Part 1

YOUNG STOWAWAYS IN SPACE

By RICHARD M. ELAM Author of Young Readers Science Fiction Stories, etc.

ILLUSTRATED BY GERALD MC CANN

_LANTERN PRESS, INC., PUBLISHERS_ 257 PARK AVENUE SOUTH NEW YORK 10, N. Y.

Copyright © 1960 by Lantern Press, Inc.

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOG CARD NUMBER: 60-13785

PUBLISHED SIMULTANEOUSLY IN CANADA BY GEORGE J. MC LEOD, LTD., TORONTO

MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

CONTENTS

1. Space Ship _Orion_ 9 2. Blast-off 16 3. Stowaways in Space 25 4. Adrift in the Deeps 36 5. A “Flying Tin Can” 47 6. A _Carefree_ World 56 7. A Shock in the Night 65 8. Garry Has a Scare 75 9. Satellite Zone 85 10. The Lady Goes Wild 94 11. A Friend Is Lost 107 12. A Startling Discovery 116 13. Abandon Ship! 124 14. First Hours on Luna 133 15. A Dark Outlook 142 16. A Sad Parting 150 17. Dark Peril 160 18. Strange Discovery 169 19. A New Life 181

YOUNG STOWAWAYS IN SPACE

1. SPACE SHIP _ORION_

The orphanage dormitory was locked in the stillness of slumber. Light from the full moon filtered through the large window which ran the entire length of the boys sleeping quarters.

Twenty cots filled the dormitory, and all but one held its sleeper. Dark-haired Garry Coleman was standing beside his cot, quietly dressing. Every now and then he would cast an anxious glance toward the darkened door at the end of the dormitory. Above all, he must not disturb the charge-of-quarters, or all would be lost.

As he sat on the edge of the cot to put on his shoes, Garry heard a squeak from one of the cots. He stiffened, his heart thumping fearfully.

Then Garry breathed easily. He saw that it was only Patch, who occupied the bunk next to his.

“Hey, Garry, where are you going?” Patch asked interestedly.

Patch was short and towheaded. He was Garry’s best friend, and so Garry did not mind telling him.

“I’m going to the spaceport and watch the _Orion_ blast off for the Von Braun Space Station. Want to go?”

“Sure thing!” Patch said.

“You’ll have to take the same chance that I do,” Garry reminded him.

“That’s okay by me.” Patch grinned. “If we do get caught, we’ll just be restricted to the grounds for two weeks. That won’t keep us out of the science lab where we spend a lot of time anyhow.”

It was a warm April night. The sky was thick with stars as bright as diamond dust.

“I’d give anything to be out there in the deeps among the planets,” Garry said, as they hurried across the newly sprouting lawn of the orphanage a few minutes later. “The life of a spaceman must be the most exciting thing in the world.”

“Yeah,” Patch agreed. “But I guess we’ll never make it, Garry, at least not for many years. And they say you sure have to know science and navigation. That takes a lot of study.”

“I wouldn’t care what it takes,” Garry said. “I’d be willing to study for as long as it would take, because the reward would be worth the effort.”

Their rapid steps took them onto one of the main streets of the city where moving sidewalks, called “Ped-A-Rides,” were operating. The sidewalk was a continuous belt, about six feet wide, and there were benches located at intervals upon it where the pedestrians could sit. A railing was on both sides of the Ped-A-Ride, but at intervals of about half a block there were gates where pedestrians could enter.

Patch and Garry went to the nearest gate, and Garry pulled the lever which slowed the sidewalk down so that they could board it. When Garry had deposited their fare in the meter, a bar slid away so that they could enter. It was about 2230 o’clock, an hour and a half before midnight, and not many people were on the Ped-A-Ride.

The boys took seats, and the sidewalk carried them along into the night.

As the Ped-A-Ride topped the crest of a hill, Garry pointed into the distance.

“There she is, Patch—the _Orion_, smoking and straining like a race horse, just as if she can’t wait to get going!”

“She sure is a beauty,” Patch agreed. “The earth-bound ships are a whole lot trimmer and better looking than the ships that never touch down.”

“The earth-bound ships have to be streamlined so that they can slide smoothly through the earth’s atmosphere,” Garry said, “but the ships that remain in space look like a bunch of globes and girders, because they never meet the friction of any planet’s atmosphere and they don’t need the sturdiness and rocket power.”

Patch laughed. “You sound like one of our schoolbooks, Garry,” he said.

As the Ped-A-Ride neared the spaceport, the brilliant lights of the busy area merged into a hazy glare that brightened the night until it was almost as light as day. The slim prow of the _Orion_ reached higher into the sky than any other object on the vast field, even loftier than the giant control tower.

“They say the _Orion_ is more space scarred than any other ship in the Space Service,” Garry remarked. “Meteor dust has grooved her sides so much that they look like the scratches on a rifle bullet.”

“I knew she was one of the oldest crafts in the Service,” Patch said. “I guess she’s carried many a person to the Von Braun Station on their way to Luna and the other planets.”

The Ped-A-Ride had nearly reached the gate of the spaceport when Garry said to his friend, “Patch, we’d better move down among those people ahead of us. It looks like they’re going to get off at the port.”

“Why?”

“If one of the port police spots us, he might get suspicious seeing a couple of kids alone at this time of night. If we mingle with the crowd, the police may think we are with them.”

They got up and began walking forward along the moving platform. Then they took seats behind a man who wore the uniform of the Space Service. He had several bags, and it seemed likely that he was going to board the _Orion_.

As the Ped-A-Ride neared the port gate, Garry closely studied the stalwart young man seated before them. Garry wondered at the many experiences that must have been encountered by this spaceman during his career.

Garry leaned over and touched the spaceman on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, Sir,” he said. “Are you boarding the _Orion_?”

Garry saw a pleasant but deeply lined face turned upward toward his own.

“Yes,” the astronaut replied, then asked, “Are you?”

“Er, no, Sir,” Garry replied. “We—my friend and I—we just want to see her blast off.”

The spaceman smiled. “Guess you are pretty interested in space to be coming all the way to the port just to see an old crate like the _Orion_ blast off.”

“Yes, we are, Sir,” Garry replied. “I’m very interested in it. I hope to be a spaceman someday.”

“I think you will be, too,” the man said confidently. “I can see the enthusiasm in your eyes.”

“Thanks,” Garry returned. “Have you made many trips spaceward?”

“A dozen or so,” was the reply. “The number is not important, though, you must understand. Usually, one voyage can last quite a while.”

The spaceman extended a big, sunburned hand to Garry. “I’m First Space Officer Mulroy. What’s your name?”

“Garry, Sir. Garry Coleman. My friend here is Patrick Foster, but he’s called Patch for short.”

As the Ped-A-Ride neared the gate of the spaceport, Garry had an idea by which he and Patch might get inside without being questioned by the port police.

“Mr. Mulroy,” Garry said, “I notice that you have some baggage. I wonder if Patch and I could help you carry it—maybe aboard the _Orion_.”

The officer smiled. “You want to see what she looks like, eh? Okay, it’s a deal.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Garry said.

Presently Officer Mulroy stood up. “Here we are, fellows,” he said. “Let’s get our things together quickly. I can’t afford to miss my blast-off on the _Orion_. I have a sailing date for Mars in a few weeks, and the stars wait for no man!”

2. BLAST-OFF

Once inside the gate, Mr. Mulroy spoke to a uniformed officer, who saluted. The officer turned a tiny dial on a lapel button he wore and spoke into it. Garry knew this to be a subminiature radio transmitter which was in wide use.

Presently, a square little “T-Car,” or tote car, drove up. It was painted green and white, streamlined, and had seats inside. It had a convertible top which was opened now because of the pleasant weather.

The baggageman put the spaceman’s things in the compartment, then invited his passengers to enter at the door he held open. Garry and Patch felt very important as Officer Mulroy motioned them in ahead of himself. They felt even more important as they sank down into the soft seats and were joined a moment later by this high-ranking officer of the Space Service.

The swift little car whisked them off to the Operations Building, to which Officer Mulroy had to report before his flight.

When the baggage had been unloaded outside and the T-Car had moved off, the spaceman said to the boys, “Wait out here, until I sign up and get my instructions. Then we’ll carry my things aboard the _Orion_.”

While they waited, they turned their attention to the space craft some distance away. Its blue, satiny sides reflected the glow of thousands of lights on the field. Red smoke still curled up into the night, warning of the approach of blast-off time. And yet there was still a little while to go, for the spiderwebs of the gantry cranes still hugged the sides of the three-stage space vessel. Workmen were swarming all over the platforms, making last-minute checks on the ship.

There was a high wire fence around the _Orion_ and only one entrance through it. A uniformed official was checking tickets as the passengers went through the gate. The official checked Officer Mulroy’s ticket, and Mr. Mulroy told him it would be all right for the boys to help him carry his baggage aboard.

The boys’ new friend took them down some steps into a concrete tunnel that led to the launching pad. On the way they stopped at a little room where Mr. Mulroy was weighed.

“Weight is a very important factor on a space ship,” Mr. Mulroy said, as they were on their way again.

The tunnel led to an elevator that ran up the side of the rocket. The elevator cab rose and rose, high into the black night. Finally, Officer Mulroy pressed a button and said this was where they were to get off.

Garry and Patch followed their friend out into a corridor of the space ship. Officer Mulroy searched the doors they passed, then recognized his own, Stateroom 17. He drew out a key and unlocked the door, then preceded the boys into the room.

“Gee, what a tiny room!” Patch exclaimed.

“It has to be this small,” Mr. Mulroy said. “Every inch of area on a space ship is at a premium, you know. For most travelers, the Von Braun Space Station is only a stopover on a longer trip into space. Sometimes the layover is for several days or even a week or two. Since rooms aboard the space station are very limited, most of the passengers are quartered in staterooms in the rocket in which they left earth.”

Suddenly, a voice came over a speaker in the room: “Blast-off in ten minutes. All nonpassengers are requested to leave the ship.”

“That’s us,” Garry said unhappily.

How he envied Officer Mulroy on his coming trip into the deeps of space! He wanted to go so badly that his heart ached. But he realized that not for many years could his fondest dream come true.

Officer Mulroy noticed Garry’s reluctance to leave, and placed a friendly arm around his shoulder. “Don’t take it so hard, Garry,” he said. “Be the very best student you can. The years will go by fast, and then one day you will wake up to find that you are eligible to be a spaceman.”

“Thanks,” Garry said, trying to smile convincingly, although he did not feel happy. The idea of the future did not interest him now, but only the present, because the queen of the spaceways was about to blast off, and he wanted so desperately to remain aboard her.

“Let’s go, Garry,” Patch said. “We don’t want to get Officer Mulroy into trouble by us being caught aboard at blast-off.”

“That’s right,” Officer Mulroy said with a smile. “Being a stowaway on a rocket is really a serious matter. You see, for every pound of pay load on a rocket, there must be many more pounds of fuel, so if an extra person remained aboard, the ship might not be able to reach its destination.”

“Thank you for letting us come aboard with you, Mr. Mulroy,” Garry said. “And I’ll remember what you told me.”

The space officer insisted on tipping the boys, and it was a generous tip at that. As the two left the room he called to them, “Good-by, fellows. I’ll send you a post card from Mars. That’s a promise.”

Garry and Patch said good-by and followed the directions that Officer Mulroy had given them for leaving the ship.

Garry pressed the button of the elevator in which they had ridden earlier. As the doors parted and he and Patch went in, he said to his friend, “Gee, I hate to leave. I don’t know what’s the matter with me, Patch. Maybe I’m just tired of having to do the same thing every day, over and over.”

“I feel kind of the same way, Garry,” Patch admitted, “but I guess we’ll just have to sweat out the old grind for a few more years.”

They had no sooner started to descend than the light in the elevator went off, and then the elevator itself stopped.

“Hey, what’s going on!” Garry exclaimed.

“The power’s off!” Patch said.

Presently, the light came on again, and the boys felt a lot better.

“Whew, for a minute I was scared!” Patch said.

“Me too. Hey, we’re still not moving, though!” Garry pressed harder on the button, but the elevator refused to move.

“We’re stuck here, Garry!” Patch burst out.

Garry started banging furiously on the walls of the elevator. “We’ve just _got_ to make ourselves heard, Patch!” he cried.

The din was very loud in the cramped compartment, as both boys hammered on the wall.

No one came to their rescue, but then a voice spoke over the public-address speaker in the ceiling of the elevator: “Don’t be alarmed, folks. A short circuit in the fuel-pump relay caused us to lose electric power momentarily. But everything has been restored to normalcy. Warning: Three minutes to blast-off.”

“It _hasn’t_ been restored!” Garry burst out desperately.

The boys pounded on the metal walls until their knuckles hurt.

In a final desperate action, Garry slammed his closed fist against the stubborn power button. Instantly, he felt the elevator throb underfoot and begin to descend once more.

“Thank goodness!” Garry breathed prayerfully. “But we’ve still got to hurry in order to get off in time! No telling how long we’ve been stuck in this thing!”

When the elevator stopped, the doors slid open and the boys ran out. But they found themselves in a strange corridor.

“We’re not out of the ship yet!” Garry exclaimed. “We’ve only gone down a deck or two. The elevator must still be fouled up.”

“What’ll we do now?” Patch asked in desperation.

“Go back into the elevator and try to get to the ground. We’ll have to hurry! The elevator is part of the gantry crane, and it’ll be rolled away any moment!”

They rushed back to the closed doors of the elevator. But a sign in red lights on the door read: “DO NOT ENTER. ELEVATOR REMOVED.”

“They’ve already taken it away!” Patch said in dismay.

“We’ve got to find a place to strap down, or every bone in our bodies will be broken on the blast-off!” Garry said.

A speaker along the corridor next gave out with the dread words: “Blast-off in ninety seconds, ladies and gentlemen. Secure your seat harness and listen to the instructions of the stewards. Failure to obey directions could cost you your lives. In the first few moments of acceleration in a rocket ship, there is a crushing blow to the human body. This jolt will occur twice more as the second and third stages blast off. For that reason, it is absolutely necessary that everyone be strapped down securely to his G-couch.”

Patch grabbed his friends arm in a fierce grip. “Garry, we’re going to die! We’re going to die!” he cried.

Garry shook off Patch and desperately began throwing open doors along the corridor, looking into one room after another. “There must be some G-couches along here,” he said. “I read somewhere that space law says there must be emergency couches on all decks of a rocket ship.”

Patch tagged along after Garry, complaining. Garry could not afford to be sympathetic now. Both their lives depended on what he did within the next minute.

Then Garry found it. Printed on the door was the heartening word: “G-COUCHES.”

He flung open the door and saw a row of six S-shaped reclining seats.

Garry grabbed the arm of his quaking friend in a tight grip and told him, “Listen to me, Patch, and do what I tell you. Jump on a couch just as fast as you can and don’t waste a second getting those buckles fastened across your chest, body, and legs. Now get going!”

Garry helped him along with a shove, then dove for one of the couches close by.

As he hastily fastened his own straps in place, Garry cast worried glances at his friend, who was fumbling as best he could in his nervous state.

A speaker warned of the passing moments: “Zero minus twenty seconds, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen....”

A few seconds more, and Garry’s straps were securely fastened. He twisted his head to see how Patch was doing. Patch had almost all his straps in place, but he could not seem to get the chest buckle tightened.

“Hurry, Patch, please hurry!” Garry cried.

“I—I’m doing the best I can,” Patch said, and Garry could see the streams of sweat trickling down his round face.

Then, with a final lucky tug, Patch had it. Turning his weakly smiling face to Garry, he murmured, “Garry, I guess I just barely did....”

Garry never heard the rest of the words, for at that moment the _Orion_ shook herself like a big dog, began a slow tug upward into the black night, and then, a few seconds later, with a deafening roar tore free of her earthly bonds and flung herself into space.

3. STOWAWAYS IN SPACE

Garry had read about the rough effects of blast-off, but the real thing was even worse than he had imagined. He felt like one of those characters in movie cartoons who gets flattened to the thickness of paper when run over. His lungs felt as though they had collapsed, and he could suck in only the barest trace of breath.

But the discomfort did not last long. His body seemed to fill out like an inflated balloon, although he still felt the ache of having been nearly squashed. His stomach felt as though it had been stirred up with an egg beater, and his head swam.

But no sooner had he recovered from the first violent thrust than it came again as the rocket’s second stage began firing. Then the crushing pressure eased once more, only to return once again as the third stage, the occupied section of the _Orion_, began firing away. When this force let up, Garry knew it was the last.

The ship did not appear to be moving, but Garry knew it must be traveling many thousands of miles an hour.

Garry’s shaky hands groped for the belts of the harness that snugly fitted his body. He worked the buckles loose from his upper body and sat up on his G-couch. He did not release his legs, because he was already feeling the dizzying effects of weightlessness. He looked across at Patch on the next couch.

Patch was still lying flat, and his face was pasty white. His eyes were closed, and this alarmed Garry.

“Patch!” Garry called, repeating the name over and over.

Patch had blacked out, but after a few minutes he came back to consciousness.

“Wh—what happened?” Patch asked in a weak voice.

“We’re in space, Patch,” Garry replied. “They’ll probably think we’re stowaways and send us to jail. Maybe Officer Mulroy will get in trouble too.”

But this was the least of Patch’s worries right now. He put his hand to his head, complaining, “Gee, I feel terrible. Everything’s going around! And I had the worst nightmare all night long!”

Garry had to grin at this. “We haven’t been here all night, just a few minutes. It just seems like a long time.”

Patch fumbled loose his upper straps and struggled to a sitting position, but fell back down onto his contour seat. “Wow, I can’t make it!” he said thickly.

“There’s no use trying to get up,” Garry said. “We’re weightless and would never be able to get about. It’s funny how I wanted so terribly to go into space, but now that I’m out here I’m not enjoying it. I guess it’s because I’m afraid of what’s coming.”

Garry wondered what they should do. Should they turn themselves in and take their chances on being believed that their being aboard the _Orion_ was due to an accident? But if they did this, then Mr. Mulroy might be held responsible for not seeing that the boys had left the ship. And yet, Garry realized, he and Patch could not stay in hiding indefinitely. Sooner or later they must be found out. If they did not turn themselves in, and they were discovered, they would surely be regarded as stowaways.

Then a new fear came to Garry. What if his and Patch’s combined weight was over the ship’s allowable limit? What if their being aboard would keep them from reaching the space station and, instead, cause the earth’s gravity to pull the _Orion_ back down? In that case the two of them could possibly cost the space-ship line a new rocket worth millions, not to mention the lives of all the persons aboard in case a safe landing could not be made!

Garry was occupied with these grave thoughts until he heard the public-address system saying: “We are now in braking orbit.”

Garry knew this meant that the ship had reached the vicinity of the space station and was beginning to circle the station while the braking rockets were cut in. This procedure would slow down the _Orion_ so that she would be moving at the same orbital speed as the space station. Then it would be easy for her to slip into dock.

Garry and Patch felt the tug of the ship’s gradually diminishing speed, but this was not nearly as rough as the blast-off had been. As the _Orion_ moved into dock, the boys felt their weight returning. This was due to the station’s rotation and artificial gravity.

“Well, it looks like the ship has made it all right,” Patch said, relieved. “They must not have had a full load.”

The boys heard the technical language of the docking procedure. Garry listened closely, even though he could not understand much of it. But this was all part of the spaceman’s education, and he was eager to learn it, even at such a crucial moment as this.

Yet as he listened, he had another unpleasant thought. Now that he and Patch had the blot of “stowaway” against them, would this misconduct prevent them from realizing their dream of being future spacemen?

Finally, the ship’s motion stopped altogether. The _Orion_ had nestled into her dock on the big Von Braun Space Station, named after the great space scientist of the past century.