Stories do not end unhappily—that thought kept cluttering1 his brain—a muddy optimism blanking out vital things that might be done.
"What's the altitude Jones?"
"520 now. Leveling a bit."
"Enough?" It was a stupid question and Kevin knew it. Jones shook his head.
"We might be lucky," he said. "We'll hit it about 97 miles up. The top isn't a smooth surface, it billows and dips. But," he added, almost a whisper, "we'll penetrate2 to about 80 miles before...."
"How much time?" Kevin asked sharply. A tiny chain of hope linked feebly.
"About 22 minutes."
"Bert, order all hands into space suits—emergency!"
While the order was being carried out, Kevin summoned the tugmen.
"How many loaded pistols do we have?"
"Six," the chief answered.
"All right. Get this quick. Anchor yourselves inside the hub. Aim those pistols at the Earth and fire until they're exhausted3."
The chief stared incredulously.
"I know it's crazy," Kevin snapped. "It's not enough, but if it alters our orbit 50 feet, it'll help." The tugmen ran out. Bert, Kevin and Jones scrambled4 into space suits. Morrow called for reports.
"All hands," he intoned steadily5, "open all ports. Repeat. Open all ports. Do not question. Follow directions closely."
"Now!" Kevin shouted, "grab every loose object within reach. Throw it at the Earth. Desks, books, tools, anything. Throw them down with every ounce of strength you've got!"
It was insane. Everything was insane. It couldn't possibly be enough.... But space around the hurtling station blossomed with every conceivable flying object that man has ever taken with him to a lonely outpost. A pair of shoes went tumbling into darkness, and behind it the plastic framed photograph of someone's wife and children.
It was not a matter of jettisoning10 weight. Every action has an equal reaction, and the force each man gave to a thrown object was as effective in its diminuitive way as the exhaust from a rocket.
"Read it!" Morrow shouted. "Read it!"
"265 miles," Jones cried. "I need more readings to tell if it helped."
There was no sound in the radio circuit, save that of 90 men breathing, waiting to hear 90 death sentences. Jones' heavily-gloved hands moved the pencil clumsily over the graph paper. He drew a tangent to a new curve.
"It helped," he said tonelessly, "We'll go in at 100 miles, penetrate to 90...."
"Not enough," Kevin said. "Close all ports. Repeat. Close all ports!"
An unheard sigh breathed through the mammoth11, complex doughnut as automatic machinery12 gave new breath to airless spaces.
It might never be needed again to sustain human life.
"Two three oh miles," Jones said.
"Air control," Kevin barked into the mike, "how much pressure can you get in 15 minutes?"
"Air control, aye," came the answer, and a pause while the chief calculated. "About 50 pounds with everything on the line."
"Get it on! And hang on to your hats," Kevin yelled.
The station dropped another 30 miles, slanting14 in sharply toward the planet's envelope of gas that could sustain life—or take it away. Morrow turned to Anderson.
"Bert. There are four tubes leading into the hub. Get men and open the outer airlocks. Then standby the four inner locks. When I give the signal, open those locks, fast. You may have to pull to help the machinery—you'll be fighting three times normal air pressure."
Bert ran out. Nothing now but to wait. Five minutes passed. Ten.
"We're at 135 miles," Jones said. Far below the Earth wheeled by, its apparent motion exaggerated as the space station swooped15 lower.
"120 miles."
Kevin's throat was parched16, his lips dry. Increasing air pressure squeezed the space suits tighter around his flesh. A horror of claustrophobia gripped him and he knew every man was suffering the same torture.
"110 miles."
Then a new force gripped them, at first the touch of a caressing18 finger tip dragging back, ever so slightly. Kevin staggered as inertia19 tugged20 him forward.
"We're in the air!" he shouted. "Bert. Standby the airlocks!"
"Airlocks ready!"
The finger was a hand, now, a huge hand of tenuous21 gases, pressing, pressing, but the station still ripped through its death medium at a staggering 20,000 miles an hour.
The dial said 100° F. While he watched it moved to 105, quickly to 110°.
点击收听单词发音
1 cluttering | |
v.杂物,零乱的东西零乱vt.( clutter的现在分词 );乱糟糟地堆满,把…弄得很乱;(以…) 塞满… | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 penetrate | |
v.透(渗)入;刺入,刺穿;洞察,了解 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 exhausted | |
adj.极其疲惫的,精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 scrambled | |
v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 );攀登;争夺;(军事飞机)紧急起飞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 steadily | |
adv.稳定地;不变地;持续地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 whoosh | |
v.飞快地移动,呼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 obedience | |
n.服从,顺从 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 radar | |
n.雷达,无线电探测器 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 jettisoning | |
v.抛弃,丢弃( jettison的现在分词 );投下 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 mammoth | |
n.长毛象;adj.长毛象似的,巨大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 machinery | |
n.(总称)机械,机器;机构 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 frantic | |
adj.狂乱的,错乱的,激昂的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 slanting | |
倾斜的,歪斜的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 swooped | |
俯冲,猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 parched | |
adj.焦干的;极渴的;v.(使)焦干 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 unaware | |
a.不知道的,未意识到的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 caressing | |
爱抚的,表现爱情的,亲切的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 inertia | |
adj.惰性,惯性,懒惰,迟钝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 tugged | |
v.用力拉,使劲拉,猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 tenuous | |
adj.细薄的,稀薄的,空洞的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |