But the difference would increase.

"Escape speeds" for rockets are very critical Hastings had calculated the classical hundred-hour orbit and the Luna had been aimedjo reach the place where the Moon would be four days later. But initial speed is critical. A difference of less than one percent in ship speed at cutoff can halve-or double-the transit time from Earth to Moon. The Luna was running -- very slightly ahead of schedule-but when it reached the orbit of the Moon, the Moon would not be there.

Doctor Corley tugged at his thinning hair. "Sure, the cutoff was mushy, but I-was expecting it and I noted the mass readings. It's not enough to account for the boost. Here-take a look."

Corley was hunched at the log desk, a little shelf built wto the space between the acceleration bunks. He was strapped to a stool fixed to the deck in front of it. Barnes floated at his shoulder; he took the calculation and scanned it. "I don't follow you," Barnes said presently; "your expended mass is considerably higher than Hastings calculated."

"You're looking at the wrong figure," Corley pointed out. "You forgot the mass of water you used up in that -- test. Subtract that from the total mass expended to get the effective figure for blast off-this figure here. Then you apply that -- " Corley hesitated, his expression changed from annoyance to dismay. "Oh, my God!"

-- -- "Huh? What is it, Doc? Found the mistake?"

"Oh, how could I be so stupid!" Corley started frenzied figuring.

"What have you found?" Corley did not answer; Barnes grabbed his arm. "What's up?"

"Huh? Don't bother me."

"I'll bother you with a baseball bat. What have you found?"

"Eh? Look, Jim, what's the final speed -- of a rocket, ideal case?"

"What is this? A quiz show? Jet speed times the logarithm of the mass ratio. Pay me."

"And you changed the mass ratio! No wonder we're running 'high."

"Me?"

"We both did-my fault as much as yours. Listen; you spilled a mass of water in scaring off that truckload of thugs-but Hastings' figures were based on us lifting that particular mass all the way to the Moon. The ship should have grossed almost exactly two hundred fifty tons at takeoff; she was shy what you had used-so we're going too fast."

"Huh? I wasted reaction mass, so we're going too fast? That doesn't make sense." Barnes hooked a foot into the legs of the stool to anchor himself, and did a rough run-through of the problem with slide rule and logarithm table. "Well, boil me in a bucket!" He added humbly, "Doc, I shouldn't have asked to be skipper. idon't know enough."

Corley's worried features softened. "Don't feel that way, Jim. Nobody knows enough-yet. God knows I've put in enough time on theory, but I went ahead and urged you to make the blunder."

"Doe, how important is this? The error is less than one percent. I'd guess that we would reach the Moon about an hour early."

"And roughly you'd be wrong. Initial speed is critical, Jim; you know that!"

"How critical? When do we reach the Moon?"

Corley looked glumly at the pitiful tools he had with him-a twenty-inch log-log slide rule, seven place tables, a Nautical Almanac, and an office-type calculator which bore the relation to a "giant brain" that a firecracker does to an A-bomb. "I don't know. I'll have to put it up to Hastings." He threw his pencil at the desk top; it bounced off and floated away. "The question is: do we get there at'all?"

"Oh, it can't be that bad!"

"It is that bad."

From across the compartment Bowles called out, "Come and get it-or I throw it to the pigs!"

But food had to wait while Corley composed a message to Hastings. It was starkly simple: OFF TRAJECTORY. USE DATA WHITE SANDS MUROC AND COMPUTE CORRECTION VECTOR. PLEASE USE UTMOST HASTE-CORLEY.

After sending it Traub announced that he wasn't -- hungry and didn't guess he would eat.

Bowles left the "galley" (one lonely hot plate) and moved to Traub's couch. Traub had strapped himself into it to have stability while he handled his radio controls. "Snap out of it, man," Bowles advised. "Must eat, you know."

Traub looked gray. "Thanks, Admiral, but I couldn't."

"So you don't like my cooking? By the way, my friends call me 'Red.'"

"Thanks, uh-Red. No, I'm just not hungry."

Bowles brought his head closer and spoke in low tones. "Don't let it get you, Mannie. I've been in worse jams and come out alive. Quit worrying."

"I'm not worrying."

BOwles chuckled. "Don't be ashamed of it, son. We all get upset, first time under fire. Come eat."

"I can't eat. And I've been under fire."

"Really?"

"Yes, really! I've got two Purple Hearts to prove it. Admiral, leave me alone, please. My stomach is awful -- uneasy."

Bowles said, "I beg your pardon, Mannie." He added, "Maybe you need another seasick pilL"

"Could be."

"I'll fetch one." Bowles did so, then returned again shortly with a transparent sack filled with milk-to be exact,' a flexible plastic nursing cell, complete with nipple. "Sweet milk, Mannie. Maybe it'll comfort your stomach."

Traub looked at it curiously. "With this should go a diaper and a rattle," he announced. "Thanks, uh -- Red."

"Not at all, Mannie. If that stays down, I'll fix you a sandwich." He turned in the air and rejoined the others.

The Luna plunged on; Earth dropped away; radio signals grew weaker-and still no word from Hastings. Corley spent the time trying endlessly and tediously to anticipate the answer he expected from Hastings, using the tools be had. Traub stood guard at the radio. Barnes and Bowles spent a lengthy time staring out the ports-back at the shrinking, cloud-striped Earth, forward at the growing gibbous Moon'and brilliant steady stars-until Bowles fell asleep in mid-sentence, a softly snoring free balloon.

Barnes nudged him gently toward his couch and there strapped him loosely, to keep him from cluttering up the cramped cabin. He eyed 'his own couch longingly, then turned to Traub instead.

"Out of there, Mannie," he ordered. "I'll relieve you while you catch some shut-eye."

"Me? Oh, that's all right, Skipper. You get some sleep yourself and I'll take a rain check."

Barnes hesitated. "Sure you don't want to be relieved?"

"Not a bit. I feel -- " He broke off and added, "Just aminute," and turned to his controls. He was on earphones now, rather than speaker. He settled them in place and said sharply, "Go ahead, Earth."

Presently Traub turned to Barnes: "Chicago Tribune -- they want an exclusive story from you."

"No, I'm going to sleep."

Traub reported Barnes' answer, then turned baCk. "How about the Admiral or Doctor Corley?"

"The co-pilot is asleep and Doctor Corley is not to be disturbed."

"Mr. Barnes?" Traub's manner was diffident. "Do you mind if they get one from mer'

Barnes chuckled. "Not at all. But stick them plenty." As Barnes closed his eyes he could hear Traub dickering with some faceless negotiator. He wondered if Traub would ever get to spend the fee? What was a man like Traub doing up here anyhow, in a ship headed nowhere inahellofahurry? --

For that matter, why was Jim Barnes here?

- After his -- interview, Traub continued guarding the radio. Signals grew fainter and presently reduced to garble. The room was quiet, save for the soft murmur of the air replenisher. -- --

After a long time the radio came suddenly to life-NAA, Washington, Traub soon learned, had rigged a reflector to beam directly at them. "Can you take code groups?" he was asked.

- He assured them that he could. "Despatch for Rear Admiral Bowles," NAA rapped back at him. "Zero zero zero one: code groups follow-love, uncle, king, easy, roger-boy, able, dog, item, peter -- " The groups continued for a longtime. --