ZERO HOUR
by
Alexander Blade
By accident Bobby discovered the rocket wasabout to be shot to the Moon. Naturally he wantedto go along. But could he smuggle himself aboard?
Dad had already gone whenBobby got up. This disappointedBobby a little butthen he remembered—this was thebig day. Naturally Dad would getover to the project early. And atfour o'clock— Bobby shivered deliciouslyat the thought of it.
He ate his breakfast in silencewith Mom across the table drinkinga cup of coffee and looking at afashion catalogue. He was glad shewas occupied because he didn't wantto talk; not today he didn't. Mightspill something secret. Might evenlet out the big secret. That wouldbe terrible.
Of course, all things were secretat Buffalo Flats. So secret topscientists like Dad didn't even discussthem with wives like Mom.And wives like Mom never asked.
So it was really something to sitthere eating breakfast knowing that,today, Dad was going to rocket tothe Moon. And with Mom not evenknowing the Lunar project was inthe works, so naturally not dreamingthat he was going with Dad!The thrill was overpowering.
Maybe they would have radiocommunication after they gotthere and he would call back andsay, Hello, Mom! Guess where Iam? On the moon with Dad! AndMom would say, Why, Bobby!Scaring me to death like this! Iwas looking all over for you. Soundingvery angry but not being reallyangry after all. Because maybeDad would cut in and say, Yeah,he's right here with me, dear. Whatdo you think of this boy of ours?
Bobby gulped the last of hiscereal so he could go outside andwriggle for joy. As he got up fromhis chair, Mom said, "And what'syour plan for today, young man?Davy Crockett or Buck Rogers?"
Bobby had a quick thought—asudden temptation. Why not giveMom a hint? Why he could eventell her and she still wouldn't know.Then later, after he was gone, shewould remember back and say,That boy! When he tells you somethinghe really means it.
Bobby smiled and said, "I thinkI'll go to the moon today."
Mom smiled too and went backto her fashions. "Well, see to ityour fuel mixture is correct."
"I'll check it. And Mom—Imight not be home for lunch."
"Where will you be?"
"Oh, I don't know."
"Well, mind your manners andsay thank you when you leave."
Mrs. Kendall, still smiling,watched Bobby dash out into theyard. Living on a restricted governmentarea had one compensation atleast. You didn't have to worryabout your children. Four dozenfamilies, all with offspring, trappedbehind ten-foot patrolled fence.Here, nobody worried about theirchildren. They came and went andat noon a mother fed whatevernumber happened to be in the houseat the time. Mrs. Kendall usuallydrew six or seven. It would be arelief to dodge the chore for oneSaturday....
Out in the backyard, Bobbyfussed around his space rocketa little: tightening a screw here—hammeringin a nail there. Justuntil he could slip away withoutMom noticing his direction.
It wasn't a bad rocket at that,he thought. Six feet long with twoseats and a keen instrument panel.But kid stuff of course. After hefound the way in through the sewerhe hadn't paid any more attentionto his own ship.
He could see Mom through thewindow, back in her book, so he