Spaceman's luck

ILLUSTRATED BY EBEL
Holt wasn't interested in mere glory. He was on his way to the Moon, but only because that's where he'd find the road to all the money he could spend. Holt had it all planned....
A flare of light arced upwards and moments later the shattering report dinned in the ears of the crowd, rolling across the field like thunder. The noise covered the sharply indrawn breath of ten thousand people. A sonorous voice amplified a millionfold announced: X Minus Fifteen Minutes!
There was a second or two of absolute silence and then the waiting crowd let out its breath all at once in an audible sigh. They wiped their glasses nervously, or poised their binoculars, or scratched their heads for the last nervous time, hoping that they would not sneeze at the improper second and so miss the takeoff; it would be over just about that quickly.
Out across the field, the focus of ten thousand pairs of eyes, stood the Lady Luna . She looked small from the crowd, but the three men who stood at one tail-fin were dwarfed by her size.
This is about it, Gordon, said the oldest of the lot.
Gordon Holt nodded. I've about five minutes yet, he said nervously.
The middle-aged man said, Time for a last cigarette, Gordon.
Holt shook his head. Not after training to do without for six months. Save it until I come back.
Doctor Walsch nodded. That's good sense, Gordon. We'll be waiting for you. How do you feel?
Fine. Just a bit jumpy.
You ought to feel as fit as a Guarnerius. You've been trained and you're trim and fit. I doubt that you'll ever feel any better in your life than you do right now.