to pick up the little newspaper that came out each day and scanned it carefully. Two freighters had come in that day, but there were no passengers. His replacement hadn’t come yet. Then he grinned at his own foolishness; if the man had arrived, Governor Braithwaite would have known about it first.
There was no news that night that he could find by using his radar set. He tossed and turned in his bed, telling himself that quarantining his rival would be an unfair trick, and that he should refuse to take advantage of it. But the fact that he had proved himself to be the best man for the job opposed that; it wasn’t fair to the rest of the crew to take second best, he kept thinking.
In the morning, going to work, he scanned the bulletins hastily. The Council was meeting, but a question about the order of procedure had taken up all the day before, and Braithwaite’s appeal hadn’t even been mentioned. His eyes looked at the shipping notes. There were no freighters due for the day, and no passengers had come on the late night ship.
At the Eros, men were still working, but there was very little left to do, and they weren’t worrying much about that. Men clustered together in little groups, touching helmets and conferring busily. Chuck couldn’t take their stares. He went up into the control room and shut the hatch behind him.
It was only half an hour later when the rich baritone of Dick Steele reached him through the air that now filled the ship. He opened the hatch.
“News, Chuck. Jeff Foldingchair was pulled down to Earth on emergency orders last night. He’s just landing back here now. We’ll know what’s up in a few minutes.”
Chuck nodded. He should have known that the Earth administrators would anticipate the Governor’s trick and make sure the replacement was here in plenty of time. He put his tools away neatly.
“I’m going home, Dick.”
“I’ll ride you back,” Dick suggested. He snapped down his helmet and went down with Chuck.
The men pulled back to let them pass. Chuck’s father was one of the few men not in sight, but he stuck his head out of the engine hatch and waved as Chuck climbed onto the tractor. Everyone was trying to look casual, as if nothing were happening, but they all knew what it meant.
Chuck paused to take a long look at the big rocket ship before he nodded for Dick to start the tractor. In the sky overhead, he could barely make out the tiny dot that was Mars. It seemed farther way than it had ever been before.
CHAPTER 3
The Wrong Birthday
Chuck’s mother met him at the door, and her face was filled with worry for him.
“You’ve got company, Charles,” his mother told him. “I sent the young man into your room. I didn’t want you to be bothered.”
Chuck tried to smile at her. He nodded and went into his room.
The young man sitting there looked more uncomfortable than Chuck. The light olive complexion and the definitely Chinese eyes of the visitor showed the reason; Chuck’s replacement was not only on the Moon, but in his own room!
The stranger stood up awkwardly and held out a hand. “I’m Lewis Wong, Mr. Svensen. I guess you know why I’m here. I—I just want you to know I think it’s a dirty trick. That’s why I came here the first thing.”
It took Chuck by surprise, and he fumbled for words, but the other went on quickly.
“I saw the figures on your tests, and you’re the man for the job. Anyhow, you had it first So I hope your Governor’s appeal goes through.”
“I thought it had been turned down,” Chuck cut in.
“No—not when I left. They hadn’t gotten to it. I’m here just in case they do turn you down. Look, Mr. Svensen, I learned how they feel about you up here—your friend Foldingchair made that clear. I… nice radar set you have there. I… oh, doggone it all, I mean, I can refuse to go, can’t I?”
Chuck turned it over, feeling as awkward as the other looked. He wondered what he would have done, had the situation been reversed. But he had to make some answer. “Suppose they picked me and I refused to go,” he began.
“Yeah.” Wong nodded, his eyes on the floor. “Yeah, I guess I wouldn’t want the position then much, either. It was just an idea. What do they call you—Chuck?”
“Except for my mother. She doesn’t like the nickname, though I guess she’s used to it. Hey, Lew, how’d you like to come out to the ship with me tomorrow? It’s about done, but I can sort of help you get the feel of things. It makes this stuff look pretty sick.”
They began to discuss Chuck’s rig then; Lew apparently knew more theory than Chuck, though he’d had less chance to practice with the super-long-range sets. This set had been one of the leading arguments in Chuck’s favor, since he’d built it out of worn or rejected parts from the .big set at the receiving station and had erected his own beamed antennas. The testing board had commented openly on the fact that it showed he could improvise— and improvising might prove important on the long journey.
“Where are you staying. Lew?” Chuck asked finally.
Lew shrugged, “I don’t know—I suppose they’ve assigned me rooms, but I came here first, as soon as I’d registered. Why?”
“That means you’ll be quartered with one of the crew. Why not stay here, instead? After supper, I can heat up the rig and we’ll try a few calls to Earth. Hey, Mom!”
Mrs. Svensen agreed readily enough, as Chuck had known she would. If she was surprised, she didn’t show it. That night Chuck slept in the same room with the man he’d been almost hating the night before. He lay awake for some time, thinking about it. It would have been so simple, if Lew had proved to be unlikable; now he couldn’t even hope for the Council to decide in his favor without worrying about the blow it would be to the other.
Yet, strangely, he felt better in a way. Having someone almost his own age to talk to had taken some of the pressure off him. He began planning the next day, until sleep finally clouded his mind.
As it turned out, though, they didn’t get to the ship. The next day the decision came from the Council.
Living on the Moon, Chuck had forgotten other things. He had learned to accept all men and all nationalities as equal, but there were still traces of racial jealousy on the mother planet. Seven nations had joined with the United States and Governor Braithwaite in asking for Chuck’s exemption from the charter rule, but China remained adamant.
The delegate from the Chinese Republic was honest about it Chuck, he admitted, was better fitted in some ways, and it was a very nice idea to have someone from the Moon on the ship. But other promising candidates had been turned down because of their age—some only a few days from that required. One of them had been of Chinese stock, though a citizen of the United States, like Lewis Wong.
Caucasians had reached the Moon first. Now it was only fair that a descendant of China be among the first to reach another planet. The delegate regretted the hardship to Chuck, of course. But he could only refuse, both in justice and in loyalty to those of his race, to have anything to do with changing the rules.
China cast her vote, and under the rules only a unanimous decision could change the charter. Chuck Svensen would not be allowed to make the trip to Mars.
“Jingoism,” Lew Wong said hotly. “I’m no more Chinese than Dick Steele is African. I’m just plain American, Chuck, like you. When the United States voted against me, why couldn’t they let it stand?”
Chuck’s father shook his head slowly. “No, Lew. No more jingoism than the idea the Moon should be represented. There’s nothing wrong with being proud of your race—and that’s all the Chinese delegate was doing. You can’t blame him. If Chuck can’t go, then he can’t—and I’m glad you’re the one to take his place.”
Chuck was glad his father had said it. The shock of hearing the verdict had left him speechless for a moment, even though he had been fairly sure of what it would be.
He grabbed Lew’s hand and shook it, without knowing quite what he was saying. He didn’t even hear his new friend’s lame excuse for leaving, and was only half-aware when Lew left. .
William Svensen stood up slowly, tamping out the ashes from his pipe. It had been almost as much of a
