ChandlerWITH DECEPTIVE EASE the rocket drifted down down the flare of herexhaustvivid against the black sky the long downreaching streamer ofincandescent gasstirring the fine pumice dust to a coruscating flurry thenas she lost still morealtitude fusing the almost impalpable powder to aslag that glowed red redbeneath crusty thickening gray for minutes afterher passing.Auxiliary jetsflared briefly fiercely to kill her lateral drift. Again theyflared and a thirdtime. The rocket was all of ten feet above the almostfeatureless surface whensuddenly main and auxiliary jets went out like asnuffed candle. She fell—butwith an odd almost nightmarish slowness.She landed as silently as she had cometilting heavily at first thenslightly first one way and then the other as thepowerful fluid-dampedsprings not unlikethe recoil mechanism of a piece of artillery took theweight and the shock andafter the preliminary swaying and quiveringallowed her to assume an uprightposition.She stood there then gleaming in the harsh sunlight a brightovoidsuspended in to tripod that was her vaned landing gear. She shouldperhapshave looked strange alien—but she did not. She was as much partof the scheme ofthings as the plain of pumice dust as the ring craters asthe serrated ridge ofthe distant mountain range above which hungseeming almost to touch the jaggedpeaks looming huge in the blackdiamond-spangled sky the greatcloudy opal that was Earth. She was newand bright her shell plating barelyscarred by her swift screaming passagethrough the atmosphere of her mother world—but she belonged. She wasnew the first of her kind—but the dream was oldold.She was part of the dream.Inside the rocket inside the cramped living cabinthat was also the controlroom the men pulled their bulky cumbersome spacesuitson over theirthick porous plastic underwear. The biggest of them all theCaptainadjusted clips and zippers stolidly did not so much as glance out ofthenow unscreened ports on the shadowed side of the rocket. The Pilot theRadioTechnician and the Engineers tried to follow his phlegmatic example.Only theNavigator—his slight body was still almost that of a boy and hehad yet to losehis boyish enthusiasm—stood staring out at the Lunarlandscape his fingersfumbling as he stared groping vaguely and clumsilythrough the routine of theairtight fastenings making foolish mistakes thatbrought a frown to hiscommanders face.This