AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Don't throw it all away on an impossible fight," the President argued.
"Sorry, Mr. President, but you're talking to a man who lost his daddy at a little sand spit called Wake Island. I'll put it to a vote, but I already know the outcome. The other guys won't cut and run any more than I will. We'll stay and fight."
The President felt proud and defeated at the same time. "What weapons do you have?" he asked wearily.
"Our arsenal consists of one used rocket launcher, which is down to its last shell, an M-14 National Match rifle, and a twenty-two-caliber target pistol. We brought them for a series of gravity experiments."
"You're outclassed, Eli," the President said miserably. "Can't you realize that?"
"No, sir. I refuse to quit on a technicality."
"What technicality?"
"The Russians are the visitors."
"So what?"
"That makes us the home team," said Steinmetz slyly. "And the home team always has the advantage."
"They've landed!" exclaimed Sergei Kornilov, smashing a fist into one hand. "Selenos 8 is on the moon!"
Below the VIP observation room, on the floor of the Soviet Mission Control Center, the engineers and space scientists burst into wild cheering and applause.
President Antonov held up a glass of champagne. "To the glory of the Soviet Union and the party."
The toast was repeated by the Kremlin officials and high-ranking military officers crowded in the room.
"To our first stepping-stone on our quest of Mars," toasted General Yasenin.
"Here, here!" replied a chorus of deep voices. "To Mars."
Antonov set his empty glass on a tray and turned to Yasenin, his face abruptly serious. "How soon before Major Leuchenko makes contact with the moon base?" he asked.
"Allowing for time to secure the spacecraft systems, make a reconnaissance of the terrain, and position his men for the assault, I would say four hours."
"How far away is the landing site?"
"Selenos 8 was programmed to touch down behind a low range of hills less than three kilometers from where Selenos 4 detected the astronauts," answered the general.
"That seems quite close," said Antonov. "If the Americans tracked our descent, Leuchenko has lost all opportunity for surprise."
"There is little doubt they have realized what we're up to."
"You're not concerned?"
"Our advantage lies in Leuchenko's experience and superior firepower, Comrade President."
Yasenin's face wore the expression of a boxing manager who had just sent his fighter into the ring against a one-armed man. "The Americans are faced with a no-win situation."
Major Grigory Leuchenko lay stretched in the fine, gray dust of the moon's surface and stared at the desolate wasteland spread beneath the pitch-black sky. He found the silent and ghostly landscape similar to the arid desert of Afghanistan's Seistan Basin. The gravel plains and rolling mound-shaped hills gave little definition. It reminded him of a great sea of plaster of paris, yet it seemed strangely familiar to him.
He fought off an urge to vomit. He and his men were all suffering from nausea. There had been no time to train for the weightless environment during the journey from earth, no weeks or months to adjust as had the cosmonauts of the Soyuz missions. They were given only a few hours' instruction on how to operate the life-support systems of their lunar suits, a brief lecture on conditions they could expect to find on the moon, and a briefing on the location of the American colony.
He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder through his lunar suit. He spoke into his helmet's internal transmitter without turning.
"What have you got?"
