“Pete!” Bill heard Coach Lippert call sharply over his suit radio as he ran onto the field. “Get back to your position, son! I don’t like a quitter on my team.” Players and coach huddled in the infield. They looked like a gathering of teddy bears in the space suits. Bill could see tears of bitterness inside Pete’s plastic helmet. “Fellows,” the coach said, “what did we come seven hundred miles across the Moon to do?” “To play ball,” someone answered, “—and win.” “All right, then. What do you say we start doing it? Pete, I’m going to send you to left field where you used to play. Dan, in left field, will take your place at shortstop.” The Rocketeers retired the side without further scoring. Then as though to prove that the pep talk had helped, the team came up with three big runs of their own! Pitching with all his skill, Bill was able to set down the Comets in order. It was now the top half of the ninth inning, the last chance for Plato to win the game. They were still behind 5-3, and the two-run lead seemed as big as the Milky Way to Bill. Dan started it off by walloping a double down the right field line. Pete followed with a single that bounced high over the right shortfielder’s head. The fielder behind him took the ball and threw quickly to his catcher to keep Dan from scoring off third. But then the Rocketeers’ luck seemed to have run out as the next two players struck out. “It’s all up to you, Bill,” the coach told his pitcher as Bill selected his favorite bat. “I’ll be swinging, coach,” Bill said determinedly. He looked toward the stands as he walked to the plate. Skippy was waving encouragement again. “This one is for you, Skippy,” Bill murmured, stepping up to the plate. Carl tried to make him swing on two bad pitches. “Careful,” Bill warned himself. “There are two outs—only one more left to us in the whole game!” The next ball was just the one Bill wanted. He swung with all his might. He saw the ball rise and lose itself in the white dust of starlight overhead. And then he was off! Loping past second, he saw the left fielder still bounding like a rabbit after the ball. The coach slowed him up on third base. “Take it easy, Bill,” he said with a happy grin. “That ball is on the dark side of the Moon by now!” Bill could see the Plato rooters waving their arms wildly in glee, and his radio picked up their loud cheers. As he crossed the plate with the leading run, he waved to Skippy who was almost out of his wheel chair in his excitement over his big brother’s tingling homer. The score: Plato 6, Copernicus 5. The game was far from over, though. The Comets still had their last turn at bat. Bill got the first player to raise a high infield pop-up. In the Moon’s light gravity it seemed as if the ball would never come down. But it finally did, and Dan took it for the first out.