The rest of the journey is uneventful. Yet beautiful. Like when we pass through a shower of shooting stars.

I said the joruney was uneventful. How could it be anything else? We have almost no control over our direction or speed. We are in a metal can that was fired from a gun. All we can do is wait.

In a few days we will either hit the moon, or be the first men to die in space.

We discuss what we might find on the moon. Will it be inhabited? Will they be friendly? Perhaps they already sent their own missile to the Earth? It could have landed in the sea, or on some remote spot thousands of years ago, and humans wouldn't even notice.

All the time we are making notes and taking measurements. And we begin to get worried. Our measurements say our direction is slightly wrong! We're going to miss the moon!

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