The ferry contained a tiny radio, but Blane had not expected it to be useful, since it was adjusted for the frequencies that had been used by the work forces who built the Goddard. He reached out and turned it on, expecting nothing. Yet there was a voice coming from it, speaking excellent English. It was a female voice, and a pleasant one.
"Ahoy, space taxi! Tsiolkovsky calling taxi. Oh, for Pete's sake, don't you Americans have two-way radio? Wiggle your tail or something so I'll know you're receiving, and I'll give you landing instructions!"
Peal grinned and picked up the microphone. "Ahoy, Sulky."
"Ah. So you can answer. Then if you can match our orbit, come beneath the hub. The smallest landing net will fit the nose of your taxi, if our records are correct. You did bring the mercury, didn't you?"
"We brought it," Peal assured her.
"Then in the name of science and humanity, I thank you. And—and I'm so glad to see you, I'll be there to kiss you welcome!"
"There are two of us," Peal started to answer, but she had clicked off. He watched as Blane began jockeying into position, cranking furiously at the little weighted wheel that controlled the angle of the ferry. "Pretty sure we'd come wasn't she?"
"Edwards had a beam antenna on his ship. He could have tipped the Sulky off on his way down," Blane said. The little ship was finally lined up and he blasted forward gently against the small landing net. The nose settled firmly into a silicone doughnut that formed a perfect airtight seal. They wouldn't even need to wear spacesuits.
There were three girls and four men waiting for them inside the enormous hub. Six moved forward promptly to begin transferring the cans of mercury, but one girl, shorter, darker and prettier than the others, stepped forward. She kissed both of them—solemnly on both cheeks after the Russian formal fashion. Then she held out her hand.