Making with the was not a for and calculations. It had to be done directly—by hand, as it were. Joe out the and played the of the with a nerve-racked precision. His was not easy.
Before he return to the point of rendezvous, the on the Platform took on a of red. It was the twilight-zone of the satellite's orbit, when for a time the that it was light which had passed through Earth's and been by it and by the in Earth's air. It a red, and the color deepened, and then there was darkness.
They were in Earth's shadow. There were to be seen, but no sun. The Moon was hidden, too. And the Earth was a monstrous, incredible, which at this of its produced an almost terror. Formerly it had a but world, with white clouds and with of color them.
Now it did not look like a solid thing at all. It looked like a in creation. One see ten thousand of every and shade. But where the Earth should be there a nothingness. It looked like an opening to annihilation. It looked like the Pit of Darkness which is the men have imagined, and since those in the ship were without weight it that they were into it.
Joe better, of course. So did the others. But that was the look of things, and that was the feeling. One did not in of death, but of extinction—which, in cold fact, is very much worse.
Lights on the of the Platform to the supply ship to it. There were red and green and and blue-white electric bulbs. They were and distinct, but the of above that of the Pit was appalling. No small child alone at night had so a of as the four in the small ship.
But Joe played the of the steering-rocket board. The ship surged, and turned, and again. Mike, at the communicator, said, "They say slow up, Joe."
Joe obeyed, but he was tense. Haney and the Chief were at other portholes, looking out. The Chief said heavily, "Fellas, I'm going to admit I so in my life!"
"I'm I've got you with me!" Haney guiltily.
"The job's almost over," said Joe.
The ship's own hull, the ports, in a light-beam from the Platform. The small, of which sent the ship on produced effects. When the Platform was only one mile away, Haney on the ship's searchlights. They through with no of their until they touched the of the satellite.
Mike said sharply: "Slow up some more, Joe."
He again. It would not be a good idea to the Platform after they had come so to it.
They slowly, slowly, slowly toward it. The Pit of Darkness which was the night of Earth almost about to the Platform. They were a hundred higher than the great metal globe, and the was it. They were a of a mile away. The diminished.
A thin line to out toward them. There was a small, bulb-like object at its end. It out than was at all plausible. Nothing so should so without of its own weight. But of it had no weight here. It was a plastic with air pressure in it. It for the spaceship.
The four in the ship their breaths.
There was a loud, clank!
Then it was possible to the ship being toward the Platform by the magnetic grapple. It was a landing-line. It was the means by which the ship would be in the lock which had been to it.
As they near, they saw the joints of the of the Platform. They saw rivets. There was the huge, 30-foot with its wide. Their into it. They saw the metal floor, and the plastic sidewalls, by nets. They saw the lock-door. It that men should be visible to welcome them. There were none.
The them. They touched against something solid. There were more clankings. They to against the metal floor—magnetic flooring-grapples. Then, in solid with the of the Platform, they the of the great doors shut. They were the of Earth. It was in the lock, and Joe out the at the sides. There was a of air, and he saw a mist, and then the of the sagged. The air pressure was up toward normal sea-level air pressure.
Joe the of the to Off. "We're landed."
There was silence. Joe looked about him. The other three looked queer. It would have natural for them to on at their destination. But somehow they didn't that they had.
Joe said wrily, "It that we ought to something, now we've got here. So we that we don't. Shoes, Mike?"
Mike off the magnetic-soled from their place on the wall. He them out and opened the door. A came in it. Joe on the shoe-soles with their to them. He out the door.
He didn't land. He until he the sidewall. Then he himself by the netting. Once he touched the floor, his shoes to be sticky. The and the plastic were, of course, the method by which a large was practical. When this ship was about to take off again, would not labor for hours to pump the air out. The would and closely the ship's hull, and so the air in the lock into the ship. Then the would work on the air the walls—with to help them the wall-stuff to let the ship go free. The lock be used with only fifteen minutes for of four hours.
The door in the of the lock open. Joe to walk toward it. He his clumsiness. To walk in magnetic-soled shoes in a knack. When Joe one and to the other forward, his to pivot. When he his right foot, he had to turn his left inward. His arms to upward. When he was in motion and to pause, his whole to continue with a motion that him on his face. He had to put one to check himself. He to have no of balance. When he still—his of weightlessness—he himself or back—or, with equal unpredictability, sidewise. He would have to learn an new method of walking.
A man came in the lock, and Joe who it was. Sanford, the senior scientist of the Platform's crew. Joe had him often on the television screen in the Communications Room at the Shed. Now Sanford looked nerve-racked, but his were and his sardonic.
"My compliments," he said, his voice tight with irony, "for a job well done! You've got your invoice?"
Joe nodded. Sanford out his hand. Joe in his pocket and out the yellow sheet.
"I'd like to my crew," said Joe. "This is Haney, and Chief Bender, and Mike Scandia." He his hand, and his whole unexpectedly.
"We'll know each other!" said Sanford sardonically. "Our job is more futility—to the you've us into the tubes. A of good they'll do!"
A plate in the of the lock—but it was not up or or in any particular direction—withdrew itself. A man through the opening and on the ship's hull; another man him.
"Chief," said Joe, "and Haney. Will you open the doors?"
The two moved to obey, though with clumsiness. Sanford called sharply: "Don't touch the without gloves! If it isn't nearly red-hot from the sunlight, it'll be zero from shadow!"
Joe realized, then, the temperature the skin on his noticed. A part of the spaceship's gave off like that of a installation. Another part a chill.
Sanford said unpleasantly, "You want to report your heroism, eh? Come along!"
He to the by which he had entered. Joe followed, and Mike after him.
They out of the lock. Sanford off his metal-soled slippers, put them in his pocket, and into a four-foot metal tube. He away along the bore, not the sidewalls. He moved in the manner of a dream, when one with and in any direction one chooses.
Joe and Mike did not his talent. Joe himself after Sanford, and for 20 or 30 the of the past him. Then his rubbed, and he himself to an stop, the bore. Mike into him.
"I haven't got the of this yet," said Joe apologetically.
He himself and on. Mike him, his that of pure bliss. He was a man, was Mike, but he had the and the of a dozen ordinary-sized men in his small body. And he had frustration. He prove by that space be on by at a of the cost and of the same job done by normal-sized men. He was, of course, right. The and air and food for a spaceship's of would cost and a of for six-footers. But people weren't in sending out into space.
But Mike had here. He was in the Space Platform. There were full-sized men who would have places with him, forty-one and all. So Mike was blissful.
The ended and Joe off the that its end. Sanford was waiting. He with more than a hint of spite.
"Here's our room," he said. "Now you can talk to Earth. It'll be relayed, now, but in an hour you can the Shed direct."
He inside. Joe cautiously. There was another on there. He sat a group of screens, with across his to him in his chair. He his and enough.
"Here!" Sanford.
Joe to the seat the senior pointed out. He his way to it by on the walls. He into the chair and over the that would him in place.
Suddenly he was oriented. He had this room before—before the Platform was launched. True, the man at the screens was upside-down with to himself, and Sanford had a around the arm of a chair with his at right to Joe's own, but at least Joe where he was and what he was to do.
"Go ahead and report," said Sanford sardonically. "You might tell them that you the that us, and that your splendidly, and that you have in the Space Platform and the is well in hand. It isn't, but it will make headlines."
Joe said evenly, "Our arrival's been reported?"
"No," said Sanford, grinning. "Obviously the on Earth—shipboard ones on this hemisphere, of course—have reported that the Platform still exists. But we haven't since the off. They think we had so many that we all our air and are all out. They'll be to from you that we aren't."
Joe a switch, frowning. This wasn't right. Sanford was the senior scientist on and hence in command, he was best-qualified to direct the scientific the Platform was making. But there was something wrong.
The hummed. A voice sounded. It to loudness. "Calling Space Platform! Calling Space Platform! CALLING SPACE PLATFORM!" Joe the volume. He said into the microphone:
"Space Platform calling Earth. Joe Kenmore reporting. We have with the Platform and our landing. Our is now being unloaded. Our landing had to be against bombs, and we are now unable to return to Earth. The ship and the Platform, however, are unharmed. I am now waiting for orders. Report ends."
He away from the microphone. Sanford said sharply, "Go on! Tell them what a hero you are!"
"I'm going to help my ship," Joe said shortly. "You report what you please."
"Get at that transmitter!" Sanford furiously. "Tell 'em you're a hero! Tell 'em you're wonderful! I'll tell 'em how it is!"
Joe saw the other man in the room, the man at the screens, shake his head. He got up and his way along the to the door. Sanford after him angrily.
Joe out, the four-foot tunnel, and not but along it to the lock. Wordlessly, he set to work to the out of the of the spaceship.
Handling objects in which on Earth would be was an art in itself. Two men move tons. It needed only one man to start a in motion. However, one had either to or push an object in the exact line it was to follow. To hard for a time produced the same as to push for a longer period. Anything in the line along which it was moved. The man who had to stop it, though, needed to use as much energy as the man who sent it floating. He needed to check the thing in the same line. If one to stop a from one side, he would into it and he and the together would go over each other.
The Chief had gone off to help two-ton into tubes. One with Haney, that would have had to be with on Earth. Joe himself needed most in the chamber. A from the ship to the crewman. Standing downward, he stopped its original movement, himself, and sent it to Joe. He himself, stopped its flight, and very slowly—to move fast with anything in his hands would his from the floor—set it on a of objects which would presently be in place.
Everything had to be done in slow motion, or one would his footing. Joe painstakingly. He to the process. But the of his of their continuous, to the of fall.
Mike through the from the lock. He about as he floated, and his to a with the wall. He said calmly: "That guy Sanford has up. He's potty. If this were he'd be stir-crazy. He's into the now that we'll all be in a of days, and the we up won't help. He's about it, too!"
Haney called from the space of the ship in the lock: "All empty here! We're unloaded."
There were as he closed the doors. Haney, by the Chief, came into view, as Mike had done. But he didn't land as skillfully. He touched the on his hands and and away and to swim to a hand-hold. It would have been that Joe was in no mood for humor.
Mike off his and the end of it to Haney. He it and was to the wall. Haney's shoes to a hold. The Chief more expertly.
"We need here," he said ruefully. "You reported, Joe?"
Joe nodded. He to Brent, the who'd been unloading. He him too, from their two-way conversations.
"Sanford act oddly," he said uncomfortably. "When he met me in the lock he said our was useless. He talked about the of while I reported. He like he at every possible action as useless."
"Most likely it is," Brent said mildly. "Here, anyhow. It look as if we're going to be off. But Sanford's taking it badly. The of us have let him act as he pleased it didn't to matter. It doesn't, that he's annoying."
Mike said truculently, "We won't be off! We've got of our own up here now! We can if there's another attack!"
Brent shrugged. His was enough, but lined. He said as as before: "Your landing set off four on the way from Earth. You us six more missiles. How many can we with them?"
Joe blinked. It was a to the of life in an satellite. If it be by from Earth, the be by from the satellite. But it would take one to one bomb—with luck.
"I see," said Joe slowly. "We can just six more from Earth."
"Six in the next month," Brent wrily. "It'll be that long we more. Somebody sent up four today. Suppose they send eight next time? Or one a day for a week?"
Mike an angry noise. "The seventh bomb at us us out! We're here too!"
Brent nodded. He said mildly:
"Yes. The Platform can't be against an number of from Earth. Of the United States go to we've been at. But would that do us any good? We'd be in the war."
Joe said distastefully, "And Sanford's up he he's going to be killed?"
Brent said earnestly. "Oh, no! He's a good scientist! But he's always had a mind. Poor devil, he's failed at anything in all his life until now! Now he has failed. He's going to be killed, and he can't think of any way to stop it. His are the only he's in, and now they're no good. He can't accept the idea that he's stupid, so he has to that else is. It's a for him. Haven't you people who had to think else was to keep from that they were themselves?"
Joe nodded. He waited.
"Sanford," said Brent earnestly, "simply can't to the that he's no than else. That's all. He was a guy, but he's not used to and he can't take it. Therefore he that him—and else, by necessity. He'll be about killed when it happens. But waiting for it is to him."
He looked at his watch. He said apologetically, "I'm the psychologist. That's why I speak so firmly. In five minutes we're to come out of the Earth's into again. I'd that you come to watch. It's good to look at."
He did not wait for an answer. He the way. And the others in a procession. Somehow, automatically, they into single file, and they moved on their magnetic-soled toward a passage in one wall. Their and in an rhythm. Brent walked with the steps necessary for movement in weightlessness. The others him. Their hands no longer naturally by their sides, but to make with the impulse. They as they walked. Brent was a figure, and Joe was more thick-set, and Haney was taller, and lean. The Chief and the forty-one of Mike the after them. They a indeed.
Minutes later they were in a on the skin of the Platform. There were in the sidewall. Outside the were metal shutters. Brent out goggles, almost black, and touched the that opened the port coverings.
They looked into space. The were by the they wore. The ones and spaced. Beneath their as they to the of Earth. But them and very away there was a vast, of red.
It was through the of Earth's air. It the of that globe. As they stared, it brighter. The little more than four hours for one about its primary, the Earth. To those it, the Earth would go through all its phases in no longer a time. They saw now the possible of the new Earth. But in minutes—almost in seconds—the red to gold. The hair-thin line of light to a narrow which an eight-thousand-mile half-circle. It at the middle. It red at its ends, but in the very center it with flame. Then a appeared, and up and itself from the Earth, and the on-lookers saw the breath-taking of all of Earth's surface being of the night.
As if new-created their eyes, and lands in the sunlight. They of cloud and the long of mountains, and the different of its and forests.
As Brent had told them, it was good to watch.
It was an hour later when they in the of the Platform. The man who had been now to prepare a on the cooking-devices of a in space.
The food good. But Joe noticed that he things. Green stuff. It was absurd—until he that there was a garden here. Plants in it under which were on for a number of hours every day. The plants the Platform's air, and of provided some fresh and food for the crew.
They ate. The food was in plastic bowls, with through which they see and choose the particular they next. The to let through the they ate with. But Brent used a more practical pair of in a manner.
They coffee from cups which looked very much like ordinary cups on Earth. Joe that Sally Holt had had much to do with the design of science here. He his cup with interest. It in its of in plastic articles. The on the table the table was magnetic, too. And the coffee did not out to mid-air in a hot, ball, there was a over the cup. When one put his to the proper edge, a part of the as the cup was squeezed. The of the cup was flexible. One pressed, and the coffee came into one's without the of a drop.
At that moment Joe of Sally for the time in a good two hours. She'd been that in the Platform should be as normal and Earth-like as possible. The total of weight would be enough. She it needed to be countered, as a in sane, by the of normal-seeming chairs and normal-tasting food, and not too for eating.
Joe asked Brent about it.
"Oh, yes," said Brent mildly. "It's likely we'd all have gone off the end if there weren't some familiar about. To have to drink from a cup that one is tolerable. But we'd have at times if we had to drink from the of bottles."
"Sally Holt," said Joe, "is a friend of mine. She helped design this stuff."
"That girl has every of that any woman can be with!" Brent said warmly. "She of that would have to me! As a psychologist, I see how good her ideas were when she them up, but as a male I'd have of them." Then he grinned. "She on just one point. So did else. Nobody to think of a garbage-disposal for the Platform."
It came into Joe's mind that garbage-disposal was a one would to be in space. But the Platform wasn't the same thing as a spaceship. A ship and it behind, or store it a and it at either end. But the Space Platform would land. It roll on forever. And if it out its from airlocks—why—the would still have the Platform's speed and would it around the Earth until the end of time.
"We and store it now," said Brent. "If we were going to live, we'd out some way to turn it to for the gardens. It's while as are. Even then, though, the problem of be hopeless."
The Chief his mouth deliberately. He had helped four guided-missile tubes, and he had been up to date on the of in the Platform. He in a fashion and said, "Joe."
Joe looked at him.
"We up six two-ton missiles," said the Chief dourly. "We'll have of other up. We can send these out to 'em. Six of 'em. They can close to set off their fuses, anyhow. But what are we going to do, Joe, if somebody seven at us? We can manage six—maybe. But what'll we do with the one that's left over?"
"Have you any ideas?" asked Joe.
The Chief his head. Brent said mildly. "We've on that here in the Platform, I you. And as Sanford puts it soundly, about the only thing we can do is our empty at them."
Joe nodded. Then he tensed. Brent had meant it as a joke. But Joe was at what his own brain of it. He it over. Then he said, "Why not? It ought to be a very good trick."
Brent at him incredulously. Haney looked at him. The Chief Joe out of the of his eye. Then Mike gleefully. The Chief blinked, and a moment later of Mohawk, and then to Joe on the and of his want of weight over into the air the six of the kitchen.
Haney said disgustedly, "Joe, there are times when a guy wants to you! Why didn't I think of that?"
But Brent was looking at the four of them with a lively, curiosity. "Will you let me in on this?"
They told him. Joe to it carefully, but the Chief in with a and description, and then Mike to a correction. But by that time Brent's had with suddenness.
"I see! I see!" he said excitedly. "All right! Have you got space in your ship? We have them. So we'll go out and the with garbage. I think we'd at it right now, too. In under two hours we'll be a for more bombs, and it would be good to start ahead of time."
Mike a and out of the kitchen, air-swimming to go space from the ship. The on his small to cut his throat. Joe asked, "Sanford's in command. How'll he like this idea?"
Brent hesitated. "I'm afraid," he said regretfully, "he won't like it. If you solve a problem he gave up, it will tear his present to bits. He's gone psychotic. I think, though, that he'll allow it to be while he at us for fools. He's most likely to that way if you it."
"Then," Joe, "I it. Chief——"
The Chief a large hand.
"I got the program, Joe," he said. "We'll all set."
And Joe through passage-tubes to the room. He Sanford's voice, and mocking, as he the room door.
"What do you expect?" Sanford was saying derisively. "We're pigeons. We're a perfect target. We've just so much now. You say you may send us more in three of a month. I your persistence, but it's no use! This is all a very business...."
He Joe's presence. He turned, and then the with the of his hand. The image on the television screen died. The voice cut off. He said blandly: "Well?"
"I want," said Joe, "to take a garbage-disposal party out on the of the Platform. I came to ask for authority."
Sanford looked at him in surprise.
"To be sure it as as anything else the has done," he observed. "But why it to you as something you want to do?"
"I think," Joe told him, "that we can make a defense against from Earth with our empty cans."
Sanford his eyebrows.
"If you to have a four-leaf with you," he said in irony, "I'm told they're good, too."
His were and scornful. His manner was derisive. Joe would have done well to let it go at that. But he was nettled.
"We set off the last bombs," he said doggedly, "by our landing at them. They didn't with the bombs. They touched off the bombs' fuses. If we the Platform with a of and such things, they may do as well. Things we away won't to Earth. Ultimately, they'll actually circle us, like themselves. But if we can of them us and Earth, any that come up will have their by the trash we out."
Sanford laughed.
"We might ask for aluminum-foil to come up in the next supply ship," said Joe. "We have of that, or maybe around us."
"I much used cans," said Sanford humorously. "I'll take the watch here and let go out with you. By all means we must ourselves. Forward with the garbage! Go ahead!"
His were almost as he waited for Joe to leave. Joe did not like it at all, but there was nothing to do but out.
He the Chief with a with cans. Haney had another. There were two more, by members of the Platform's four-man crew. They were their space when Joe came upon them. Mike was in the cut-down for him. Actually, the only was in the size of the and the length of the arms and legs. He a with its batteries, and the for as well as anybody, since out here weight did not count at all. There were plastic ropes, to of temperature.
Joe got into his own space suit. It was no such self-contained space in itself as the of. It was not much more than an suit, to the of in emptiness, and with to the magnetic boots. In theory, there is no temperature in space. In practice, a metal up in to very much more than any record-hot-day temperature on Earth. In shadow, too, a metal will very close to 250 Centigrade, which is something like 400 Fahrenheit zero. But mainly the space were against the almost dull-red-heat of long-continued sunshine.
A named Corey moved into an with one of the of empty cans. Brent in a fashion through a in the lock-door. The to the air from the airlock. Corey's space visibly. Presently the pump stopped. Corey opened the door. He out, paying plastic rope him. An later he and the rope. He'd his line fast outside. He closed the lock-door. Air into the lock and Haney in. Again the pumping. Then Haney out, and was to the Platform not only by his magnetic but by a rope to a hand-hold. Brent out. Mike. Joe came next.
They on the of the Space Platform, waiting in the of emptiness. The plates of the and away on every hand. There were of and the of Earth away to a man in a space than to a man looking out a port. Where cut across the Platform's surface, there was blackness. Also there was frigidity. Elsewhere it was bright. The men were of on a metal hull, and all about them there was the of nothingness.
But Joe proud. The seventh man came out of the lock-door. They their plastic together and spread out in a long line which almost around the Platform. The man next to the lock was to a hand-hold. The third man of the line also himself. The fifth. The seventh. They were a line of with shadows, together by ropes. They were like a party of on a of silver.
But no had a of ten thousand stars, up from them as well as from overhead. Nor did any have a by 4,000 miles them, a sun at them from a sky such as this.
In particular, perhaps, no other set out upon an purpose was to and at all the cosmos.
They set to work. The space were clumsy. It was not easy to hard with only to one to his feet. It was actually more practical to up with an gesture. But that would send the an distance, in time. There was no air to slow them.
The as they left the Platform's expanse. They moved away at a speed of possibly 20 to 30 miles an hour. They off in all possible directions. They would Earth, of course. They the Platform's speed, and they would circle the Earth with it forever. But when they were away, their were a little. Each can just now, for example, would always be the Platform and the Earth on this of its orbit. But on the other of Earth it would be above the Platform. The Platform, in fact, the center of a swarm, a cluster, a cloud of objects which would always it and always be in motion with to it. Together, they should make up a screen no bomb without exploding.
Joe clankings, to his through his feet.
"What's that?" he sharply. "It like the airlock!"
Voices in his ears. The other walkie-talkies allowed to speak at once. Most of them did. Then Joe someone laugh. It was Sanford's voice.
Sandford's aluminized, space-suited came around the of the small metal world. The of his walkie-talkie above his head. He to against the of many-colored stars.
Brent spoke quickly, anyone else question Sanford. His was mild and of fact, but Joe somehow the it.
"Hello, Sanford. You came out? Was it wise? Shouldn't there be someone the Platform?"
Sanford laughed again. "It was very wise. We're going to be killed, as you know perfectly well. It's to try to avoid it. So very I've to myself the of waiting to be killed. I came out."
There was in the ear-phones of Joe's space radio. He his own and in the stillness.
"Incidentally," said Sanford with almost amusement, "I it so that none of us can in. It would be useless, anyhow. Everything's futility. So I've put an end to our for good. I've locked us all out."
He laughed yet again. And Joe that in Sanford's it was perfectly possible for him to have done what he said.
There were eight beings on the Platform. All were now it, on its skin. They space with from an hour to an hour's supply. They had no with which to into the satellite. And no help possibly them in less than three weeks.
If they couldn't the Platform, Sanford, laughing proudly, had killed them all.