And no living thing.
He stood frozen in one of the rooms while the beam of his flash picked out a code stenciled on a steel plate over some piece of machinery. X59-306MY—Experimental—Explosion Rocket—Moon.
The flash dropped from Joe Spain's fingers. He stood in the pitch-darkness while the jets vibrated through the rocket.
But there was no fear in him. Only the great pain of futility. Only his tears, and his whispered words:
"They'll never know. Nobody won't ever know!"
THE END
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from If Worlds of Science Fiction March 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.