It was a dark, moonless night at Tsiolkovsky Spaceport as Secretary Drake escorted Rocky Jones, Winky DelPonte, and Vena Ray across the pitted concrete apron of landing pad 17. The spaceport was lit by bank after bank of floodlights, and Drake could hear the faint hum of each as he passed beneath it. He could smell the chemical tang of spaceship fuel, with a metallic overlay of ozone. The Orbit Jet stood upright on the landing pad, while the gantry was backed away against the maintenance hanger.
Jones and DelPonte were dressed in a fresh set of blue and white Space Ranger uniforms, while Ray was dressed in another one of her colorful cape and minidress outfits, this one in contrasting shades of green. As they reached the foot of the gantry, Jones told DelPonte and Ray, "Take positions on platform." DelPonte saluted, and he and Ray began the long climb up the gantry.
Jones turned to Drake, who told him, "Do your best to bring back Professor Newton, but please, Rocky, no unnecessary chances."
"Yes, sir," Jones answered. "I understand, sir. We wouldn't dare, because we have a girl aboard."
Mustering his patience, Drake said, "It isn't that. We don't want to lose any of you, any more than Professor Newton or Bobby."
"I'm sorry, sir," said Jones, who didn't sound sorry at all. Drake sighed to himself, and reflected that Jones was in for a surprise. The antifeminist sentiment that was growing on Earth was unknown among the Venusian colonists, and the Ray family in particular was known for its independent women. He didn't think Jones' attitude would survive prolonged contact with Vena Ray.
Jones turned away from Drake and called up to the ground crew, "Move in the boarding platform!" There was a growling hum as the gantry's motors woke to life, and it began its slow, ponderous journey from the maintenance hanger to the Orbit Jet. The four huge tires followed their blackened tracks across the concrete until the gantry was once against nestled against the great silver ship's side. Another order from Jones set the blast-off synchoniser into operation. The low-pitched beeping of the synchroniser sounded, indicating that the Orbit Jet's two main engines were undergoing their powering-up sequence. As the beeping rose in pitch, Jones saluted Drake, who returned the salute, and watched as Jones turned and strode over to the foot of the gantry, quickly climbing the ladder to the boarding platform.
With a smile, Drake turned and headed back to the Armstrong Building.
Jones and DelPonte were dressed in a fresh set of blue and white Space Ranger uniforms, while Ray was dressed in another one of her colorful cape and minidress outfits, this one in contrasting shades of green. As they reached the foot of the gantry, Jones told DelPonte and Ray, "Take positions on platform." DelPonte saluted, and he and Ray began the long climb up the gantry.
Jones turned to Drake, who told him, "Do your best to bring back Professor Newton, but please, Rocky, no unnecessary chances."
"Yes, sir," Jones answered. "I understand, sir. We wouldn't dare, because we have a girl aboard."
Mustering his patience, Drake said, "It isn't that. We don't want to lose any of you, any more than Professor Newton or Bobby."
"I'm sorry, sir," said Jones, who didn't sound sorry at all. Drake sighed to himself, and reflected that Jones was in for a surprise. The antifeminist sentiment that was growing on Earth was unknown among the Venusian colonists, and the Ray family in particular was known for its independent women. He didn't think Jones' attitude would survive prolonged contact with Vena Ray.
Jones turned away from Drake and called up to the ground crew, "Move in the boarding platform!" There was a growling hum as the gantry's motors woke to life, and it began its slow, ponderous journey from the maintenance hanger to the Orbit Jet. The four huge tires followed their blackened tracks across the concrete until the gantry was once against nestled against the great silver ship's side. Another order from Jones set the blast-off synchoniser into operation. The low-pitched beeping of the synchroniser sounded, indicating that the Orbit Jet's two main engines were undergoing their powering-up sequence. As the beeping rose in pitch, Jones saluted Drake, who returned the salute, and watched as Jones turned and strode over to the foot of the gantry, quickly climbing the ladder to the boarding platform.
With a smile, Drake turned and headed back to the Armstrong Building.
* * *
Marcus Griffin, watching from Drake's outer office, activated his astrophone and shifted the frequency. "Griff to W-O-X. Griff to W-O-X. Come in."
Once more, he heard the accented voice of the commander of the Ophiuchian ship. "W-O-X to Griff. Come in, Griff."
"Rocky Jones blasting off at 0230," Griffin reported. "Refuel space station is RV-5. Area declared out of bounds, making it ideal for attack without interference."
"We'll be waiting for him, Griff," said the Ophiuchian. "Over."
* * *
Vena Ray had traveled in space more times than she could count. Her duties as a linguist had taken her to Mercury, Mars, the Moon, the Asteroid Belt, and among the moons of Jupiter and Saturn. She was as familiar as any person alive with the various classes of commercial spaceship. She had flown in the swept-wing spaceplanes that traveled from the surface of the Earth to the orbiting space stations; the bulbous moon shuttles that made the regular run from the space stations to the surface of the Moon; the fragile-looking interplanetary liners that traveled among the worlds of the Solar System. She had even crossed interstellar space in the superluminal ship that the University of Earth had chartered for the scientific exchange with Ophiuchius Prime.
Her return trip to the 70 Ophiuchi system, though, was going to be a new experience for her. This time, she would be traveling as a member of the crew of a Space Ranger vessel. The Space Rangers were the law-enforcement arm of the Department of Space Affairs, enforcing the rule of law among the worlds of the UWSS. Consequently, their ships had to be more versatile than commercial vessels. The Orbit Jet could land and take off from the surface of a planet, cross interplanetary space, and even use superluminal travel to reach the worlds circling other suns.
Her return trip to the 70 Ophiuchi system, though, was going to be a new experience for her. This time, she would be traveling as a member of the crew of a Space Ranger vessel. The Space Rangers were the law-enforcement arm of the Department of Space Affairs, enforcing the rule of law among the worlds of the UWSS. Consequently, their ships had to be more versatile than commercial vessels. The Orbit Jet could land and take off from the surface of a planet, cross interplanetary space, and even use superluminal travel to reach the worlds circling other suns.
As soon as the boarding platform had carried them from the hanger to the Orbit Jet, Winky DelPonte led Ray to the ship's airlock and showed her how to work the controls, keeping up a steady stream of chatter as he did so. Unlike Rocky Jones, DelPonte didn't seem the least bit upset at the idea of having a woman on board. Of course, Ray was perfectly well aware that DelPonte liked her because she was a pretty girl. That was all right with her; she knew she was a pretty girl, and she much preferred DelPonte's hopeful gallantry to Jones' disapproving hostility.
Once throught the airlock door, Ray found that she and DelPonte were in a cylindrical room that seemed to be resting on its side. A series of controls and mechanisms marched up one of the curved walls until it reached the ceiling, and a ladder seemed to be set into the surface of another wall, leading up to an oval hatch in the ceiling.
"This is the engine room, also called C section. Don't let the screwy-looking set-up throw you, Miss Ray," DelPonte assured her with a smile. "It looks cock-eyed because we're still on the ground, and gravity points that way." He pointed to the floor beneath their feet. "After we blast off and we're up in free-fall, we switch on the good ol' artificial gravity, and that flat wall there becomes the floor." It took a moment for Ray to get it, but by tilting her head to the right she could see what he meant. What was now a ladder would become part of the floor, and instead of being in the ceiling, the oval hatch would be an ordinary doorway leading to the next section of the ship.
"I understand," she told him.
His grin widened. "I figured it wouldn't take you long to get it, Miss Ray. You're one smart cookie, I could tell that right off the bat. Now, if you'll follow me up this ladder, I'll show you to your station." So saying, he climbed the ladder, swiftly but, she noted, carefully. She followed more slowly, but equally carefully. When he reached the top of the ladder, the oval hatch slid aside, and he climbed up through it.
The next room was quite a bit smaller than the engine room. Near the hatch were three chairs, contoured to fit a reclining person. Ray could see that they were fixed to the flat wall that would become the floor under artificial gravity, and that they were designed to swing around on a pivot. Fixed near the ceiling on the flat wall was the navigator's station. The ladder continued up the flat wall to another oval hatch set in the ceiling.
"You'll be lying in one of these blast chairs during blast-off and free-fall," DelPonte explained. "Once we're in free-fall, the chairs swing over so they're horizontal to the new floor when the artificial gravity cuts in. Up there," he pointed to the hatch in the ceiling, "is the pilot room, the A section. Me and Rocky will be up there when we blast off." There came a sudden, loud beeping noise that slowly rose in pitch. "Secure for blast-off, Vena," said DelPonte, and she climbed into one of the blast chairs.
"They should turn off that noise," she remarked. "It gives me the creeps."
DelPonte's smile turned sardonic. "Say, have you been aboard a spaceship before?"
"Sure, on an interplanetary express. It's about as exciting as a streetcar. I've never flown in a Space Ranger ship before." She found herself grinning back. "The Orbit Jet is different, believe me."
"Well, that 'noise' is our blast-off synchroniser. When those two sounds get together, whoosh!" He gestured upward with his hand. "We'll be up there!"
The hatch leading down to the engine room slid open, and Rocky Jones climbed up into the navigation room. He ignored Ray and DelPonte completely, continuing to climb the ladder up into the pilot room. DelPonte gave a small sigh, then gestured up towards the navigation station. "There's your navigating table, Navigator. Have fun."
She said coolly, "Once this trip is over you two will be mighty glad I came along!"
DelPonte gave her another grin, then climbed the ladder up to the pilot room, disappearing as the hatch slid shut behind him.
* * *
As the blast-off synchoniser continued to rise in pitch, Winky DelPonte climbed up through the pilot room and seated himself at the co-pilot position, to the left of Rocky Jones. As he stowed away his peaked cap and belted himself in, Rocky asked, "How's the new crew member, our glamour-girl navigator?"
"Not a thing to worry about, Rock," DelPonte assured him. "I hate to admit it, but she sure knows her stuff." He was sure that the Skipper could tell from his tone of voice that he didn't hate admitting it at all.
The synchoniser approached the ready point. "All right, you ready, Winky?" asked Jones.
"Ready, sir," DelPonte answered. The two men adjusted their chairs to the blast-off positions and lay back. The synchoniser suddenly cut off, and there was a sound like thunder. DelPonte felt the familiar accelleration of blast-off push him down into his chair as the Orbit Jet lifted off from landing pad 17. DelPonte felt like he weighed six hundred pounds, for the simple reason that he did weigh six hundred pounds. Even inside the soundproofed pilot room, he could hear the Orbit Jet's twin engines blasting away for all they were worth. As always, he kept his eyes on the control panels, watching the Orbit Jet's altitude and accelleration increase. In less than ten minutes, they would have reached the speed of five miles per second and an altitude of a thousand miles, which would leave them orbiting the Earth in free-fall.
Blast-off was DelPonte's least favorite part of space flight. The rest of the time, he and Jones were at the controls, but during blast-off the high accelleration left them both almost helpless in their blast chairs. There was always a small part of DelPonte that was afraid something would go wrong with the Orbit Jet, and they would just keep accellerating for days until they ran out of fuel. It always came as a relief when they passed the three-hundred mile mark, because at that point the Orbit Jet's engines began to throttle back, and they could start to move around again.
There it was! The control light showing initial accelleration went out, and the engine thrust gage began to back down. Thirty seconds later, the Orbit Jet's accelleration had dropped to 1.5 gravities, and his and Jones' chairs rose automatically from their blast-off positions until the two men could reach the controls. As the Orbit Jet gained altitude, their accelleration continued to drop. As they entered the exosphere, their accelleration would fall below half a gravity, and they would switch on the Orbit Jet's artificial gravity.
One more result of the falling accelleration was that they both had enough breath to talk. Jones usually didn't take advantage of the opportunity, but he did now. "Winky," he said, "you know I've never questioned an order from Drake before, but I just can't see where it helps having a girl on board on a dangerous mission like this."
"Well, she speaks the Ophiuchians' language, Rocky," he pointed out, "and that's what we'll need if we make a successful landing there."
"I'd rather have an extra pair of fists," said Jones gruffly. "Anybody understands that language."
"Not a thing to worry about, Rock," DelPonte assured him. "I hate to admit it, but she sure knows her stuff." He was sure that the Skipper could tell from his tone of voice that he didn't hate admitting it at all.
The synchoniser approached the ready point. "All right, you ready, Winky?" asked Jones.
"Ready, sir," DelPonte answered. The two men adjusted their chairs to the blast-off positions and lay back. The synchoniser suddenly cut off, and there was a sound like thunder. DelPonte felt the familiar accelleration of blast-off push him down into his chair as the Orbit Jet lifted off from landing pad 17. DelPonte felt like he weighed six hundred pounds, for the simple reason that he did weigh six hundred pounds. Even inside the soundproofed pilot room, he could hear the Orbit Jet's twin engines blasting away for all they were worth. As always, he kept his eyes on the control panels, watching the Orbit Jet's altitude and accelleration increase. In less than ten minutes, they would have reached the speed of five miles per second and an altitude of a thousand miles, which would leave them orbiting the Earth in free-fall.
Blast-off was DelPonte's least favorite part of space flight. The rest of the time, he and Jones were at the controls, but during blast-off the high accelleration left them both almost helpless in their blast chairs. There was always a small part of DelPonte that was afraid something would go wrong with the Orbit Jet, and they would just keep accellerating for days until they ran out of fuel. It always came as a relief when they passed the three-hundred mile mark, because at that point the Orbit Jet's engines began to throttle back, and they could start to move around again.
There it was! The control light showing initial accelleration went out, and the engine thrust gage began to back down. Thirty seconds later, the Orbit Jet's accelleration had dropped to 1.5 gravities, and his and Jones' chairs rose automatically from their blast-off positions until the two men could reach the controls. As the Orbit Jet gained altitude, their accelleration continued to drop. As they entered the exosphere, their accelleration would fall below half a gravity, and they would switch on the Orbit Jet's artificial gravity.
One more result of the falling accelleration was that they both had enough breath to talk. Jones usually didn't take advantage of the opportunity, but he did now. "Winky," he said, "you know I've never questioned an order from Drake before, but I just can't see where it helps having a girl on board on a dangerous mission like this."
"Well, she speaks the Ophiuchians' language, Rocky," he pointed out, "and that's what we'll need if we make a successful landing there."
"I'd rather have an extra pair of fists," said Jones gruffly. "Anybody understands that language."
"Aw, give her a break, Rocky, she's a good kid."
Jones chose not to respond to DelPonte's assertion. Instead, he observed, "We're entering the exosphere. Switch on the artificial gravity."
"Artificial gravity, sir," DelPonte acknowledged as he slid over the lever that charged up the gravity plates. As always, there was an odd sensation as the direction of "down" flipped around from the tail section of the Orbit Jet to the flat section of hull beneath their chairs. DelPonte uttered the traditional Space Ranger invocation to the gravity plates. "Go to work, Gravin' Gerty, and don't lose your grip."
Jones immediately set to work comparing their current course and speed to those outlined in the mission profile. After a minute's work, he ordred, "Correct drift point one by point four."
"One by four, sir," said DelPonte as he did so.
The hatch opened, and Vena Ray entered from the navigation room. Looking back at her, DelPonte was glad to see that she had come through the blast-off without a problem. "Pardon me, sir," she said to Jones, "but we've entered the exosphere."
"Oh, really?" Jones answered blandly.
"And may I suggest a drift correction? Point one by point four."
Impressed, DelPonte said, "Good charting, Vena."
"Thanks, Winky," she said with a smile. Turning back to Jones, she said, "Awaiting orders, sir."
"You're a little late," was Jones' response.
"What should I do, sir?" said Ray, clearly determined to take her auxiliary Space Ranger role seriously.
"Return to quarters," was Jones' answer. "And knit me a sweater."
Ray's voice dropped into the subarctic range. "Sorry, sir, I don't know how to knit. But if I did, I'd make you a muffler . . . and maybe tie it real tight around your neck." She turned away, paused a moment to add a sarcastic "Sir," and left the control room.
Winky shook his head. Skipper, he silently addressed Jones, sometimes you can be a real jerk.
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