Carey Rockwell - Tom Corbett Space Cadet 01 - Stand By for Mars!

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STAND BY FOK MARS!
By CAREY ROCKWELL
No 1 in the TOM CORBETT Space Cadet Adventure series.
Version 1.0
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
WITH THIS FIRST BOOK the millions of young interplanetary space
enthusiasts who have been following Tom Corbett's adventures on the radio,
television and in newspaper cartoon strips will now have the opportunity to
have them available on their own home bookshelves to read and reread and
enjoy permanently. This is the first of a series which quite conceivable may
take the place among modern readers that the Tom Swift books held a
generation ago. In his day, Tom Swift took to the air, but the teenagers of
today are headed for the wide-open planetary spaces along with Tom Corbett,
Astro, and Roger Manning aboard the spaceship Polaris!
STAND BY FOR MARS! finds the three young "rocketeers" at the Space
Academy undergoing the arduous training of Space Cadets, climaxed by a
tactical training cruise among the distant worlds of space and a crash landing
on Mars. Their desperate adventures on that planet of burning deserts and
endless canals end with a thrilling rescue and their triumphant return to the
Academy as seasoned veteran spacemen whose adventures will follow in
more hooks to come in this highly thrilling and imaginative series.
WILLY LEY Technical Adviser
GROSSET & DUNLAP Publishers New York
COPYRIGHT, 1952, BY ROCKHILL RADIO
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
STAND BY FOR MARS!
CHAPTER 1
"Stand to, you rocket wash!"
A harsh, bull-throated roar thundered over the platform of the monorail
station at Space Academy and suddenly the lively chatter and laughter of
more than a hundred boys was stilled. Tumbling out of the gleaming monorail
cars, they froze to quick attention, their eyes turned to the main exit ramp.
They saw a short, squat, heavily built man, wearing the scarlet uniform of
the enlisted Solar Guard, staring down at them, his fists jammed into his hips
and his feet spread wide apart. He stood there a moment, his sharp eyes
flicking over the silent clusters, then slowly sauntered down the ramp toward
them with a strangely light, catfooted tread.
"Form up! Column of fours!"
Almost before the echoes of the thunderous voice died down, the
scattered groups of boys had formed themselves into four ragged lines along
the platform.
The scarlet-clad figure stood before them, his seamed and weather-
beaten face set in stern lines. But there was a glint of laughter in his eyes as
he noticed the grotesque and sometimes tortuous positions of some of the
boys as they braced themselves in what they considered a military pose.
Every year, for the last ten years, he had met the trains at the monorail
station. Every year, he had seen boys in their late teens, gathered from Earth,
Mars, and Venus, three planets millions of miles apart. They were dressed in
many different styles of clothes; the loose flowing robes of the lads from the
Martian deserts; the knee-length shorts and high stockings of the boys from
the Venusian jungles; the vari-colored jacket and trouser combinations of the
boys from the magnificent Earth cities. But they all had one thing in common-a
dream. All had visions of becoming Space Cadets, and later, officers in the
Solar Guard. Each dreamed of the day when he would command rocket ships
that patrolled the space lanes from the outer edges of Pluto to the twilight
zone of Mercury. They were all the same.
"All right now! Let's get squared away!" His voice was a little more friendly
now. "My name's McKenny-Mike McKenny. Warrant Officer-Solar Guard. See
these hash marks?"
He suddenly held out a thick arm that bulged against the tight red sleeve.
From the wrists to the elbow, the lines of boys could see a solid corrugation of
white V-shaped stripes.
"Each one of these marks represents four years in space," he continued.
"There's ten marks here and I intend making it an even dozen! And no bunch
of Earthworms is going to make me lose the chance to get those last two by
trying to make a space monkey out of me!"
McKenny sauntered along the line of boys with that same strange catlike
step and looked squarely into the eyes of each boy in turn.
"Just to keep the record straight, I'm your cadet supervisor. I handle you
until you either wash out and go home, or you finally blast off and become
spacemen. If you stub your toe or cut your finger, come to me. If you get
homesick, come to me. And if you get into trouble"-he paused
momentarily-"don't bother because I'll be looking for you, with a fist full of
demerits!"
McKenny continued his slow inspection of the ranks, then suddenly
stopped short. At the far end of the line, a tall, ruggedly built boy of about
eighteen, with curly brown hair and a pleasant, open face, was stirring
uncomfortably. He slowly reached down toward his right boot and held it,
while he wriggled his foot into it. McKenny quickly strode over and planted
himself firmly in front of the boy.
"When I say stand to, I mean stand to!" he roared.
The boy jerked himself erect and snapped to attention.
"I-I'm sorry, sir," he stammered. "But my boot-it was coming off and-"
"I don't care if your pants are falling down, an order's an order!"
The boy gulped and reddened as a nervous titter rippled through the
ranks. McKenny spun around and glared. There was immediate silence.
"What's your name?" He turned back to the boy.
"Corbett, sir. Cadet Candidate Tom Corbett," answered the boy.
"Wanta be a spaceman, do ya?" asked Mike, pushing his jaw out another
inch.
"Yes, sir!"
"Been studying long hard hours in primary school, eh? Talked your
mother and father deaf in the ears to let you come to Space Academy and be
a spaceman! You want to feel those rockets bucking in your back out in the
stars? EH?"
"Yes, sir," replied Tom, wondering how this man he didn't even know
could know so much about him.
"Well, you wont make it if I ever catch you disobeying orders again!"
McKenny turned quickly to see what effect he had created on the others.
The lines of bewildered faces satisfied him that his old trick of using one of the
cadets as an example was a success. He turned back to Corbett.
"The only reason I'm not logging you now is because you're not a Space
Cadet yet-and won't be, until you've taken the Academy oath!"
"Yes, sir!"
McKenny walked down the line and across the platform to an open
teleceiver booth. The ranks were quiet and motionless, and as he made his
call, McKenny smiled. Finally, when the tension seemed unbearable, he
roared, "At ease!" and closed the door of the booth.
The ranks melted immediately and the boys fell into chattering clusters,
their voices low, and they occasionally peered over their shoulders at Corbett
as if he had suddenly been stricken with a horrible plague.
Brooding over the seeming ill-fortune that had called McKenny's attention
to him at the wrong time, Tom sat down on his suitcase to adjust his boot. He
shook his head slowly. He had heard Space Academy was tough, tougher
than any other school in the world, but he didn't expect the stern discipline to
begin so soon.
"This could be the beginning of the end," drawled a lazy voice in back of
Tom, "for some of the more enthusiastic cadets." Someone laughed.
Tom turned to see a boy about his own age, weight, and height, with
close-cropped blond hair that stood up brushlike all over his head. He was
lounging idly against a pillar, luggage piled high around his feet. Tom
recognized him immediately as Roger Manning, and his pleasant features
twisted into a scowl.
"About what I'd expect from that character," he thought, "after the trick he
pulled on Astro, that big fellow from Venus."
Tom's thoughts were of the night before, when the connecting links of
transportation from all over the Solar Alliance had deposited the boys in the
Central Station at Atom City where they were to board the monorail express
for the final lap to Space Academy.
Manning, as Tom remembered it, had taken advantage of the huge
Venusian by tricking him into carrying his luggage. Reasoning that since the
gravity of Venus was considerably less than that of Earth, he convinced Astro
that he needed the extra weight to maintain his balance. It had been a cheap
trick, but no one had wanted to challenge the sharpness of Manning's tongue
and come to Astro's rescue. Tom had wanted to, but refrained when he saw
that Astro didn't mind.
Finishing his conversation on the teleceiver, McKenny stepped out of the
booth and faced the boys again.
"All right," he bawled. "They're all set for you at the Academy! Pick up
your gear and follow me!" With a quick light step, he hopped on the rolling
slidewalk at the edge of the platform and started moving away.
"Hey, Astro!" Roger Manning stopped the huge boy about to step over.
"Going to carry my bags?"
The Venusian, a full head taller, hesitated and looked doubtfully at the
four suitcases at Roger's feet.
"Come on," prodded Roger in a tone of mock good nature. "The gravity
around here is the same as in Atom City. It's the same all over the face of the
Earth. Wouldn't want you to just fly away." He snickered and looked around,
winking broadly.
Astro still hesitated, "I don't know, Manning. I-uhh-"
"By the rings of Saturn! What's going on here?" Suddenly from outside the
ring of boys that had gathered around, McKenny came roaring in, bulling his
way to the center of the group to face Roger and Astro.
"I have a strained wrist, sir," began Roger smoothly.
"And this cadet candidate"-he nodded casually toward Astro-"offered to
carry my luggage. Now he refuses."
Mike glared at Astro. "Did you agree to carry this man's luggage?"
"Well-I-ah-" fumbled Astro.
"Well? Did you or didn't you?"
"I guess I sorta did, sir," replied Astro, his face turning a slow red.
"I don't hold with anyone doing another man's work, but if a Solar Guard
officer, a Space Cadet, or even a cadet candidate gives his word he'll do
something, he does it!" McKenny shook a finger in Astro's face, reaching up to
do it. "Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," was the embarrassed reply.
McKenny turned to Manning who stood listening, a faint smile playing on
his lips.
"What's your name, Mister?"
"Manning. Roger Manning," he answered easily.
"So you've got a strained wrist, have you?" asked Mike mockingly while
sending a sweeping glance from top to bottom of the gaudy colored clothes.
"Yes, sir."
"Can't carry your own luggage, eh?"
"Yes," answered Roger evenly. "I could carry my own luggage. I thought
the candidate from Venus might give me a helping hand. Nothing more. I
certainly didn't intend for him to become a marked man for a simple gesture of
comradeship." He glanced past McKenny toward the other boys and added
softly, "And comradeship is the spirit of Space Academy, isn't it, sir?"
His face suddenly crimson, McKenny spluttered, searching for a ready
answer, then turned away abruptly.
"What are you all standing around for?" he roared. "Get your gear and
yourselves over on that slidewalk! Blast!" He turned once again to the rolling
platform. Manning smiled at Astro and hopped nimbly onto the slidewalk after
McKenny, leaving his luggage in a heap in front of Astro.
"And be careful with that small case, Astro," he called as he drifted away.
"Here, Astro," said Tom. "I'll give you a hand."
"Never mind," replied Astro grimly. "I can carry 'em."
"No, let me help." Tom bent over-then suddenly straightened. "By the
way, we haven't introduced ourselves. My name's Corbett-Tom Corbett." He
stuck out his hand. Astro hesitated, sizing up the curly-headed boy in front of
him, who stood smiling and offering friendship. Finally he pushed out his own
hand and smiled back at Tom.
"Astro, but you know that by now."
"That sure was a dirty deal Manning gave you."
"Ah, I don't mind carrying his bags. It's just that I wanted to tell him he's
going to have to send it all back. They don't allow a candidate to keep more
than a toothbrush at the Academy."
"Guess he'll find out the hard way."
Carrying Manning's luggage as well as their own, they finally stepped on
the slidewalk and began the smooth easy ride from the monorail station to the
Academy. Both having felt the sharpness of Manning's tongue, and both
having been dressed down by Warrant Officer McKenny, they seemed to be
linked by a bond of trouble and they stood close together for mutual comfort.
As the slidewalk whisked them silently past the few remaining buildings
and credit exchanges that nestled around the monorail station, Tom gave
thought to his new life.
Ever since Jon Builker, the space explorer, returning from the first
successful flight to a distant galaxy, came through his home town near New
Chicago twelve years before, Tom had wanted to be a spaceman. Through
high school and the New Chicago Primary Space School where he had taken
his first flight above Earth's atmosphere, he had waited for the day when he
would pass his entrance exams and be accepted as a cadet candidate in
Space Academy. For no reason at all, a lump rose in his throat, as the
slidewalk rounded a curve and he saw for the first time, the gleaming white
magnificence of the Tower of Galileo. He recognized it immediately from the
hundreds of books he had read about the Academy and stared wordlessly.
"Sure is pretty, isn't it?" asked Astro, his voice strangely husky.
"Yeah," breathed Tom in reply. "It sure is." He could only stare at the
shimmering tower ahead.
"It's all I've ever wanted to do," said Tom at length. "Just get out there
and-be free!"
"I know what you mean. It's the greatest feeling in the world."
"You say that as if you've already been up there."
Astro grinned. "Yup. Used to be an enlisted space sailor. Bucked rockets
in an old freighter on the Luna City-Venusport run."
"Well, what are you doing here?" Tom was amazed and impressed.
"Simple. I want to be an officer. I want to get into the Solar Guard and
handle the power-push in one of those cruisers."
Tom's eyes glowed with renewed admiration for his new friend. "I've been
out four or five times but only in jet boats five hundred miles out. Nothing like
a jump to Luna City or Venusport."
By now the slidewalk had carried them past the base of the Tower of
Galileo to a large building facing the Academy quadrangle and the spell was
broken by McKenny's bull-throated roar.
"Haul off, you blasted polliwogs!"
As the boys jumped off the slidewalk, a cadet, dressed in the vivid blue
that Tom recognized as the official dress of the Senior Cadet Corps, walked
up to McKenny and spoke to him quietly. The warrant officer turned back to
the waiting group and gave rapid orders.
"By twos, follow Cadet Herbert inside and he'll assign you to your
quarters. Shower, shave if you have to and can find anything to shave, and
dress in the uniform that'll be supplied you. Be ready to take the Academy
oath at"-he paused and glanced at the senior cadet who held up three
fingers-"fifteen hundred hours. That's three o'clock. All clear? Blast off!"
Just as the boys began to move, there was a sudden blasting roar in the
distance. The noise expanded and rolled across the hills surrounding Space
Academy. It thundered over the grassy quadrangle, vibrating waves of sound
one on top of the other, until the very air quivered under the impact.
Mouths open, eyes popping, the cadet candidates stood rooted in their
tracks and stared as, in the distance, a long, thin, needlelike ship seemed to
balance delicately on a column of flame, then suddenly shoot skyward and
disappear.
"Pull in your eyeballs!" McKenny's voice crackled over the receding
thunder. "You'll fly one of those firecrackers some day. But right now you're
Earthworms, the lowest form of animal life in the Academy!"
As the boys snapped to attention again, Tom thought he caught a faint
smile on Cadet Herbert's face as he stood to one side waiting for McKenny to
finish his tirade. Suddenly he snapped his back straight, turned sharply and
stepped through the wide doors of the building. Quickly the double line of
boys followed.
"Did you see that, Astro?" asked Tom excitedly. "That was a Solar Guard
patrol ship!"
"Yeah, I know," replied Astro. The big candidate from Venus scratched his
chin and eyed Tom bashfully. "Say, Tom-ah, since we sort of know each
other, how about us trying to get in the same quarters?"
"O.K. by me, Astro, if we can," said Tom, grinning back at his friend.
The line pressed forward to Cadet Herbert, who was now waiting at the
bottom of the slidestairs, a mesh belt that spiraled upward in a narrow well to
the upper stories of the building. Speaking into an audioscriber, a machine
that transmitted his spoken words into typescript, he repeated the names of
the candidates as they passed.
"Cadet Candidate Tom Corbett," announced Tom, and Herbert repeated it
into the audioscriber.
"Cadet Candidate Astro!" The big Venusian stepped forward.
"What's the rest of it, Mister?" inquired Herbert.
"That's all. Just Astro."
"No other names?"
"No, sir," replied Astro. "You see-"
"You don't say 'sir' to a senior cadet, Mister. And we're not interested in
why you have only one name!" Herbert snapped.
"Yes, sir-uhh-Mister." Astro flushed and joined Tom.
Cadet Candidate Philip Morgan," announced the next boy.
Herbert repeated the name into the machine, then announced, "Cadet
Candidates Tom Corbett, Astro, and Philip Morgan assigned to Section 42-D."
Turning to the three boys, he indicated the spiraling slidestairs. "Forty-
second floor. You'll find Section D in the starboard wing."
Astro and Tom immediately began to pile Manning's luggage to one side
of the slidestairs.
"Take your luggage with you, Misters!" snapped Herbert.
"It isn't ours," replied Tom.
"Isn't yours?" Herbert glanced over the pile of suitcases and turned back
to Tom. "Whose is it then?"
"Belongs to Cadet Candidate Roger Manning," replied Tom.
"What are you doing with it?"
"We were carrying it for him."
"Do we have a candidate in the group who finds it necessary to provide
himself with valet service?"
Herbert moved along the line of boys.
"Will Cadet Candidate Roger Manning please step forward?"
Roger slid from behind a group of boys to face the senior cadet's cold
stare.
"Roger Manning here," he presented himself smoothly.
"Is that your luggage?" Herbert jerked his thumb over his shoulder,
"It is."
Roger smiled confidently, but Herbert merely stared coldly.
"You have a peculiar attitude for a candidate, Manning.”
"Is there a prescribed attitude, Mr. Herbert?" Roger asked, his smile
broadening. "If there is, I'll be only too glad to conform to it."
Herbert's face twitched almost imperceptibly. Then he nodded, made a
notation on a pad and returned to his post at the head of the gaping line of
boys. "From now on, Candidate Manning, you will be responsible for your own
belongings."
Tom, Astro, and Philip Morgan stepped on the slidestairs and began their
spiraling ascent to the forty-second floor.
"I saw what happened at the monorail station," drawled the third member
of Section 42-D, leaning against the banister of the moving belt. "By the
craters of Luna, that Manning felluh sure is a hot operator."
"We found out for ourselves," grunted Astro.
"Say, since we're all bunkin' togethuh, let's get to knowin' each othuh. My
name's Phil Morgan, come from Georgia. Where you all from?"
"New Chicago," replied Tom. "Name's Tom Corbett. And this is Astro."
"Hiya." Astro stuck out a big paw and grinned his wide grin. "I guess you
heard. Astro's all the name I've got."
"How come?" inquired the Southerner.
"I'm from Venus and it's a custom from way back when Venus was first
colonized to just hand out one name."
"Funny custom," drawled Phil.
Astro started to say something and then stopped, clamping his lips
together. Tom could see his face turn a slow pink. Phil saw it too, and hastily
added:
"Oh-I didn't mean anything. I-ah-" he broke off, embarrassed.
"Forget it, Phil." Astro grinned again.
"Say," interjected Tom. "Look at that!"
They all turned to look at the floor they were passing. Near the edge of
the step-off platform on the fourth floor was an oaken panel, inscribed with
silver lettering in relief. As they drew even with the plaque, they caught sight
of someone behind them. They turned to see Manning, the pile of suitcases in
front of him, reading aloud.
"... to the brave men who sacrificed their lives in the conquest of space,
this Galaxy Hall is dedicated...."
"Say, this must be the museum," said Tom. "Here's where they have all
the original gear used in the first space hops."
"Absolutely right," said Manning with a smile.
"I wonder if we could get off and take a look?" Astro asked.
"Sure you can," said Roger. "In fact, the Academy regs say every cadet
must inspect the exhibits in the space museum within the first week."
The members of Section 42-D looked at Roger questioningly.
"I don't know if we have time." Tom was dubious.
"Sure you have-plenty. I'd hop off and take a look myself but I've got to
get this junk ready to ship home." He indicated the pile of bags in front of him.
"Aw, come on, Tom, let's take a look!" urged Astro. "They have the old
Space Queen in here, the first ship to clear Earth's gravity. Boy, I'd sure like to
see her!" Without waiting for the others to agree, the huge candidate stepped
off the slidestairs.
"Hey, Astro!" yelled Tom. "Wait! I don't think-" His voice trailed off as the
moving stair carried him up to the next floor.
But then a curious thing happened. As other boys came abreast of the
museum floor and saw Astro they began to get off and follow him, wandering
around gazing at the relics of the past.
Soon nearly half of the cadet candidates were standing in silent awe in
front of the battered hull of the Space Queen, the first atomic-powered rocket
ship allowed on exhibition only fifty years before because of the deadly
radioactivity in her hull, created when a lead baffle melted in midspace and
flooded the ship with murderous gamma rays.
They stood in front of the spaceship and listened while Astro, in a hushed
voice, read the inscription on the bronze tablet.
"-Earth to Luna and return. 7th March 2051. In honor of the brave men of
the first atomic-powered spaceship to land successfully on the planet Moon,
only to perish on return to Earth...."
"Candidates-staaaaaaaaannnnnd too!"
Like a clap of thunder Warrant Officer McKenny's voice jarred the boys
out of their silence. He stepped forward like a bantam rooster and faced the
startled group of boys.
"I wanna know just one thing! Who stepped off that slidestairs first?"
The boys all hesitated.
"I guess I was the first, sir," said Astro, stepping forward.
"Oh, you guess you were, eh?" roared McKenny.
Taking a deep breath McKenny launched into a blistering tirade. His
choice of words were to be long remembered by the group and repeated to
succeeding classes. Storming against the huge Venusian like a pygmy
attacking an elephant, McKenny roared, berated and blasted.
Later, when Astro finally reached his quarters and changed into the green
coveralls of the cadet candidates, Tom and Phil crowded around him.
"It was Roger, blast him!" said Tom angrily. "He was getting back at you
because Cadet Herbert made him carry his own gear."
"I asked for it," grumbled Astro. "Ah, I should've known better. But I just
couldn't wait to see the Queen." He balled his huge hands into tight knots and
stared at the floor.
"Now hear this!!!"
A voice suddenly rasped over the PA system loudspeaker above the
door. "All cadet candidates will come to attention to receive the Space
Academy oath from Commander Walters." The voice paused. "AT-TENT-
SHUN! Cadet candidates-Staaaaannnnd TO!"
"This is Commander Walters speaking!" A deep, powerful voice purred
through the speaker. "The Academy oath is taken individually.
"It is something each candidate locks in his spirit, his mind and his heart.
That is why it is taken in your quarters. The oath is not a show of color, it is a
way of life. Each candidate will face as closely as possible in the direction of
his home and swear by his own individual God as he repeats after me."
Astro stepped quickly to the window port and gazed into the blue
heavens, eyes searching out the misty planet Venus. Phil Morgan thought a
moment, and faced toward the wall with the inlaid star chart of the sky,
thinking of sun-bathed Georgia. Tom Corbett stared straight at a blank wall.
Each boy did not see what was in front of him yet he saw further,
perhaps, than he had ever seen before. He looked into a future which held the
limitlessness of the universe and new worlds and planets to be lifted out of the
oblivion of uncharted depths of space to come.
They repeated slowly ...
"... I solemnly swear to uphold the Constitution of the Solar Alliance, to
obey interplanetary law, to protect the liberties of the planets, to safeguard the
freedom of space and to uphold the cause of peace throughout the universe
... to this end, I dedicate my life!"
CHAPTER 2
Tom Corbett's first day at Space Academy began at 0530 hours with the
blaring of the Cadet Corps Song over the central communicators:
"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
From the rocket fields of the ..."
Within sixty seconds, the buildings of the Academy rocked with the impact
of three thousand voices singing the last stanza. Lights flashed on in every
window. Cadets raced through the halls and across the quadrangle. The
central communicator began the incessant mustering of cadets, and the
never-ending orders of the day.
"... Unit 38-Z report to Captain Edwards for astrogation. Unit 68-E report
to Commander Walters for special assignments."
On and on, down the list of senior cadets, watch officers, and the newly
arrived Earthworms. Units and individuals to report for training or study in
everything from ground assembly of an atomic rocket motor, to the history of
the founding of the Solar Alliance, the governing body of the tri-planet
civilization.
Tom Corbett stepped out of the shower in Section 42-D and bellowed at
the top of his voice.
"Hit the deck, Astro! Make use of the gravity!" He tugged at an outsized
foot dangling over the side of an upper bunk.
"Uhhhh-ahhhh-hummmmm," groaned the cadet from Venus and tried to
go back to sleep.
Philip Morgan stepped into the shower, turned on the cold water,
screeched at the top of his voice, gradually trailing off into countless
repetitions of the last verse of the Academy song.
"Damp your tubes, you blasted space monkey," roared Astro, sitting up
bleary-eyed.
"What time do we eat?" asked Tom, pulling on the green one-piece
coverall of the Earthworm cadet candidates.
"I don't know," replied Astro, opening his mouth in a cavernous yawn. "But
it'd better be soon. I like space, but not between my backbone and my
stomach!"
Warrant Officer McKenny burst into the room and began to compete with
the rest of the noise outside the buildings.
"Five minutes to the dining hall and you'd better not be late! Take the
slidestairs down to the twenty-eighth floor. Tell the mess cadet in charge of
the hall your unit number and he'll show you to the right table. Remember
where it is, because you'll have to find it yourself after that, or not eat. Finish
your breakfast and report to the ninety-ninth floor to Dr. Dale at seven
hundred hours!"
And as fast as he had arrived, he was gone, a flash of red color with
rasping voice trailing behind.
Exactly one hour and ten minutes later, promptly at seven o'clock, the
three members of Unit 42-D stood at attention in front of Dr. Joan Dale, along
with the rest of the green-clad cadets.
When the catcalls and wolf whistles had died away, Dr. Dale, pretty, trim,
and dressed in the gold and black uniform of the Solar Guard, held up her
hand and motioned for the cadets to sit down.
"My answer to your-" she paused, smiled and continued, "your
enthusiastic welcome is simply-thank you. But we'll have no further
repetitions. This is Space Academy-not a primary school!"
Turning abruptly, she stood beside a round desk in the well of an
amphitheater, and held up a thin tube about an inch in diameter and twelve
inches long.
"We will now begin your classification tests," she said. "You will receive
one of these tubes. Inside, you will find four sheets of paper. You are to
answer all the questions on each paper and place them back in the tube.
Take the tube and drop it in the green outline slot in this wall."
She indicated a four-inch-round hole to her left, outlined with green paint.
Beside it, was another slot outlined with red paint. "Remain there until the
tube is returned to you in the red slot. Take it back to your desk." She paused
and glanced down at her desk.
"Now, there are four possible classifications for a cadet. Control-deck
officer, which includes leadership and command. Astrogation officer, which
includes radar and communications. And power-deck officer for engine-room
operations. The fourth classification is for advanced scientific study here at
the Academy. Your papers are studied by an electronic calculator that has
proven infallible. You must make at least a passing grade on each of the four
classifications."
Dr. Dale looked up at the rows of upturned, unsmiling faces and stepped
from the dais, coming to a halt near the first desk.
"I know that all of you here have your hearts set on becoming spacemen,
officers in the Solar Guard. Most of you want to be space pilots. But there
must be astrogators, radar engineers, communication officers and power-deck
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STANDBYFOKMARS!ByCAREYROCKWELLNo1intheTOMCORBETTSpaceCadetAdventureseries.Version1.0TheTomCorbettseries:STANDBYFORMARS!,1952DANGERINDEEPSPACE,1953ONTHETRAILOFTHESPACEPIRATES,1953THESPACEPIONEERS,1953THEREVOLTONVENUS,1954TREACHERYINOUTERSPACE,1955SABOTAGEINSPACE,1956THEROBOTROCKET,1956WITHTHISFIRSTBO...

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Carey Rockwell - Tom Corbett Space Cadet 01 - Stand By for Mars!.pdf

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分类：外语学习 价格：5.9玖币 属性：105 页 大小：262.97KB 格式：PDF 时间：2024-12-16

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