The madness called lunacy.
Seeds must be planted just so, in relation to the moon, or the crop will fail.
Men had always felt strange things about the moon. Would a Saturn missile and a mechanical monster in its nose be able to destroy all that?
Jim started the car. "Let's get back. I've got to know how the flight's going!"
They were still in the blockhouse, but the tension was relaxed. They were talking and watching the meters and cathode ray tubes without the strain and fear of failure. Jim knew the answer even before Sam and Allan walked up to him and slapped him on the back.
"Where the devil did you go?" said Sam. "I thought you were going to be right behind me when we fired, and you weren't here at all!"
"It's like your first baby, you want to be there, and you don't. Was it a good shot?"
"Was it a good shot?" Allan's face became ecstatic. "We've never had a better one. On course all the way!"
The Project Director, Emil Hennesey was behind them. His face was bleak. "I expected you to be here for the firing, Cochran," he said. "It seems to display little interest in your end of the project that you didn't feel it necessary to show up."