  The idea of stretching out comfortably with a good book and plenty of spare time did not seem so satisfying after several hours. After this period, everyone began to get restless, with a desire to get up and stretch his legs, as they could have done if they were back on the Carefree. “I know how you feel, fellows,” Captain Eaton said sympathetically, as he noticed how tired everyone had become of just sitting around. “I’d like to take a romp myself outside in a space suit, but without knowing how soon we’ll be rescued and having no surplus of supplies, I don’t think we should use up our oxygen that fast. Everyone agree?” Everyone did. Then to while away the hours that were beginning to drag slowly along, the captain suggested that they talk among themselves and exchange stories. This activity occupied the group for some time. Garry was glad that poor Ben was not mentioned again to further depress everyone. Finally, all became “talked out,” just as they had become “read out” before that. And by this time some were ready for a nap and began dozing in their seats. Garry watched the captain settle back in his seat, sighing tiredly. “I suppose I should be grateful for being alive,” he said, “but I feel almost as if I had died myself. Yes, this is a sad day for an old man who has lost at the same time the dearest things to his heart—one of his best friends and a funny-looking space ship that had come to be even homier than his earthly home.” Garry noticed how much the conversation kept returning to Ben. He guessed that the unselfish spaceman would be on their minds for a long time to come. “I wonder where they went down, Captain?” Mac asked. “I didn’t even see the Carefree, once Ben cut us free.” “None of us saw her,” the captain replied, “and I’m glad. I hope they never find her remains on the moon, because I would feel compelled to go to the site of the crash and I would not want to do that. No, it’s better this way.” Before long, someone mentioned food. There was some mild enthusiasm from the others, but not much. Everyone knew that all there was to eat were capsules that would provide nourishment but little enjoyment. Gino made a face when the capsule bottle was passed to him and he shook two of the pellets out into his hand. “To think that I would ever have to make a meal of these things,” he said sadly, “I, who at one time or another, have served up the grandest dishes ever put together.” All ate silently. Since the additional talk about Ben, it was as if cold water had been poured over their spirits. After the brief meal the captain suggested that the lights be turned down and everyone try to get a “night” of sleep. “I think all of us are brain fagged and bored after all that has happened,” he said. “Maybe there’ll be someone knocking on our air-lock door before we wake up.” No one objected to the idea, as it seemed to be the only thing left for them to do. When everyone was settled down for the “night,” Captain Eaton cut off all lights within the flier. It was still not very dark in the flier because outdoors it was brighter than the brightest moonlight night on earth, owing to the brilliant glow of earthshine. “If our rescuers do not show up some time tomorrow,” Captain Eaton said, “we had better start cutting back on our battery power. That will mean no lights inside, except use of the flashlight in the cabinet, and less warmth. I have a feeling that our batteries will play out before any of our other supplies do.” When Garry woke the next “morning,” he heard some of the others stirring about. Patch was standing over him with two tablets and Garry’s personal water bottle which squeezed the liquid into one’s mouth. “What’s this?” Garry mumbled. “Time for my medicine?” “Medicine nothing,” Patch replied. “This, son, is breakfast. Or would you prefer nice crisp bacon and fluffy scrambled eggs?” “Aw, Patch, cut it out,” Garry pleaded. “You don’t have to make this any tougher than it is!” Garry took the food pills, chewing them slowly to get what little flavor there was in them. Then he finished off with the water, which was little more than enough to wet his throat. “Gee, the captain has really rationed the water, hasn’t he?” Garry whispered. “He cut it back even further this morning,” Patch replied. “Know why? Because nobody came knocking on our air lock as he had hoped maybe they would. On top of that, I heard him say he was going to run another close inventory on all our life-supporting items to see how much is left.” “Gosh, do you think he’s afraid no one will be knocking any time soon?” “I don’t know,” Patch replied, “but he has been frowning quite a bit this morning.” The captain presently made it clear to all why he had been doing so much frowning. “Frankly,” he said, “I thought those people at the mining settlement would have had plenty of time while we slept to pay us a visit. If our SOS reached them soon after we began sending, as it should have, they should have had a flier over here within a few hours’ time. Our chief essentials for staying alive are our food, water, air, and power supply which is necessary to keep us warm. It’s several hundred degrees below zero outside, in case you haven’t thought about it.” They took another inventory, and the results were not very heartening. “We’re using up much too much of our battery power,” Captain Eaton said. “That’s the weakest link in our chain of existence. I didn’t realize that yesterday when we had the lights on for reading. From now on until someone comes, we’ll have to do without light altogether except when necessary. That means we’ll have to do our reading by earthshine and our one flashlight. We may have some strained eyes, but that’s the best we can do. We’ll also have to reduce our heat a little to save on power that way too.” “Captain, do you think we should check the condition of the battery in the outside transmitter?” Isaac asked. “It’s supposed to have a useful life of seventy-two hours, operating automatically for a few minutes every half hour,” the captain said, “but the battery may have lost a lot of its power in storage. I think it would be a good idea to check it. It has a test meter on it, Isaac.” “I’ll go out and check it, Captain,” Isaac said. When he had pulled on one of the space suits, Isaac checked the air and pressure and went outside. Garry and Patch watched him move in a light-footed gliding motion toward the spot where the antenna had been set up. He spent several minutes with the rig and then came back into the flier. As he lifted his helmet off, he said with a shake of his head, “It’s quit sending, Captain. You were right. The battery must have been in bad shape to start with.” “Not sending,” Captain Eaton muttered to himself, a dark worried frown on his face. “That means that if our SOS was not picked up earlier, it never will be, and no one will know where we are.” Garry’s heart chilled at hearing this. What the captain really meant, but did not say, was that they were doomed to a slow death as their heat and air were depleted and they froze in the moon’s incredible cold. That would happen long before their food and water gave out. Captain Eaton placed a fatherly arm around each of the boys and said, “Fellows, I wish there were something I could do. Believe me, if I could give my life to save you two, as Ben did, I would gladly do it. Do you believe that?” “Yes, Sir, I do believe it,” Garry answered sincerely. “But can’t we really do something—anything at all? It—it’s better than waiting, isn’t it?” “You’re trembling, both of you,” the captain said, “and I can’t blame you. If it’s any comfort to you, I think you’re the bravest two boys I ever knew. I would have been proud to have had a couple of sons like you.” The captain pressed their arms affectionately. Garry knew how he felt about his helplessness to do anything. “You ask if there’s anything we could do,” Captain Eaton said. “Of course we’re not giving up hope completely at this early stage, but things do look bad. We could ration ourselves severely and maybe prolong our existence a few days, but after that....” Garry finished the gloomy sentence in his own mind. |
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