 How long would it take for the needed replacements to be delivered to Freedom 19?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1962. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] General Finogenov notified Major Winship that the underground blast was scheduled for the following morning. Major Winship, after receiving the message, discussed precautions with the three other Americans. Next morning, before the sunlight exploded, the four of them donned their space suits and went and sat outside the dome, waiting. Black pools of shadows lay in harsh contrast, their edges drawn with geometric precision. Major Winship attempted unsuccessfully to communicate with Base Gagarin. "Help?" " Nyet ," said Major Winship, exhausting his Russian. "Count down. "When?" "Boom—boom!" said Pinov. "They've got Pinov on emergency watch this morning," he explained to the other Americans. "He's done it deliberately," said Capt. Wilkins, the eldest of the four Americans. One by one they clicked on their cooling systems. "Ah, it's all Russian. In the airless void of the moon, the blast itself would be silent. A moth's wing of dust would, perhaps, rise and settle beyond the horizon: no more. "I'll try again," Major Winship said and switched to the emergency channel. "Base Gagarin? Base Gagarin?" "Pinov's still there," Major Winship said. "I'll see them all in hell, first," Major Winship said. Five minutes later, the perspiration was rivers across his face. "Hell, Charlie, I feel stupid sitting out here," Capt. Lawler said. He crossed with the floating moon-motion to the airlock and entered, closing the door behind him. The darkness slowly filled with air, and the temperature inside the suit declined steadily. At the proper moment of pressure, the inner lock slid open and Major Winship stepped into the illuminated central area. His foot was lifted for the second step when the floor beneath him rose and fell gently, pitching him forward, off balance. For a minute or two, static blanked out the communications completely. It then abated to something in excess of normal. "Well," Lt. Chandler commented, "even though we didn't build this thing to withstand a moonquake, it seems to have stood up all right." Air currents whisked it away and plastered it against a riveted seam of the dome. It pulsed as though it were breathing and then it ruptured.
 ten days
 three hours  90 seconds  ten days  three weeks