Marooned on Mars

CHAPTER 4 Stowaway to Mars

The area around the Eros was bathed in floodlights the next morning, and half of Moon City had turned out to watch the test flight. The Moon had swung about on its orbit until all of Albategnius crater was in darkness. Now one of the big searchlights swung around to follow a little tractor that came toward the ship, bearing five figures in clean, new space suits.

Captain Miles Vance, pilot Nat Rothman, and Lew Wong; of the crew, would make the test Jeff Foldingchair, dressed in a slightly oversized suit designed for the crew doctor, was going at the request of the Space Commission, since his experience might be needed in an emergency. The fifth suit was worn by Chuck. It had come out from Earth before the Council’s decision, and was too good to waste. There was even a tiny radio in the helmet which would enable him to talk with the others wearing similar suits.

Now Captain Vance’s voice sounded in the headphones. “Still time to change your mind. Chuck.”

“No.” Out of habit, he shook his bead inside the helmet, f “I’m not going as supercargo. Anyhow, Mom didn’t like the idea of my being on the test, so I promised her I wouldn’t. She still thinks the ship may crack up, unless the test proves it to her.”

He snapped the little switch in his glove, cutting off any further conversation, and jumped off the tractor to join the crowd. People were already moving back out of the danger area.

Chuck hadn’t even wanted to watch the test, but now some of the crowd feeling seemed to reach him. The tractor went on to the ladder leading up to the ship’s air lock, and his eyes followed the four figures up and into the ship.

Another helmet touched his, and he turned to see the Governor. “Bonan matenon. Chuck. Feel better now?”

Chuck tried to grin. He still felt the same, but there was no use blaming the Governor or making him fed worse.

“I guess so,” he said. “But I’d still rather stay on the Moon.”

“U-m-m-m. Well, you know, I even sent out feelers to Earth—but they’re going ahead with plans for you. Cheer up, boy, you’ll enjoy the university life. It’s just taking a little time to get used to the idea.”

Chuck nodded again, and drew back info the crowd. The Governor had grown up when airplanes were the glamorous machines, and couldn’t know what it was like to be born with a yearning for space and other worlds.

Now the crowd was drawing back faster. Chuck found a position where a convenient rock gave him a seat, and dropped onto it. The Eros sent a tentative spurt of shooting flame from its tubes, leaping two feet off the surface. It settled back, while meters were being read and compared with expected figures. Then the floodlights bunked twice, and the crowd tensed.

This time the flames from the rockets were a deep purple that seemed to etch the ground out from under them; the sound traveled through the rocks, and set up vibrations in the soles of Chuck’s boots. The huge ship jumped from the ground like a race horse leaving the post. It leaped a hundred feet, five hundred, a mile, almost before Chuck could raise his neck to follow it.

Then it was only a hot, blue speck in the blackness of the sky. It continued for a full minute, before the flame vanished as the drive was cut. Chuck waited, knowing they were turning the ship over to blast against its direction and slow it. Finally, the blueness appeared again, but soon stopped. Now the ship would be drifting back slowly toward the Moon, while they checked the performance and again turned its rockets to point downward.

It was nearly twenty minutes before the blast shot out again, and the speck turned into a ship. Rothman’s piloting was less than Jeff’s would have been. The ship came to a halt fifty feet above the surface, and he had to take an extra blast to settle it, after the original cut-off. But it still was a good landing.

The test was obviously successful.

There was a buzz in Chuck’s ears, and he cut his radio back on, to hear Jeff’s voice. “Chuck! Stick around, will you? I’m leaving these boys to their figures, so I’ll walk back with you.”

Chuck acknowledged it, and moved as close to the ship as he could. It was nearly ten minutes before the ground had cooled enough for Jeff to come out The pilot indicated the tiny aerial on his helmet, and jabbed twice. Chuck moved his switch away from the common channel for all the suits to second position, where he could talk to Jeff in privacy.

“How’d she handle?” he asked.

“Like a dream, kid. She’s big and fat and built like a tub, but she has a lively set of heels. Now, what’s all this about your being shipped back? You’re no desk-jockey. I thought your father and I had it all fixed up for you to turn pilot!”

Chuck located a small tractor and started it toward the other crater as he tried to explain things to Jeff. The pilot

grunted in disgust at the stupidity of all men who couldn’t appreciate the lure of the rockets. But he agreed with the Governor.

“Once your permit’s lifted, you’re sunk. They’d call you| an ungrateful puppy if you appealed it; anyhow, Braithwaite has to keep them happy if we’re to get a bigger appropriation to set up a second colony. His hands are tied.”

“I know it. I’m not blaming anyone, Jeff. But it doesn’t make me any happier.”

“Nor your Dad. I guess he wanted you to go as much as you did. Your family got used to losing you for a couple years on the Mars hop, but they don’t like getting along without you for something you don’t want. Look, how about coming over to my place? I picked up a couple of mincemeat pies; they got crushed a bit, but they’re edible.”

Chuck wasn’t hungry, even for pies, but he didn’t feel like going back to his own room and moping. He nodded, and they turned toward the entrance to the bachelor quarters. Jeff’s room was filled with books and relics of the early rocket days and it was surprisingly comfortable,

Jeff sliced the pies, beginning a long story about the early trips he had made. In spite of himself. Chuck found himself listening. It was late afternoon before he finally stood up to go.

Jeff walked down the tunnel toward the Svensen apartment with him. “It’s quite a ship, that Eros,” he said suddenly. “More room. You could hide an army in the hydroponic gardens. If I were a little younger and crazier, I’d have sneaked aboard some night, like that young fool I was telling you about on our fifth trip up here. She’ll be gone about two years and it’ll be some trip. Hey!”

Chuck looked up at his shout. “What, Jeff?”

“Just hit me. You’ll probably get your permit back about the time the Eros returns. At least you can get up to see her come in.” They reached the apartment, and he turned to go. “Look me up before they ship you back, kid.”

Chuck found his family already seated at the table, discussing the new work Svensen would be doing in the high vacuum labs, now that work on the Eros was finished. But his father dropped it as he came in.

“The Governor fixed it for you and me to watch the take-off from the radar building,” he said. “That way we can follow what goes on. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you get a chance to handle communications.”

Chuck knew it should cheer him up, but his head was too full of the last words Jeff had said. He dropped into a chair. “Thanks, Dad. But—well, I’ve been thinking maybe I won’t watch the take-off.”

“Oh!” Quick, understanding ran over his father’s face. “Okay, son, just as you like.” He went back to the details of his new job.

Chuck played with his food, trying to eat, but the new idea that had hit him was taking all his attention. He finished as quickly as he could and stood up. His mother was shaking her head over the food he had left, and he kissed her quickly. “I guess I’m just tired. I’m going to bed.”

“I won’t wake you in the morning. Chuck,” his father promised.

It fitted perfectly with the idea. Chuck thought. He shut the door behind him, and dropped onto the bed. Then, because his family might look in on him, he climbed in, clothes and all, and pulled the sheets up to his neck.

It would take two years to get his permit back; but by then he’d be too far along with schooling to quit, and he’d still have four more years to go on Earth. If he had been going on the Eros, though, he could get a permit when he returned—and there’d be no strings. His father wanted him to go, anyhow, even his mother had approved of the trip. It wasn’t as if he’d be useless; the examinations had proved his fitness for the trip.

He tried to remember Jeff’s story of the boy who’d stowed away on the early Moon rocket. Jeff couldn’t have known what he was saying. But the idea wouldn’t leave. Of course, the Council would be angry; but in two years they’d forget—and they wouldn’t deny a new permit to anyone who’d been on Mars!

He tossed about, trying to plan some way to get aboard the ship. Suddenly he realized that his mind was made up— he was going! They weren’t going to turn him into a humdrum research man back on Earth after he’d been all set to explore the mystery of other planets. He’d stow away!

He waited, listening to the sounds of the family. It seemed to take an endless time to wash the dishes, put them away, and then discuss things—probably worry about him. He wondered how his mother would take his running off; then he remembered that her father had run off to join the Air Force, and that it was one of her chief sources of pride. She’d understand—and his father would be secretly pleased.

There was a final stir as they prepared for bed. He heard his mother’s steps at his door, and quickly feigned sleep. A shaft of light touched his face. Then the door closed, and he heard the door to the main bedroom shut

He waited another half-hour to be safe. Finally, he got up and turned on his writing light. The note was an awkward one—he knew he couldn’t say what he wanted to. But it would have to do. He sealed it and addressed an envelope; it wouldn’t be picked up until morning—or delivered until after the Eros had left.

He tiptoed out through the door into the tunnel—and almost stumbled over Jeff Foldingchair.

“Hi,” the pilot greeted him. “You’d better get some spare clothes, kid. It’s a long way to Mars!”

Chuck choked in surprise. “I thought—I—”

“Yeah. You thought I didn’t know I was putting ideas in your head. Look, kid—I didn’t quite tell that story to you straight. It was the second trip to the Moon—and was the kid who stowed away on it. But unless you could figure it out for yourself—with a little help—you didn’t deserve a chance. How about the clothes?”

“You probably brought some along,” Chuck guessed, laughing.

“Smart boy.” Jeff pointed to a bag at his side. “But you haven’t figured yet what you’d do to get aboard? It isn’t a pushover—they have guards around the ship. And if you’re found before take-off, they’ll practically clap you in irons.”

“I know it. But I was figuring that maybe I could slip past the guards.”

“Not a chance. There’s an electric eye system the guard has to let down—I’ve been looking it over on the quiet. We’ll have to work it out some way, but I’m not sure yet how.”

Chuck climbed into the new space suit, while Jeff put on his old one. They started toward the tractor port, and Chuck frowned. He’d expected to travel on foot to the Eros. Then he realized Jeff was right; the only thing was to act as if they were on legitimate business.

He put his head against the pilot’s.

“How about you, Jeff? Are you sure it won’t get you in trouble?”

“Maybe—but I’ve been in trouble before. I used to be something of a character. I’ll make out. And Chuck—”

“Yes?”

“If we see Vance or Steele, forget everything. They’d have to turn you in, since they’re officials responsible to the UN. Otherwise, get aboard somehow, and leave the guards up to me. I may be able to swing it.

It didn’t sound as easy as Chuck had thought When they got to the ship, it looked worse. The place was lighted, though not brightly, and the single guard was directly below the air lock.

Chuck swung off the tractor and headed forward, fiddling with the tiny dial on his chest that turned the radio. He kept calling until the other’s voice was suddenly in his ears. “Who is it? Wong?”

“Chuck Svensen. I came to pick up some tools I suddenly remembered I’d left. Any chance of going inside?”

“Oh, Chuck.” It was one of the construction crew. The man nodded. “No reason why you can’t go up; you know the ship. We’re just keeping fools from getting lost inside, if they get curious. What about Foldingchair, though?”

“He’s just waiting for me,” Chuck answered. “I may be quite a while locating the tools, though.”

The guard laughed. “Want a good look around, eh?

Okay, I know how you feel. If you’re not back when I go off, I’ll tell my relief to let you out. The beam’s off—go ahead.”

Chuck grunted unhappily. He’d been hoping they wouldn’t maintain a guard up till the last minute, but the “relief sounded as if they were taking no chances. But it was too late to back out. He went up the ladder and into the ship. Jeff touched helmets with the guard.

The guard’s radio carried the words. “How about letting me in the radar-shack for a smoke. Red? I’ll give you a chance afterwards, if you like.”

“You’ve got a bargain, Foldingchair.” There was no suspicion in Red’s voice. “I’ve been dying for a smoke. Doors open.”

Chuck found his way to the third level of the hydroponics room. It was filled with tanks of weedlike plants in chemical-soaked foam-plastic “soil.” The low ceiling was blazing with fluorescent lights. Here the carbon dioxide would be released again for re-use. It formed a balance that would make it unnecessary to take along much extra oxygen in high-pressure, tanks, and there was no limit to the length of time the air could be used that way.

He moved toward the center of the deck, where equipment for tending the plants was stored. There was an air-cushion there for use under the tanks, if cleaning was needed. He hauled it out, inflated it from a near-by air hose, and spread it out under one of the tanks. There was just enough room for him to slide in, and it formed a fair hiding place.

Jeff’s voice reached him again. “Thanks, Red. Kid hasn’t come out, eh? I suppose I’ll have to wait all night. Why don’t you catch a nap, and let me guard? Any reason against it?”

“No-o” Hesitation gave place to relief. “Why not, if you’re willing? My relief will be here in a couple hours, but if I can sleep in the shack, I’ll be right here for take-off. Thanks, Foldingchair, I’ll do you a favor sometime. Wake me up if the kid comes out and you want to leave.”

Chuck switched off the radio. Jeff had pulled it off. Now all he had to worry about would be a last-minute search— and Jeff would probably hide the little tractor and claim Chuck had gone home, if anyone asked.

He slipped out of the space suit, hid it under another tank, and relaxed on the cushion. Reaction from the excitement set in, leaving him weak and trembling. But that passed quickly. He was surprised to find himself getting sleepy as the hours passed.