Moons For Sale by John Russell Fearn & Volsted Gridban

Author:John Russell Fearn & Volsted Gridban [Fearn, John Russell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 9781473209831
Publisher: Orion Publishing Group
Published: 2015-09-30T05:00:00+00:00

There was a breathless pause for Slade and the girl as they watched the slowly cruising space-freighter, then at last the signal system winked out in the void.

“Message received. Will cruise and take you off at new moon. Good luck. Saunders, commander of SO. 16.”

“We did it!” Zonia cried in delight, embracing Slade eagerly. “We’re going to escape!”

“Thanks to your vanity mirror,” he grinned. “And just how did you spot that freighter, anyway? For all the good I was on the watch we’d have missed it.”

“I woke up suddenly, saw that you had fallen asleep, so decided I’d better do some duty for you. I’d hardly taken up my position before that freighter came drifting in view. By the way,” Zonia added, “you’d better take a look at the air cylinders. They seem to be sinking mighty low to me.”

Slade turned and inspected them, then glanced outside at the position of the raging, prominence-frilled sun.

“Just about last out,” he said. “Don’t seem to be any spares, either … Nothing we can do now but draw in our belts and wait. There’s one good thing—the Martians won’t see the rescue now, there is no reflection from the sun.”

The waiting proved to be an extremely tortuous task. Both of them were suffering from faintness due to the extreme heat and lack of food, and indeed, but for the promise of rescue they would probably have given everything up at this point and prepared themselves for death. As it was they half slept, drank at intervals, and watched the sunlight creeping along the control room floor—until after what seemed ages the last prominence writhed down behind the mountain ranges and the blaze of the corona faded into nothing. Then it was merciless night, the zero of absolute space, with the day heat radiating almost instantly into the vacuum. The control room started to cool, and from outside came an occasional click and creak from the plates as they contracted under the extremes of temperature.

“Hope they hold out,” Slade muttered, as he and the girl sat together in the starlight. “If they crack under the cold we’ll be beaten in the finish.”

“Fate couldn’t be that unkind,” she answered with assurance. “We’ll get away—yes, look!” she broke off, and pointed out of the port to where a curving S of flame showed the movement of a space machine as it came down towards the lunar surface.

From that moment onwards activity completely replaced lethargy. A vacuum tunnel was projected from the tramp’s airlock to that of the shattered machine so that Slade and Zonia were able to walk unprotected and with no loss of air from their own vessel to the other. The big, bearded Commander Saunders was waiting to greet them.

“Made a good crash landing, didn’t you?” he asked, grinning through his beard. “Want us to take your bus in tow?”

“No, leave it,” Slade answered. “I’ve a good reason for not wanting it shifted. The only thing I want to take away is a lot of radio components and part of a switchboard.

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