Courage -- Fiction; Cowardice -- Fiction; Psychological fiction; Science fiction; Short stories; Space flight to the moon -- Fiction
Scotty roared with glee. "You think you're kidding! That's all
right--the way I see it, I'm getting ten days vacation on the
Government, and plenty of pay besides. And once I get up there, I
won't need much muscle to make my way around, they tell me." He lit a
cigarette, peering down the strip ahead of them. Far ahead he could see
the batteries of searchlights, picking out the tall, shiny spire of the
ship. It stood tall in its scaffolding, pointing like a needle toward
the black star-lit sky. Already the ground below it was swarming with
tiny figures, moving about on the final check-down. My ship, thought
Scotty. I helped to build it. And here's one job where they need a
cocky, loud-mouthed little shrimp more than anything else in the world--
* * * * *
Another jeep swerved in beside them on the strip. Scotty caught a
glimpse of the General and a couple of official-looking civilians.
"Everybody's going to see you off," said Mitch from the back seat.
"Yeah--the whole damned crowd. My big day."
"You sure you got everything down cold?"
Scotty gave him a scornful glance. "You kidding? How could I miss?"
His freckled face broke into a grin from ear to ear, and his eyes were
bright with excitement. "Why I've got nothing to do but crawl in and
zip things up after me. Don't even have to throw the fatal switch--they
take care of everything from outside. I'm telling you, it's a cinch.
Three days to tell myself sea stories--and then I'll crawl out and tell
you boys what Lady Moon _really_ looks like."
A crowd of reporters and photographers were waiting as the jeep sped
up to the huge barbed-wire enclosure surrounding the ship. Scotty stuck
his head out of the jeep and gave them a big grin. The flashbulbs
popped. Then the jeep roared on toward the field shack. Scotty stepped
out, staring up at the tall sleek ship. A little bottom-heavy now,
perhaps, but with the first and second stages disengaged--a beauty of a
ship. He stepped into the field shack, and grinned up at the General.
"Final check go all right?"
The General nodded and smiled. "This is the Secretary of Defense,
Scotty--"
"Well! Guess I'm rating big visitors tonight!" He gave the man's hand a
jaunty shake.
"You're taking a big trip," said the Secretary. "Tell me, Mr.
Johnson--how does it feel to be the first man to go to the Moon?"
"Can't say. I haven't been there yet."
"You'd better get aboard," said the General. "Everything's been checked
down. You'll have half an hour to make your own checks from inside.
How's your weight?"
"Down to 128."
"Fine. That's better than we'd hoped. But don't be afraid to holler if
something doesn't look right--" He extended his hand, gripped Scotty's
tightly. "Good luck, lad. We're with you all the way."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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