"There they are," said the chief, pointing to a screen on the upper right corner of his complex.

Doug saw a speck of light against the darkness of space, a glint of sunshine reflecting off the curved diamond surface of the Clippership. That ship was built here at Moonbase, he realized. It's returning home.

Swiftly the glimmer took shape. Doug could see the spacecraft was coming down tail-first.

"Still heading for pad three," the controller's voice said, a hint of nervous excitement in her normally laconic tone.

Doug glanced at the screen that showed pad three. A pair of empty tractors sat on it. No way a ship could land there.

"Hovering."

The spacecraft's rocket exhaust glittered bright and hot. The ship hung in emptiness, as if thinking over the whole business.

Translating."

It moved sideways in a quick series of jerky little bursts. Then it slowly descended on tongues of silent flame, blowing a fair-sized blizzard of dust and grit from the crater floor as it settled.

"Show me the map of their landing site," Doug said to the chief monitor.

"Checking the coordinates… there you are."

The geological map of the area where the spacecraft was landing came up on the chief's center screen. It was half a kilometer from the quartet of landing pads. A sinuous rille ran off to the left, like a dry stream bed. The ground looked strong enough to hold the spacecraft's weight; no problem there. A few minor craterlets scattered around the area, and the ubiquitous rocks strewn across the ground.

"They're down," came the controller's voice. "I'm splitting."

"Right," said the chief into his lip mike. "Give me a positive call when you close the tunnel airlock behind you"

"Will do."

Doug took a deep breath. Okay, he said to himself. They're down. They're here. Now the fight starts.

TOUCHDOWN

The descent was so smooth that Captain Munasinghe could not tell the precise instant when the ship's landing pads actually touched the ground. He realized that he could feel weight again; after nearly five days in zero gravity it felt almost odd.

As he slowly got up from his seat, awkward in the cumbersome spacesuit, he realized that it was odd. He felt weight, yes, but it was very slight. Almost negligible.

The moon's gravity is only one-sixth that of Earth, he reminded himself. That is why our boots are studded with weights, to keep us from jumping and stumbling when we try to walk.

"Good luck," Killifer said, still sitting in his chair. Munasinghe barely heard his words, muffled by the spacesuit helmet. He nodded at Killifer, who had a strange, tight smile on his face. Was he pleased that the troops were going out to take Moonbase? Or pleased that he didn't have to go with them? Probably both, Munasinghe thought.

Sergeants barked commands and his platoon got to their feet and lined up in the central aisle. The newswoman got up too, and stood beside Munasinghe. He glanced at her. She seemed calm enough.