Tight Squeeze

Dean Charles Ing
Tight Squeeze, by Dean Charles
Ing

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Title: Tight Squeeze
Author: Dean Charles Ing
Release Date: November 5, 2007 [EBook #23337]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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TIGHT SQUEEZE
BY DEAN C. ING

[Transcriber note: This etext was produced from Astounding Science
Fiction February 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any
evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
He knew the theory of repairing the gizmo all right. He had that nicely
taped. But there was the little matter of threading a wire through a
too-small hole while under zero-g, and working in a spacesuit!
MacNamara ambled across the loading ramp, savoring the dry, dusty
air that smelled unmistakable of spaceship. He half-consciously
separated the odors; the sweet, volatile scent of fuel, the sharp aroma of
lingering exhaust gases from early morning test-firing, the delicate odor
of silicon plastic which was being stowed as payload. He shielded his
eyes against the sun, watching as men struggled with the last plastic
girders to be strapped down, high above the dazzling ground of White
Sands. The slender cargo doors stood open around Valier's girth,
awaiting his own personal O.K.
This flight would be the fourth for Major Edward MacNamara; as he
neared the great, squatting shock absorbers he could feel the tension
begin to knot his stomach. He had, of course, been overwhelmed by the
opportunity to participate in Operation Doughnut. The fact that he had
been one of the best mechanical engineers in the Air Force never
occurred to him at the time. He was a pilot, and a good one, but he had
languished as C.O. of a maintenance squadron for nearly two years
before he was given another crack at glory. Now, he wasn't at all sure
he was happy with the transition. They needed master mechanics for
Operation Doughnut, but he felt they should be left on the ground when
the towering supply rockets lifted.
He stopped, leaning against scaffolding as he saw a familiar figure turn
toward him. He cupped his hands before his face.
"Hey, douse that butt! Can't you ... oh, Mac!" The commanding voice
trailed off in a chuckle. Better to clown his way through the inspection,
MacNamara thought, than to let Ruiz notice his nervousness. The
co-pilot, Ruiz, walked toward him, still smiling. "One of these days,
boy, you gonna go too far. Thought you were a real, eighteen carat

saboteur." He clapped MacNamara on the shoulder and gazed aloft.
"Good day for it. No weather, no hangover, no nothing."
"Yeah. You know, Johnny, I've been thinking about a modification for
our breathing oxy." He sniffed appreciatively.
"What's that?"
"Put a little dust in it, a few smells. That stuff we breathe is just too
sanitary!"
"I know what you mean. I sure begin to crave this filthy, germ-filled air
after a few hours out there." They both smiled at the thought, then
turned to the business at hand.
"By the way, Johnny, what're you doing out so early? Didn't expect to
see you cabbies before ten."
"I donno," the bronzed Ruiz replied. "Went to bed early, woke up at six
and couldn't drop off again. And here I am. Carl ought to be along
around nine-thirty. Thought I'd help you preflight, if you want me to."
"Sure." He wanted nothing of the sort, but had the tact not to say so.
Edward MacNamara was as familiar with the Valier as he was with the
tip of his nose. He had been on the scene when Dan Burke test-hopped
the third stage, had made improvements and re-routing jobs, and had
memorized every serial number of every bearing that went into Valier.
As Flight Engineer, he was supposed to.
With Johnny Ruiz helping a little and hindering a little, he finished his
tour of the cargo sections and grinned his approval to a muscular
loading technician. "They can button her up, sergeant. I couldn't do a
better job myself." It was a compliment of the highest order, and they
both knew it.
Riding the tiny lift down to ground level, MacNamara stopped them
every ten feet or so to circle the catwalks. He noticed Ruiz's impatience

about halfway down. "No hurry, Johnny. I don't want another Wyld on
our hands." He knew he shouldn't have said it, but it slipped out
anyway. Everyone
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