Sabotage -- Fiction; Science fiction; Space stations -- Fiction
Mike had left his post when Joe took over. Now he made a swooping dart
through the air of the cabin. The midget showed no signs of the fumbling
uncertainty the others had displayed--but he'd been a member of a midget
acrobatic team before he went to work at the Shed. He brought himself to
a stop precisely at a hand-hold, grinning triumphantly at the nearly
helpless Chief and Haney.
Major Holt said in the headphones: "_It's worse than that. Radar may
have told the country in question that you are on the way up. In that
case, if it's even faintly possible to blast the Platform before your
arrival with weapons for its defense, they'll blast._"
"I don't like that idea," said Joe dourly. "Anything we can do?"
Major Holt laughed bitterly. "_Hardly!_" he said. "_And do you realize
that if you can't unload your cargo you can't get back to Earth?_"
"Yes," said Joe. "Naturally!"
It was true. The purpose of the pushpots and the jatos and the ship's
own take-off rockets had been to give it a speed at which it would
inevitably rise to a height of 4,000 miles--the orbit of the Space
Platform--and stay there. It would need no power to remain 4,000 miles
out from Earth. But it would take power to come down. The take-off
rockets had been built to drive the ship with all its contents until it
attained that needed orbital velocity. There were landing rockets
fastened to the hull now to slow it so that it could land. But just as
the take-off rockets had been designed to lift a loaded ship, the
landing-rockets had been designed to land an empty one.
The more weight the ship carried, the more power it needed to get out to
the Platform. And the more power it needed to come down again.
If Joe and his companions couldn't get rid of their cargo--and they
could only unload in the ship-lock of the Platform--they'd stay out in
emptiness.
The Major said bitterly: "_This is all most irregular, but--here's
Sally._"
Then Sally's voice sounded in the headphones Joe wore. He was relieved
that Mike wasn't acting as communications officer at the moment to
overhear. But Mike was zestfully spinning like a pin-wheel in the middle
of the air of the control cabin. He was showing the others that even in
the intramural pastimes a spaceship crew will indulge in, a midget was
better than a full-sized man. Joe said:
"Yes, Sally?"
She said unsteadily. "_I'm not going to waste your time talking to you,
Joe. I think you've got to figure out something. I haven't the faintest
idea what it is, but I think you can do it. Try, will you?_"
"I'm afraid we're going to have to trust to luck," admitted Joe
ruefully. "We weren't equipped for anything like this."
"_No!_" said Sally fiercely. "_If I were with you, you wouldn't think of
trusting to luck!_"
"I wouldn't want to," admitted Joe. "I'd feel responsible. But just the
same--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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