Part 2

Wade laughed heavily. "I think one drink would be in perfect order, sergeant. Where do you hide this liquid cob?"

Meyers' face became bright again. He almost tripped as he tried to salute, about-face, and run at the same time. He was going out the door when he called back over his shoulder. "In the water closet on one of the thrones in the latrine ... Sir."

* * * * *

It was Wade Boeman who ruined Allen Ackerson's exit. He had the staff car pick up the pilot as soon as the hull of the _Starfrost_ cooled. The official car had sped back over the barren sand, through the waiting throng of newsmen, straight to the small office located in the control building, without a stop. To say that it peeved Ackerson would be putting it mildly. His face was still burning with anger after twenty minutes of interrogation. Wade knew it was only the presence of the Defense Secretary keeping him in line. For that reason he tried to keep each question brief and simple. Ackerson was dying to get outside that door and receive some of the acclaim that he was being denied.

"You say you had a chance to look at the test rocket we fired?" Wade asked.

"Yes sir. It was resting in a red crater, fairly well beat up. It must have come down hard. In fact it looked like it may have struck a wobble at the last minute. Of course the terrain is pretty rough up there and it could have toppled after it hit. I'm sure the camera shots I took will tell us much more."

Wade felt a sudden twitch in his shoulder. "You said the crater was red."

"Yes, sir. A bright red. I thought it was strange. It was as if something spilled out of the ship when she hit."

Wade and the Secretary exchanged glances.

"It was a marking dye so you could pick up the location of the ship," Wade said too quickly.

Allen twisted his head as the sound of many voices pierced the quiet room. Someone cheered loudly. Allen shifted his large frame.

"How was she lying?" Wade asked.

Allen brought his attention back to the two men. It was obvious, he was becoming annoyed. "Down tail-first. The nose section looked intact. That's what makes me believe she took on a wobble at the last second. The nose should have been buried out of sight."

Another cheer forced its way into the room. Suddenly Allen burst out. "Tell me, Colonel. How's Tomer these days. You remember, that little guy who quit on you just before the training ended."

The words had the effect the big man had hoped for. Boeman came out of the chair. His face was a vivid white. "You ..." he began.

The Secretary moved quickly. He was between the two men before Wade could continue. "That's all for now Captain Ackerson," he said, "or should I say Mister Ackerson. Your papers have been processed as you wished. You're a civilian, after sixty days terminal leave, of course."

Ackerson watched the play of emotions on Wade's face. He was enjoying every second of it. Wade wanted to smash that smug face all over the floor. Yet he was powerless. Ackerson was still an officer and there was too much left undone to risk everything now. He sat back down on the chair. There would be time when the blond man was a civilian.

"Thank you, sir." Allen grinned.

The Secretary extended his hand. "Congratulations again for a job well done." They shook hands.

"Don't forget, Ackerson," Boeman said as Allen hurried to the door. "The next week is mine. Solid interrogation. You're still in the service."

"_Yes, Sir._"

"And one more thing, Ackerson. I know your communication was working. Why didn't you answer our calls?"

"I thought that would make you sweat a little. I can see that it did."

The door slammed shut.

* * * * *

Neither man spoke when the door closed behind Ackerson. The silence was long. Finally it was Boeman who moved. He opened the top left drawer of the desk and withdrew a small glass and a bottle. He poured a drink and offered it to the Secretary with a glance of his eyes. The Secretary shook his head.

Boeman lifted the tumbler to his lips and poured the liquid down with a quick motion. He made a face as it burned. He poured another, toyed with it before he tossed it down.

"Well, he made it." Boeman said finally, placing the empty glass on the desk. "To the Moon and back--non stop."

"You knew he would, didn't you."

Boeman nodded, staring at the glass.

There was another awkward silence as both men were wrapped in thought.

"Disappointed, Wade?"

"Not disappointed. Disgusted."

"He gave us what we wanted. The appropriations will be easy now."

"I know."

"Then what's wrong? Certainly you can't blame Ackerson fully. He doesn't know the entire story."

"Perhaps that's what's wrong. If I could just tell the full story I might feel better."

"Impossible. Can you imagine the entire nation carrying a load on its back the way you are now?"

Wade laughed bitterly. "It might wake them up."

"I understand, Wade. My insides feel it too. But let him be the hero."

"He will be," Wade said, reaching for the bottle again. "He will be."

"Then let him. We have more important things to think about now." The Secretary got up. Wade grasped the empty tumbler in the palm of his hand, squeezing tightly.

"Ackerson said red."

"I know," replied the Secretary.

"Red means danger. The crater should have been stained yellow."

"Perhaps there was a mix-up in containers."

"You don't believe that, Frank."

"But the radio is still operating! A steady C.W. beam is coming in. If there was any danger we would be getting code."

Wade forced a smile. "You should have been a minister. There is always hope ... is that it?"

The Secretary placed his hat carefully on his head. "I'd better get over to the lab and take a look at those movies he took."

"It must be so lonely ..." Boeman said loosely.

"Perhaps not. Tomer was a quiet man. Those kind don't seem to mind."

A sudden, loud cheer broke the near silence in the room. Wade glanced toward the window. Then he got up slowly with the action of an old man. He went to the window and looked out.

Ackerson was being carried through a path of humanity aloft on dozens of shoulders. He was waving to the hundreds of well-wishers as he was carried toward the battery of microphones waiting on the wooden platform erected for the occasion. Wade couldn't help but think of a hero of another age. Lindbergh. It must have been the same then. And who remembered those that followed him? Or those that paved the way so he could make it? Wade shook his head.

He turned away from the window quickly, heading for the desk and the bottle. The Secretary followed him with his eyes, undecided.

Boeman lifted the bottle high above his head in a toasting gesture. "To the hero."

"Don't, Wade."

The bottle paused there while the eyes of the two men met. Finally the bottle returned to the desk as Wade surrendered. Then he slumped down in the chair.

The Secretary placed his hand on Wade's shoulder. Boeman shook it off, and he was sorry instantly. "O.K. Frank. You win. Ackerson wins."

"Good," the Secretary said softly. "That's the way we want it. We have to prevent everyone from feeling the way you do now. It isn't that you're jealous of Ackerson getting the glory. And you know that Tomer doesn't mind. It's your worrying about him that's clouding your mind. Everyone would be feeling the same way."

The Secretary looked out the window. "We couldn't have that. It would have set space travel back years. Ackerson is powerful evidence that space flight is safe. Tomer is our insurance. We need that just as badly. We had no choice. We had to stake a claim on the Moon."

Wade poured another drink. "And that conceited ass is getting all the credit while Tomer is sweating it out up there on that cold chunk of rock--while everyone thinks he quit the project because he got cold feet."

"True." The Secretary shook his head. "But Tomer is our ace-in-the-hole if the iron curtain announces their intentions to land up there.

"Tomer can be contacted. He can set off the signal for the world to see. In the meantime we will be working to make the next flight a complete one. It won't take long. Tomer will manage."

"But Ackerson said the crater was red!"

"I know. And I'm wasting time talking with you. I should be looking at those movies he took."

Wade didn't watch the Secretary leave. He picked up the bottle and glass and went to the window.

Down on the ramp the P.A. began to crackle. Ackerson was beginning his speech.

Wade took out the letter that Ackerson had sent to him. He took out a match and touched the flame to it. It was better that way. He was finished with Ackerson. He had a job to do now, one that would consume him. He had to get the _Starfrost II_ underway. He had to get there to get Tomer.

Suddenly he understood. There were all kinds of heroes. Men like Ackerson were driven by the lure of fame and money. Tomer became one because the job had to be done and there was no one else to do it. Lowe was one, in a way, fighting for peace against a world that was always in unrest. In a way Wade himself might fall in one category. The thought made him smile.

The Secretary was right, of course. The public would crucify them if they knew Tomer had been in the supposedly unmanned test rocket fired at the Moon with no way home.

Wade lifted his drink high in the air as Ackerson's deep voice carried into the room from the ramp below. "To a hero," he said. "A lonely hero." Wade's eyes were on the sky when he said it, on a spot where the Moon would be some hours later.