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Rick watched him, anxious to see what his chief would say. He cuddled the spacemonk in his arms and stroked the silky head. "We'll have to put in plenty of overtime," Dick said finally. "I think we can make it all right, but it will put a load on the staff. What do you think, boys?" Rick joined in the chorus of yeas! If every other section could be ready, electronics would be, too.
Rick stared at it. If only ... He fought his body's tendency to fly to the top of the rocket and got a firm grip with one leg around the channel under the spacemonk, then he took the stethoscope bell and began to tap in Morse code: T-A-K-E C-O-N-T-R-O-L T-A-K-E C-O-N-T-R-O-L. In the blockhouse, Charlie Kassick was watching the display with an anxious eye.
He kept right on going until his head banged painfully on the bottom of the nose-cone radar unit. The shock of pain, unlike the throbbing from the acceleration, cleared his head and made him angrier. Carefully now, he hauled himself down again. He patted the spacemonk as he went by, an absent-minded, comradely gesture. He was intent on the drone control in the center of the floor.
The interior was gloomy, and he had switched his light off to keep it from shining in the marmoset's eyes. He still couldn't be sure why the hatchway had been open, but in all probability Frank or Dr. Bond had simply gone down the gantry without closing it, not realizing until they were down that the team responsible for installing the spacemonk was also responsible for buttoning up.
In the irregular light through the ports the tufted ears made the spacemonk look even more owl-like. "At least I got you a little reprieve by saving my own skin," Rick said aloud. "Poor little guy." The marmoset chirruped happily, glad of the human companionship. Zero minus one minute. Rick wasn't worried about the passage of time.
The marmoset was to substitute, then, for human occupants of the big rocket. His life would depend on their ability to get the winged nose section down in one piece. He stroked the tiny spacemonk gently, and got a contented series of chirps in response. Dick Earle walked in and smiled as the monkey snuggled down happily in Rick's cupped hands. "Looks as if you've made a friend, Rick. Good.
He is also a genuine spacemonk." "A what?" The elderly scientist smiled. "Spacemonk. The simian equivalent of spaceman. The Prince has been into space twice now. Fortunately, the nose section was parachuted down intact both times, so he survived. Other spacemonks have been less fortunate. He will be our surrogate for Project Pegasus." Rick stared at the little creature with increased interest.
It was comfortable, after the racking acceleration. He could have gone to sleep easily, and almost did. Then the spacemonk chirruped at him uneasily. The marmoset was feeling the odd weightlessness, too. The chirrup brought Rick back to his senses. He wasn't in some marvelous bed, he was in space!
Now only the ultimate steps remained, the final checks, the fueling, and at the very last, the placement of the tiny spacemonk in his specially designed carrier. "Let's go," Gee-Gee said. They mounted the elevator and were whisked upward to the final stage. Gee-Gee picked up his walkie-talkie from the rack. "Do you read me, Dick?" "Go ahead, Gee-Gee." "Tell Jerry to go through checkoff."
Not until he was improved enough for Scotty and Gordon to spend most of the day with him did Rick get the whole story. They brought the spacemonk. The little creature petted Rick, then snuggled down and went to sleep against his side. The landing had been cruel misfortune. The brakes were not strong enough to take the strain put on them.
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