Somebody on the rewrite desk said, "Something wrong with his radio? He's gotta have his radio or he can't come in."
Jake took his feet from the desk and sat up. "What'd' ya mean, something's wrong with his radio?"
"Bunny said he's calling for his landing instructions but they can't get anything back to him. He's just reached Brennschluss and he's in free fall now; it'll be four days before he gets here. That's the way they work it—he's supposed to get in touch with the spaceport he wants to land at, and...."
"I know how they work it," Jake growled. "See if there's anything on the last newswire from Luna about him."
Phil Mooney flicked his set on again and repeated carefully, "Calling Oneonta Spaceport. Phil Mooney Outbound Luna, Calling Oneonta Spaceport. Come in Oneonta."
Calling Phil Mooney. Calling Phil Mooney. Oneonta Spaceport Calling Phil Mooney. Come in Mooney.
He cast a quick glance back at the child, strapped carefully in the metal bunk. She was unconscious now, possibly as a result of the acceleration in leaving Luna. He'd had to reach a speed of approximately two miles per second to escape Earth's satellite, and that had called for more G's acceleration than Lillian's sick body could bear. His lips thinned back over his teeth; it would be even worse when they came in for landing and he had to brake against Earth's gravity.
He switched on the set again to give it another try. Instructions were to contact the spaceport at which you planned to land as soon as possible. There was plenty of time, of course, but the sooner the better.
He said, "Calling Oneonta Spaceport. This is Phil Mooney, Luna, Calling Oneonta. Come in Oneonta."