While he wanted to rest his aching muscles, the time had not yet come. He turned and began running again, retracing his steps. The return journey was a blur, 101 thinking only of reaching the ship. There was no place to acquire first aid supplies, and they would not have done much good even if he had been able. The Captain was injured too severely. His only hope now was to reach the medics at the Lunar Base…indeed, this flight was everything. The ten-pound note was gone, and Deepstar Five would be lucky to survive even this one final Jump; there would not be any way to return to make further corrections to the timeline, and 101 could not even fathom the nightmare of trying to coordinate with two past versions of himself. Charlie Bucket picked up the money. We made a change, and I repaired it. It was entirely possible that there were other changes to the timeline; perhaps buying that handful of Chadworth candy had altered the course of the future in some way, or perhaps picking up a newspaper had done it. But 101 had no control over these things, and no way to know what might have been done. All he knew was that Charlie Bucket had to find the Golden Ticket…and now, presumably, he had. Whatever happens, history is going on its merry way. It's out of my hands now.
He slid down the embankment to the ship, hurling himself up the ramp and into the cockpit. Even though he was gasping for breath, he could not conceal the excitement in his voice. "Captain, I've…" but the words died in his throat. SC-80 did not turn at the pilot's approach, and the inescapable truth became clear. He was gone. The Captain looked peaceful, all trace of pain gone from his features; his eyes, dull but still clear, were fixed on the narrow strip of blue sky visible beyond the underside of the bridge. 101 reached up and closed the Captain's eyes, bowing his head in silent bitterness: It's just me now. A part of him wanted to sit down then, to simply sit down and not go any further, but the thought did not last. He heard the Captain's voice, as clearly as if he were really speaking: You're not done yet, pilot. You have to make it…for all of us. IP-101 nodded, looking into the Captain's calm face. He spoke quietly, more to himself than anyone. "All right, Captain…you just take it easy. I'm going to get you home."
Sitting down in the pilot's seat and strapping himself in, 101 took a deep breath and initiated the start sequence. He honestly doubted that the ship's engines would fire, but then they rumbled to life. After verifying the cloak was as stable as possible, he backed Deepstar Five out of her improvised berth and headed for orbit, intending to be well clear of the atmosphere before he engaged the Drive. After losing my entire crew to set the past right, I'm not about to risk accidentally wiping London off the map, or sucking Charlie Bucket into a warp portal, or Fuhrer only knows what else. Gravity again started to fade as the atmosphere parted, Deepstar Five's flight characteristics improving immensely as drag was lost. 101 maintained his course, heading out past the Moon before again engaging power to the warp engine. Recalling the coordinates of the second Jump from the computer, he punched them into the navigation system and braced himself for what he knew was about to come. "Moment of truth," 101 said aloud, his face arranging itself into a grim smile. This was it. He pressed the button.
Lunar Orbit
Fate has a cruel way about it sometimes. IP-101 clearly remembered coming out of warp above the lunar surface, nearly colliding with the Chadworth fuel barge, and he was fully prepared to perform emergency braking maneuvers the moment the ship entered normal space. Unfortunately, while the ship was extremely accurate when it came to navigating time, it was far less so when it came to navigating space. 101 was prepared for almost anything, but there were still limits on what both he and the ship could do…the warp corridor opened, to reveal nothing but the grayish expanse of the lunar surface dead ahead. It was closer than 101 had anticipated…far closer. Even as he yanked hard on the stick and slammed his fist down on the button for the braking thrusters, he already knew he had no chance. But, for a few brief seconds at least, he was home. The voice of Traffic Control crackled across the radio, remembered like something from a dream: "Deepstar Five, you are at critical altitude! Pull up! Pull…" For a brief instant, 101 took in the outline of the Lunar Base on the lunar horizon, its familiar pattern of lights the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. And as the ship slammed into the Moon's surface, IP-101's last thought was one of supreme irony: The flight recorder will give them some idea of what happened, but they'll never truly know. They will never know that everything hung on the brink…that we destroyed the past and then rebuilt it with our bare hands. The Fuhrer…everything…ceased to be, was wiped from existence. But from the perspective of those here, nothing changed. At most, we disappeared for a couple of hours. We've discovered time travel, made one of the most incredible revelations in history. But no one will be there to tell the story.