Crash Beam

Dan Kearns, sick and shaking, could already hear them talk: Yeah, come in on the Kearns beam—it's a new way to die!
It happened so fast that for a minute he just stood there absolutely incapable of taking it in. One instant the big Earth-Venus rocket freighter was sizzling through the fog to a perfect landing on the field below. Then suddenly she dipped, undershot the field and vanished in a flash and a thundering explosion that shook the observation tower.
In the dream-like quiet that followed, Dan Kearns heard the faint yells of the landing crew. He saw the big searchlights switch on, cutting wide swaths of light through the boiling fog. Tiny white-coated medics crossed the patches of light, running frantically. Dan sat down in the chair feeling sick and very tired. Then the door of the tower room opened and Rawlins, the supervisor, stepped in.
All right, Kearns, he said curtly, you're through. And if anyone asks me about your ability as an electronics engineer, I'll write out the blackest recommendation I can think of.
Dan got up slowly. How many were killed?
Two! Rawlins glared. Two of my best pilots!
Dan's shoulders stiffened. Listen, Rawlins, I'm just as interested as you in breaking Roehm's monopoly on Earth-Venus rockets.
Get out!
I can't get out. Don't forget you have another rocket due in twenty minutes—a passenger rocket.
Rawlins' face went pale. My God! I'd forgotten. He threw up his hands. Turn 'em back, he shrieked. Send 'em back to earth! It's suicide to land on that guide beam.
I can't send them back to Earth, Dan said quietly. They haven't enough fuel.
Then send 'em to one of Roehm's fields. It's an admission of complete defeat, but we can't kill 'em.