The Second Mack Reynolds Megapack. Mack Reynolds

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СКАЧАТЬ his voice, “Calling Kiev Spaceport. Calling Kiev Spaceport. I do not speak Russian. Lifeboat 2, Spaceship Promised Land. Emergency. Emergency. Please send me landing instructions. Uh, over and out.”

      The voice that responded was obviously foreign to the boy’s native language, heavy with accent. But it said, “Kiev Spaceport. We read you, we read you, young James Barry. You are coming in clearly. We can bring you down. The Soviet Complex has been most distressed by the terrible loss of the Promised Land and its refugees. We sorrow with you for the destruction of your parents and your comrades. However, now there is work at hand. What you must do is turn to your left. There on the board of control of your space lifeboat is a switch. It is green in color. You must drop it. Then we will be in control. Then we will bring you down. We have heard your other messages to America and to Great Britain. We will have an ambulance for your sad little sister. All will be well. Drop the switch.”

      “Calling Kiev Spaceport. Calling Kiev Spaceport.”

      Jill rolled her eyes upward in agony.

      After a time. “Calling Peking Spaceport. Calling Peking Spaceport. Emergency. Calling Peking Spaceport.”

      The voice that answered was in perfect English, and it answered immediately.

      “Peking Spaceport calling Space Lifeboat 2, of the Promised Land. We are familiar with your problem, young Mr. Barry. We are afraid there is something wrong with your receiver. If you can receive us, immediately deflect the small green lever to your left which is labeled Control Release. You are in an American K-13 space lifecraft. We have the specifications, as do all nations which participate in space. We can bring you down quite safely. A China People’s Republic ambulance is awaiting with our most competent doctors specializing in burns for your so sorry little sister.”

      There were perhaps fifteen minutes of silence, during which the boy was peering into the screen. Then he said, and there was a weary note in his voice:

      “Mayday, Mayday. I think that’s what it’s called. Calling any Earth spaceport. Emergency, emergency. Space Lifeboat 2. Spaceship Promised Land. I have to have instructions for landing. I don’t know anything about this. There is nothing that makes any sense to me in the direction books. I have to have…I have to be told about coming down to land. I don’t know how to do it. My sister… I’m afraid my sister is dying. I have to have some doctor tell me what to do…I have to be told what to do…”

      Jill said, sickly, “What’s involved? If he’s as old as he looks, he should be able to read the pamphlets.”

      Bill Wellingham looked at her emptily. “You’ve been working here this long and you don’t know the answer to that? Spacecraft are landed from the ground up, not from space down. Sure, a pilot who has studied five years or so can land a specially designed spacecraft on some obscure satellite or something. But the average spacecraft, the liners, the cargo carriers, the lifecraft and all the rest are landed from the spaceports by competent pilots who know how to do it. It isn’t just that that kid up there is in his early teens. Even if he was a gung-ho scientist with a background in space navigation, he couldn’t land a lifeboat. I’d have my work cut out doing it, and I’m a pro.”

      The boy’s voice was saying urgently, “Emergency, emergency. Calling any Earth Spaceport.”

      Bruce Camaroon wearily flicked on his screen and said, “New Denver Spaceport calling Jimmy Barry, Space Lifeboat 2. Come in, Jimmy Barry.”

      On the office space communications screen, which Dick had thrown on, they could hear the others.

      “Dundee Spaceport calling Jimmy Barry...”

      “Kiev Spaceport calling Space Lifeboat 2...”

      “Peking Spaceport responding to James Barry. Come in, James Barry...”

      There was despair on the boy’s face. “Maybe I’m too far out,” he muttered. “Nobody seems to hear me.”

      * * * *

      Later, when the new shift took over, Bruce Camaroon, Dick MaGruder, Bill Wellingham and Jill Farnsworth sat at the administration building’s canteen over coffee. Their expressions were all wan.

      There was a group of fifteen or twenty at the far end of the room gathered about the commercial TV screen. The news commentator was replaying all that had thus far developed, with comments from space pilots, space authorities, and anyone else he could think of to call upon for opinions, including representatives of the foreign spaceports. Bruce Camaroon suspected that every other news commentator on the air, anywhere on Earth, was doing the same. Two women from landing control, watching the broadcast, were openly crying.

      Will Breck came by briskly. He said over his shoulder to Bill, “We’ve got a fix on him. He’s about two days out and coming in at maximum.” He hurried on.

      Bruce said to Bill Wellingham, “What’s maximum for a K-13 lifecraft?”

      “About twenty thousand space knots.”

      Jill bit her underlip. She said, “What will happen if he doesn’t throw that switch? Will he crash?”

      Bill shook his head, bitterly. “If he hits the world, which is unlikely without us to bring him in, he’ll burn up in the atmosphere. At least that would be quick, probably less than a minute. If he misses the world, he’ll go on past and eventually be swallowed up in the sun. But their food and oxygen probably wouldn’t last that long.”

      Mark Ellington went by. He called to them, “The Russian Orbiting Space Platform is trying to raise him. If they can, they could relay landing instructions.”

      “Any luck?” Bruce said.

      “Not so far.”

      Dick MaGruder said wearily, “If they could raise him, so could we. Something’s wrong with his set.”

      Jill said, “Perhaps he misread the directions. Maybe he’ll reread them and get it to work correctly.”

      Dick shook his head. “They couldn’t be simpler. That set was designed with hysterical, injured, half-crazed victims of a space disaster in mind. The kid might be afraid —I assume he is—but he’s not hysterical and he’s obviously smart enough to have gotten this far. No, he’s read the directions all right. The set’s broken. Probably happened when the Promised Land blew.”

      Bruce said to Bill, “No possible manner of getting a rescue craft up to him before he enters the atmosphere? Willy said he was still two days out.”

      The space pilot was negative. “No. I’ve already thought of that. So probably has everybody else. But there’s no way of getting into that lifeboat in space. They’d have to decompress it and there’s no spacesuits in it. It would kill the kids. Besides, I doubt if we could get something up on such short notice.”

      Dick MaGruder said sourly, “Maybe it’s best for the two of them anyway.”

      They all stared at him.

      “What do you mean?” Jill demanded indignantly.

      Dick shrugged, his face still sour. “Look at the position they’re in. No parents. No resources. No country, even.”

      “Why, why their parents must have been Americans.” Bruce knew what Dick was getting СКАЧАТЬ