Carey Rockwell - Tom Corbett Space Cadet 02 - Danger in Deep Space

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DANGER IN DEEP SPACE

By CAREY ROCKWELL

No 2 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

In this latest exciting Space Cadet story Tom Corbett and his friends, Astro, and Roger

Manning, participate in the most daring undertaking in all space history. While on an

experimental trip in the Polaris to test out some new equipment, they and Captain Connel

learn of a scheme of a pair of notorious space freebooters to steal the rich mineral

resources of one of the planet Tara's small satellites. To foil the scheme the members of the

Polaris crew themselves land on the satellite with the daring plan to blast it out of Tara's orbit

and into Earth's orbit where its valuable mineral wealth may replenish Earth's shortages.

When the freebooters capture Tom and the Polaris, leaving Captain Connel and the

other cadets on the dislodged satellite, hurtling through space toward Alpha Centauri, its

sun, the situation becomes desperate indeed.

However, Tom manages to outwit the space bandits, recaptures the Polaris, and then to

rescue his companions from a fiery death on the runaway satellite.

More Tom Corbett stories are in work. Keep in touch with your bookseller for

information regarding these thrilling stories.

WILLY LEY Technical Adviser

GROSSET & DUNLAP Publishers New York

Illustrations by Louis Glanzman.

ILLUSTRATIONS

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Frontispiece

The three weary cadets assembled on the control deck

The junior spaceman maneuvered the great rocket ship toward the air lock

The jet cab raced along the highway to Venus-port

Tom could see two space-suited figures floating effortlessly

Mason was frozen into a rigid statue, unable to move

"Remember," Astro cautioned, "set the fuse for two hours"

Landing, they would tumble out of the jet boat and begin their frantic digging

"I know we're going to be sent to the prison asteroid and we deserve it," said Loring

DANGER IN DEEP SPACE

CHAPTER 1

"Stand by to reduce thrust on main drive rockets!" The tall, broad-shouldered officer in

the uniform of the Solar Guard snapped out the order as he watched the telescanner screen

and saw the Western Hemisphere of Earth looming larger and larger.

"Aye, aye, Captain Strong," replied a handsome curly-haired Space Cadet. He turned

to the ship's intercom and spoke quickly into the microphone.

"Control deck to power deck. Check in!"

"Power deck, aye," a bull-throated voice bellowed over the loud-speaker.

"Stand by rockets, Astro! We're coming in for a landing."

"Standing by!"

The Solar Guard officer turned away from the telescanner and glanced quickly over the

illuminated banks of indicators on the control panel. "Is our orbit to Space Academy clear?"

he asked the cadet. "Have we been assigned a landing ramp?"

"I'll check topside, sir," answered the cadet, turning back to the intercom. "Control deck

to radar deck. Check in!"

"Radar bridge, aye," drawled a lazy voice over the speaker.

"Are we cleared for landing, Roger?"

"Everything clear as glass ahead, Tom," was the calm reply.

"We're steady on orbit and we touch down on ramp seven. Then"-the voice began to

quicken with excitement-"three weeks' liberty coming up!"

The rumbling voice of the power-deck cadet suddenly broke in over the intercom. "Lay

off that space gas, Manning. Just see that this space wagon gets on the ground in one

piece. Then you can dream about your leave!"

"Plug your jets, you big Venusian ape man," was the reply, "or I'll turn you inside out!"

"Yeah? You and what fleet of spaceships?"

"Just me, buster, with my bare hands!"

The Solar Guard officer on the control deck smiled at the young cadet beside him as the

good-natured argument crackled over the intercom speaker overhead. "Looks like those

two will never stop battling, Corbett," he commented dryly.

"Guess they'll never learn, sir," sighed the cadet.

"That's all right. It's when they stop battling that I'll start getting worried," answered the

officer. He turned back to the controls. "One hundred thousand feet from Earth's surface!

Begin landing procedure!"

As Cadet Tom Corbett snapped orders into the intercom and his unit-mates responded

by smooth coordinated action, the giant rocket cruiser Polaris slowly arched through Earth's

atmosphere, first nosing up to lose speed and then settling tailfirst toward its destination-the

spaceport at Space Academy, U.S.A.

Far below, on the grounds of the Academy, cadets wearing the green uniforms of

first-year Earthworms and the blue of the upperclassmen stopped all activity as they heard

the blasting of the braking rockets high in the heavens. They stared enviously into the sky,

watching the smooth steel-hulled spaceship drop toward the concrete ramp area of the

spaceport, three miles away.

In his office at the top of the gleaming Tower of Galileo, Commander Walters,

commandant of Space Academy, paused for a moment from his duties and turned from his

desk to watch the touchdown of the great spaceship. And on the grassy quadrangle,

Warrant Officer Mike McKenny, short and stubby in his scarlet uniform of the enlisted Solar

Guard, stopped his frustrating task of drilling newly arrived cadets to watch the mighty ship

come to Earth.

Young and old, the feeling of belonging to the great fleet that patrolled the space lanes

across the millions of miles of the solar system was something that never died in a true

spaceman. The green-clad cadets dreamed of the future when they would feel the bucking

rockets in their backs. And the older men smiled faintly as memories of their own first space

flight came to mind.

Aboard the Polaris, the young cadet crew worked swiftly and smoothly to bring their

ship to a safe landing. There was Tom Corbett, an average young man in this age of

science, who had been selected as the control-deck and command cadet of the Polaris unit

after rigid examinations and tests. Topside, on the radar bridge, was Roger Manning, cocky

and brash, but a specialist in radar and communications. Below, on the power deck, was

Astro, a colonial from Venus, who had been accused of cutting his teeth on an atomic rocket

motor, so great was his skill with the mighty "thrust buckets," as he lovingly called the atomic

rockets.

Now, returning from a routine training flight that had taken them to the moons of Jupiter,

the three cadets, Corbett, Manning, and Astro, and their unit skipper, Captain Steve Strong,

completed the delicate task of setting the great ship down on the Academy spaceport.

"Closing in fast, sir," announced Tom, his attention focused on the meters and dials in

front of him. "Five hundred feet to touchdown."

"Full braking thrust!" snapped Strong crisply.

Deep inside the Polaris, braking rockets roared with unceasing power, and the mighty

spaceship eased itself to the concrete surface of the Academy spaceport.

"Touchdown!" yelled Tom. He quickly closed the master control lever, cutting all power,

and sudden silence filled the ship. He stood up and faced Strong, saluting smartly.

"Rocket cruiser Polaris completes mission"-he glanced at the astral chronometer on the

panel board-"at fifteen thirty-three, sir."

"Very well, Corbett," replied Strong, returning the salute. "Check the Polaris from radar

mast to exhaust ports right away."

"Yes, sir," was Tom's automatic answer, and then he caught himself. "But I thought-"

Strong interrupted him with a wave of his hand. "I know, Corbett, you thought the Polaris

would be pulled in for a general overhaul and you three would get liberty."

"Yes, sir," replied Tom.

"I'm not sure you won't get it," said Strong, "but I received a message last night from

Commander Walters. I think the Polaris unit might have another assignment coming up!"

"By the rings of Saturn," drawled Roger from the open hatch to the radar bridge, "you

might know the old man would have another mission for us! We haven't had a liberty since

we were Earthworms!"

"I'm sorry, Manning," said Strong, "but you know if I had my way, you'd certainly get the

liberty. If anyone deserves it, you three do."

By this time Astro had joined the group on the control deck.

"But, sir," ventured Tom, "we've all made plans, I mean-well, my folks are expecting me."

"Us, you mean," interrupted Roger. "Astro and I are your guests, remember?"

"Sure, I remember," said Tom, smiling. He turned back to Captain Strong. "We'd

appreciate it if you could do something for us, sir. I mean-well, have another unit assigned."

Strong stepped forward and put his arms around the shoulders of Tom and Roger and

faced Astro. "I'm afraid you three made a big mistake in becoming the best unit in the

Academy. Now every time there's an important assignment to be handed out the name of

the Polaris unit sticks out like a hot rocket!"

"Some consolation," said Roger dourly.

Strong smiled. "All right, check this wagon and then report to me in my quarters in the

morning. You'll have tonight off at least. Unit dis--missed!"

The three cadets snapped their backs straight, stood rigid, and saluted as their superior

officer strode toward the hatch. His foot on the ladder, he turned and faced them again.

"It's been a fine mission. I want to compliment you on the way you've handled yourselves

these past few months. You boys are real spacemen!" He saluted and disappeared down

the ladder leading to the exit port.

"And that," said Roger, turning to his unit-mates, "is known as the royal come-on for a

dirty detail!"

"Ahhh, stop your gassing, Manning," growled Astro. "Just be sure your radar bridge is

O.K. If we do have to blast out of here in a hurry, I want to get where we're supposed to be

going!"

"You just worry about the power deck, spaceboy, and let little Roger take care of his

own department," replied Roger.

Astro eyed him speculatively. "You know the only reason they allowed this space creep

in the Academy, Tom?" asked Astro.

"No, why?" asked Tom, playing along with the game.

"Because they knew any time the Polaris ran out of reactant fuel we could just stick

Manning in the rocket tubes and have him blow out some of his special brand of space

gas!"

"Listen, you Venusian throwback! One more word out of you and-"

"All right, you two!" broke in Tom good-naturedly. "Enough's enough! Come on. We've

got just enough time to run up to the mess hall and grab a good meal before we check the

ship."

"That's for me," said Astro. "I've been eating those concentrates so long my stomach

thinks I've turned into a test tube."

Astro referred to the food taken along on space missions. It was dehydrated and

packed in plastic containers to save weight and space. The concentrates never made a

satisfactory meal, even though they supplied everything necessary for a healthful diet.

A few moments later the three members of the Polaris stood on the main slidewalk, an

endless belt of plastic, powered by giant subsurface rollers, being carried from the

spaceport to the main academy administration building, the great gleaming Tower of

Galileo.

Space Academy, the university of the planets, was set among the low hills of the

western part of the North American continent. Here, in the nest of fledgling spacemen, boys

from Earth and the colonies of Venus and Mars learned the complex science that would

enable them to reach unlimited heights; to rocket through the endless void of space and visit

new worlds on distant planets millions of miles from Earth.

This was the year 2353-the age of space! A time when boys dreamed only of becoming

Space Cadets at Space Academy, to learn their trade and later enter the mighty Solar

Guard, or join the rapidly expanding merchant space service that sent out great fleets of

rocket ships daily to every corner of the solar system.

As the slidewalk carried the three cadets between the buildings that surrounded the

grassy quadrangle of the Academy, Tom looked up at the Tower of Galileo dominating the

entire area.

"You know," he began haltingly, "every time I go near this place I get a lump in my

throat!"

"Yeah," breathed Astro, "me too."

Roger made no comment. His eyes were following the path of the giant telescope

reflector that moved in a slow arc, getting into position for the coming night's observations.

Tom followed his gaze to the massive domed building, housing the giant one-thousand-inch

reflector.

"You think we'll ever go as far into the deep with a rocket ship as we can see with the

big eye?" he asked.

"I dunno," replied Roger. "That thing can penetrate other star systems in our galaxy. And

that's a long way off!"

"Nearest thing to us is Alpha Centauri in our own galaxy, and that's twenty-three and a

half million million miles away," commented Astro.

"That's not so far," argued Tom. "Only a few months ago the Solar Alliance sent out a

scientific exploration to take a look at that baby."

"Musta been some hop," commented Roger.

"Hey!" cried Tom suddenly. "There's Alfie Higgins!" He pointed in the direction of

another slidewalk moving at right angles to their own. The cadet that he singled out on the

slidewalk was so thin and small he looked emaciated. He wore glasses and at the moment

was absorbed in a paper he held in his hand.

"Well, what do you know!" cried Astro. "The Brain!"

Roger punched Astro in the mid-section. "If you were as smart as he is, you big grease

monkey, you'd be O.K."

"Nah!" replied Astro. "If I was as smart as Alfie, I'd be scared. And besides, what do I

need to be smart for? I've got you, haven't I?"

When they drew near the other slidewalk, the three members of the Polaris unit skipped

lightly over and jostled their way past other riders to the slightly built cadet.

"Alfie!" Tom yelled and slapped the cadet on the back. Alfie turned, his glasses

knocked askew by Tom's blow, and eyed the three Polaris members calmly.

"It gives me great pleasure to view your countenances again, Cadets Corbett, Manning,

and Astro," he said solemnly, nodding to each one.

Astro twisted his face into a grimace. "What'd he say, Roger?"

"He's happy to see you," Roger translated.

"Well, in that case," beamed Astro, "I'm happy to see you too, Alfie!"

"What's the latest space dope around the Academy, Alfie?" asked Tom. "What's this?"

he indicated the paper in Alfie's hand.

"By the sheerest of coincidences I happen to have a copy of your new assignment!"

replied Alfie.

Tom, Roger, and Astro looked at each other in surprise.

"Well, come on, spaceman," urged Roger. "Give us the inside info. Where are we

going?"

Alfie tucked the paper in his inside pocket and faced Roger. He cleared his throat and

spoke in measured tones. "Manning, I have high regard for your personality, your

capabilities, and your knowledge, all of which makes you an outstanding cadet. But even

you know that I occupy a position of trust as cadet courier for Commander Walters and the

administrative staff. I am not at liberty to mention anything that I would have occasion to

observe while in the presence of Commander Walters or the staff. Therefore, you will please

refrain from questioning me any further regarding the contents of these papers!"

Roger's jaw dropped. "Why, you human calculator, you were the one who brought it up in

the first place! I oughta knock off that big head of yours!"

Tom and Astro laughed.

"Lay off, Roger," said Tom. "You ought to know Alfie couldn't talk if he wanted to! We'll

just have to wait until Captain Strong is ready to tell us what our next assignment will be!"

By this time the slidewalk had carried them to the front of the main dormitory, and the

wide doors were crowded with members of the Space Academy Corps heading in for the

evening meal. From all corners of the quadrangle, the slidewalks carried Earthworms in their

green uniforms, upper-class cadets in deep blue, enlisted spacemen in scarlet red, and

Solar Guard officers in their striking uniforms of black and gold. Chatting and laughing, they

all were entering the great building.

The Polaris unit was well known among other cadet units, and they were greeted

heartily from all sides. As Astro and Roger joked with various cadet units, forming up in front

of the slidestairs leading down to the mess halls, Alfie turned to take a slidestairs going up.

Suddenly he stopped, grabbed Tom by the shoulders, and whispered in his ear. Just as

abruptly he turned and raced up the ascending slidestairs.

"What was that about?" asked Roger, as Tom stood staring after the little cadet.

"Roger-he-he said our next assignment would be one of the great experiments in space

history. Something to be done that-that hasn't ever been done before!"

"Well, blast my jets!" said Astro. "What do you suppose it is?"

"Ahhh," sneered Roger, "I'll bet it's nothing more than taking some guinea pigs to see

how they react to Jovian gravity. That's never been done before either! Why can't we get

something exciting for a change?"

Tom laughed. "Come on, you bloodthirsty adventurer, I'm starved!"

But Tom knew that Alfie Higgins didn't get excited easily, and his eyes were wide and

his voice trembled when he had whispered his secret to Tom.

The Polaris unit was due to embark on a great new adventure!

CHAPTER 2

"All O.K. here on the relay circuit," yelled Astro through the intercom from the power

deck.

"O.K.," answered Tom. "Now try out the automatic blowers for the main tubes!"

"Wanta give me a little juice for the radar antenna, Astro?" called Roger from the radar

deck.

"In a minute, Manning, in a minute," growled Astro. "Only got two hands, you know."

"You should learn to use your feet," quipped Roger. "Any normal Venusian can do just

as much with his toes as he can with his fingers!"

Back and forth the bantering had gone for twelve hours, while the three members of the

Polaris unit tested, checked, adjusted, and rechecked the many different circuits, relays,

junction boxes, and terminals in the miles of delicate wiring woven through the ship. Now, as

dawn began to creep pink and gray over the eastern horizon, they made their last-minute

search through the cavernous spaceship for any doubtful connections. Satisfied there were

none, the three weary cadets assembled on the control deck and sipped the hot tea that

Manning had thoughtfully prepared.

"You know, by the time we get out of the Academy I don't think there'll be a single inch of

this space wagon that I haven't inspected with my nose," commented Roger in a tired voice.

"You know you love it, Manning," said Astro, who, though as tired as Tom and Roger,

could still continue to work if necessary. His love for the mighty atomic rocket motors, and

his ability to repair anything mechanical, was already a legend around the Academy. He

cared for the power deck of the Polaris as if it were a baby.

"Might as well pack in and grab some sleep before we report to Captain Strong," said

Tom. "He might have us blasting off right away, and I, for one, would like to sleep and sleep

and then sleep some more!"

"I've been thinking about what Alfie had to say," said Roger. "You know, about this being

a great adventure."

"What about it?" asked Astro.

"Well, you don't give this kind of overhaul for just a plain, short hop upstairs."

"You think it might be something deeper?" asked Astro softly.

"Whatever it is," said Tom, getting up, "we'll need sleep." He rose, stretched, and

walked wearily to the exit port. Astro and Roger followed him out, and once again they

boarded the slidewalk for the trip back to the main dormitory and their quarters on the

forty-second floor. A half hour later the three members of the Polaris were sound asleep.

* * *

Early morning found Captain Steve Strong in his quarters, standing at the window and

staring blankly out over the quadrangle. In his left hand he clutched a sheaf of papers. He

had just reread, for the fifth time, a petition for reinstatement of space papers for Al Mason

and Bill Loring. It wasn't easy, as Strong well knew, to deprive a man of his right to blast off

and rocket through space, and the papers in question, issued only by the Solar Guard,

comprised the only legal license to blast off.

Originally issued as a means of preventing overzealous Earthmen from blasting off

without the proper training or necessary physical condition, which resulted in many deaths,

space papers had gradually become the only effective means of controlling the vast

expanding force of men who made space flight their life's work. With the establishment of

the Spaceman's Code a hundred years before, firm rules and regulations for space flight

had been instituted. Disobedience to any part of the code was punishable by suspension of

papers and forfeiture of the right to blast off.

One of these rules stated that a spaceman was forbidden to blast off without

authorization or clearance for a free orbit from a central traffic control. Bill Loring and Al

Mason were guilty of having broken the regulation. Members of the crew of the recent

expedition to Tara, a planet in orbit around the sun star Alpha Centauri, they had taken a

rocket scout and blasted off without permission from Major Connel, the commander of the

mission, who, in this case, was authorized traffic-control officer. Connel had recommended

immediate suspension of their space papers. Mason and Loring had petitioned for a

review, and, to assure impartial judgment, Commander Walters had sent the petition to one

of his other officers to make a decision. The petition had landed on Strong's desk.

Strong read the petition again and shook his head. The facts were too clear. There had

been flagrant disregard for the rules and there was no evidence to support the suspended

spacemen's charge that they had been unjustly accused by Connel. Strong's duty was clear.

He had to uphold Major Connel's action and suspend the men for a year.

Once the decision was made, Strong put the problem out of his mind. He walked to his

huge circular desk and began sorting through the day's orders and reports. On the top of the

pile of papers was a sealed envelope, bordered in red and marked "classified." It was from

Commander Walters' office. Thoughtfully he opened it and read:

To: Captain Steve Strong: Cadet Supervisor, Polaris Unit Upon receipt of this

communication, you are ordered to transfer the supervisory authority of the cadet unit

designated as POLARIS unit; i.e., Cadets Tom Corbett, Roger Manning, and Astro, and the

command of the rocket cruiser Polaris, to the command and supervisory authority of Major

Connel for execution of mission as outlined herein:

1. To test range, life, and general performance of audio communications transmitter,

type X21.

2. To test the above-mentioned transmitter under conditions of deep space flight.

3. This test to take place on the planet Tara, Alpha Centauri.

This communication and all subsequent information relative to above-mentioned

mission shall be classified as topmost secret.

Signed: Walters,

Commandant, Space Academy

"So that's it," he thought. "A hop into deep space for the Polaris unit!" He smiled. "The

cadets of the Polaris unit are in for a little surprise in two ways," he thought. "One from the

mission and one from Major Connel!"

He almost laughed out loud as he turned to the small desk teleceiver at his elbow. He

pressed a button immediately below the screen and it glowed into life to reveal a young man

in the uniform of the enlisted guard.

"Yes, Captain Strong?" he asked.

"Call the cadets of the Polaris unit," Strong ordered. "Have them report to me here on

the double!"

"Aye, aye, sir."

Strong started to turn the set off, but the enlisted man added, "By the way, sir, Al Mason

and Bill Loring are here to see you."

"Oh-well-" Strong hesitated.

"They're quite anxious to know if you've reached any decision regarding their petition for

reinstatement."

"Mmm-yes, of course. Very well, send them in."

"Aye, aye, sir."

The teleceiver screen blackened. In a moment the door opposite Strong's desk slid

back, and Loring and Mason stepped into the office. They shambled forward and stopped in

front of the huge desk, obviously ill at ease.

Strong stood up, holding their petition in his hand, and glanced over it briefly even

though he knew its contents by heart. He motioned to nearby chairs. "Sit down, please," he

said.

The two spacemen settled themselves uncomfortably on the edge of their chairs and

waited expectantly as Strong continued to look at the paper.

Loring finally broke the heavy silence.

"Well, Captain Strong, have you made a decision?" he asked. Loring was a heavy-set

man, in his middle forties. He needed a shave, and when he talked, his mouth twisted into

an ugly grimace.

"Hope it's in our favor, sir," suggested Mason. He was shorter than Loring and, seated,

his feet hardly reached the floor. His eyes darted nervously about the huge room, and he

kept rolling a dirty black spaceman's cap in his hands.

"Yes, I've reached a decision," said Strong slowly. He faced the two men and looked at

both of them with a steady cold stare. "I've decided to sustain Major Connel’s action. You

are both grounded for the next twelve months. Earth months!"

"What?" shouted Loring, jumping to his feet. He banged his fist down on the desk and

leaned over, his face close to Strong's. "You can't do that to us!"

Captain Strong didn't move. "I can," he said coldly. "And I have."

"But-but-" Mason began to whine. "But flight is all we know! How will we live?"

Strong sat down and leaned back in his chair to get away from the foul odor of Loring's

breath. He stared at the two men.

"You should have thought of that before you stole a rocket scout from the expedition and

made an unauthorized flight while on Tara," Strong replied. "You're lucky you're not accused,

tried, and convicted of theft of a Solar Guard spaceship!"

"We had permission to take that flight," snarled Loring. "That Major Connel is so blasted

space happy he forgot he gave us permission. Then when we came back, he slapped us in

the brig!"

"Do you have any proof of that?" asked Strong.

"No! But it's our word against his!" He slammed his hat down on the desk and shook his

finger in Strong's face. "You haven't any right to take away our papers just on the say-so of a

lousy Solar Guard officer who thinks he's king of the universe!"

"Take your filthy hat off my desk, Loring!" barked Strong. "And watch your language!"

Loring realized he had made a mistake and tried to backtrack. "Well, I apologize for

that. But I don't apologize for saying he thinks he's-"

"Major Connel has been in the Solar Guard for thirty years," said Strong emphatically.

"He's been awarded the Solar Medal three times. No other living spaceman has achieved

that! Not even Commander Walters! He rose through the ranks of the enlisted Solar Guard

and was commissioned as an officer of the Solar Guard in space during an emergency. He

qualifies higher than any other spaceman, and he has never been found to be unjust! He's

one of the finest spacemen ever to hit the wide, deep, and high!" Strong stopped, choked

for breath, and turned away. It wasn't often he lost his temper, but something had to be said

in defense of his fellow officer, and particularly since that officer was Connel. He turned back

to face the two spacemen, and his voice was hard and cold again.

"You are hereby suspended from space flight for twelve Earth months. Any further

petition for appeal of this decision will be denied!"

"All right! All right, Mr. Big!" snapped Loring. "Does this mean we can't even ride as

passengers?"

"No rights under the Universal Bill of Rights of the Solar Alliance have been denied you,

except that of actively participating in the flight of a spaceship!"

The signal bell of the teleceiver began to chime softly, and on the desk the teleceiver

screen glowed again. "Cadets Corbett, Manning, and Astro are here for their assignments,

sir," announced the enlisted man outside.

Loring glared at Strong. "I suppose you're going to send some punk kids out on the next

trip to Tara and leave us experienced spacemen to rot on the ground, huh?"

Strong didn't see the door slide open to admit the three cadets who entered quietly. His

whole attention was focused on the ugly glaring faces of Bill Loring and Al Mason.

"Get this, Loring!" snapped Strong hotly. "The assignments of the Polaris unit, whether it

be to Tara or the Moon, has nothing to do with your own breech of conduct. In any case, if

they were to be assigned, they'd do a better job than you 'experienced' spacemen who are

disrespectful of your superior officers and break regulations! If either of you makes one

more crack about the Solar Guard or Space Cadets, or anything at all, I'll take you out on

the quadrangle and pound some common courtesy into your heads! Now get out!"

"All right, all right-" muttered Loring retreating, but with a sneer on his lips. "We'll meet

again, Mr. Big-shot Spaceman!"

"I hope so, Loring. And if we do, I hope you've taken a bath. You even smell bad!"

From the rear of the room came a burst of laughter. Tom, Roger, and Astro,

unobserved, had been listening and watching their skipper in action. When Loring and

Mason had left the room, they advanced to the desk, came to attention, and saluted.

"Polaris unit reporting for duty, sir!" snapped Tom crisply.

"At ease," said Strong. "Did you hear all of that?"

"Yes, sir, skipper!" Roger smiled. "And believe me, you really gave it to those two

space bums!"

"Yeah," agreed Astro, "but I don't think even you could do much for Loring. He's just

born to smell bad!"

"Never mind that," said Strong. "I suppose you heard the part about the assignments?"

The three cadets assumed looks of pure innocence.

"We didn't hear a thing, sir," said Tom.

"You'll make a fine diplomat, Corbett." Strong laughed. "All right, sit down and I'll give it

to you straight."

They hastily took seats and waited for their skipper to begin.

"You've been assigned as cadet observers on a mission to test the range of a new

long-range audio transmitter." Strong paused, then added significantly, "The test is to take

place in deep space."

The three cadets only beamed their enthusiastic approval.

"Tara," continued Strong, "is your destination-a planet like Earth in many respects, in

orbit around the sun star Alpha Centauri. You'll take the Polaris directly to the Venus space

station, where the transmitter has been given primary tests, outfit the Polaris for hyper-drive,

and blast off!"

"Excuse me, sir," interrupted Tom, "but you say ‘you’?”

"I mean," replied Strong, "you, in the sense that I won't be going along with you. Oh,

don't worry!" said Strong, holding up his hand as a sudden look of anticipation spread over

the faces of the three boys. "You're not going alone! You'll have a commanding officer, all

right. In fact, you'll have the nearest thing to the perfect commanding officer in the Solar

Guard!" He waited just long enough for each boy to search his mind for a suitable candidate

and then added, "Your skipper will be Major Connel!"

"Major Connel!" the three cadets cried in unison.

"You mean Major 'Blast-off Connel?" uttered Roger unbelievingly.

"That's who I mean," said Strong. "It's the best thing in the universe that could happen to

you!"

Roger stood up and saluted smartly. "I request permission to be dismissed from this

mission on the grounds of incompatibility, sir," he said.

"Incompatible to what?" asked Strong, amused.

“To Major Connel, sir," replied Roger.

"Permission denied," said Strong with a smile. "Buck up! It isn't so bad." Strong paused

and stood up. "Well, that's it. It's close to eleven a.m. and you're to report to the major at

eleven on the nose. I hope you've got the Polaris in good shape."

"We were up all night, sir," said Tom. "She's ready to go."

"She's in better shape than we are," said Astro.

"Very well, then. Report to Major Connel immediately. Your papers have been

transferred, so all you have to do is report."

Strong rounded the desk and shook hands with each cadet. "This is an important

mission, boys," he said soberly. "See that you give Major Connel all the support I know

you're capable of giving. He'll need it. I doubt if I'll see you before you blast off, so this is it.

Spaceman's luck to each of you!"

CHAPTER 3

"Well, looks like we're big boys now," said Tom, as the three cadets strolled down the

corridor away from Captain Strong's office. "They don't hand out secret and important

missions to cadet units unless they're really on the ball!"

"But we've got Major 'Blast-off' Connel to educate," grumbled Roger.

"What do you mean 'educate'?" asked Astro.

"You know he's the roughest officer in the Academy," replied the blond-haired cadet.

"He eats cadets for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And then has an extra one for dessert. He

isn't just tough-his hide's made of armor plate. But I've got a hunch that if we play dumb at

first, then smarten up slowly, we can make him feel that he's done it for us. So he'll be easier

on us."

"Say, it's after eleven!" exclaimed Tom. "We'd better hurry!"

Suddenly, as if a rocket cruiser were blasting off in the corridors, a roar, deafening and

powerful, filled their ears. And beneath its ferocity there were four unmistakable words:

"Polaris unit-staaaaaaaannnnnndddddd toooooo!”

Every muscle, every bone in their three bodies snapped to rigid attention

simultaneously. Eyes straight, chins in, the cadets waited for whatever calamity had befallen

them. From behind came quick, heavy footsteps. They drew closer until they passed

alongside and then abruptly stopped. There, in front of them, stood the one and only Major

"Blast-off" Connel!

Though a few inches shorter than Astro, he was what Astro might become in thirty years,

heavily muscular, with a barrel chest that filled the gold-and-black uniform tightly. He stood

balanced on the balls of his small feet like a boxer, hands hanging loosely at his sides. A

bulldog chin jutted out of his rough-hewn face as if it were going to snap off the head of the

nearest cadet. He towered over Tom and Roger, and though shorter than Astro, he made up

for this by sheer force of personality. When he spoke, his voice was like a deep foghorn that

had suddenly learned the use of vowels.

"So this is the great Polaris unit, eh?" he bellowed. "You're two minutes late!"

Tom suddenly felt that he and his unit-mates were all alone in the corridor with the major.

He glanced to one side, then the other, cautiously, and saw it was empty. And for good

reason! No one wanted to be around when "Blast-off" Connel was blasting. Cadets, enlisted

men, and even officers were not safe from his sudden outbursts. He drove himself so hard

that he became impatient with others who were not able to match his drive. It was not

because of ego but rather to get the job at hand finished. More than once he had dressed

down a captain of the Solar Guard in the same tone he used on a green Earthworm. It was

legend around the Academy that once, believing he was right, he had broken into the

Council Chamber itself to argue his point. He won by a unanimous decision. Nothing, but

nothing, had been devised or thought of that could stop "Blast-off" Connel. Every waking

moment of his adult life had been spent in the pursuit of more and more knowledge about

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