Read Escape Velocity: The Anthology for Free Online Page B

spacecraft.
           He saw a figure lying on its side dressed in a pressure suit with the head down. Matthews could not see a face. “There's something in there. It could be a dummy in a suit. I can't tell.”
           “ It is a man ,” said Gordonov.
           “ How do you open the hatch? I'd like to see for myself.”
           “ As you wish. Do you see the four small handles at the corners?”
           “ Yes.”
           “ Turn each one to the left until you feel a solid click. Grasp the larger handle and pull it toward you.”
           Matthews did as he was told and opened the hatch. He reached inside and grasped the arm of the suited figure, rolling it over on its back. It was like moving a stone statue. As the front of the helmet became visible, he saw the face of a man with his eyes closed as if he were asleep.
    The man's features were still recognizable, although the skin on the skull had dried and given him a mummified appearance.
           “ Oh, my God...” Matthews let the body roll back onto its face and backed out of the hatch. This isn't possible , he thought. That man was killed in a jet crash. He started down the ladder, nearly losing his grip.
           “ Carefully now,” said Gordonov.
           Matthews joined the other astronauts and stood side-by-side with them. All four stared at the spider-legged craft in awe.
           “ It's Yuri Gagarin, isn't it?” Matthews finally asked.
           “ Yes. He was supposed to test the LOK system in Earth orbit,” said Gordonov. “Everything was going flawlessly until Ground Control discovered the heat shield for the reentry capsule had been seriously damaged during liftoff. He could not return to Earth.”
           “ And he asked if he could try for the moon...” Davis whispered.
           “ That is correct. The LK does not need a heat shield to land on the moon. Ground Control said yes, so he fired the rockets on the LOK and reached lunar orbit four days later. He disengaged the LK from the LOK and made his descent. He could have fired the ascent engine, but it would have served no purpose. He kept up a running commentary for another eighteen hours until his oxygen was exhausted.”
           “ How long has he been here?” said Matthews.
           “ Since June twenty-ninth, nineteen sixty-eight.”
           “ No...”
           “ Yes,” said Gordonov. “More than a year before Neil Armstrong.”

The Zozoian
     
    Duane Byers
     
    The Zozoian waited with impatience for the next bus to heave over to the assigned stop at the curb.
           The monstrous bulk of the bus had extricated itself from the log jammed intersection at the far end of the block. While the Zozoian grew more anxious by the minute, the bus finally rounded the corner. Its snub nose parted the veil of rain; its fat wheels plowed the deep water inundating the rain slicked street. The bug eyed front windows loomed larger in the steady silver gray downpour, its engine thrumming like a motorboat on a choppy lake.
           The Zozoian had overheard the radio weatherman’s description of the torrential rain as ‘the worst storm in a decade.’ Feverish to seek dry cover as soon as possible, he elbowed his way impatiently through the press of the others waiting in line. He squeezed forward, only to run straight into a portable radio snuggled protectively under a teenager’s muscled arm. The volume-control button received the brunt of the collision, and suddenly the radio weatherman could be heard more loudly than before over the speakers of the boom box.
           The rough physical contact had aggravated the teen, and he immediately turned down the volume to where it suited him. As soon as he was satisfied, he shoved back viciously at the Zozoian. Having finished the business at hand, the teen turned his back as if the small man did not exist.
           The Zozoian