Peter looked up, shrugged. "We can fire another flare twelve hours
later," he said. "I am not particular who rescues us. I am an American,
you know. I owe something to the Soviets too. When you look at the
world from here, from another planet, these distinctions of nationality
seem so--somehow--unimportant. We are all humans, all from the same
ancestors. Even if we were not brothers, we would feel ourselves such.
Our roots go to all parts of the world. If you add up all people's
ancestors a hundred generations back, you will realize that there can't
be anyone who is not distantly related to everyone else--that we all
share somebody in our ancestry who lived in every country of the world,
shared all the histories of the past and all the different politics and
opinions."
Peter grew quiet, as if a little amazed at his own outburst. Robin drew
close to him, threw an arm around him. "I think when more men get out
among the stars, people are going to realize that we can't afford to
think of ourselves as anything other than citizens of Mother Earth.
In the face of the universe, of Moonmen, of the inhabitants of the
millions of other planets that must exist, our national differences
seem so small, so much a private family matter as not to be thrashed
out in the public of our interstellar neighbors. I think it's good we
are brothers. All men are brothers."
Robin threw the switch.
Outside, the crater suddenly lighted up in a blinding white glare,
a blaze that threw wild, dancing black shadows several miles across
the floor, that momentarily lighted the great crags and precipices
of the mountains, that made an outburst of grandeur in a moonscape of
unearthly terror and beauty.
Five minutes later, when the flares had died down, Robin again threw
the switch. The second set of magnesium bombs went off and again the
crater was brilliantly lighted.
"On Earth that should stand out very sharply. It is nearly a new moon
for them. This spot of light will be like a blinding diamond on a black
velvet setting," said Peter poetically.
They rested now, taking their space suits off, lolling around on two
hammocks, just talking, renewing acquaintance, exchanging experiences.
They ate another meal, slept, finally donned their outfits again and
set off the next set of flares a half Earth-day later, when the massive
area of Eurasia was on the face of the globe in the Lunar sky.
"Now the Russian observers have had a chance to see us," said Peter.
"We ought to go back to the underground world again. Our supplies here
are not enough. In order to eat and breathe the next few months, we
will have to live among the Glassies. We have to go back to the great
cleft again."
"Yes," said Robin. "And that brings up the question of Von Borck. He'll
be waiting for us, you know."
His brother nodded. "Ah, but this time we will be the ones who are
armed and ready." He reached down, took out a second gun belt, handed
it to Robin. "Use this. Strap it around your space suit."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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