ahead?'
'Not bad. A little lift from the controls, so I think we are at the edge of the atmosphere.'
'Doesn't look too darn hospitable,' Chuck mused, looking down at the landscape of ice-covered mountains, glaciers, snowfields and barren wastes.
'I don't know.' Jerry smiled. 'Sort of reminds me of home. So here we go!'
'If that reminds you of home, I'm beginning to see why you came south. Do you realize that the temperature down there is minus two hundred degrees?'
'Doesn't sound too bad,' Jerry muttered, all his attention on flying the plane. 'Plenty of lift now, but the motors won't catch.'
'Probably because the atmosphere consists of methane, ammonia vapor, nitrogen and inert gases – and no oxygen.'
'You took the words right out of my mouth. So dead stick it is. Full flaps, drop the landing gear, and let's have the lights.'
Down and down they swooped, hurtling toward the jagged frozen peaks below, a nightmare wilderness of fanged rocks and glaring frozen gas that sparkled in multiple colors as the strong lights penetrated the shadows.
'If I can clear that ridge,' Jerry murmured, 'it may be better on the other side.'
Fighting the controls with every particle of his strength and skill, he rode the giant 747 like a behemoth charger of the skies, firm in the saddle and strong on the reins. The great ship quivered as the nose came up, about to stall, while the black fangs of rock reached out hungrily for them. Basing the nose down ever so lightly to prevent the stall, they slid over the escarpment with only feet to spare between the ship and certain death.
'That ice field, there, off to port!' Chuck shouted jubilantly.
'That's the ball game!' Jerry chortled, and tilted the plane into a sharp turn.
Smoothly and easily they drifted down from out of the midnight sky and sped in silence over the smooth ice before dropping to a perfect eighteen-point landing. The air brakes popped up, and the wheel brakes took hold, and instants later they quivered to a halt. The first men on Titan!
'We're the first men on Titan,' Chuck said, 'and I think maybe we're going to have to stay here.'
'Don't be a wet blanket! AU we have to do is align the cheddite projector like I said, and wham-o, we're back on Earth.'
'That's right. But we were excited and we sort of forgot that the projector is unreliable in an atmosphere.'
'So what's the problem? We take off again and fire away from up on top.'
'Take off?'
'Sure. Rig a feedline from the oxygen tanks to the engines and away we go.'
'Hmmm, yes, that should work. But we have another problem.'
'Like what?'
'I've been looking out the window, and that is the third creature with tentacles, a hideous beak, and four bulging eyes that I have seen climb up on the wing.'
'Say!' Jerry spun about to see for himself. 'Do you think there is life on this moon?'
Before he could answer, a shrill scream pierced through the air, and on the instant both men were running at breakneck speed back to the cabin. Sally was standing on the back of her seat and pointing with quivering finger at the window, still screaming. They followed her finger and smiled and helped her down, still screaming, and tried to soothe her.
'There, there,' Jerry said, soothingly, 'it's just a native of this moon. All the natives have tentacles, hideous beaks, and four bulging eyes.' She screamed louder.
'It can't get in, so don't worry.' Chuck laughed, and she stopped screaming. Not because of his reassurance, but because her mask had come off while she screamed, and she was unconscious from deficient oxygenation of her blood. They put her gently back in her seat and adjusted the oxygen flow. The cabin was silent except for the scratch, scratch of the Titanians' beaks on the windows.
'Loosen my bonds,' Johann said. 'They are too tight and are cutting off my circulation.'
'You would try to escape then,' Chuck said curtly. 'So you will have to suffer just what a Red Commie spy deserves.'
'Schweinhund!'
'I have a graduate degree in German so I know what you are saying, and it doesn't bother me.' Sally had recovered consciousness and had listened to this exchange and could not bear it.
'Stop it!' she cried. 'Here we are, millions of miles from home, four lost Americans, and you carry on like that. Enough!'
'Silence, woman,' Johann said sternly. 'I am citizen of Democratic Republic of East Germany and a Soviet agent. Not American.'
'But you are,' she insisted. 'I know one half of you is East German. But the other half is American! Your father was a good American, and that makes you as good an American as any of us.'
Silence filled the great cabin, and they saw a large tear form at the comer of each of the spy's eyes and then course down his cheeks. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse with emotion.
'Of course. They lied to me. Made me their own. Never told me I was an American. Deprived me of my birthright. When all the time I was as American as apple pie!'
'Right!' Chuck said, tearing the binding wires free from John's body. 'You're one of us.'
'I can get a passport, pay income tax, vote in the Presidential election, go to baseball games and eat hot dogs!' 'Darn right!' Jerry shouted as he pumped John's hand. Then Chuck shook his hand, and John turned to kiss Sally but realized maybe he was an American but not that American, so he shook her hand as well.
'It's great to be part of the team again.' John grinned and knuckled the tears from his cheeks. 'What can I do to help?'
'We have a little problem,' Jerry explained. 'We have to take off so the cheddite projector will be able to work, but there is no oxygen in the atmosphere here. So we have to rig a supply of oxygen from the tanks here to the engines. . . .'
'I'm afraid that's out,' Chuck said after mumbling some quick equations to himself. 'I've worked out the amount of oxygen the engines need and how much we have in the tanks and I figure we have just enough to move us one hundred and ten feet. Allowing no time for engine warm-up.'
'Then that's out.' Chuck grimaced, striking his fist into his open palm. 'So we'll just have to find another way.'
'That seems sort of obvious.' John smiled. 'Being an American has really stirred up my old brain box, and I'm thinking in a realistic capitalistic way, instead of slavishly socialistic, and believe me, it works wonders! The answer is right outside that window.'
They all looked and Sally started screaming again at the sight of the beaks, eyes and tentacles. John went on.
'While I was sitting there, I had plenty of time to look at those critturs and think about them. What attracted them to this plane? Not just curiosity, they don't seem that type, but something. Not heat, our temperature would be like a blowtorch to them. And I noticed that they are most thick out there around the air compressors.'
'Oxygen!' Jerry said, snapping his fingers. 'Of course. As it leaks out, they suck it up. They like oxygen. Which proves that this planet once had an Earthlike atmosphere, and these creatures are nothing but degenerate descendants of the former inhabitants. They must have a source of oxygen. All we have to do is find it and we can take off. We're going out there.'
'The Titanians will attack us for the oxygen in our blood,' Chuck said, realistically.
'Then we'll fight,' John said, jaw set firmly. 'And they'll know they've been in a fracas.'
Preparations were quickly made. They sawed through the floor to gain access to the forward cargo hold, where the team's luggage was stored. Since the temperature outside was 200 degrees below zero, they had to bundle up warmly. Each of them put on layer after layer of football clothes and pads and helmets to protect their heads, slinging portable oxygen tanks at their waists. Sally was busy too, using needle and thread that she found in her purse to make them all gloves from the cheerleaders' uniforms.
Chuck wore his own uniform with his big number one blazoned front and back. They found number two for
