and Mike and the Chief had reloaded the firing racks from inside
the ship, and now were intent upon control boards and radar. They
pressed buttons. One by one, little puffs of smoke appeared in space.
They had armed the little space missiles, setting off tiny flares which
had no function except to prove that each missile was ready for use.

By the time the two space craft floated toward India, above an area from
which war rockets had been known to rise, there were more little weapons
floating with them. One screen of missiles hurtled on before the space
tug, and another behind. Anything that came up from Earth would
instantly be attacked by dozens of midget ships bent upon suicide.

Radar probed the space formation, but enemies of the fleet and the
Platform very wisely did no more than probe. The Moonship and its
attendants went across the Pacific, still rising. Above the longitude of
Washington, the space tug left its former post and climbed, nudging the
Moonship this way and that. And from behind, the Platform came floating
splendidly.

Tiny figures in space suits extended the incredibly straight lines which
were plastic hoses filled with air. Very, very gently indeed, the great,
bulbous Platform and the squat, flat Moonship came together and touched.
They moored in contact.

And then the inert small missiles that had floated below, all the way
up, flared simultaneously. Their rockets emitted smoke. In fine
alignment, they plunged forward through emptiness, swerved with a
remarkable precision, and headed out for emptiness beyond the Platform's
orbit. Their function had been to protect the Moonship on its way out.
That function was performed. There were too many of them to recover, so
they went out toward the stars.

When their rockets burned out they vanished. But a good hour later, when
it was considered that they were as far out as they were likely to go,
they began to blow up. Specks of flame, like the tiniest of new stars,
flickered against the background of space.

But Joe and the others were in the Platform by then. They'd brought up
mail for the crew. And they were back on duty.

The Platform seemed strange with the Moonship's crew aboard. It had been
a gigantic artificial world with very few inhabitants. With twenty-five
naval ratings about, plus the four of its regular crew, plus the space
tug's complement, it seemed excessively crowded.

And it was busy. There were twenty-five new men to be guided a