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Rockwell, Carey, [pseud.]

"Stand by for Mars!"

He reached for the railing around the
acceleration chair with his right and discovered he still held the
switch for the water sprinkler. He started to flip it on, then sniffed
the air, and smelling no trace of smoke, dropped the switch. He
unstrapped himself from the acceleration chair with his right hand and
then slowly, with great effort, pushed the section of the control board
off him. He stood up rubbing his left arm.
"Astro? Roger?!" he called again, and scrambled over the broken
equipment that was strewn over the deck. He stumbled over more rubble
that was once a precision instrument panel and climbed the ladder
leading to the radar deck.
"Roger!" he yelled. "Roger, are you all right?" He pushed several
shattered instruments out of the way and looked around the shambles that
once had been a room. He didn't see Roger.
He began to scramble through the litter on the deck, kicking aside
instruments that were nearly priceless, so delicately were they made.
Suddenly a wave of cold fear gripped him and he began tearing through
the rubble desperately. From beneath a heavy tube casing, he could see
the outstretched arm of Roger.
He squatted down, bending his legs and keeping his back straight. Then
gripping the heavy casing on one side, he tried to stand up. It was too
much for him. He lifted it three inches and then had to let go.


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