The Man Who Sold the Moon by Heinlein Robert A

Author:Heinlein, Robert A. [Heinlein, Robert A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Action & Adventure, Classics, Fiction, Science Fiction, Space Opera, General, Fantasy, Anthologies
ISBN: 9780671578633
Google: bLjANAEACAAJ
Amazon: 0671578634
Goodreads: 16688
Publisher: Baen
Published: 1950-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

VI

“Mr. Harriman?”

“Yes?”

“That Mr. LeCroix is here again.”

“Tell him I can’t see him.”

“Yes, sir—uh, Mr. Harriman, he did not mention it the other day but he says he is a rocket pilot.”

“Send him around to Skyways. I don’t hire pilots.”

A man’s face crowded into the screen, displacing Harriman’s reception secretary. “Mr. Harriman—I’m Leslie LeCroix, relief pilot of the Charon.”

“I don’t care if you are the Angel Gab—Did you say Charon?”

“I said Charon. And I’ve got to talk to you.”

“Come in.”

Harriman greeted his visitor, offered him tobacco, then looked him over with interest. The Charon, shuttle rocket to the lost power satellite, had been the nearest thing to a spaceship the world had yet seen. Its pilot, lost in the same explosion that had destroyed the satellite and the Charon had been the first, in a way, of the coming breed of spacemen.

Harriman wondered how it had escaped his attention that the Charon had alternating pilots. He had known it, of course—but somehow he had forgotten to take the fact into account. He had written off the power satellite, its shuttle rocket and everything about it, ceased to think about them. He now looked at LeCroix with curiosity.

He saw a small, neat man with a thin, intelligent face, and the big, competent hands of a jockey. LeCroix returned his inspection without embarrassment. He seemed calm and utterly sure of himself.

“Well, Captain LeCroix?”

“You are building a Moon ship.”

“Who says so?”

“A Moon ship is being built. The boys all say you are behind it.”

“Yes?”

“I want to pilot it.”

“Why should you?”

“I’m the best man for it.”

Harriman paused to let out a cloud of tobacco smoke. “If you can prove that, the billet is yours.”

“It’s a deal.” LeCroix stood up. “I’ll leave my name and address outside.”

“Wait a minute. I said ‘if.’ Let’s talk. I’m going along on this trip myself; I want to know more about you before I trust my neck to you.”

They discussed Moon flight, interplanetary travel, rocketry, what they might find on the Moon. Gradually Harriman warmed up, as he found another spirit so like his own, so obsessed with the Wonderful Dream. Subconsciously he had already accepted LeCroix; the conversation began to assume that it would be a joint venture.

After a long time Harriman said, “This is fun, Les, but I’ve got to do a few chores yet today, or none of us will get to the Moon. You go on out to Peterson Field and get acquainted with Bob Coster—I’ll call him. If the pair of you can manage to get along, we’ll talk contract.” He scribbled a chit and handed it to LeCroix. “Give this to Miss Perkins as you go out and she’ll put you on the payroll.”

“That can wait.”

“Man’s got to eat.”

LeCroix accepted it but did not leave. “There’s one thing I don’t understand, Mr. Harriman.”

“Huh?

“Why are you planning on a chemically powered ship? Not that I object; I’ll herd her. But why do it the hard way? I know you had the City of Brisbane refitted for X-fuel—”

Harriman stared at him.

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