The pilot an the floor-plate hole, with a to see by and two to him the of a spot he not possibly with any instrument. Joe his report, to the ground by radio.
“It’s a grenade,” he said coldly. “It took time to it the way it is. At a guess, the ship was booby-trapped at the time of its last overhaul. But it was that the had to be set, the cocked, by somebody doing something very at a different place and later on. We’ve been with that in the wheel well for two weeks. But it was out of sight. Today, at the airfield, a sandy-haired man up and a he how to find. That a slipknot. The rolled to a new position. Now when the wheel goes the pin is pulled. You can out from that.”
It was an excellent device. If a ship up two after overhaul, it would not be that the bomb had been so long before. Every search would be for a opportunity for the bomb’s placing. A man who in and a that the bomb and it for would be suspected. There might be of planes, now their own about with them.
The pilot said into the microphone: “Probably....” He listened. “Very well, sir.”
He away and to the co-pilot, now the ship in wide, circles, the of which touched the of the on the ground below.
“We’ve authority to jump,” he said briefly. “You know where the are. But there is a I can belly-land without that blowing. I’m going to try that.”
The co-pilot said angrily: “I’ll him a chute.” He Joe, and said furiously, “They’ve been to try two or three tricks, just to make sure. Ask if we should we crash-land!”
The pilot up the again. He spoke. He listened.
“Okay to to ship.”
“You won’t my crates,” Joe. “And I’m to see you don’t! If you can this ship down, so can I!”
The co-pilot got up and at him.
“Anything I can move out, goes. Will you help?”
Joe him through the door into the compartment.
The space there was very considerable, and cold. The from the Kenmore plant were the of cargo. Other objects were smaller. The co-pilot his way to the and a lever. Great, doors opened at the of the plane. Instantly there was such a of that all speech was impossible. The co-pilot out a of colored-paper and one with the nearest parcel. He a check mark and to push the box toward the doors.
It was not a operation. So near the ground, the plane to waver. The air was bumpy. To push a box out a doorway, so it would a thousand to sands, was not so safe a as would let it tedious. But Joe helped. They got the box to the door and it out. It down. The co-pilot onto the and it land. He another box. He it. And another. Joe helped. They got them out of the door and through emptiness. The plane on in circles. The desert, as through the opened doors, away astern, and then to tilt, and away again. Joe and the co-pilot furiously. But the co-pilot each item he it.
It was a way to to destruction. A metal-bound box. Over the of the space floor. A piece of machinery, visible through its crate. A box marked Instruments. Fragile. Each one off. Each one to a thousand or more. A small dynamo. This item and that. A marked Stationery. It would be printed for the timekeepers, perhaps. But it wasn’t.
It out. The plane on. And there was a of blue-white on the below. The box that should have had something very much more explosive. As the plane on—rocking from the of the explosion—Joe saw a and a cloud of and sand.
The co-pilot spoke and furiously, in the of the motors. He marked the of the parcel that had exploded. But then they to the job of cargo. They well as a team now. In no more than minutes was out the four that were the gyros. The co-pilot them dourly, and Joe his fists. The co-pilot closed the doors, and it possible to think again.
“Ship’s lighter, anyhow,” reported the co-pilot, in the cabin. “Tell ’em this is what exploded.”
The pilot took the slip. He the microphone—exactly like somebody up an telephone—and reported the number and of the case that had been an bomb. The ship the pilot had been booby-trapped—probably with a number of other ships—and a bomb had been on it, and a special with a private plane had at it with rockets. The pilot were devices. They had to be on the Platform when it took off, and they took months to make and balance. There had been pains taken to prevent their arrival!
“I’m now,” said the pilot into the microphone, “and then in for a landing.”
The ship straightaway. It more lightly, and it a little. When is one has to slow to not more than one hundred and seventy-five and level. Then one is to five minutes after with the in the position—and then there is forty-five minutes of fuel still in the tanks.
The ship around and for the now far-distant field. It slowly and and until it to the minor in the ground. And low like this, the of speed was terrific.
The co-pilot of something. Quickly he into the space. He returned with an of blankets. He them on the floor.
“If that go!” he said sourly.
Joe helped. In the minutes Bootstrap near, they the of the with blankets. Especially around the pilots’ chairs. And there was a of above the place where the might be. It sense. Soft like would an than anything else. But the pilot the might not blow.
“Hold fast!” the pilot.
The were down. That the ship a little. It had been lightened. That helped. They in over the of the less than man-height high. Joe his hands on a handgrip. He saw a crash starting out from the of the runway. A fire started for the line the plane followed.
Four above the sand. Three. The pilot the stick. His was and very and very hard. The ship’s and dragged. It bumped. Then the plane and and half-whirled crazily, and then the world to come to an end. Crashes. Bangs. Shrieks of metal. Bumps, and grindings. Then a roaring.
Joe himself from where he had been flung—it to him that he himself loose—and the pilot up, and he him to help, and the co-pilot at them both, and all three of them were in the open air and at full speed away from the ship.
The a bellowing. There was an explosion. Flames everywhere. The three men ran stumblingly. But as they ran, the co-pilot swore.
“We left something!” he panted.
Joe a of booming, behind. Something else dully. But he should be away by now.
He to look, and he saw in flames. The were monstrous. They rose sky-high, it seemed—more than forty-five minutes of should have produced. As he looked, something up shatteringly, and fire more furiously. Of in such the would be and if the crash hadn’t them beforehand. Joe thick, of rage.
The plane was now an incomplete, skeleton, through by flames. The crash to a stop them.
“Anybody hurt? Anybody left inside?”
Joe his head, unable to speak for rage. The up, already from its nozzles. Its water with so that it into the of when at four hundred pressure. It the with that mist, in which a man would drown. No fire possibly itself. In seconds, it seemed, there were only steam and white and of that lessened.
But then there was a of across the with a black car them. The car up the wagon, then to where Joe was out of wild and into sick, black depression. He’d been for the pilot and their safe arrival. What had wasn’t his fault, but it was not his job to blameless. It was his job to the delivered and set up in the Space Platform. He had failed.
The black car to a stop. There was Major Holt. Joe had him six months before. He’d a good deal. He looked at the two pilots.
“What happened?” he demanded. “You your fuel! What like this?”
Joe said thickly: “Everything was but the pilot gyros. They didn’t burn! They were packed at the plant!”
The co-pilot an of rage. “I’ve got it!” he said hoarsely. “I know——”
“What?” Major Holt.
“They—planted that at the—major overhaul!” the co-pilot, too to swear. “They—fixed it so—any trouble would a wreck! And I—pulled the fire-extinguisher just as we hit! For all compartments! To with CO2! But it wasn’t CO2! That’s what burned!”
Major Holt at him. He up his hand. Somebody him. He said harshly: “Get the bottles sealed and take them to the laboratory.”
“Yes, sir!”
A man toward the wreck. Major Holt said coldly: “That’s a new one. We should have of it. You men yourselves to and report to Security at the Shed.”
The pilot and co-pilot away. Joe to go with them. Then he Sally’s voice, a little wobbly: “Joe! Come with us, please!”
Joe hadn’t her, but she was in the car. She was pale. Her were wide and frightened.
Joe said stiffly: “I’ll be all right. I want to look at those crates——”
Major Holt said curtly: “They’re already under guard. There’ll have to be anything can be touched. And I want a report from you, anyhow. Come along!”
Joe looked. The were abandoned, and there were already around the still-steaming wreck, the men of the as they for or flame. It was that now nobody moved toward the wreck. There were walking toward the of the field. What were about, to the on duty, had started out to look at the at close range. But the were on the job. Nobody approach. The to their proper places.
“Please, Joe!” said Sally shakily.
Joe got into the car. The he seated himself, it was in motion again. It across the and out the entrance. Its and it toward the town and to the left. In it was on a white that left the town and toward the of the desert.
But not emptiness. Far, away there was a great half-globe against the horizon. The car toward it, singing. And Joe looked at it and ashamed, this was the home of the Space Platform, and he hadn’t to it the part for which he alone was responsible.
Sally her lips. She out a small box. She opened it. There were and bottles.
“I’ve a first-aid kit, Joe,” she said shakily. “You’re burned. Let me the ones, anyhow!”
Joe looked at himself. One was to charcoal. His was on one side. A leg was off around the ankle. When he noticed, his hurt.
Major Holt her spread a on skin. He no whatever.
“Tell me what happened,” he commanded. “All of it!”
Somehow, there very little to tell, but Joe told it as the car on. The great half-ball of metal larger and larger but did not appear to nearer as Sally aid. They came to a of trucks, and the blared, and they out and passed it. Once they met a of empty vehicles on the way to Bootstrap. They passed a bus. They on.
Joe drearily: “The did could. Even off the as they were dumped. We reported the one that up.”
Major Holt said uncompromisingly: “Those were orders. In a we’ve something by this disaster. The are right about the plane’s having been booby-trapped after its last overhaul, and the later. I’ll have an immediately, and we’ll see if we can how it was done.
“There’s the man you think the on this plane. An order for his is on the way now. I told my secretary. And—hm.... That CO2——”
“I didn’t that,” said Joe drearily.
“Planes have CO2 bottles to put out,” said the Major impatiently. “A fire in lights a red light on the panel, telling where it is. The pilot a handle, and CO2 the compartment, it out. And this ship was in for a crash landing so the pilot—according to orders—flooded all with CO2. Only it wasn’t.”
Sally said in horror: “Oh, no!”
“The CO2 bottles were with an or an gas,” said her father, unbending. “Instead of making a fire impossible, they it certain. We’ll have to watch out for that now, too.”
Joe was too for any a and a much more of those who were to any crime—and had most—in the attempt to the Platform.
The Shed that it rose and rose against the skyline. It huge. It monstrous. It unbelievable. But Joe have when the car up at an angular, three-story out from the Shed’s base. From the air, this had looked like a chip. The car stopped. They got out. A as Major Holt the way inside. Joe and Sally followed.
The Major said to a man at a desk: “Get some for this man. Get him a long-distance telephone to the Kenmore Precision Tool Company. Let him talk. Then him to me again.”
He disappeared. Sally to at Joe. She was still pale.
“That’s Dad, Joe. He means well, but he’s not cordial. I was in his office when the report of to your plane came through. We started for Bootstrap. We were on the way when we saw the explosion. I—thought it was your ship.” She a little at the memory. “I you were on board. It was—not nice, Joe.”
She’d been scared. Joe wanted to her on the back, but he that that would no longer be appropriate. So he said gruffly: “I’m all right.”
He the man. He to out of his and garments. The him more clothes, and he put them on. He was just his personal to the new pockets when the came again.
“Kenmore plant on the line, sir.”
Joe to the phone. On the way he that the around he’d had when the plane had a number of places on his hurt.
He talked to his father.
Afterward, he that it was a conversation. He something had to a job that had taken eight months to do and that he alone was to its destination. He told his father about that. But his father didn’t concerned. Not nearly so much as he should have been. He asked urgent questions about Joe himself. If he was hurt. How much? Where? Joe was that his father to think such more than the pilot gyros. But he answered the questions and the exact and also a he was trying to that the might still be repairable. His father gave him advice.
Sally was waiting again when he came out. She took him into her father’s office, and him to her father’s secretary. Compared to Sally she was an plain woman. She a expression. But she looked very efficient.
Joe that his father said for him to up Chief Bender—working on the job out here—because he was one of the men who’d left the Kenmore plant to work elsewhere, and he was good. He and the Chief, them, would the and the possibility of repair.
Major Holt listened. He was and official and and and tired. Joe’d Sally and therefore her father all his life, but the Major wasn’t an easy man to be with. He spoke into thin air, and his sad-seeming out a pass for Joe. Then Major Holt gave orders on a telephone and asked questions, and Sally said: “I know. I’ll take him there. I know my way around.”
Her father’s did not change. He Sally in his orders on the phone.
He up and said briefly: “The plane will be and taken as soon as possible. By the time you your man you can the crates. I’ll have you for it.”
His in a for order to out and hand him to sign. Sally at Joe’s arm. They left.
Outside, she said: “There’s no use with my father, Joe. He has a terrible job, and it’s on his mind all the time. He being a Security officer, too. It’s a thankless job—and no Security officer to be more than a major. His ability shows. What he is noticed unless it fails. So he’s frustrated. He’s got Miss Ross—his secretary, you know—so she just to what he says must be done and she it out. Sometimes he goes days without speaking to her directly. But it’s bad! It’s like a with no enemy to spies! And the they do! They’ve been to booby-trap a after an accident, so who to help will be up! So has to be done in a way or will be ruined!”
She him to an office with a door that opened directly into the Shed. In of his bitterness, Joe was to see inside. But Sally had to identify him as the Joe Kenmore who was the of her father’s order, and his had to be taken, and somebody had him for a moment an X-ray screen. Then she him through the door, and he was in the Shed where the Space Platform was under construction.
It was a of metal and girders, with and detail. It took him to to what he saw and heard. The Shed was five hundred high in the middle, and it was all clear space without a single or interruption. There were about its edges, and high up there were of which let in a light. All of it with many and of them.
There were at work, and there were the of trucks moving about, and the of torches. But the looked only like fires, blue-white and against the of the thing that was being built.
It was not too clear to the eye, this Space Platform. There to be a of mist, a about it, which was a of scaffolding. But Joe at it with an that out his and of shame.
It was gigantic. It had the of an liner. It was shaped. Partly by the fragile-seeming about it, there was in curves, and the up and a pattern, and above the there were girders—themselves in the light of many lamps—and they rose up and up toward the of the Shed itself. The Platform was and it was huge, and it rested under a metal half-globe that have for a sky. It was more than three hundred high, itself, and there were men on the of its parts—and the men were specks. The of the Shed’s had other men on it, and they were moving motes. You couldn’t see their as they walked. The Shed and the Platform were monstrous!
Joe Sally’s upon him. Somehow, they looked proud. He took a breath.
She said: “Come on.”
They walked across of with blocks. They moved toward the thing that was to take mankind’s step toward the stars. As they walked centerward, a big sixteen-wheel truck-and-trailer out of an opening under the of scaffolds. It clumsily, and the scaffolding, and moved toward a of the Shed. A of the wall—it as small as a hole—lifted like a flap, and the sixteen-wheeler out into the sunlight. Four other trucks out after it. Other trucks came in. The closed.
There was the of engine and metal and of from electric sparks. There was that a man can for, of metal being by men. Joe walked like someone in a dream, with Sally him, until the scaffolds—which had looked like veiling—became and he saw openings.
They walked into one such tunnel. The of the Platform above them overhead with a menace. There were trucks all around underneath, here in this of columns. Some ready-loaded waiting to be up by hoists. Crane came down, and fast on the cages, and them up and up and out of sight. There was a Diesel somewhere, and a man and and with his hands, and the Diesel its to his signals. Then some empty came and in a waiting with loud noises. Somebody off the hooks, and the and away.
Sally spoke to a man in shirt with a on an arm near his shoulder. He looked at the she carried, using a to make sure. Then he them to a up which a ran. It was very noisy here. A gun away overhead, and the plates of the Platform with the sound, and the screeched, and to Joe the was good to hear. The man with the arm into a telephone transmitter, and a came down. Joe and Sally on it. Joe took a on her shoulder, and the upward.
The of the Shed and the Platform more as the toward the roof. The to expand. Spidery past them. There were being over by the sidewall. Joe saw a in-plant moving past those objects. It was a truck, no more than four high and with twelve-inch wheels. It it plates of metal with edges. They over the like sledges. Cryptic were on those plates, and the stopped by a of being put together, and to the plates.
Then the and Sally a little. The stopped.
Here—two hundred up—a on the skin of the Platform itself. The in and there was a wide space to the ground. There was also a great beyond. Though rose yet, this was as high as the had gone. That opening—Joe guessed—would be the door of an air lock, and this surface was designed for a to to by magnets. When a came up from Earth with or for the Platform’s crew, or with fuel to be for an ship’s later use, it would here and then toward that doorway....
There were a dozen men in the crew. They should have been working. But two men at each other, their down. One was tall and lean, with a and an of fury. The other was and dark with a look of desperation. A third man was in the act of his torch—he’d it off first—to try to interfere. Another man gaped. Still another was up by a from the level below.
Joe put Sally’s hand on the upright, himself for action.
The man out a blow. It landed, but the man in. Joe had an instant’s clear of his face. It was not the of a man enraged. It had the look of a man and despairing.
Then the man’s slipped. He balance, and the man’s landed. The thin man backward. Sally out, choking. The man on the of the place. Behind him, the down. Below him there were two hundred of through the steel-pipe of scaffolds. If he took one step he was gone a on which he stop.
He took that step. The man’s in horror. The man convulsively. He couldn’t stop. He it. He’d go and on over the edge, and fall. He might touch the scaffolding. It would not stop him. It would set his as it and again and again it two hundred below.
It was in slow motion, the man to his death.
Then Joe leaped.
