They filed into the two shuttles, fifty men and four pilots glide-walking through the narrow access tunnels that connected the station’s hub to the waiting shuttles’ hatches. The pilots went in first, in their usual blue coveralls. Then came the troops, looking weirdly out of place in olive drab uniforms and metal helmets, with bulky packs on their backs and slung weapons poking awkwardly. They shuffled uncertainly through the tunnels, hands outstretched so that their fingertips could touch the fabric-covered walls for balance.
Alec hovered at the station’s main hatch and watched his men as they passed him, silent and grim-faced. The only sound was the occasional clink of metal or plastic, the shuffling of booted feet. When the last of them had disappeared into the tunnel, Alec pushed himself in, made his way through and stepped into the shuttle.
Two dozen men were strapping themselves into their seats. Packs and weapons were unslung and stowed in the special compartments overhead. Alec stood at the hatch for a moment. He had inspected the shuttles a dozen times over the previous weeks, but this was the first time he’d seen one occupied since they had arrived at the satellite station. The usual odors of lubricants and plastic and ozone were overwhelmed now by the smell of human sweat and gun oil. As he made his way up to the empty double seat at the front of the passenger compartment, Alec realized with a pang just how old the shuttles were. The plastic flooring was worn thin, the metal walls so scratched that they were starting to look almost polished. The shuttles had been built long before the sky burned, and kept in repair by the lunar engineers with a tenderness that approached blind religious faith.
Our link with Earth, Alec knew. And our only link back home again.
As he stopped in the aisle beside the seat and slipped off his own bulky pack, Alec wondered if he should say anything to his men. Many of them would have preferred Kobol’s leadership to his own, he knew. Many of them resented, even questioned, his speed-up of the mission schedule.
“With any luck at all,” he said, loudly enough to make them jerk with surprise, halt their whispered conversations, and look up at him.
“With any luck at all,” Alec repeated, “we’ll all be back aboard this bucket in thirty-six hours or less. That’s why I speeded up the schedule... so we could all make it back, quick and safe.”
They grinned, they nodded. They returned to their buzzing conversations, but it was brighter now, looser. Alec sat down and strapped in.
“Separation in five minutes,” said the pilot’s voice over the intercom. “Ignition in seven minutes.”
Despite himself, Alec tensed. And if we do get in and out so quickly, what chance do I have of finding my father? But somewhere deep in his guts Alec knew that he and his father were going to meet down there on the surface of Earth. One way or another, they would meet. And one of them would die.
The separation and ignition were so gentle that if the pilot had not told them about it on the intercom Alec would have questioned their occurrence. There were no windows in the passenger compartment, and he felt only the slightest pressure and vibration of the retrorocket firing.
“We’re on our way, on trajectory, and all systems are on the mark,” the pilot reported happily.
Alec unstrapped and stood up gingerly. With one hand on the grip set into the bulkhead in front of him, he tapped on the hatch that separated the passenger compartment from the cockpit.
The copilot opened the hatch and Alec squeezed into the cramped world of green-glowing panel lights and data displays, two stripped-down control chairs, and dials and switches that literally surrounded the two pilots, spreading in front of them, to their sides, across the console between their chairs, even overhead. Through the narrow windshield windows Alec could see the vast brilliant bulk of Earth sweeping past them.
“Everything on the mark,” the copilot said cheerfully. “We’ll be buttoning up for re-entry in about ten minutes.”
Nodding, Alec asked, “What about Kobol’s ship?”
“Just got a buzz from them; all okay.”
“Can we see them?”
“Not visually.” The copilot pointed to a circular screen in the panel between the seats. A luminous yellow arm swept around it; a single fat dot hovered in the lower right quadrant. Other dots, smaller and fainter, stood out toward the edge of the screen.
“That’s them, right behind us,” the copilot said. “The other blips are the station and smaller satellites passing this area.”
“I see.”
“Sorry we don’t have room for you up here,” the pilot said, without taking his eyes off his instruments.
Alec got the hint. Commander or not, the pilot was in charge here and Alec was in his way. Grinning, he answered, “I’ll be too busy to say thanks once we land, so I’ll say it now. Good flight!”
“Thank you,” the copilot replied, with a big smile.
Sitting back in his seat in the passenger section, Alec repeated to himself: Speed. Speed and surprise. If there is an enemy out there, don’t give him time to think. Don’t give yourself time to have second thoughts.
But he had his doubts, just the same. What if I freeze up? What if I get to the hatch and I can’t step through?
He glanced at Jameson, sitting across the aisle, so relaxed that he seemed almost to be sleeping. Abruptly, Alec pushed himself out of the seat and unlatched the overhead bin. Guiding his weightless equipment before him he glided down the aisle to the seat nearest the hatch.
“Would you please take the first seat, up forward?” he asked the startled youngster sitting on the aisle seat. “Take your gear with you.”
Clearly puzzled, the young man did as he was told. Alec stowed his own gear and strapped in next to an equally-surprised-looking kid. He said nothing.
“Re-entry commencing in one minute. Strap down tight,” said the intercom voice.
It got rough enough to drive other fears from his mind. Alec felt the shuttle biting into Earth’s heavy, turbulent atmosphere; felt the g forces that made the straps cut into his suddenly-heavy body. His hands were too massive to lift off the armrests. His neck and shoulder muscles cramped under the strain of holding his head up. His palms started to sweat. It began to feel stiflingly hot inside the shuttle.
Nonsense! Alec told himself. It’s your imagination. But every man there knew that the outer skin of the shuttle was bathed in fiery air, heated to incandescence by the speed of their re-entry.
Makes a perfect radar target, he thought. Do they have radars working?
The shuttle lurched, staggered. Alec felt himself driven deeply into his seat, then suddenly dropping, his stomach nearly heaving.
“Sorry,” the copilot’s voice came over the intercom, no longer cheerful. “Kinda bumpy out there. We’re through re-entry and flying in the lower portion of the atmosphere. Not too smooth, but nothing to worry about.”
Swaying, bouncing, shuddering, they sat in suffering, frightened silence for an eternity of about five minutes.
“There’s the airfield! Touchdown in two-three more minutes. Might be rough.”
With a terrifying roar the landing wheel hatches opened beneath them. Despite their training, most of the men were clearly startled.
“Get ready for the landing,” Alec shouted over the din of the rushing wind. “As soon as the pilot gives the word we pop the hatch and start moving.”
The impact of hitting the ground was unmistakable. The shuttle bounced once, hit again, then rolled onward with a wild screeching of brakes and roar of retrorockets. Alec leaned against his shoulder straps, felt his head pushing forward.
Then abruptly the noise and motion ceased.
“Okay. We’re down,” the pilot reported tersely.
Behind him, Alec heard the main hatch crack open. He took one fast breath, then grabbed at his harness buckle. Standing up and reaching for his helmet, pack, and machine pistol, he commanded the others, “All right—let’s move!”
The man from the other side of the aisle swung the hatch open. Alec gestured him back as he hefted his light gun over his shoulder.
“The steps are jammed,” the man grumbled.
Alec nodded once, then without even thinking about it he jumped from the lip of the hatch. He barely had time to realize how fast he was falling when he hit the ground with a solid thump that buckled his knees. He put his hands out to brace himself and managed to keep from toppling over.
Unslinging his gun, he stepped away from the shuttle quickly. The other men were jumping behind him with a steady succession of thumps and oofs.
“All right, you know your positions,” he waved his free arm at them. “Spread out and form a perimeter.”
