But no sooner had he recovered from the first violent thrust than it came again as the rocket’s second stage began firing. Then the crushing pressure eased once more, only to return once again as the third stage, the occupied section of the Orion, began firing away. When this force let up, Garry knew it was the last.
The ship did not appear to be moving, but Garry knew it must be traveling many thousands of miles an hour.
Garry’s shaky hands groped for the belts of the harness that snugly fitted his body. He worked the buckles loose from his upper body and sat up on his G-couch. He did not release his legs, because he was already feeling the dizzying effects of weightlessness. He looked across at Patch on the next couch.
Patch was still lying flat, and his face was pasty white. His eyes were closed, and this alarmed Garry.
“Patch!” Garry called, repeating the name over and over.
Patch had blacked out, but after a few minutes he came back to consciousness.
“Wh—what happened?” Patch asked in a weak voice.
“We’re in space, Patch,” Garry replied. “They’ll probably think we’re stowaways and send us to jail. Maybe Officer Mulroy will get in trouble too.”
But this was the least of Patch’s worries right now. He put his hand to his head, complaining, “Gee, I feel terrible. Everything’s going around! And I had the worst nightmare all night long!”
Garry had to grin at this. “We haven’t been here all night, just a few minutes. It just seems like a long time.”