Before the first sounds of thunder, Mike had been puzzling a lot of
things at once.
"Did you ever jump so high before?"
"It really wasn't awful high. Higher, though I guess than ever before.
Felt kind of funny, huh?"
"Sure did. Is it hard for you to walk?"
"We never played soldier much--you know how Dad felt about that. The
other guys are pretty good at keeping the same step. We'll catch on,
though."
"I didn't mean that. I didn't feel--well, heavy enough, sort of. I
kinda bounce when I try to walk."
"Me too, but all dreams are funny. I suppose in a dream you could jump
clear over the buildings back there if you wanted to. Boy, wait'll we
tell Dad about dreaming we're in a military school. He'll have a fit!"
"He sure will. Remember that time we asked him about it? I guess even
Mom was surprised at how he flew up that way. He said if he hadn't
thought he could teach us himself how to grow up good without putting
us in uniforms to do it he'd never have had us. But it's kind of fun
though. So far--"
That was when they heard the thundering sound almost directly above
them, but it was like no thunder they had ever heard before. There was
a sudden swirling of the thick sky above them, and they jumped up,
rooted, watching.
The _Mikol VII_ burst suddenly through the heavy clouds, its stern
belching flame and rolling volumes of sound. The heavy air about them
vibrated as they watched.
It looked like a huge, shining artillery shell, dropping groundward as
though held in the grip of some great, invisible hand that slowed it,
held it in perfect balance as it descended wrong-end first, directly
above the circular place at the end of the long, broad street.
"Like a big V-2 going the wrong way!" Mike said.
"It's a space-ship, that's what it is!" Terry yelled. "Comin' in to
land. Just like in the movie we saw, Mike. Just like."
"Look, it's almost down--c'mon up on this little hill here. You can see
'em driving big trucks or something out to meet it. What do you suppose
it's got?"
"Wonder where it's from? Mars, I bet."
"Hi! Pretty sight, isn't it?" It was the tall boy who led their
section. He had his thumbs hooked in his belt just behind where the
gold stars were.
"Sure is," Terry said, eyes glued to the towering craft which had just
settled perfectly to the ground.
"It's the _Mikol VII_, and it's the last shipment before the games.
Guess there'll be another ten thousand or so guys, and then we can
start getting all our equipment issued. They don't give us our stuff
until everybody's here. That's to make it so that we all have an
absolutely equal amount of training. Watch--they're starting to come
out now. Just the way you guys did when you came."
* * * * *
Mike and Terry weren't listening. They watched as a great opening
suddenly appeared near the ship's blunt stern, to which an inclined
ramp was being towed by a tiny surface-vehicle. Then they started
coming out, five abreast, in seemingly unending numbers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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