“We’re about to land,” he told his passengers. “Fasten your belts securely.” He returned to his seat and began sliding shiny floor levers. There was a rumble of smooth gyroscope bearings as the rocket’s outer torpedo-shaped casing did a complete half turn. This brought the rear jets facing the moon so that they were in position to act as brakes as the rocket plunged groundward. The passengers were unaware of this, for the inner shell in which they sat remained in its original position, but they could feel the drag of deceleration as the ship began losing its blazing speed. Toby steeled himself for the agonizing pressure that would come when the ship reached full deceleration. Suddenly something prompted him to look at the speedometer. What he saw nearly caused his heart to stop beating. The ship was not losing enough speed. The jets were jammed! He thought how ironical it was for the very same thing to happen to him twice—two cases of jet braking failure—but he might never live to bear the disgrace of this one. Nor would the Shepards, with their precious knowledge and serum. Thinking of them brought Toby up out of his seat. Toby’s fumbling hand found the lift stick. As the rocket angled up from the frost-bitten ground, he saw a racing blur of Lunar landscape, pumice drifts, and buildings so near he could almost have reached out and touched them. It was such a close call that it left Toby shaking. The rocket scurried off over the barren land like a frightened bird. Toby heard a clatter down the aisle. He turned and saw Dr. Shepard being flung about like a chip on an ocean. Toby staggered down the passageway after him. Necessarily rough, he shoved the doctor back into the seat from which he had unbuckled himself, and strapped him tightly. Deb was a pale ghost still buckled down beside him, her eyes wide in terror, her body tense as a coiled spring. “Make him stay put!” Toby ordered and slipped and slid back to the front. As the rugged moonscape swept dazzlingly across the port, Toby headed the rocket’s nose upward again. A nauseating giddiness was threatening to overcome him. Toby shook his head vigorously and hung on. When the rocket had lifted high over the planet, he began “purging” the jet chambers, a procedure sometimes effective in pulling them out of a state of jamming. The action consisted of alternately giving the tubes a sudden full thrust, followed by a few moments of total inactivity. At each burst, Toby felt as if his head would be snapped off his neck. At last he sensed that the jets were working freely. This was confirmed by a glance at the instrument panel. Once again he headed the ship in for a landing. He felt the rhythmic jerks of the firestreams in normal braking thrust, and he sighed in relief. Some minutes later the rocket touched down gently on the soil of the moon. They were safe.