ether. They were underneath the Platform, and
Joe expected to be blown to bits any second.

11

Joe sat on the porch of Major Holt's quarters in the area next to the
Shed. It was about eight-thirty, and dark, but there was a moon. And Joe
had come to realize that his personal disappointment was only his
personal disappointment, and that he hadn't any right to make a nuisance
of himself about it. Therefore he didn't talk about the thing nearest in
his mind, but something else that was next nearest or farther away
still. Yet, with the Shed filling up a full quarter of the sky, and a
gibbous moon new-risen from the horizon, it was not natural for a young
man like Joe to speak purely of earthly things.

"It'll come," he said yearningly, staring at the moon. "If the Platform
gets up day after tomorrow, it's going to take time to ferry up the
equipment it ought to have. But still, somebody ought to land on the
moon before too long."

He added absorbedly: "Once the Platform is fully equipped, it won't take
many rocket pay loads to refill a ship's tanks at the Platform, before
it can head on out."

Mathematically, a rocket ship that could leave the Platform with full
fuel tanks should have fuel to reach the moon and land on it, and take
off again and return to the Platform. The mathematical fact had a
peculiar nagging flavor. When a dream is subjected to statistical
analysis and the report is in its favor, a dreamer's satisfaction is
always diluted by a subconscious feeling that the report is only part of
the dream. Everybody worries a little when a cherished dream shows a
likelihood of coming true. Some people take firm steps to stop things
right there, so a romantic daydream won't be spoiled by transmutation
into prosaic fact. But Joe said doggedly: "Twenty ferry trips to pile up
fuel, and the twenty-first ship should be able to refuel and go on out.
And then somebody will step out on the moon!"

He was disappointed now. He wouldn't be the one to do it. But somebody
would.

"You might try for the ferry service," said Sally uneasily.

"I will," said Joe grimly, "but I won't be hoping too much. After all,
there are astronomers and physics sharks and such things, who'll be glad
to learn to run rockets in order to practice their specialties out of
atmosphere."

Sally said mournfully: "I can't seem to say anything to make you feel
better!"

"But you do," said Joe. He added grandiloquently, "But for your
unfla