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It would take about thirty-six hours to get to the New Mexico spaceport. Calculating accordingly, the Bunch hoisted their gear aboard two canvas-covered trucks parked in the driveway beside Hendricks', just before sundown of their last day in Jarviston. People had begun to gather, to see them off. Two-and-Two's folks, a solid, chunky couple, looking grave.
Police ships, naturally, had their special drive, which could lift them off without rocket aid and gave them plenty of speed, but filled up the hull with so much machinery that it was only practical for such ships. Commercial craft were satisfied with low-power drives, which meant that spaceport facilities lifted them to space and pulled them down again.
He wasn't afraid to die I believe he was honestly puzzled when he heard people talking about fear but his job was to protect some fugitives from a mob, not to die a useless hero's death. If letting in a small delegation would prevent an attack on the spaceport without loss of life and ammunition or maybe he reversed the order of importance he was obliged to try it. "Yes.
If you want to put something out in space, and not have it interfere with traffic, in what sort of orbit and at what distance will you put it?" Maril did not answer. "Obviously," said Calhoun, "you'll put it as far as possible from the landing-pattern of ships coming in to the spaceport. You'll put it on the opposite side of the planet.
Tom asked finally. "Yes, do that, Tom," Kit replied. The curly-haired cadet quickly climbed the ladder to the radar bridge and sat wearily in front of the teleceiver. "Spaceship Good Company to Ganymede spaceport," he called. "Come in, Ganymede." Seconds later, the voice of the Ganymede control operator crackled over the loud-speaker in reply. "Ganymede station to Good Company. Go ahead."
As Cadet Tom Corbett snapped orders into the intercom and his unit-mates responded by smooth co-ordinated action, the giant rocket cruiser Polaris slowly arched through Earth's atmosphere, first nosing up to lose speed and then settling tailfirst toward its destination the spaceport at Space Academy, U.S.A.
It will be a day or so before they discover what is happening to them, and not a few will die in that time, I fear; but once they have found out what is killing their people, Hradzka's days no, his hours will be numbered." "A mass of concrete bigger than this place," Tobbh the Slave repeated General Zarvas' words. "The Ancient Spaceport!" Prince Burvanny clapped him on the shoulder. "Tobbh, man!
Perhaps, he thought, he should have gone to the Spacemen's Club at the spaceport itself. On the other hand, he hadn't particularly wanted to see any of the other minor officers of his own class after the near-fiasco which had damaged the Naipor. Being a Guesser set him apart, even from other Threes. He thought for a moment of asking a policeman, but he dismissed it.
"Get a free ride to Tara!" "But how? I only got a few hundred credits and you ain't got much more. There ain't nobody going to go fifty billion miles on nothing!" Loring's eyes followed the massive figure of Major Connel on the slidewalk as it swept across the spaceport field toward the Polaris. "You just buy us a coupla seats on the next rocket to Venusport and stop asking stupid questions.
They knew exactly what they were about. Five of them plunged into the ship. Others drove off the ground-trucks. Uniformed men ran from the side of the spaceport toward the ship, yelling. One ground-car started up again, rushed to the control-building, swerved sharply as a crash into it seemed inevitable, and dumped something out on the ground. It raced back to the other cars about the cargo-ship.
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