A low muted roar pulsed through the shipA low muted roar pulsed through the ship
"What did he have to say about this operation?"
"I can't repeat it for your young ears," said Roger.
"So bad, huh?"
"Yeah, but not because we're trying to save the ship."
"Then why?" asked Tom.
"He's afraid of losing a good unit!"
Tom smiled and turned to the control board. "Energize the cooling pumps!" he bawled to Astro over the intercom.
The slow whine of the pumps began to build to a shrieking pitch.
"Pumps in operation, Tom," said Astro.
"Cut in nose braking rockets," ordered Tom.
A low muted roar pulsed through the ship.
"Rockets on—we're moving backward, Tom," reported Astro.
And then suddenly Astro let out a roar. "Tom, the Geiger counter is going wild!"
"Never mind that now," answered Tom. "Sound off, Roger!" he yelled.
"Ship moving astern—one thousand feet a second—two thousand—four thousand—"
"I'm going to let her build to ten, Roger," yelled Tom. "We've only got one chance and we might as well make it a good one!"
"Six thousand!" yelled Roger. "Seven thousand!"
"Astro," bellowed Tom, "stand by to fire stern rockets!"
"Ready, Tom," was Astro's reply.
"Eight thousand," warned Roger. "Spaceman's luck, fellas!"
The silver ship moved through space away from thePolaris.
"Nine thousand," reported Roger. "And, Astro, I really love ya!"
"Cut nose braking rockets!" ordered Tom.
There was a sudden hush that seemed to be as loud as the noise of the rockets. The huge passenger ship,Lady Venus, was traveling through space as silent as a ghost.
"Nine thousand five hundred feet a second," yelled Roger.
"Stand by, Astro, Roger! Hang on tight, and spaceman's luck!"
"Ten thousand feet a second!" Roger's voice was a hoarse scream.
"Fire stern rockets!" bawled Tom.
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Under the tremendous drive of the stern rockets, the silver ship suddenly hurtled forward as if shot out of a cannon. The dangerous tube slid out of the stern of the ship and was quickly left behind as theLady Venussped in the opposite direction.
"That's it," yelled Tom, "hold full space speed! We dumped the tube, but we're still close enough for it to blow us from here to Pluto!"
"I tracked it on the radar, Tom," yelled Roger. "I think we're far enough away to miss—"
At that moment a tremendous flash of light filled the radar scanner as the mass exploded miles to the rear of theLady Venus.
"There it goes!" shouted Roger.
"Great jumping Jupiter," yelled Tom, "and we're still in one piece! We did it!"
From the power deck, Astro's bull-like roar could be heard through the whole ship.
"Gimme an open circuit, Tom," said Astro. "I want to operate the air blowers down here and try to get rid of some of that radiation. I have to get into the control chamber and see what's going on."
Tom flipped a switch on the board and set the ship on automatic flight. Then, turning to the teleceiver, he switched the set on.
"Lady VenustoPolaris—" said Tom, "come in,Polaris—come in!"
" ... Strong here on thePolaris!" the officer's voice crackled over the speaker. "By the rings of Saturn, I should log you three space-brained idiots for everything in the book!" Strong's face gradually focused on the teleceiver screen and he stared at Tom coldly. "That was the most foolish bit of heroics I've ever seen and if I had my way I'd—I'll—well—" The captain's glare melted into a smile. "I'll spend the rest of my life being known as the skipper of the three heroes! Well done, Corbett, it was foolish and dangerous, but well done!"
Tom, his face changing visibly with each change in Strong's attitude, finally broke out into a grin.
"Thank you, sir," said Tom, "but Astro and Roger did as much as I did."
"I'm sure they did," replied Strong. "Tell them I think it was one of the—the—" he thought a moment and then added, "darndest, most foolish things—most—"
"Yes, sir," said Tom, trying hard to control his face. He knew the moment for disciplining had passed, and that Captain Strong was just overwhelmed with concern for their safety.
"Stand by the air locks, Corbett, we're coming aboard again. We're pretty cramped for space here on thePolaris."
Just then Astro yelled up from the power deck.
"Hey, Tom!" he called. "If Captain Strong is thinking about putting those passengers back aboard, I think you'd better tell him about the radiation. I haven't been able to flush it all out yet. And since we only have three lead-lined suits...." He left the statement unfinished.
"I get you, Astro," replied Tom. He turned back tothe teleceiver and faced Strong. "Astro says the ship is still hot from radiation, sir. And that he hasn't been able to flush it out with the blowers."
"Ummmmh," mused Strong thoughtfully. "Well, in that case, stand by, Corbett. I'll get in touch with Commander Walters right away."
"Very well, sir," replied Tom. He turned from the teleceiver and climbed up to the radar deck.
"Well, hot-shot," said Roger, "looks like you've made yourself a hero this trip."
"What do you mean by that, Roger?"
"First, you run off with top honors on the space maneuvers, and now you save the ship and have Strong eating out of your hand!"
"That's not very funny, Roger," said Tom.
"I think it is," drawled Roger.
Tom studied the blond cadet for a moment.
"What's eating you, Roger? Since the day you came into the Academy, you've acted like you hated every minute of it. And yet, on the other hand, I've seen you act like it was the most important thing in your life. Why?"
"I told you once, Corbett," said Roger with the sneering air which Tom knew he used when he was on the defensive, "that I had my own special reasons for being here. I'mnota hero, Corbett! Never was and never will be. You're strictly the hero type. Tried and true, a thousand just like you all through the Academy and the Solar Guard. Strong is a hero type!"
"Then what about Al James?" asked Tom. "What about that time in Atom City when you defended the Academy?"
"Uh-uh," grunted Roger, "I wasn't defending the Academy. I was just avoiding a fight." He paused and eyed Tom between half-closed lids. "You'll never do anything I can't, or won't do, just as well, Tom. Thedifference between us is simple. I'm in the Academy for a reason, a special reason. You're here, like most of the other cadets, because you believe in it. That's the difference between you, me and Astro. You believe in it. I don't—I don't believe in anything but Roger Manning!"
Tom faced him squarely. "I'm not going to buy that, Roger! I don't think that's true. And the reasons I don't believe it are many. You have a chip on your shoulder, yes. But I don't think you're selfish or that you only believe in Manning. If you did, you wouldn't be here on theLady Venus. You had your chance to escape back in the rocket tube, but youcame back, Roger, and you made a liar out of yourself!"
"Hey, you guys!" yelled Astro, coming up behind them. "I thought we left that stuff back at the Academy?"
Tom turned to face the power-deck cadet. "What's cooking below, Astro? Were you able to get rid of the radiation?"
"Naw!" replied the cadet from Venus. "Too hot! Couldn't even open the hatch. It'll take a special job with the big equipment at the space shipyards. We need their big blowers and antiradiation flushers to clean this baby up."
"Then I'd better tell Captain Strong right away. He's going to get in touch with Commander Walters at the Academy for orders."
"Yeah, you're right," said Astro. "There isn't a chance of getting those people back aboard here now. Once we opened up that outer control deck to dump that tube, the whole joint started buzzing with radioactive electrons."
Tom turned to the ladder leading to the control deck and disappeared through the hatch, leaving Astro and Roger alone.
"What was that little bit of space gas about, Roger?"
"Ah—nothing," replied Roger. "Just a little argument on who was the biggest hero." Roger smiled and waved a hand in a friendly gesture. "Tom won, two to one!"
"He sure handled that control deck like he had been born here, all right," said Astro. "Well, I've got to take a look at those motors. We'll be doing something soon, and whatever it is, we'll need those power boxes to get us where we want to go."
"Yeah," said Roger, "and I've got to get a course and a position." He turned to the chart screen and began plotting rapidly. Down on the control deck, Strong was listening to Tom.
" ... and Astro said we'd need the special equipment at the space shipyards to clean out the radiation, sir. If we took passengers aboard and it suddenly shot up—well, we only have the three lead-lined suits to protect us."
"Very well, Corbett," replied Strong. "I've just received orders from Commander Walters to proceed to Mars with both ships. I'll blast off now and you three follow along on theLady Venus. Any questions?"
"I don't have any, sir," Tom said, "but I'll check with Roger and Astro to see if they have any."
Tom turned to the intercom and informed the radar and power-deck cadets of their orders, and asked if there were any questions. Both replied that everything on the ship was ready to blast off immediately. Tom turned back to the teleceiver.
"No questions, sir," reported Tom. "We're all set to blast off."
"Very well, Corbett," said Strong. "I'm going to make as much speed as possible to get these people on Mars. The crew of theLady Venuswill take over the radar and power decks."
"O.K., sir, and spaceman's luck!" said Tom. "We'll see you on Mars!"
Tom stood beside the crystal port on the control deck and watched the rocket cruiserPolaris' stern glow red from her jets, and then quickly disappear into the vastness of space, visible only as a white blip on the radar scanner.
"Get me a course to Mars, Roger," said Tom. "Astro, stand by to blast off with as much speed as you can safely get out of this old wagon, and stand by for Mars!"
The two cadets quickly reported their departments ready, and following the course Roger plotted, Astro soon had theLady Venusblasting through space, heading for Mars!
Mars, fourth planet in order from the Sun, loomed like a giant red gem against a perfect backdrop of deep-black space. TheLady Venus, rocketing through the inky blackness, a dull red glow from her three remaining rockets, blasted steadily ahead to the planet that was crisscrossed with wide spacious canals.
"Last time I was on Mars," said Astro to Tom and Roger over a cup of tea, "was about two years ago. I was bucking rockets on an old tub called theSpace Plunger. It was on a shuttle run from the Martian south pole to Venusport, hauling vegetables. What a life! Burning up on Venus and then freezing half to death at the south pole on Mars." Astro shook his head as the vivid memory took him back for a moment.
"From what I hear," said Tom, "there isn't much to see but the few cities, the mountains, the deserts and the canals."
"Yeah," commented Roger, "big deal! Rocket into the wild depths of space and see the greatest hunk of wasteland in the universe!"
The three boys were silent, listening to the steady hum of the rockets, driving them forward toward Mars. For four days they had traveled on theLady Venus, enjoying the many luxuries found on the passenger ship. Now, with their destination only a few hours away, they were having a light snack before making a touchdown on Mars.
"You know," said Tom quietly, "I've been thinking. As far back as the twentieth century, Earthmen have wanted to get to Mars. And finally they did. And what have they found? Nothing but a planet full of dry sand, a few canals and dwarf mountains."
"That's exactly what I've been saying!" said Roger. "The only man who ever got anything out of all this was the first man to make it to Mars and return. He got the name, the glory, and a paragraph in a history book! And after that, nothing!" He got up and climbed the ladder to the radar deck, leaving Astro and Tom alone.
Suddenly the ship lurched to one side.
"What's that?" cried Tom.
A bell began to ring. Then another—and then three more. Finally the entire ship was vibrating with the clanging of emergency bells.
Astro made a diving leap for the ladder leading down to the power deck, with Tom lunging for the control board.
Quickly Tom glanced about the huge board with its many different gauges and dials, searching for the one that would indicate the trouble. His eye spotted a huge gauge. A small light beside it flashed off and on. "By the moons of Jupiter, we've run out of reactant fuel!"
"Tom!—Tom!" shouted Astro from the power deck. "We're smack out of reactant feed!"
"Isn't there any left at all?" asked Tom. "Not even enough to get us into Marsopolis?"
"We haven't enough left to keep the generator going!" said Astro. "Everything, including the lights and the teleceiver, will go any minute!"
"Then we can't change course!"
"Right," drawled Roger. "And if we can't change course, the one we're on now will take us straight into Mars's gravity and we crash!"
"Send out an emergency call right away, Roger," said Tom.
"Can't, spaceboy," replied Roger in his lazy drawl. "Not enough juice to call for help. Or haven't you noticed you're standing in the dark?"
"But how—how could this happen?" asked Tom, puzzled. "We were only going at half speed and using just three rockets!"
"When we got rid of that hot tube back in space," explained Astro grimly, "we dumped the main reactant mass. There isn't a thing we can do!"
"We've got one choice," said Tom hollowly. "We can either pile out now, in space suits and use the jet boat, and hope for someone to pick us up before the oxygen gives out, or we can ride this space wagon right on in. Make up your minds quick, we're already inside Mars's gravity pull!"
There was a pause, then Astro's voice filled the control deck. "I'll ride this baby right to the bottom. If I'm going to splash in, I'll take it on solid ground, even if it is Mars and not Venus. I don't want to wash out in space!"
"That goes for me, too," said Roger.
"O.K.," said Tom. "Here we go. Just keep your fingers crossed that we hit the desert instead of the mountains, or we'll be smeared across those rocks like applesauce. Spaceman's luck, fellas!"
"Spaceman's luck, both of you," said Astro.
"Just plain ordinary luck," commented Roger, "and plenty of it!"
The three boys quickly strapped themselves into acceleration seats, with Tom hooking up an emergency relay switch that he could hold in his hand. He hoped he would remain conscious long enough to throw the switch and start the water sprinkler in case the ship caught fire.
TheLady Venusflashed into the thin atmosphere from the void of space and the three cadets imagined that they could hear the shriek of the ship as it cut through the thin air. Tom figured his speed rapidly, and counting on the thinness of the atmosphere, he estimated that it would take eleven seconds for the ship to crash. He began to count.
" ... One—two—three—four—five—" he thought briefly of his family and how nice they had been to him " ... six—seven—eight—nine—ten—"
The ship crashed.
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"Astro! Roger!" yelled Tom. He opened his eyes and then felt the weight on his chest. A section of the control board had fallen across him pinning his left arm to his side. He reached for the railing around the acceleration chair with his right and discovered he still held the switch for the water sprinkler. He started to flip it on, then sniffed the air, and smelling no trace of smoke, dropped the switch. He unstrapped himself from the acceleration chair with his right hand and then slowly, with great effort, pushed the section of the control board off him. He stood up rubbing his left arm.
"Astro? Roger?!" he called again, and scrambled over the broken equipment that was strewn over the deck. He stumbled over more rubble that was once a precision instrument panel and climbed the ladder leading to the radar deck.
"Roger!" he yelled. "Roger, are you all right?" He pushed several shattered instruments out of the way and looked around the shambles that once had been a room. He didn't see Roger.
He began to scramble through the litter on the deck, kicking aside instruments that were nearly priceless, so delicately were they made. Suddenly a wave of cold fear gripped him and he began tearing through therubble desperately. From beneath a heavy tube casing, he could see the outstretched arm of Roger.
He squatted down, bending his legs and keeping his back straight. Then gripping the heavy casing on one side, he tried to stand up. It was too much for him. He lifted it three inches and then had to let go.
"Tom! Roger!" Tom heard the bull-like roar of Astro below him and stumbled over to the head of the ladder.
"Up here, Astro," he yelled, "on the radar deck. Roger's pinned under the radar scanner casing!"
Tom turned back to the casing, and looking around the littered deck desperately, grabbed an eight-foot length of steel pipe that had been snapped off like a twig by the force of the crash.
Barely able to lift it, he shoved it with all his strength to get the end of the pipe beneath the casing.
"Here, let me get at that thing," growled Astro from behind. Tom stepped back, half falling out of the Venusian's way, and watched as Astro got down on his hands and knees, putting his shoulder against the case. He lifted it about three inches, then slowly, still balancing the weight on his shoulder, shifted his position, braced it with his hands and began to straighten up. The casing came up from the floor as the huge cadet strained against it.
"All—right—Tom—" he gasped, "see if you can get a hold on Roger and pull him out!"
Tom scrambled back and grabbed Roger's uniform. He pulled, and slowly the cadet's form slid from beneath the casing.
"All right, Astro," said Tom, "I've got 'im."
Astro began to lower the casing in the same manner in which he had lifted it. He eased it back down to the floor on his knees and dropped it the last few inches. He sat on the floor beside it and hung his head between his knees.
"Are you all right, Astro?" asked Tom.
"Never mind me," panted Astro between deep gasps for breath, "just see if hot-shot is O.K."
Tom quickly ran his hands up and down Roger's arms and legs, his chest, collarbone and at last, with gently probing fingers, his head.
"No broken bones," he said, still looking at Roger, "but I don't know about internal injuries."
"He wasn't pinned under that thing," said Astro at last. "It was resting on a beam. No weight was on him."
"Uh—huh—ahhh—uhhhh," moaned Roger.
"Roger," said Tom gently, "Roger, are you all right?"
"Uh—huh?—Ohhhh! My head!"
"Take it easy, hot-shot," said Astro, "that head of yours is O.K. Nothing—butnothingcould hurt it!"
"Ooohhhh!" groaned Roger, sitting up. "I don't know which is worse, feeling the way I do, or waking up and listening to you again!"
Tom sat back with a smile. Roger's remark clinched it. No one was hurt.
"Well," said Astro at last, "where do we go from here?"
"First thing I suggest we do is take a survey and see what's left," said Tom.
"I came up from the power deck," said Astro, "all the way through the ship. You see this radar deck?" He made a sweeping gesture around the room that looked like a junk heap. "Well, it's in good shape, compared to the rest of the ship. The power deck has the rocket motors where the master panel should be and the panel is ready to go into what's left of the reactant chamber. The jet boat is nothing but a worthless piece of junk!"
The three boys considered the fate of the jet boat soberly. Finally Astro broke the silence with a question. "Where do you think we are?"
"Somewhere in the New Sahara desert," answeredTom. "I had the chart projector on just before we splashed in, but I can't tell you any more than that."
"Well, at least we have plenty of water," sighed Roger.
"Youhadplenty of water. The tanks were smashed when we came in. Not even a puddle left in a corner."
"Of course it might rain," said Roger.
Tom gave a short laugh. "The last time it rained in this place dinosaurs were roaming around on Earth!"
"How about food?" asked Roger.
"Plenty of that," answered Astro. "This is a passenger ship, remember! They have everything you could ask for, including smoked Venusian fatfish!"
"Then let's get out of here and take a look," said Tom.
The three bruised but otherwise healthy cadets climbed slowly down to the control deck and headed for the galley, where Tom found six plastic containers of Martian water.
"Spaceman, this is the biggest hunk of luck we've had in the last two hours," said Roger, taking one of the containers.
"Why two hours, Roger?" asked Astro, puzzled.
"Two hours ago we were still in space expecting to splash in," said Tom. He opened one of the containers and offered it to Astro. "Take it easy, Astro," said Tom. "Unless we find something else to drink, this might have to last a long time."
"Yeah," said Roger, "alongtime. I've been thinking about our chances of getting out of this mess."
"Well," asked Astro, "what has the great Manning brain figured out?"
"There's no chance at all," said Roger slowly. "You're wrong, Corbett, about this being midday. It's early morning!" He pointed to a chronometer on the bulkhead behind Astro. "It's still running. I made a mental note before we splashed in, it was eight-O-seven. Thatclock says nine-O-three. It doesn't begin to get hot here until three o'clock in the afternoon."
"I think you're wrong two ways," said Tom. "In the first place, Captain Strong probably has a unit out looking for us right now. And in the second place, as long as we stay with the ship, we've got shade. That sun is only bad because the atmosphere is thinner here on Mars, and easier to burn through. But if we stay out of the sun, we're O.K. Just sit back and wait for Strong!"
Roger shrugged his shoulders.
"Well," commented Astro with a grin, "I'm not going to sit around waiting for Strong without eating!" He tore open a plastic package of roast-beef sandwiches and began eating. Tom measured out three small cups of Martian water.
"After we eat," suggested Roger, "I think we ought to take a look around outside and try to set up an identification signal."
"That's a good idea," said Tom, "but don't you think the ship itself is big enough for that?"
"Yeah," answered Roger, "I guess you're right."
"Boy!" said Astro. "We sure are lucky to still be able to argue."
"That's about all you can call it. Luck! Spaceman's luck!" said Tom. "The only reason I can figure why we didn't wind up as permanent part of the scenery around here is because of the course we were on."
"How do you figure that?" asked Astro.
"Luckily—and Imeanluckily, we were on a course that took us smack onto the surface of Mars. And our speed was great enough to resist the gravity pull of the planet, keeping us horizontal with the surface of the desert. We skidded in like a kid does on a sled, instead of coming in on our nose!"
"Well, blast my jets!" said Astro softly.
"In that case," said Roger, "we must have left a pretty long skid mark in back of us!"
"That should be easy to see when the jet scouts come looking for us," commented Astro.
"I wonder if we could rig up some sort of emergency signal so we could send out a relative position?"
"How are you going to get the position?" asked Astro.
"I can give you some sort of position as soon as I get outside and take a sight on the sun," replied Roger.
"Can you do it without your astrogation prism?" asked Astro.
"Navigation, not astrogation, Astro," said Roger. "Like the ancient sailors used on the oceans back on Earth hundreds of years ago. Only thing is, I'll have to work up the logarithms by hand, instead of using the computer. Might be a little rough, but it'll be close enough for what we want."
The three cadets finished the remaining sandwiches and then picked their way back through the ship to the control deck. There, they rummaged through the pile of broken and shattered instruments.
"If we could find just one tube that hasn't been damaged, I think I might be able to rig up some sort of one-lung communications set," said Roger. "It might have enough range to get a message to the nearest atmosphere booster station."
"Nothing but a pile of junk here, Roger," said Tom. "We might find something on the radar deck."
The three members of thePolarisunit climbed over the rubble and made their way to the radar deck, and started their search for an undamaged tube. After forty-five minutes of searching, Roger stood up in disgust.
"Nothing!" he said sourly.
"That kills any hope of getting a message out," said Tom.
"By the craters of Luna," said Astro, wiping his forehead. "I didn't notice it before, but it's getting hotter here than on the power deck on a trip to Mercury!"
"Do we have any flares?" asked Roger.
"Naw. Al James used them all," answered Tom.
"That does it," said Roger. "In another couple of hours, when and if anyone shows up, all they'll find is three space cadets fried on the half shell of a spaceship!"
"Listen, Roger," said Tom, "as soon as we fail to check in, the whole Mars Solar Guard fleet will be out looking for us. Our last report will show them we were heading in this direction. It won't take Captain Strong long to figure out that we might have run out of fuel, and, with that skid mark in the sand trailing back for twenty miles, all we have to do is stick with the ship and wait for them to show up!"
"What's that?" asked Astro sharply.
From a distance, the three cadets could hear a low moaning and wailing. They rushed to the crystal port and looked out on the endless miles of brown sand, stretching as far as the horizon and meeting the cloudless blue sky. Shimmering in the heat, the New Sahara desert of Mars was just beginning to warm up for the day under the bleaching sun. The thin atmosphere offered little protection against the blazing heat rays.
"Nothing but sand," said Tom. "Maybe something is still hot on the power deck." He looked at Astro.
"I checked it before I came topside," said Astro. "I've heard that noise before. It can only mean one thing."
"What's that?" asked Roger.
Astro turned quickly and walked to the opposite side of the littered control deck. He pushed a pile of junk out of the way for a clear view of the outside.
"There's your answer," said Astro, pointing at the port.
"By the rings of Saturn, look at that!" cried Tom.
"Yeah," said Roger, "black as the fingernails of a Titan miner!"
"That's a sandstorm," Astro said finally. "It blows as long as a week and can pile up sand for two hundred feet. Sometimes the velocity reaches as much as a hundred and sixty miles an hour. Once, in the south, we got caught in one, and it was so bad we had to blast off. And it took all the power we had to do it!"
The three cadets stood transfixed as they gazed through the crystal port at the oncoming storm. The tremendous black cloud rolled toward the spaceship in huge folds that billowed upward and back in three-thousand-foot waves. The roar and wail of the wind grew louder, rising in pitch until it was a shrill scream.
"We'd better get down to the power deck," said Tom, "and take some oxygen bottles along with us, just in case. Astro, bring the rest of the Martian water and you grab several of those containers of food, Roger. We might be holed in for a long time."
"Why go down to the power deck?" asked Roger.
"There's a huge hole in the upper part of the ship's hull. That sand will come in here by the ton and there's nothing to stop it," Tom answered Roger, but kept his eyes on the churning black cloud. Already, the first gusts of wind were lashing at the strickenLady Venus.
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"You think it'll last much longer?" asked Astro.
"I don't know, old fellow," replied Tom.
"You know, sometimes you can hear the wind even through the skin of the ship," commented Roger.
For two days the cadets of thePolarisunit had been held prisoner in the power deck while the violence of the New Sahara sandstorm raged around them outside the ship. For a thousand square miles the desert was a black cloud of churning sand, sweeping across the surface of Mars like a giant shroud.
After many attempts to repair a small generator, Astro finally succeeded, only to discover that he had no means of running the unit. His plan was to relieve the rapidly weakening emergency batteries with a more steady source of power.
While Astro occupied himself repairing the generator, Tom and Roger had slept, but after the first day, when sleep would no longer come, they resorted to playing checkers with washers and nuts on a board scratched on the deck.
"Think it's going to let up soon?" asked Roger.
"They've been known to last for a week or more," said Astro.
"Wonder if Strong has discovered we're missing?" mused Roger.
"Sure he has," replied Tom. "He's a real spaceman. Can smell out trouble like a telemetered alarm system."
Astro got up and stretched. "I'll bet we're out of this five hours after the sand settles down."
The big Venusian walked to the side of the power deck and pressed his ear against the hull, listening for the sound of the wind.
After a few seconds he turned back. "I can't hear a thing, fellas. I have a feeling it's about played itself out."
"Of course," reasoned Tom, "we have no real way of knowing when it's stopped and when it hasn't."
"Want to open the hatch and take a look?" asked Astro.
Tom looked questioningly at Roger, who nodded his head in agreement.
Tom walked over to the hatch and began undogging the heavy door. As the last of the heavy metal bars were raised, sand began to trickle inside around the edges. Astro bent down and sifted a handful through his fingers. "It's so fine, it's like powder," he said as it fell to the deck in a fine cloud.
"Come on," said Tom, "give me a hand with this hatch. It's probably jammed up against sand on the other side."
Tom, Roger and Astro braced their shoulders against the door, but when they tried to push, they lost their footing and slipped down. Astro dragged over a section of lead baffle, jammed it between the rocket motors and placed his feet up against it. Tom and Roger got on either side of him and pressed their shoulders against the door.
"All right," said Tom. "When I give the word, let's all push together. Ready?"
"All set," said Astro.
"Let's go," said Roger.
"O.K.—then—one—two—three—push!"
Together, the three cadets strained against the heavy steel hatch. The muscles in Astro's legs bulged into knots as he applied his great weight and strength against the door. Roger, his face twisted into a grimace from the effort, finally slumped to the floor, gasping for breath.
"Roger," asked Tom quickly, "are you all right?"
Roger nodded his head but stayed where he was, breathing deeply. Finally recovering his strength, he rose and stood up against the hatch with his two unit-mates.
"You and Roger just give a steady pressure, Tom," said Astro. "Don't try to push it all at once. Slow and steady does it! That way you get more out of your effort."
"O.K.," said Tom. Roger nodded. Again they braced themselves against the hatch.
"One—two—three—push!" counted Tom.
Slowly, applying the pressure evenly, they heaved against the steel hatch. Tom's head swam dizzily, as the blood raced through his veins.
"Keep going," gasped Astro. "I think it's giving a little!"
Tom and Roger pushed with the last ounce of strength in their bodies, and after a final desperate effort, slumped to the floor breathless. Astro continued to push, but a moment later, relaxed and slipped down beside Tom and Roger.
They sat on the deck for nearly five minutes gasping for air.
"Like—" began Roger, "like father—like son!" He blurted the words out bitterly.
"Like who?" asked Astro.
"Like my father," said Roger in a hard voice. He got up and walked unsteadily over to the oxygen bottle andkicked it. "Empty!" he said with a harsh laugh. "Empty and we only have one more bottle. Empty as my head the day I got into this space-happy outfit!"
"You going to start that again!" growled Astro. "I thought you had grown out of your childish bellyaching about the Academy." Astro eyed the blond cadet with a cold eye. "And now, just because you're in a tough spot, you start whining again!"
"Knock it off, Astro," snapped Tom. "Come on. Let's give this hatch another try. I think it gave a little on that last push."
"Never-say-die Corbett!" snarled Roger. "Let's give it the old try for dear old Space Academy!"
Tom whirled around and stood face to face with Manning.
"I think maybe Astro's right, Roger," he said coldly. "I think you're a foul ball, a space-gassing hot-shot that can't take it when the chips are down!"
"That's right," said Roger coldly. "I'm just what you say! Go ahead, push against that hatch until your insides drop out and see if you can open it!" He paused and looked directly at Tom. "If that sand has penetrated inside the ship far enough and heavily enough to jam that hatch, you can imagine what is on top, outside! A mountain of sand! And we're buried under it with about eight hours of oxygen left!"
Tom and Astro were silent, thinking about the truth in Roger's words. Roger walked slowly across the deck and stood in front of them defiantly.
"You were counting on the ship being spotted by Captain Strong or part of a supposed searching party! Ha! What makes you think three cadets are so important that the Solar Guard will take time out to look for us? And if theydocome looking for us, the only thing left up there now"—he pointed his finger over his head—"is a pile of sand like any other sand dune on thiscrummy planet. We're stuck, Corbett, so lay off that last chance, do-or-die routine. I've been eating glory all my life. If I do have to splash in now, I want it to be on my own terms. And that's to just sit here and wait for it to come. And if they pin the Medal—the Solar Medal—on me, I'm going to be up there where all good spacemen go, having the last laugh, when they put my name alongside my father's!"
"Your father's?" asked Tom bewilderedly.
"Yeah, my father. Kenneth Rogers Manning, Captain in the Solar Guard. Graduate of Space Academy, class of 2329, killed while on duty in space, June 2335. Awarded the Solar Medalposthumously. Leaving a widow and one son,me!"
Astro and Tom looked at each other dumfounded.
"Surprised, huh?" Roger's voice grew bitter. "Maybe that clears up a few things for you. Like why I never missed on an exam. I never missed because I've lived with Academy textbooks since I was old enough to read. Or why I wanted the radar deck instead of the control deck. I didn't want to have to make a decision! My father had to make a decision once. As skipper and pilot of the ship he decided to save a crewman's life. He died saving a bum, a no good space-crawling rat!"
Tom and Astro sat stupefied at Roger's bitter tirade. He turned away from them and gave a short laugh.
"I've lived with only one idea in my head since I was big enough to know why other kids had fathers to play ball with them and I didn't. To get into the Academy, get the training and then get out and cash in! Other kids had fathers. All I had was a lousy hunk of gold, worth exactly five hundred credits! A Solar Medal. And my mother! Trying to scrape by on a lousy pension that was only enough to keep us going, but not enough to get me the extra things other kids had. It couldn't bring back my father!"
"That night—in Galaxy Hall, when you were crying—?" asked Tom.
"So eavesdropping is one of your talents too, eh, Corbett?" asked Roger sarcastically.
"Now, wait a minute, Roger," said Astro, getting up.
"Stay out of this, Astro!" snapped Roger. He paused and looked back at Tom. "Remember that night on the monorail going into Atom City? That man Bernard who bought dinner for us? He was a boyhood friend of my father's. He didn't recognize me, and I didn't tell him who I was because I didn't want you space creeps to know that much about me. And remember, when I gave Al James the brush in that restaurant in Atom City? He was talking about the old days, and he might have spilled the beans too. It all adds up, doesn't it? I had a reason I told you and it's just this! To make Space Academy pay me back! To train me to be one of the best astrogators in the universe so I could go into commercial ships and pile up credits! Plenty of credits and have a good life, and be sure my mother had a good life—what's left of it. And the whole thing goes right back to when my father made the decision to let a space rat live, and die in his place! So leave me alone with your last big efforts—and grandstand play for glory. From now on, keep your big fat mouth shut!"
"I—I don't know what to say, Roger," began Tom.
"Don't try to say anything, Tom," said Astro. There was a coldness in his voice that made Tom turn around and stare questioningly at the big Venusian.
"You can't answer him because you came from a good home. With a mom and pop and brother and sister. You had it good. You were lucky, but I don't hold it against you because you had a nice life and I didn't." Astro continued softly, "You can't answer Mr. Hot-shot Manning, but I can!"
"What do you mean?" asked Tom.
"I mean that Manning doesn't know what it is to really have it tough!"
"You got arealhard luck story, eh, big boy?" snarled Roger.
"Yeah, I have!" growled Astro. "I got one that'll make your life look like a spaceman's dream. At least youknowabout your father. And you lived with your mother. I didn't haveanything—nothing! Did you hear that, Manning? I didn't even have a pair of shoes, until I found a kid at the Venusport spaceport one day and figured his shoes would fit me. I beat the space gas out of him and took his shoes. And then they were so tight, they hurt my feet. I don't know who my father was, nothing about him, except that he was a spaceman. A rocket buster, like me. And my mother? She died when I was born. Since I can remember, I've been on my own. When I was twelve, I was hanging around the spaceport day and night. I learned to buck rockets by going aboard when the ships were cradled for repairs, running dry runs, going through the motions, I talked to spacemen—all who would listen to me. I lied about my age, and because I was a big kid, I was blasting off when I was fifteen. What little education I've got, I picked up listening to the crew talk on long hops and listening to every audioslide I could get my hands on. I've had it tough. And because Ihavehad it tough, I want to forget about it. I don't want to be reminded what it's like to be so hungry that I'd go out into jungles and trap small animals and take a chance on meeting a tyrannosaurus. So lay off that stuff about feeling sorry for yourself. And about Tom being a hero, because with all your space gas you still can't take it! And if you don't want to fight to live, then go lie down in the corner and just keep your big mouth shut!"
Tom stood staring at the big cadet. His head jutted forward from his shoulders, the veins in his neck standingout like thick cords. He knew Astro had been an orphan, but he had never suspected the big cadet's life had been anything like that which he had just described.
Roger had stood perfectly still while Astro spoke. Now, as the big cadet walked back to the hatch and nervously began to examine the edges with his finger tips, Roger walked over and stood behind him.
"Well, you knuckle-headed orphan," said Roger, "are you going to get us out of here, or not?"
Astro whirled around, his face grim, his hands balled into fists, ready to fight. "What's that, Mann—?" He stopped. Roger was smiling and holding out his hand.
"Whether you like it or not, you poor little waif, you've just made yourself a friend."
Tom came up to them and leaned against the door casually. "When you two stop gawking at each other like long-lost brothers," he said lazily, "suppose we try to figure a way out of this dungeon."