An unintelligible buzz of voice murmured in the radios. Unconsciously Kevin tried to squeeze the earphones against his ears, but his heavily-gloved hands met only the rigid globe of his helmet.
"You get it, Bert?"
"No."
"This is Jones," a new voice loud and clear. "Earth says 15 seconds to blastoff."
"Rocket away!"
Like a tiny, clear bell the words emerged from static. Bert and Kevin gyrated their bodies so they could stare directly at the passing panorama of Earth below. They had seen it hundreds of times, but now 250 more miles of altitude gave the illusion they were studying a familiar landmark through the small end of a telescope.
"There it is!" Bert shouted.
A pinpoint of flame, that was it, with no apparent motion as it rose almost vertically toward them.
Then a black dot in an infinitesimal circle of flame—the rocket silhouetted against its own fire ... as big as a dime ... as big as a dollar....
... as big as a basketball, the circle of flame soared up toward them.