Carey Rockwell - Tom Corbett Space Cadet 05 - The Revolt on Venus

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THE REVOLT ON VENUS

By CAREY ROCKWELL

No. 5 in the TOM CORBETT Space Cadet Adventure series

The Tom Corbett series:

STAND BY FOR MARS!, 1952

DANGER IN DEEP SPACE, 1953

ON THE TRAIL OF THE SPACE PIRATES, 1953

THE SPACE PIONEERS, 1953

THE REVOLT ON VENUS, 1954

TREACHERY IN OUTER SPACE, 1955

SABOTAGE IN SPACE, 1956

THE ROBOT ROCKET, 1956

WILLY LEY Technical Adviser

GROSSET & DUNLAP Publishers New York

ILLUSTRATIONS

Frontispiece

"She tried to get farther into the cave"

They were completely surrounded by the jungle

Astro kept his blaster aimed at the monsters

His eyes probed the jungle for further movement

"Mr. Sinclair!" cried Tom, suddenly relieved

The Solar Guard troops landed on the rim of the canyon

Sinclair wasn't able to get clear in time

THE REVOLT ON VENUS

CHAPTER 1

"Emergency air lock open!"

The tall, broad-shouldered officer, wearing the magnificent black-and-gold uniform of

the Solar Guard, spoke into a small microphone and waited for an acknowledgment. It came

almost immediately.

"Cadet Corbett ready for testing," a voice crackled thinly over the loud-speaker.

"Very well. Proceed."

Seated in front of the scanner screen on the control deck of the rocket cruiser Polaris,

Captain Steve Strong replaced the microphone in its slot and watched a bulky figure in a

space suit step out of the air lock and drift away from the side of the ship. Behind him, five

boys, all dressed in the vivid blue uniforms of the Space Cadet Corps, strained forward to

watch the lone figure adjust the nozzles of the jet unit on the back of his space suit.

"Come on, Tom!" said the biggest of the five boys, his voice a low, powerful rumble as

he rooted for his unit mate.

"If Tom makes this one," crowed the cadet next to him, a slender boy with a thick shock

of close-cropped blond hair, "the Polaris unit is home free!"

"This is the last test, Manning," replied one of the remaining three cadets, the insignia of

the Arcturus unit on the sleeve of his uniform. "If Corbett makes this one, you fellows

deserve to win."

Aboard the rocket cruiser Polaris, blasting through the black void of space two hundred

miles above Earth, six Space Cadets and a Solar Guard officer were conducting the final

test for unit honors for the term. All other Academy units had been eliminated in open

competition. Now, the results of the individual space orientation test would decide whether

the three cadets of the Arcturus unit or the three cadets of the Polaris unit would win final top

unit honors.

Roger Manning and Astro kept their eyes glued to the telescanner screen, watching

their unit mate, Tom Corbett, drift slowly through space toward his starting position. The

young cadet's task was basically simple; with his space helmet blacked out so that he could

not see in any direction, he was to make his way back to the ship from a point a mile away,

guided only by the audio orders from the examining officer aboard the ship. His score was

measured by the time elapsed, and the amount of corrections and orders given by the

examining officer. It was an exercise designed to test a cadet's steadiness under

emergency conditions of space.

The three members of the Arcturus unit had completed their runs and had returned to

the ship in excellent time. Roger and Astro had also taken their tests and now it depended

on Tom. If he could return to the Polaris in less than ten minutes, with no more than three

corrections, the Polaris unit would be victorious.

Seated directly in front of the scanner, Captain Steve Strong, the examining officer,

watched the space-suited figure dwindle to a mere speck on the screen. As the regular

skipper of the Polaris crew, he could not help secretly rooting for Tom, but he was

determined to be fair, even to the extent of declaring the Arcturus unit the winner, should the

decision be very close. He leaned forward to adjust the focus on the scanner, bringing the

drifting figure into a close-up view, and then lifted the microphone to his lips.

"Stand by, Corbett!" he called. "You're getting close to range."

"Very well, sir," replied Tom. "Standing by."

Behind Strong, Roger and Astro looked at each other and turned back to the screen. As

one, they crossed the fingers of both hands.

"Ready, Corbett!" called Strong. "You'll be clocked from the second you're on range.

One hundred feet- seventy-five-fifty-twenty-five-ten-time!"

As the signal echoed in his blacked-out space helmet, Tom jerked his body around in a

sudden violent move, and grasping the valve of the jet unit on his back, he opened it halfway.

He waited, holding his breath, expecting to hear Captain Strong correct his course. He

counted to ten slowly, and when no correction came over the headphones, he opened the

valve wide and blindly shot through space.

Aboard the Polaris, Astro and Roger shouted with joy and Strong could not repress a

grin. The tiny figure on the scanner was hurtling straight for the side of the Polaris!

As the image grew larger and larger, anxious eyes swiveled back and forth from the

scanner screen to the steady sweeping hand of the chronometer. Roger bit his lip nervously,

and Astro's hands trembled.

When Tom reached a point five hundred feet away from the ship, Strong flipped open

the audio circuit and issued his first order.

"Range five hundred feet," he called. "Cut jets!"

"You're already here, spaceboy!" yelled Roger into the mike, leaning over Strong's

shoulder. The captain silenced him with a glare. No one could speak to the examinee but

the testing officer.

Tom closed the valve of his jet unit and blindly jerked himself around again to drift feet

first toward the ship. Strong watched this approach closely, silently admiring the effortless

way the cadet handled himself in weightless space. When Tom was fifty feet away from the

ship, and still traveling quite fast, Strong gave the second order to break his speed. Tom

opened the valve again and felt the tug of the jets braking his acceleration. He drifted slower

and slower, and realizing that he was close to the hull of the ship, he stretched his legs,

striving to make contact. Seconds later he felt a heavy thump at the soles of his feet, and

within the ship there was the muffled clank of metal boot weights hitting the metal skin of the

hull. "Time!" roared Strong and glanced at the astral chronometer over his head. The boys

crowded around as the Solar Guard captain quickly computed Tom's score. "Nine minutes,

fifty-one seconds, and two corrections," he announced, unable to keep the pride out of his

voice.

"We win! We win!" roared Roger. "Term honors go to the Polaris!"

Roger turned around and began pounding Astro on the chest, and the giant Venusian

picked him up and waltzed him around the deck. The three members of the Arcturus unit

waited until the first flush of victory died away and then crowded around the two boys to

congratulate them.

"Don't forget the cadet who did it," commented Strong dryly, and the five cadets rushed

below to the jet-boat deck to wait for Tom.

When Tom emerged from the air lock a few moments later, Roger and Astro swarmed

all over him, and another wild dance began. Finally, shaking free of his well-meaning but

violent unit mates, he grinned and gasped, "Well, from that reception, I guess I did it."

"Spaceboy"-Roger smiled-"you made the Arcturus unit look like three old men in a

washtub counting toes!"

"Congratulations, Corbett," said Tony Richards of the Arcturus crew, offering his hand.

"That was really fast maneuvering out there."

"Thanks, Tony." Tom grinned, running his hand through his brown curly hair. "But I have

to admit I was a little scared. Wow! What a creepy feeling to know you're out in space alone

and not able to see anything."

Their excitement was interrupted by Strong's voice over the ship's intercom. "Stand by,

all stations!"

"Here we go!" shouted Roger. "Back to the Academy-and leave!"

"Yeeeeooooow!" Astro's bull-like roar echoed through the ship as the cadets hurried to

their flight stations.

As command cadet of the Polaris, Tom climbed up to the control deck, and strapping

himself into the command pilot's seat, prepared to get under way. Astro, the power-deck

cadet who could "take apart a rocket engine and put it back together again with his thumbs,"

thundered below to the atomic rockets he loved more than anything else in the universe.

Roger Manning, the third member of the famed Polaris unit, raced up the narrow ladder

leading to the radar bridge to take command of astrogation and communications.

While Captain Strong and the members of the Arcturus unit strapped themselves into

acceleration cushions, Tom conducted a routine check of the many gauges on the great

control panel before him. Satisfied, he flipped open the intercom and called, "All stations,

check in!"

"Radar deck, aye!" drawled Roger's la/y voice.

"Power deck, aye!" rumbled Astro.

"Energize the cooling pumps!" ordered Tom.

"Cooling pumps, aye!"

The whine of the mighty pumps was suddenly heard, moaning eerily throughout the ship.

"Feed reactant!"

The sharp hiss of fuel being forced into the rocket engines rose above the whine of the

pumps, and the ship trembled.

"Stand by to blast," called Tom. "Standard space speed!"

Instantly the Polaris shot toward Earth in a long, curving arc. Moments later, when the

huge round ball of the mother planet loomed large on the scanner screen, Roger's voice

reported over the intercom, "Academy spaceport control gives us approach orbit 074 for

touchdown on Ramp Twelve, Tom."

"074 Ramp Twelve," repeated Tom. "Got it!"

"Twelve!" roared Astro suddenly over the intercom. "Couldn't you make it closer to the

Academy than that, Manning? We'll have to walk two miles to the nearest slidewalk!"

"Too bad, Astro," retorted Roger, "but I guess if I had to carry around as much useless

muscle and bone as you do, I'd complain tool"

"I'm just not as lucky as you, Manning," snapped Astro quickly. "I don't have all that

space gas to float me around."

"Knock it off, fellows," interjected Tom firmly. "We're going into our approach."

Lying on his acceleration cushion, Strong looked over at Tony Richards of the Arcturus

unit and winked. Richards winked and smiled back. "They never stop, do they, sir?"

"When they do," replied Strong, "I'll send all three of them to sick bay for examination."

"Two hundred thousand feet to Earth's surface," called Tom. "Stand by for landing

operations."

As Tom adjusted the many controls on the complicated operations panel of the ship,

Roger and Astro followed his orders quickly and exactly. "Cut main drive rockets and give

me one-half thrust on forward braking rockets!" ordered Tom, his eyes glued to the

altimeter.

The Polaris shuddered under the sudden reverse in power, then began an upward

curve, nose pointing back toward space. Tom barked another command. "Braking rockets

full! Stand by main drive rockets!"

The sleek ship began to settle tailfirst toward its destination-Space Academy, U.S.A.

In the heart of a great expanse of cleared land in the western part of the North American

continent, the cluster of buildings that marked Space Academy gleamed brightly in the noon

sun. Towering over the green grassy quadrangle of the Academy was the magnificent Tower

of Galileo, built of pure Titan crystal which gleamed like a gigantic diamond. With smaller

buildings, including the study halls, the nucleonics laboratory, the cadet dormitories, mess

halls, recreation halls, all connected by rolling slidewalks-and to the north, the vast area of

the spaceport with its blast-pitted ramps -the Academy was the goal of every boy in the year

a.d. 2353, the age of the conquest of space.

Founded over a hundred years before, Space Academy trained the youth of the Solar

Alliance for service in the Solar Guard, the powerful force created to protect the liberties of

the planets. But from the beginning, Academy standards were so high, requirements so

strict, that not many made it. Of the one thousand boys enrolled every year, it was expected

that only twenty-one of them would become officers, and of this group, only seven would be

command pilots. The great Solar Guard fleet that patrolled the space lanes across the

millions of miles between the satellites and planets possessed the finest, yet most

complicated, equipment in the Alliance. To be an officer in the fleet required a combination

of skills and technical knowledge so demanding that eighty per cent of the Solar Guard

officers retired at the age of forty.

High over the spaceport, the three cadets of the Polaris unit, happy over the prospect of

a full month of freedom, concentrated on the task of landing the great ship on the Academy

spaceport. Watching the teleceiver screen that gave him a view of the spaceport astern of

the ship, Tom called into the intercom, "One thousand feet to touchdown. Cut braking

rockets. Main drive full!"

The thunderous blast of the rockets was his answer, building up into roaring violence.

Shuddering, the great cruiser eased to the ground foot by foot, perfectly balanced on the

fiery exhaust from her main tubes.

Seconds later the giant shock absorbers crunched on the ramp and Tom closed the

master switch cutting all power. He glanced at the astral chronometer over his head and

then turned to speak into the audio log recorder. "Rocket cruiser Polaris completed space

flight one-seven-six at 1301."

Captain Strong stepped up to Tom and clapped him on the shoulder. "Secure the

Polaris, Tom, and tell Astro to get the reactant pile from the firing chamber ready for

dumping when the hot-soup wagon gets here." The Solar Guard officer referred to the

lead-lined jet sled that removed the reactant piles from all ships that were to be laid up for

longer than three days. "And you'd better get over to your dorm right away," Strong

continued. "You have to get ready for parade and full Corps dismissal."

Tom grinned. "Yes, sir!"

"We're blasting off, sir," said Tony Richards, stepping forward with his unit mates.

"Congratulations again, Corbett. I still can't figure out how you did it so quickly!"

"Thanks, Tony," replied Tom graciously. "It was luck and the pressure of good

competition."

Richards shook hands and then turned to Strong. "Do I have your permission to leave

the ship, sir?" he asked.

"Permission granted," replied Strong. "And have a good leave."

"Thank you, sir."

The three Arcturus cadets saluted and left the ship. A moment later Roger and Astro

joined Strong and Tom on the control deck.

"Well," said Strong, "what nonsense have you three planned for your leave? Try and see

Liddy Tamal. I hear she's making a new stereo about the Solar Guard. You might be hired

as technical assistants." He smiled. The famous actress was a favorite of the cadets. Strong

waited. "Well, is it a secret?"

"It was your idea, Astro," said Roger. "Go ahead."

"Yeah," said Tom. "You got us into this."

"Well, sir," mumbled Astro, turning red with embarrassment, "we're going to Venus."

"What's so unusual about going to Venus?" asked Strong.

"We're going hunting," replied Astro.

"Hunting?"

"Yes, sir," gulped the big Venusian. "For tyrannosaurus.”

Strong's jaw dropped and he sat down suddenly on the nearest acceleration cushion. "I

expected something a little strange from you three whiz kids." He laughed. "It would be

impossible for you to go home and relax for a month. But this blasts me! Hunting for a

tyrannosaurus! What are you going to do with it after you catch it?" He paused and then

added, "If you do."

"Eat it," said Astro simply. "Tyrannosaurus steak is delicious!"

Strong doubled with laughter at the seriousness of Astro's expression. The giant

Venusian continued doggedly, "And besides, there's a bounty on them. A thousand credits

for every tyranno head brought in. They're dangerous and destroy a lot of crops."

Strong straightened up. "All right, all right! Go ahead! Have yourselves a good time, but

don't take any unnecessary chances. I like my cadets to have all the arms and legs and

heads they're supposed to have." He paused and glanced at his watch. "You'd better get

hopping. Astro, did you get the pile ready for the soup wagon?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Very well, Tom, secure the ship." He came to attention. "Unit, stand-to!"

The three cadets stiffened and saluted sharply.

"Unit dismissed!"

Captain Strong turned and left the ship.

Hurriedly, Tom, Roger, and Astro checked the great spaceship and fifteen minutes later

were racing out of the main air lock. Hitching a ride on a jet sled to the nearest slidewalk,

they were soon being whisked along toward their quarters. Already, cadet units were

standing around in fresh blues waiting for the call for final dress parade.

At exactly fifteen hundred, the entire Cadet Corps stepped off with electronic precision

for the final drill of the term. By threes, each unit marching together, with the Polaris unit

walking behind the standard bearers as honor unit, they passed the reviewing stand. Senior

officers of the Solar Guard, delegates from the Solar Alliance, and staff officers of the

Academy accepted their salute. Commander Walters stood stiffly in front of the stand, his

heart filled with pride as he recognized the honor unit. He had almost washed out the Polaris

unit in the beginning of their Academy training.

Major Lou Connel, Senior Line Officer of the Solar Guard, stepped forward when the

cadets came to a stop and presented Tom, Roger, and Astro with the emblem of their

achievement, a small gold pin in the shape of a rocket ship. He, too, had had his difficulties

with the Polaris unit, and while he had never been heard to compliment anyone on anything,

expecting nothing but the best all the time, he nevertheless congratulated them heartily as he

gave them their hard-won trophy.

After several other awards had been presented, Commander Walters addressed the

Cadet Corps, concluding with ". . . each of you has had a tough year. But when you come

back in four weeks, you'll think this past term has been a picnic. And remember, wherever

you go, whatever you do, you're Space Cadets! Act like one! But above all, have a good

time! Spaceman's luck!"

A cadet stepped forward quickly, turned to face the line of cadets, and held up his

hands. He brought them down quickly and words of the Academy song thundered from a

thousand voices.

"From the rocket fields of the Academy

To the far-flung stars of outer space,

We're Space Cadets training to be

Ready for dangers we may face.

Up in the sky, rocketing past,

Higher than high, faster than fast,

Out into space, into the sun,

Look at her go when we give her the gun.

We are Space Cadets, and we are proud to say

Our fight for right will never cease.

Like a cosmic ray, we light the way

To interplanet peace!"

"Dis-missed!" roared Walters. Immediately the precise lines of cadets turned into a

howling mob of eager boys, everyone seemingly running in a different direction.

"Come on," said Roger. "I've got everything set! Let's get to the station ahead of the

mob."

"But what about our gear?" said Tom. "We've got to get back to the dorm."

"I had it sent down to the station last night. I got the monorail tickets to Atom City last

week, and reserved seats on the Venus Lark two weeks ago! Come on!"

"Only Roger could handle it so sweetly," sighed Astro. "You know, hotshot, sometimes I

think you're useful!"

The three cadets turned and raced across the quadrangle for the nearest slidewalk that

would take them to the Academy monorail station and the beginning of their adventure in the

jungles of Venus.

CHAPTER 2

"The situation may be serious and it may not, but I don't want to take any chances."

Commander Walters sat in his office, high up in the Tower of Galileo, with department

heads from the Academy and Solar Guard. Behind him, an entire wall made of clear crystal

offered a breath-taking view of the Academy grounds. Before him, their faces showing their

concern over a report Walters had just read, Captain Strong, Major Connel, Dr. Joan Dale,

and Professor Sykes waited for the commanding officer of the Academy to continue.

"As you know," said Walters, "the resolution passed by the Council in establishing the

Solar Guard specifically states that it shall be the duty of the Solar Guard to investigate and

secure evidence for the Solar Alliance Council of any acts by any person, or group of

persons, suspected of overt action against the Solar Constitution or the Universal Bill of

Rights. Now, based on the report I've just read to you, I would like an opinion from each of

you."

"For what purpose, Commander?" asked Joan Dale, the young and pretty

astrophysicist.

"To decide whether it would be advisable to have a full and open investigation of this

information from the Solar Guard attaché on Venus."

"Why waste time talking?" snapped Professor Sykes, the chief of the nucleonics

laboratory. "Let's investigate. That report sounds serious."

Major Connel leveled a beady eye on the little gray-haired man.

"Professor Sykes, an investigation is serious. When it is based on a report like this one,

it is doubly serious, and needs straight and careful thinking. We don't want to hurt innocent

people."

Sykes shifted around in his chair and glared at the burly Solar Guard officer. "Don't try to

tell me anything about straight thinking, Connel. I know more about the Solar Constitution

and the rights of our citizens than you'll know in ten thousand light years!"

"Yeah?" roared Connel. "And with all your brains you'd probably find out these people

are nothing more than a harmless bunch of colonists out on a picnic!"

The professor shot out of his chair and waved an angry finger under Connel's nose.

"And that would be a lot more than I'm finding out right now with that contraption of yours!" he

shouted.

Connel's face turned red. "So that's how you feel about my invention!" he snapped.

"Yes, that's the way I feel about your invention!" replied Sykes hotly. "I know three cadets

that could build that gadget in half the time it's taken you just to figure out the theory!"

Commander Walters, Captain Strong, and Joan Dale were fighting to keep from

laughing at the hot exchange between the two veteran spacemen.

"They sound like the Polaris unit," Joan whispered to Strong.

Walters stood up. "Gentlemen! Please! We're here to discuss a report on the activities

of a secret organization on Venus. I will have to ask you to keep to the subject at hand. Dr.

Dale, do you have any comments on the report?" He turned to the young physicist who was

choking off a laugh.

"Well, Commander," she began, still smiling, "the report is rather sketchy. I would like to

see more information before any real decision is made."

Walters turned to Strong. "Steve?"

"I think Joan has the right idea, sir," he replied. "While the report indicates that a group

of people on Venus are meeting regularly and secretly, and wearing some silly uniform, I

think we need more information before ordering a full-scale investigation."

"He's right, Commander," Connel broke in. "You just can't walk into an outfit and

demand a look at their records, books, and membership index, unless you're pretty sure

you'll find something."

"Send a man from here," Strong suggested. "If you use anyone out of the Venus office,

he might be recognized."

"Good idea," commented Sykes.

Joan nodded. "Sounds reasonable."

"How do you feel about it, Connel?" asked Walters.

Connel, still furious over Sykes's comment on his spectrum recorder, shot an angry

glance at the professor. "I think it's fine," he said bluntly. "Who're you going to send?"

Walters paused before answering. He glanced at Strong and then back at Connel.

"What about yourself?"

"Me?"

"Why not?" continued Walters. "You know as much about Venus as anyone, and you

have a lot of friends there you can trust. Nose around a while, see what you can learn,

unofficially."

"But what about my work on the spectrum recorder?" asked Connel.

"That!" snorted Sykes derisively. "Huh, that can be completed any time you want to

listen to some plain facts about-"

"I'll never listen to anything you have to say, you dried-up old neutron chaser!" blasted

Connel.

"Of course not," cackled Sykes. "And it's the same bullheaded stubbornness that'll keep

you from finishing that recorder."

"I'm sorry, gentlemen," said Walters firmly. "I cannot allow personal discussions to

interfere with the problem at hand. How about it, Connel? Will you go to Venus?"

Lou Connel was the oldest line officer in the Solar Guard, having recommended the

slightly younger Walters for the post of commandant of Space Academy and the Solar

Guard so that he himself could escape a desk job and continue blasting through space

where he had devoted his entire life. While Walters had the authority to order him to accept

the assignment, Connel knew that if he begged off because of his work on the recorder,

Walters would understand and offer the assignment to Strong. He paused and then growled,

"When do I blast off?"

Walters smiled and answered, "As soon as we contact Venus headquarters and tell

them to expect you."

"Wouldn't it be better to let me go without any fanfare?" mused the burly spaceman. "I

could just take a ship and act as though I'm on some kind of special detail. As a matter of

fact, Higgleston at the Venusport lab has some information I could use."

"Anything Higgleston could tell you," interjected Sykes, "I can tell you! You're just too

stubborn to listen to me."

Connel opened his mouth to blast the professor in return, but he caught a sharp look

from Walters and he clamped his lips together tightly.

"I guess that's it, then," said Walters. "Anyone have any other ideas?" He glanced

around the room. "Joan? Steve?"

Dr. Dale and Captain Strong shook their heads silently. Strong was disappointed that

he had not been given the assignment on Venus. Four weeks at the deserted Academy

would seem like living in a graveyard. Walters sensed his feelings, and smiling, he said,

"You've been going like a hot rocket this past year, Steve. I have a specific assignment for

you."

"Yes, sir!" Strong looked up eagerly.

"I want you to go to the Sweet Water Lakes around New Chicago-"

"Yes, sir?"

"-go to my cabin-"

"Sir?”

"-and go fishing!"

Strong grinned. "Thanks, skipper," he said quietly. "I guess I could use a little relaxation.

I was almost tempted to join Corbett, Manning, and Astro. They're going hunting in the jungle

belt of Venus for a tyrannosaurus!"

"Blast my jets!" roared Connel. "Those boys haven't killed themselves in line of duty, so

they go out and tangle with the biggest and most dangerous monster in the entire solar

system!"

"Well," said Joan with a smile, "I'll put my money on Astro against a tyranno any time,

pound for pound!"

"Hear, hear!" chimed in Sykes, and forgetting his argument with Connel, he turned to the

spaceman. "Say, Lou," he said, "when you get to Venus tell Higgy I said to show you that

magnetic ionoscope he's rigging up. It might give you some ideas."

"Thanks," replied Connel, also forgetting the hot exchange of a few minutes before. He

stood up. "I'll take the Polaris, Commander. She's the fastest ship available with automatic

controls for a solo hop."

"She's been stripped of her reactant pile, Major," said Strong. "It'll take a good eighteen

hours to soup her up again."

"I'll take care of it," said Connel. "Are there any specific orders, Commander?"

"Use your own judgment, Lou," said Walters. "You know what we want and how far to go

to get it. If you learn anything, we'll start a full-scale investigation. If not, we'll forget the whole

matter and no one will get hurt."

"And the Solar Guard won't get a reputation of being nosy," added Strong.

Connel nodded. "I'll take care of it." He shook hands all around, coming to Sykes last.

"Sorry I lost my temper, Professor," he said gruffly.

"Forget it, Major." Sykes smiled. He really admired the gruff spaceman.

The thick-set senior officer came to smart attention, saluted crisply, turned, and left the

office. For the time being, the mysterious trouble on Venus was his responsibility.

* * *

"Atom City express leaving on Track Four!" A metallic voice boomed over the station

loudspeaker, as last-minute passengers boarded the long line of gleaming white monorail

cars, hanging from a single overhead steel rail. In the open doorway of one of the end cars,

a conductor lifted his arm, then paused and waited patiently as three Space Cadets raced

down the stairs and along the platform in a headlong dash for the train. They piled inside,

almost one on top of the other.

"Thanks for waiting, sir," gasped Tom Corbett.

"Not at all, Cadet," said the conductor. "I couldn't let you waste your leave waiting for

another train."

The elderly man flipped a switch in the narrow vestibule and the door closed with a soft

hiss of air. He inserted a light key into a nearby socket and twisted it gently, completing a

circuit that flashed the "go" light in the engineer's cab. Almost immediately, the monorail

train eased forward, suspended on the overhead rail. By the time the last building of Space

Academy flashed past, the train was rolling along at full speed on its dash across the plains

to Atom City.

The ride to the great metropolis of the North American continent was filled with

excitement and anticipation for the three members of the Polaris crew. The cars were

crowded with cadets on leave, and while there was a lot of joking and horseplay, the few

civilian passengers were impressed with the gentlemanly bearing of the young spacemen.

Tom and Roger finally settled down to read the latest magazines supplied by the monorail

company. But Astro headed for the dining car where he attracted a great deal of attention by

his order of a dozen eggs, followed by two orders of waffles and a full quart of milk. Finally,

when the dining-car steward called a halt, because it was closing time, Astro made his way

back to Tom and Roger with a plastic bag of French fried potatoes, and the three boys sat,

munching them happily. The countryside flashed by in a blur of summer color as the train

roared on at a speed of two hundred miles an hour.

A few hours and four bags of potatoes later, Astro yawned and stretched his enormous

arms, nearly poking Roger in the eye.

"Hey, ya big ape!" growled Roger. "Watch the eye!"

"You'd never miss it, Manning," said Astro. "Just use your radar."

"Never mind, I like this eye just the way it is."

"We're almost there," called Tom. He pointed out the crystal window and they could see

the high peaks of the Rocky Mountain range looming ahead. "We cut through the new tunnel

in those mountains and we'll be in Atom City in ten minutes!"

There was a bustle of activity around them as other cadets roused themselves and

collected their gear. Once again conversation became animated and excited as the train

neared its destination. Flashing into the tunnel, the line of cars began to slow down, rocking

gently.

"We'd better go right out to the spaceport," said Tom, pulling his gear out of the

recessed rack under his seat. "Our ship blasts off for Venus in less than a half-hour."

"Boy, it'll be a pleasure to ride a spaceship without having to astrogate," said Roger. "I'll

just sit back and take it easy. Hope there are some good-looking space dolls aboard."

Tom turned to Astro. "You know, Astro," he said seriously, "it's a good thing we're along

to take care of this Romeo. If he were alone, he'd wind up in another kind of hunt."

"I'd like to see how Manning's tactics work on a female dasypus novemcinctur

maximus," said Astro with a sly grin.

"A female what?" yelled Roger.

"A giant armadillo, Roger," Tom explained, laughing. "Very big and very mean when

they don't like you.

Don't forget, everything on Venus grows big because of the lighter gravity."

"Yeah," drawled Roger, looking at Astro. "Big and dumb!"

"What was that again?" bellowed the giant Venusian, reaching for the flip cadet. The

next moment, Roger was struggling futilely, feet kicking wildly as Astro held him at arm's

length six inches off the floor. The cadets in the car roared with laughter.

"Atom City!" a voice over the intercar communicator boomed and the boys looked out

the window to see the towering buildings of Atom City slowly slide by. The train had scarcely

reached a full stop when the three cadets piled out of the door, raced up the slidestairs, and

jumped into a jet cab. Fifteen minutes later they marched up to one of the many ticket

counters of the Atom City Interplanetary Spaceport.

"Reservations for Cadets Corbett, Manning, and Astro on the Venus Lark, please,"

announced Tom.

The girl behind the counter ran her finger down a passenger manifest, nodded, and then

suddenly frowned. She turned back to Tom and said, "I'm sorry, Cadet, but your reservations

have been pre-empted by a priority listing."

"Priority!" roared Roger. "But I made those reservations two weeks ago. If there was a

change, why didn't you tell us before?"

"I'm sorry, sir," said the girl patiently, "but according to the manifest, the priority call just

came in a few hours ago. Someone contacted Space Academy, but you had already left."

"Well, is there another ship for Venusport today?"

"Yes," she replied and picked up another manifest. Glancing at it quickly, she shook her

head. "There are no open reservations," she said. "I'm afraid the next flight for Venusport

with open reservations isn't for four days."

"Blast my jets!" growled Roger disgustedly. "Four days!" He sat down on his gear and

scowled. Astro leaned against the desk and stared gloomily at the floor. At that moment a

young man with a thin face and a strained intense look pushed Tom to one side with a curt

"Excuse me!" and stepped up to the desk.

"You're holding three reservations on the Venus Lark," he spoke quickly. "Priority

number four-seven-six, S.D."

Tom, Roger, and Astro looked at him closely. They saw him nervously pay for his tickets

and then walk away quickly without another look at the ticket girl.

"Were those our seats, miss?" asked Tom. The girl nodded.

The three cadets stared after the young man who had bumped them off their ship.

"The symbol S.D. on the priority stands for Solar Delegate," said Roger. "Maybe he's a

messenger."

The young man was joined by two other men also dressed in Venusian clothing, and

after a few words, they all turned and stepped onto the slidewalk rolling out to the giant

passenger ship preparing to blast off.

"This is the most rocket-blasting bit of luck in the universe!" growled Roger. "Four

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THEREVOLTONVENUSByCAREYROCKWELLNo.5intheTOMCORBETTSpaceCadetAdventureseriesTheTomCorbettseries:STANDBYFORMARS!,1952DANGERINDEEPSPACE,1953ONTHETRAILOFTHESPACEPIRATES,1953THESPACEPIONEERS,1953THEREVOLTONVENUS,1954TREACHERYINOUTERSPACE,1955SABOTAGEINSPACE,1956THEROBOTROCKET,1956WILLYLEYTechnicalAdviser...

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Carey Rockwell - Tom Corbett Space Cadet 05 - The Revolt on Venus

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