They were interrupted by a thunderous blast of firing-tubes as a battered cargo ship of the tramp class, a quarter of its tubes out of commission, hurtled upward from the great ascension-framework. At once the huge machinery beside it that held the Earth-Guard rocket was sliding it smoothly into the ascension-framework to go out also. The warning-bell was jangling again and Calden and Hartley came up to the two men.
"All ready," Calden reported, saluting. "The starter's given us 9.40—that's eight minutes from now."
Evans nodded. "Time to go, Seaworth," and they strode toward the stern-door of the big, upreared craft.
"I see you've still got my little ship tacked on," Seaworth commented as they moved across the station.
"Yes, refueled and ready for you whenever we're near enough the moon for you to leave safely."
They passed inside and the stern-door closed and whirred as Hartley spun it carefully shut. Climbing the light metal ladders inside the upreared craft the four men gained the pilot-house, where Calden took his accustomed seat at the controls. Strapped into their shock-absorbing seats, the four men looked down over the station and its swarming throngs, a busy scene in the morning sunlight.
Just beside the ascension-framework rose the starter's tower, from which, at intervals, the streams of ships were allowed to start out into the various space-lanes. Lights were flashing and changing color on it each moment as the minute for the departure of the Earth-Guard ship drew near. Already the machinery beside the ascension-framework was ready to move into it the next rocket to start, a great passenger-craft into which hundreds of passengers were hastening, crowds of friends waving them bon voyage. Few in the station were paying any attention to the routine departure of the Earth-Guard's craft.
The lights on the starter's tower had flashed from yellow to green, and then to red. Calden was watching them imperturbably, his hands resting on the main firing-levers, while Evans, as always at the moment of starting, involuntarily drew a deep preparatory breath. Then the lights flashed suddenly pure white, Calden's hands depressed the levers with a single motion, and, as a thunderous blast of sound broke from the great rocket's stern beneath them, they were pressed with immeasurable force into their seats.
The sunlit station had vanished in a flash from around them, and there was a dizzy lurching and trembling of the great mass as it shot upward and outward. From outside came a steady roar of air against the rocket's walls that was audible even above the thunder of continued explosions from the rear; and the air grew suddenly warm about them. Then the roar of air had ceased, the walls of the pilot-house were cooling, and the diffused bright sunlight of the atmosphere was gone. For in the immensity of space the sun flared fiercely on one side, while a rayless gloom, gemmed with steady-burning stars, stretched away on the other.