With the end of the television broadcast, the mood altered abruptly. In a few minutes less than twenty-four hours ahead, their attempt to land on the moon would be successful, or aborted, or a disaster – they would be successful, or aborted, or a disaster – they would be alive and heroes, or alive and failures, or dead. Just as if the clock of some inner schedule had rung a change, as if the act of finishing their television show was the end of some last view of a parlor and the sounds of summer on the lawn, so they stepped back into their worries again. Not everything was proceeding
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