One Against the Moon

by Donald A. Wollheim

"What happened though was that after we had crossed the dividing line in space where the Moon's pull equaled the Earth's pull, our gyroscopic controls jammed. Von Borck couldn't turn the rockets in our rear to the indicated direction. We struggled with the gyro for about forty minutes, even going outside to get at the airless tube section beneath this sealed cabin. When we finally got the controls operating, it was far too late to attempt to establish an orbit. Instead, Von Borck did the next best thing—he decided to attempt a direct landing. He reversed the rocket entirely, slowed us down and came down in an effort to land on his jets. It's a very difficult balancing trick, especially on an unknown landing field with uncertain distances.

"Actually he almost succeeded. He came down just a little too fast, smashed up our tubes, rammed the whole rear down into the pumice-and-dust surface, leaving our nose cabin sticking out unharmed. Von Borck slammed his head against the metal paneling. I took a spill, and Arkady who had volunteered to stand at the opposite observation port from the pilot in order to inform him of any dangers from that side was thrown across the room and killed."

Robin nodded slowly. "But why didn't you just stay here instead of going out?"

Peter went to a wall cabin, opened it. Inside there were about a half-dozen small containers and cans. "That's the whole stock of food we have left," was the reply. "We couldn't have stayed here too long. When I looked around outside I saw mist issuing from that spot in the cliff we came through. Obviously we'd die if we didn't find some place to stay. I went outside, buried Arkady, explored a little, realized that that rill out there was a sealed cleft which probably held air. So I loaded Von Borck, who had been unconscious for hours, and set out to go underground."

Robin got up, walked around. He was already in better shape. He looked at the panels, found them complex and with the markings in Russian. "What's the source of the electricity?" he asked.

"There's an atomic pile somewhere in the rear of the rocket," Peter replied. "That's something you don't smash easily. It's still operating."

"Can we send a message back to Earth then?" asked Robin. "If we've the power, and this ship must have a radio...."

"We tried that, but the radio was smashed in the landing. However, there is an emergency wave sender which was designed for just such a thing. I don't know if that's working. Let's see."

Peter opened a door set in the floor of the rocket which opened on an area jammed with equipment, wiring, and extra supplies. He reached around, extracted a small black box. He held it up, shook it gently. Handing it to Robin, he took out a roll of wire, and seating himself at the pilot's seat began to connect the box to the rocket. When it was plugged in to the electric system of the cabin, Peter flicked a switch and turned a knob. A thin humming came from the box.

"It works," he said. "This gives off a steady signal wave going on the general air-travel band. The radio buzz can be heard from Earth if it's being sought. By following it, astronomers can trace exactly where this rocket is. All we have to do is leave this on—it will run for years on our atomic power source. Eventually, rockets will locate us."