Mercy Flight

Phil Mooney flicked his set on again and repeated carefully, "Calling Oneonta Spaceport. Phil Mooney Outbound Luna, Calling Oneonta Spaceport. Come in Oneonta."

Calling Phil Mooney. Calling Phil Mooney. Oneonta Spaceport Calling Phil Mooney. Come in Mooney.

He cast a quick glance back at the child, strapped carefully in the metal bunk. She was unconscious now, possibly as a result of the acceleration in leaving Luna. He'd had to reach a speed of approximately two miles per second to escape Earth's satellite, and that had called for more G's acceleration than Lillian's sick body could bear. His lips thinned back over his teeth; it would be even worse when they came in for landing and he had to brake against Earth's gravity.

He switched on the set again to give it another try. Instructions were to contact the spaceport at which you planned to land as soon as possible. There was plenty of time, of course, but the sooner the better.

He said, "Calling Oneonta Spaceport. This is Phil Mooney, Luna, Calling Oneonta. Come in Oneonta."

Calling Phil Mooney. Calling Phil Mooney. Oneonta Spaceport Calling Phil Mooney. Come in Mooney.

He said, "Here it is, Jake. This kid--her name is Lillian Marshall--is the only survivor of an explosion at that nuclear-fission laboratory they had on the dark side. Her old man and her mother were working under this Professor Deems; both of them killed."

His eyes went on scanning the story. "Evidently this Phil Mooney runs an unscheduled spaceline. Anyway, he blasted off to rush the kid to an earth hospital."

Jake took the dispatch and scowled at it. "Kerry," he growled, "see what we got on this Phil Mooney in the morgue." He rubbed the end of his nose thoughtfully. "They'll probably pick him up all right when he gets nearer."

Somebody on rewrite said, "It doesn't make any difference how far he is; they should be able to reach him even if he was halfway to Mars. Something's wrong with his set."

He decided to try one of the other spaceports. As a matter of fact, it made very little difference at which of them he landed. There'd be suitable hospital facilities within reasonable distance of any spaceport. He was three days out now, and, according to spaceways custom, had to let them know he was coming in. It wasn't like landing an airplane--they want plenty of time to prepare for a spacecraft's arrival.

He said, "Calling New Albuquerque Spaceport. Calling New Albuquerque Spaceport. Phil Mooney, Luna, Calling New Albuquerque. Please come in New Albuquerque."

Calling Phil Mooney. Calling Phil Mooney. New Albuquerque Spaceport Calling Phil Mooney. We are receiving you perfectly. Come in Mooney.

He tried once more.

"Calling New Albuquerque Spaceport. Calling New Albuquerque Spaceport. Please come in New Albuquerque. Emergency. Repeat Emergency. Please come in New Albuquerque."

Calling Phil Mooney. Calling Phil Mooney. We are receiving you perfectly, Mooney. Come in Mooney.

Kitty Kildare took up her notes and prepared to make her way back to her own tiny office.

"I've got it, Jake," she said breathlessly. Kitty was always breathless over any story carrying more pathos than a basketball score. "My column tomorrow'll have them melting. Actually, I mean."

Jake shuddered inwardly after she left.

Ed Kerry came up and drooped on the edge of the desk.

"Here's the dope on this Phil Mooney, Jake," he said. "He's about thirty. Was in the last war and saw action when we had our space-forces storming New Petrograd. Did some fighting around the satellites, too. Piloted a one seater, got a couple of medals, but never really made big news."

"Got any pix of him?"

Ed Kelly shook his head. "Like I said, he never really made the big news. Just one more of these young fellas that saw plenty of action and when the war was over was too keyed up to settle down to everyday life."

Jake picked up the thin folder and riffled through the few clippings there. "What's he doing now?" he growled.

"Evidently when the war ended he got one of these surplus freighters and converted it. Name of his company is Mooney Space Service; sounds impressive, but he's the only one in it. Probably going broke; most of those guys are--can't make the grade against the competition of Terra-Luna Spaceways and the other big boys with the scheduled flights."

The city editor scratched the end of his nose speculatively. "Maybe we ought to have Jim do up an editorial on these unscheduled spacelines. Something along the line of how heroic some of these guys are; that sort of stuff. Do up the idea that they're always ready, fair weather or foul, to make an emergency trip...."

Kerry said, "There isn't any weather, fair or foul, in space."

Jake scowled at him. "You know what I mean, wise guy. Meanwhile, get some statements from some authorities."

Ed Kerry said painfully, "What statements from what authorities?"