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Updated: May 13, 2025
There were a very few highly trusted men making final inspections of the Platform's exterior. One of them was nearly on a level with Joe and Sally. Other men were already lowering themselves down on ropes that they later jerked free, but this last man on top did a very human thing. When he'd finished his check-up to the last least detail, he pulled something out of his hip pocket.
But it had the Platform's 12,000 miles per hour of orbital speed. If the bonds of gravitation could have been snapped at just the proper instant, that speed alone would have carried the Moonship all the way to its destination. But they couldn't. So the Moonship blasted to increase its orbital speed.
'I have found my heart again, said E23, under cover of the platform's tumult. 'Hunger and fear make men dazed, or I might have thought of this escape before. I was right. They come to hunt for me. Thou hast saved my head. A group of yellow-trousered Punjab policemen, headed by a hot and perspiring young Englishman, parted the crowd about the carriages.
The parson started briskly. "Let us all go," said Mrs. Henderson kindly, gathering Rachel's hand up in one of hers. "Come, dear." So off they hurried, the platform's length, the farmers and their wives looking after them with the greatest interest. "My, but ain't Mrs. Henderson glad to get a girl, though!" "Yes, she sets by her a'ready." "Sakes alive!
They shared the Platform's orbital speed, and they would circle the Earth with it forever. But when they were thrown away, their orbits were displaced a little. Each can thrown downward just now, for example, would always be between the Platform and the Earth on this side of its orbit. But on the other side of Earth it would be above the Platform.
Then McKay turned and sprang on the other, and for a minute it was a fight of tigers there on the cable platform until the battered visage of the Boche split with a scream and a crashing blow from McKay's pistol-butt drove him over the platform's splintered edge. And now, panting, bloody, dishevelled, he strained his ears, listening for a shot from the hog-back.
This morning they saw an oldish black man step off, doff his hat delightedly to two young men waiting at the platform's edge, pass them a ticket, and move across to a pair of saddled horses. The smaller of the pair stepped upon the last coach, but kept his companion's hand till the train had again started. "Good-by, Tony," cried the one left behind. "Good-by, Jake," called the other, and waved.
They're pretending their plan is that when the Platform's sabotaged not smashed, but just messed up so it can't take off the big brass will let 'em take a ferry rocket up in a hurry, an' get it in orbit, an' use it for a Platform until the big Platform can be mended an' sent up. Once they're up there, there's no use tryin' to stop the big Platform. So it can go ahead."
The crew of the Platform needed food and air and water and especially the means of self-defense. Today's take-off would be the first attempt at a rocket-lift to space. "The enemies of the Platform haven't given up," said the major formidably. "And they used spectroscopes on the Platform's rocket fumes. Apparently they've been able to duplicate our fuel." Joe nodded.
This transport plane was flying to a small town improbably called Bootstrap, carrying one of the most essential devices for the Platform's equipment. In the desert near Bootstrap there was a gigantic construction shed. Inside that shed men were building exactly the monstrous object that Joe pictured to himself.
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