  The orphanage dormitory was locked in the stillness of slumber. Light from the full moon filtered through the large window which ran the entire length of the boys sleeping quarters. Twenty cots filled the dormitory, and all but one held its sleeper. Dark-haired Garry Coleman was standing beside his cot, quietly dressing. Every now and then he would cast an anxious glance toward the darkened door at the end of the dormitory. Above all, he must not disturb the charge-of-quarters, or all would be lost. As he sat on the edge of the cot to put on his shoes, Garry heard a squeak from one of the cots. He stiffened, his heart thumping fearfully. Then Garry breathed easily. He saw that it was only Patch, who occupied the bunk next to his. “Hey, Garry, where are you going?” Patch asked interestedly. Patch was short and towheaded. He was Garry’s best friend, and so Garry did not mind telling him. “I’m going to the spaceport and watch the Orion blast off for the Von Braun Space Station. Want to go?” “Sure thing!” Patch said. “You’ll have to take the same chance that I do,” Garry reminded him. “That’s okay by me.” Patch grinned. “If we do get caught, we’ll just be restricted to the grounds for two weeks. That won’t keep us out of the science lab where we spend a lot of time anyhow.” It was a warm April night. The sky was thick with stars as bright as diamond dust. “I’d give anything to be out there in the deeps among the planets,” Garry said, as they hurried across the newly sprouting lawn of the orphanage a few minutes later. “The life of a spaceman must be the most exciting thing in the world.” “Yeah,” Patch agreed. “But I guess we’ll never make it, Garry, at least not for many years. And they say you sure have to know science and navigation. That takes a lot of study.” “I wouldn’t care what it takes,” Garry said. “I’d be willing to study for as long as it would take, because the reward would be worth the effort.” Their rapid steps took them onto one of the main streets of the city where moving sidewalks, called “Ped-A-Rides,” were operating. The sidewalk was a continuous belt, about six feet wide, and there were benches located at intervals upon it where the pedestrians could sit. A railing was on both sides of the Ped-A-Ride, but at intervals of about half a block there were gates where pedestrians could enter. Patch and Garry went to the nearest gate, and Garry pulled the lever which slowed the sidewalk down so that they could board it. When Garry had deposited their fare in the meter, a bar slid away so that they could enter. It was about 2230 o’clock, an hour and a half before midnight, and not many people were on the Ped-A-Ride. The boys took seats, and the sidewalk carried them along into the night. As the Ped-A-Ride topped the crest of a hill, Garry pointed into the distance. “There she is, Patch—the Orion, smoking and straining like a race horse, just as if she can’t wait to get going!” “She sure is a beauty,” Patch agreed. “The earth-bound ships are a whole lot trimmer and better looking than the ships that never touch down.” “The earth-bound ships have to be streamlined so that they can slide smoothly through the earth’s atmosphere,” Garry said, “but the ships that remain in space look like a bunch of globes and girders, because they never meet the friction of any planet’s atmosphere and they don’t need the sturdiness and rocket power.” Patch laughed. “You sound like one of our schoolbooks, Garry,” he said. As the Ped-A-Ride neared the spaceport, the brilliant lights of the busy area merged into a hazy glare that brightened the night until it was almost as light as day. The slim prow of the Orion reached higher into the sky than any other object on the vast field, even loftier than the giant control tower. “They say the Orion is more space scarred than any other ship in the Space Service,” Garry remarked. “Meteor dust has grooved her sides so much that they look like the scratches on a rifle bullet.” “I knew she was one of the oldest crafts in the Service,” Patch said. “I guess she’s carried many a person to the Von Braun Station on their way to Luna and the other planets.” The Ped-A-Ride had nearly reached the gate of the spaceport when Garry said to his friend, “Patch, we’d better move down among those people ahead of us. It looks like they’re going to get off at the port.” “Why?” “If one of the port police spots us, he might get suspicious seeing a couple of kids alone at this time of night. If we mingle with the crowd, the police may think we are with them.” They got up and began walking forward along the moving platform. Then they took seats behind a man who wore the uniform of the Space Service. He had several bags, and it seemed likely that he was going to board the Orion. As the Ped-A-Ride neared the port gate, Garry closely studied the stalwart young man seated before them. Garry wondered at the many experiences that must have been encountered by this spaceman during his career. Garry leaned over and touched the spaceman on the shoulder. “Excuse me, Sir,” he said. “Are you boarding the Orion?” Garry saw a pleasant but deeply lined face turned upward toward his own. “Yes,” the astronaut replied, then asked, “Are you?” “Er, no, Sir,” Garry replied. “We—my friend and I—we just want to see her blast off.” The spaceman smiled. “Guess you are pretty interested in space to be coming all the way to the port just to see an old crate like the Orion blast off.” “Yes, we are, Sir,” Garry replied. “I’m very interested in it. I hope to be a spaceman someday.” “I think you will be, too,” the man said confidently. “I can see the enthusiasm in your eyes.” “Thanks,” Garry returned. “Have you made many trips spaceward?” “A dozen or so,” was the reply. “The number is not important, though, you must understand. Usually, one voyage can last quite a while.” The spaceman extended a big, sunburned hand to Garry. “I’m First Space Officer Mulroy. What’s your name?” “Garry, Sir. Garry Coleman. My friend here is Patrick Foster, but he’s called Patch for short.” As the Ped-A-Ride neared the gate of the spaceport, Garry had an idea by which he and Patch might get inside without being questioned by the port police. “Mr. Mulroy,” Garry said, “I notice that you have some baggage. I wonder if Patch and I could help you carry it—maybe aboard the Orion.” The officer smiled. “You want to see what she looks like, eh? Okay, it’s a deal.” “Thank you, Sir,” Garry said. Presently Officer Mulroy stood up. “Here we are, fellows,” he said. “Let’s get our things together quickly. I can’t afford to miss my blast-off on the Orion. I have a sailing date for Mars in a few weeks, and the stars wait for no man!” |
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