GRIM GREEN WORLD
by JOHN STARR
Why had five spaceships, each tested again
and again right down to its tiniest rivet,
started for the Moon and ended up in Hell?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories November 1951.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
I lit the last cigarette I would ever smoke and took my airsuit outof the compartment under the control-board. The two-man cubicle wascoffin-cold even under the blast of sunlight pouring through theforward port, and the air smelled of stale tobacco and machine oil.Beside me Charlie Kosta's voice droned into the communicator, wingingback two-hundred thirty thousand miles to the listening millions ofEarth.
"Our air is nearly gone," Charlie said. "We have about twelve minutesleft for deceleration, but we'll never make landing. The Luna V isriddled like a sieve, spewing out heavy-water fuel along with herair ... it's a miracle that a chunk hasn't crashed through our fuelpile or the communicator—or through us. That's what blew up the firstfour ships, we know now ... if men ever reach the moon they'll firsthave to develop some sort of armor that will turn this barrage ofmeteoric dust."
I got my feet into the plastoid suit and pulled it on, lettingthe transparent headpiece dangle over one shoulder like a parkahood. Charlie watched me with his tight grin, waiting through thethree-second lag of time for Earth's answer. Some high-ranking generaldown there had pushed aside the Moon Foundation scientists to makehimself heard; his voice came over the hiss of static with a tinny,frantic ring.
"Meteoric dust couldn't possibly pierce that alloy hull! It was testedover and over—"
We waited him out, knowing that his frenzy was not for us nor for thesuccess of space flight. He was concerned, like all the military,only with the establishing of a moon base to overlook Earth, anall-commanding launching site that would control a world. Once thatbase was established, the ferment of war would come to a bitter end;one nation would own the planet.
"But you didn't test the hull out here," Charlie said patiently whenthe general had finished. "You can't imagine the speed of theseparticles. We've no protecting atmosphere to vaporize them, as Earthhas, and they streak through the ship so fast that they seem to strikeboth sides of the hull at once.... I'm cutting you over to LeonardNugent now. Ready, Len?"
It was what I was waiting for. I had looked forward to this momentevery day of the nine years I had spent being groomed for the flight,and for half a lifetime of drilling before that. The waiting was almostover.
"I'm ready," I said, and took the microphone. "But there's not muchpoint in reporting further, is there? With her fuel leaks the Luna Vwill go like an A-bomb the instant we try to use the landing jets,just as the first four Lunas did ... the air is getting thinner, sothin that I'll have to put on my pressure suit soon. Are there anyquestions?"
My only answer was the grind and roar of static.
I could guess why; they were bickering and quarrelling among themselvesdown there, the military men snarling at the scientists and thescientists snarling back, each blaming the other for this new failure.The loss of the first four ships had been a mystery until they sent theLuna V out with co-pilots, equipped for full two-way communication.Charlie and I had reported from the beginning of the flight inalternate thirty-minute relays, keeping the Foundation posted so thatif anything threatened us they would know the nature of the danger. Nowthey were getting what they had as