

“Some day, he'll get back to the Moon.”

“I rather hope he does. I never did discover just what he expected to find in the Mare Crisium.”

They both laughed. Then Miss Morley said: “I hear you're giving up this job.”

Pat looked slightly embarrassed.

“That's true”, he admitted. “I'm transferring to the Space Service. If I can pass the tests.”

He was by no means sure that he could, yet he knew that he had to make the effort. Driving a moon bus had been an interesting and enjoyable job, but it was also a dead end — as both Sue and the Commodore had now convinced him. And there was another reason.

He had often wondered how many other lives had been changed or diverted when the Sea of Thirst had yawned beneath the stars. No one who had been aboard Selene I could fail to be marked by the experience, in most cases for the better. The fact that he was now having this friendly talk with Miss Morley was sufficient proof of that.

It must also have had a profound effect on the men who had been involved in the rescue effort — especially Doctor Lawson and Chief Engineer Lawrence. Pat had seen Lawson many times, giving his irascible TV talks on scientific subjects; he was grateful to the astronomer, but found it impossible to like him. It seemed, however, that some millions of people did.

As for Lawrence, he was hard at work on his memoirs, provisionally entitled “A Man about the Moon”—and wishing to God he'd never signed the contract. Pat had already helped him on the Selene chapters, and Sue was reading the typescript while waiting for the baby.

“If you'll excuse me”, said Pat, remembering his duties as skipper, “I must attend to the other passengers. But please look us up next time you're in Clavius City.”

“I will”, promised Miss Morley, slightly taken aback but obviously somewhat pleased.

Pat continued his progress to the rear of the cabin, exchanging a greeting here, answering a question there. Then he reached the air-lock galley and closed the door behind him — and was instantly alone.

There was more room here than in Selene I's little air lock, but the basic design was the same. No wonder that memories came flooding back. That might have been the space suit whose oxygen he and McKenzie had shared while all the rest were sleeping; that could have been the wall against which he had pressed his ear, and heard in the night the whisper of the ascending dust. And this whole chamber, indeed, could have been where he had first known Sue, in the literal and Biblical sense.

There was one innovation in this new model — the small window in the outer door. He pressed his face against it, and stared across the speeding surface of the Sea.

He was on the shadowed side of the cruiser, looking away from the sun, into the dark night of space. And presently, as his vision adjusted itself to that darkness, he could see the stars. Only the brighter ones, for there was enough stray light to desensitize his eyes, but there they were — and there also was Jupiter, most brilliant of all the planets next to Venus.

Soon he would be out there, far from his native world. The thought exhilarated and terrified him, but he knew he had to go.

He loved the Moon, but it had tried to kill him: never again could he be wholly at ease out upon its open surface. Though deep space was still more hostile and unforgiving, as yet it had not declared war upon him. With his own world, from now on, there could never be more than an armed neutrality.

The door of the cabin opened, and the stewardess entered with a tray of empty cups. Pat turned away from the window, and from the stars. The next time he saw them, they would be a million times brighter.

He smiled at the neatly uniformed girl, and waved his hand around the little galley.

“This is all yours, Miss Johnson”, he said. “Look after it well.”

Then he walked back to the controls to take Selene II on his last voyage, and her maiden one, across the Sea of Thirst.