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Updated: June 21, 2025


"This reactor really packs a load of power!" "How are we doing on fuel, Sid?" Kit called into the intercom. "We lost a lot trying to prime the pumps," replied the young crew chief. "We have to touch down on Deimos and refuel." "That's all right," replied Kit with a smile. "We're gaining on Sticoon fast. We should make Deimos about the same time. I wonder where Quent Miles is by now."

It will be a long trip, and we might as well enjoy it as much as possible." Days changed into weeks as the ship plowed steadily south. They stopped at one port for a few hours to refuel, but there was little to see. The ship was slow and it felt good to walk on land again. But no one spoke enough English to answer questions.

"I'm bringing written reports and photographs and first specimens of geology from the Moon," Joe told her. "I'm a mailman. It'll probably be sixty hours back to the Platform free fall most of the way and then we'll refuel and I'll come down to Earth to deliver the reports and such." Pause. One second and a little for his voice to go. Another second and something over for her voice to return.

Each boat carries a short-wave radio and has a cruising range of from three to five thousand miles, which is extraordinary for just little fishing boats. They operate on the high seas and where they go, only the master and crew and those who send them know. The only time anyone gets a record of them is when they come in to refuel or repair.

He drew McGee to one side. "Do you remember passing over the French 'drome outside of Vitry?" he asked. "Yes, sir." "Your plane is in good order?" "Yes, sir." "Good. Yancey tells me that Siddons was forced down there. I want you to refuel, go back there and see what the trouble was. I have my own ideas." "Yes?" McGee queried.

It had been made because to break the bonds of Earth's gravity was terribly costly in fuel when a ship had to accelerate slowly to avoid harm to human cargo. The space platform was a filling station in emptiness, at which the moon-rocket would refuel for its next and longer and much less difficult journey of two hundred thirty-odd thousand miles. The stewardess came up the ramp, moving briskly.

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