Part 6 (2/2)
”Yes, Mom.”
A new voice over the radio said, ”Apollo, this is the U.S.S Nimitz. We have you in visual.”
”Roger, visual contact,” Rick said. He loosened his harness and peered out the windows, but he couldn't spot the s.h.i.+p, nor the Russian one. It was a big ocean.
The altimeter dropped steadily, swinging counter-clockwise through five thousand feet, then four, three, two...
”All right,” Rick said. ”We're going to make it.”
”Rick!” Tessa shot him an angry look. ”We're still at a thousand feet.”
Rick looked out at the ocean, now seeming close enough to touch. ”I don't care.
I've played doublethink with the supernatural the whole way to the Moon and back; well now I'm done with that. We could survive a fall from here, so unless this thing sinks right on out of sight with us in it, I say superst.i.tion be d.a.m.ned: we're home safe and sound.” He banged on the hatch for emphasis. It made a solid enough thud when he hit it, but a moment later it began to s.h.i.+mmer like a desert mirage.
”Rick, stop it!” Tessa yelled, and Yos.h.i.+ko said, ”Not yet, d.a.m.n it, not yet!”
”I take it all back!” Rick shouted, but this time the capsule continued to fade.
It supported their weight for another few seconds, but that was all. The control panel grew indistinct, the altimeter going last like the grin of the Ches.h.i.+re cat, its needle dropping toward the last few tic marks, and then the couches gave way beneath them, pitching all three astronauts out into the air.
Rick flailed his arms wildly to keep from tumbling. His right hand struck one of the s.p.a.cesuits and it bounced away from him, spinning around with arms and legs extended. The other two s.p.a.cesuits had remained solid, too, and for a moment Rick wondered why they hadn't faded along with the s.h.i.+p, but then he rememebered that he and Tessa and Yos.h.i.+ko had worn them aboard.
He twisted around, looking frantically for the only other non-ghostly items in the capsule, and he saw them just below, falling like the rocks they were: the samples he and Tessa had collected from the lunar surface.
”No!” he shouted, reaching for them as if he could s.n.a.t.c.h at least one rock out of the air, but he suddenly got a face full of water and he choked and coughed.
The sample containers had been part of the s.h.i.+p, and they had disappeared, too, splas.h.i.+ng him with their contents. He smelled ammonia, and something else he couldn't identify before the wind whipped it away.
Everything they had collected, everything they had done, had vanished in one moment of arrogant pride. They were returning to Earth with nothing more than what they had taken with them.
Except the entire world knew they had gone and knew what they'd seen; nothing could take that away.
Tessa was a few feet to the side, but she had spread her arms and legs out to slow her fall. As she swept upward, her hair streaming out behind her, Rick shouted, ”Don't hit like that!”
”Of course not,” she yelled back at him. ”I'll dive at the last minute.”
Yos.h.i.+ko was windmilling her arms to keep from going in headfirst, but she was tumbling too fast. ”Cannonball!” Rick yelled at her, but he didn't see if she tucked into the position or not. He barely had time to twist around so his own feet were pointed downward.
The ocean came up at them fast. Rick looked away, and this time he saw the s.h.i.+ps, two enormous gray aircraft carriers plowing side-by-side through the waves toward him, their decks covered with sailors. And reporters. And scientists, and bureaucrats, and who knew what else.
Rick closed his eyes and braced for the impact he knew was coming.
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