It still took longer than a month.
It took nine weeks. And then our shuttles were hauling up the parts, and extra crews were slamming them together as fast as they arrived in the satellite's orbit. That was done in a matter of hours.
The Comrades bluffed around at doing the same thing, but all they could do was go through the motions. Take incentive away from anybody and you just can't deliver.
They couldn't. We did.
Funny thing too when you think it was due to the efforts of one of the most disliked of our men. Irony, maybe, but that's the way things work out sometimes.
It was just ten weeks to the day after he crashed that I was bringing the first Moon-landing ship ever built down over the plain where McGinty'd smashed up. Kolomar was co-piloting right next to me.
Yes, we found the wrecked L-8 without much trouble.
Split wide open, lunar dust spilled all over its insides, and what was left of McGinty buried under a couple of feet of it. He hadn't even put on a spacesuit.
Haliburton was with us this trip, and it was he who found the plastisheen envelope. Not so important, now.
It was young Loftus who found the note. Kolomar read it over my shoulder.