instruction manuals, a few clothes, and
various small, useful items. Everything was cut to minimum, to keep the
weight down. The lined up drums made a utilitarian display that looked
rather grim.

The gear was set out like this, for the safety inspectors to look at
during the next few days, and provide their stamp of approval.

The blastoff tickets had also been purchased--for June tenth.

"Well, how do you think the Bunch should travel to New Mexico, Paul?"
Frank Nelsen joshed.

"Like other Bunches, I guess," Paul Hendricks laughed. "A couple of
moving vans should do the trick..."

III

On June first, ten days before blastoff, David Lester came back to the
shop, sheepishness, pleasure and worry showing in his face.

"I cleared up matters at home, guys," he said. "And I went to
Minneapolis and obtained one of these." He held up the same kind of
space-fitness card that the others had.

"The tests are mostly passive," he explained further. "Anybody can be
whirled in a centrifuge, or take a fall. That is somewhat simpler, in
its own way, than clinging to a careening motor scooter. Though I do
admit that I was still almost rejected...! So, I'll join you, again--if
I'm permitted? I understand that my old gear has been completed, as a
spare? Paul told me. Of course I'm being crusty, in asking to have it
back, now?"

"Uh-uh, Les--I'm sure that's okay," Ramos grunted. "Right, fellas?"

The others nodded.

A subdued cheerfulness seemed to possess Lester, the mamma's boy, as if
he had eased and become less introverted. The Bunch took him back
readily enough, though with misgivings. Still, the mere fact that a
companion could return, after defeat, helped brace their uncertain
morale.

"I'll order you a blastoff ticket, Les," Frank Nelsen said. "In one of
the two GOs--ground-to-orbit rockets--reserved for us. The space is
still there..."

David Lester had won a battle. He meant to win through, completely.
Perhaps some of this determination was transmitted to the others.
Two-and-Two Baines, for example, seemed more composed.

There wasn't much work to do during those last days, after the equipment
had been inspected and approved, the initials of each man painted in red
on his blastoff drum, and all the necessary documents put in order.

Mitch Storey rode a bus to Mississippi, to say goodbye to his folks. The
Kuzaks flew to Pennsylvania for the same reason. Likewise, Gimp Hines
went by train to Illinois. R