Satellite of Death

Five men were stationed on Earth's space satellite when the alien starship moored itself nearby. So the question—who would investigate?
There were five aboard the orbiting wheel in the sky—an American, a Russian, a Frenchman, an Englishman, an Indian. Their job was to keep watch—over each other. The Wheel held enough fission-fusion bombs to blast all of Earth but the five watchdogs saw to it that those bombs remained stored, a potential threat and no more to aggressors below.
And then Gregson and Lal discovered the alien spaceship moored outside Supplementary Airlock One.
It looked like no spaceship they had ever set eyes on before. Gregson, the American, said, You see that thing out there?
The Indian, Lal, nodded and rubbed his aquiline nose reflectively. I see it—but what is it?
Spaceship of some kind, said Gregson. Damndest-looking spaceship I've ever seen, though. Looks like it's moored near the airlock. Wonder if we have visitors?
He peered at the ship. It had little in common with the unstreamlined dumbbells Earth used for spaceflight; it was slim and tapering, with no visible rocket orifices; it was made of some strange iridescent metal that glimmered in the moonlight.
Let's investigate, Gregson said.
We should call the others, said Lal. All five should be on hand.
You're right. Gregson touched his belt-stud, giving the signal that called all five crewmen to hand. They appeared quickly—Lasseux, Beveridge, Golovunoff. Silently, Gregson pointed through the view-plate at the newcomer.
After a long look Beveridge shook his head. That didn't come from Earth, the Englishman said. Not unless they've developed an entirely new drive principle. And look at the design....
That's an alien spaceship, all right, Lasseux said.