_Her nose pointed skyward, the_ Polaris _was ready to blast off_
_Her nose pointed skyward, the_ Polaris _was ready to blast off_
Reaching thePolaris, the three cadets scrambledthrough the air lock into the spaceship and prepared for blast-off.
On the control deck, Tom began the involved check of the control panel. One by one, he tested the dials, gauges, and indicators on the instrument panel that was the brains of the mighty ship.
On the radar bridge, above the control deck, Roger adjusted the sights of the precious astrogation prism and took a checking sight on the Pole Star to make sure the instrument was in true alignment. Then turning to the radar scanner, the all-seeing eye of the ship, he began a slow, deliberate tracking of each circuit in the maze of wiring.
And below on the power deck, Astro, stripped to the waist, a leather belt filled with the rocketman's wrenches and tools slung around his hips, tuned up the mighty atomic engines. He took longer than usual, making sure the lead baffling around the reactor units and the reaction chamber was secure, before firing the initial mass.
Finally Tom's voice crackled over the intercom, "Control deck to all stations. Check in!"
"Radar bridge, aye!" came Roger's reply. "Ready for blast-off!"
"Power deck, aye!" said Astro, his booming voice echoing through the ship. "Ready for blast-off!"
"Control deck, ready for blast-off," said Tom, and then turned to the logbook and jotted down the time in the ship's journal. The astral chronometer over the control board read exactly 1350 hours.
Fifteen minutes later Captain Strong and Governor Hardy climbed aboard and Tom received the order to raise ship.
The young curly-haired cadet turned to the control board and flipped on the teleceiver. "Rocket cruiserPolaristo spaceport control tower," he called. "Request blast-off orbit and clearance!"
The traffic-control officer in the spaceport tower answered immediately. "Control tower toPolaris. You are cleared for blast-off at 1405 hours, orbital tangent 867."
Tom repeated the instructions and turned to the intercom and began snapping out orders. "Power deck, energize the cooling pumps!"
"Power deck, aye!" replied Astro. The slow whine of the powerful pumps began to scream through the ship. Tom watched the pressure indicator and when it reached the blast-off mark called to Roger for clearance.
"All clear, forward and up!" declared Roger.
"Feed reactant at D-9 rate!" ordered Tom. And far below on the power deck, Astro began to feed the reactant energy into the firing chambers.
Hardy looked at Strong and nodded in appreciation of the cadets' smooth efficient work. They strapped themselves into acceleration cushions and watched the red second hand of the astral chronometer sweep around, and then heard Tom counting off the seconds.
"Blast off—" bawled Tom, "minus five—four—three—two—one—zeroooo!"
The giant ship lurched off the blast-off platform a few feet, the exhaust of the powerful rockets deflected against the concrete surface. Then, poised delicately on the roaring rockets, the mighty ship picked up speed and began to accelerate through the atmosphere.
Pushed deep in his acceleration chair in front of the control board, unable to move because of the tremendous pressure against his body, Tom Corbett thought about his new adventure. And as the ship hurtled into the black velvet depths of space, he wondered what the future held for him as he and his unit mates began a new adventure among the stars.
"Control deck to power deck, check in!" Tom's voice crackled over the power-deck loud-speaker and Astro snapped to quick attention.
"Power deck, aye!" replied the giant Venusian into the intercom microphone. "What's up?"
"Stand by for course change," said Tom. "Roger's picked up a meteor on the radar scanner and—"
"Here's the course change," Roger's voice broke in over the intercom. "Three degrees up on the plane of the ecliptic and five degrees starboard!"
"Get that, Astro?" snapped Tom. "Stand by for one-quarter burst on steering rockets!"
"One-quarter—right!" acknowledged the power-deck cadet and turned to the massive panel that controlled the rockets.
On the control deck Tom Corbett continued talking to Roger. "Relay the pickup to the control-deck scanner, Roger," he ordered. "Let me take a look at that thing."
In a moment the thin sweeping white line on the control-deck scanner swept around the green surface of the screen, picking out the blip that marked the meteor. Tom watched it for a moment and then barked into the intercom, "Stand by to execute change course!"
He watched the meteor a few more seconds, makingsure the course change would take them out of its path, and then gave the command. "Fire!"
Before he could draw another breath, Tom felt himself pressed into his seat as thePolarisquickly accelerated and curved up and away from the onrushing meteor in a long, smooth arc.
Captain Strong suddenly stepped through the hatch into the control deck. Glancing quickly at the scanner screen, he saw the white blip that was the meteor flashing away from thePolarisand he smiled.
"That was nice work, Corbett!" said Strong. "Get us back on course as soon as you can. Governor Hardy wants to get to Venusport as quickly as possible."
"Shall I tell Astro to pour on extra thrust, sir?" asked Tom.
"No, just maintain standard full space speed. No need to use emergency power unless it's really an emergency."
"Yes, sir," said Tom.
Strong walked around on the control deck, making a casual check of the ship's operation. But he knew he wouldn't find anything to complain about. Past experience had taught him that the three cadets kept a tight ship. At the sound of the hatch opening, he turned to see Governor Hardy standing just inside the hatch.
"I have to compliment you, Captain," Hardy said as he watched Tom operate the great control panel. "Your cadets really know their business. You've trained them well."
"Thank you, sir," replied Strong, "but they did it themselves. One thing I've learned since I've become an instructor at the Academy and that is you can't make a spaceman. He's born with the feeling and the instinct, or he isn't a spaceman."
Hardy nodded. "I've got some important messages tosend out, Captain. I'd like to use the teleceiver for a while."
"Of course, sir," said Strong. "Right up that ladder there." The Solar Guard captain pointed to the ladder leading to the radar deck. "Manning's on duty now and will take care of you, sir."
"Thank you," said the governor, turning to the ladder.
A moment later, as Captain Strong and Tom were idly discussing the forthcoming screening operations on Venusport, they were surprised to see Roger climb down the ladder from the radar bridge.
"What are you doing down here, Manning?" inquired Strong. "I thought you were sending out messages for Governor Hardy."
Roger dropped into the co-control pilots' seat and shrugged. "The governor said he'd handle it. Said the messages were top secret and that he wouldn'tburdenme with their contents, since he knew how to operate a teleceiver!"
Puzzled, Tom looked at Roger. "What could be so secret about this mission?" he asked.
"I don't know," answered Roger. "After that speech the president of the Solar Council made the other night, the whole Alliance must know about the project, the screening, and practically everything else."
Strong laughed. "You space brats see adventure and mystery in everything. Now, why wouldn't a man in charge of a project as large as this have secret messages? He might be talking to the president of the council!"
Tom blushed. "You're right, sir," he said. "I guess I let my imagination run riot."
"Just concentrate on getting this wagon to Venus in one piece, Corbett, and leave the secret messages to the governor," joked Strong. "And any time you get too suspicious, just remember that the governor was appointed head of this project by the Solar Alliance itself!"
Blasting through space, leaving a trail of atomic exhaust behind her, thePolarisrocketed smoothly through the dark void toward the misty planet of Venus. In rotating watches, the cadets ran the ship, ate, slept, and spent their few remaining spare hours attending to their classroom work with the aid of soundscribers and story spools. Each of them was working for the day when he would wear the black-and-gold uniform of the Solar Guard officer that was respected throughout the system as the mark of merit, hard work, distinction, and honor.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
Once, Captain Strong and Astro donned space suitsand went outside to inspect the hull of thePolaris. The ship had passed through a swarm of small meteorites, each less than a tenth of an inch in diameter but traveling at high speeds, and some had pierced the hull. It was a simple and quick job to seal the holes with a special atomic torch.
Like a giant silver bullet speeding toward a bull's-eye, the rocket ship pin-pointed the planet Venus from among the millions of worlds in space and was soon hovering over Venusport, nose up toward space, ready for a touchdown at the municipal spaceport. As the braking rockets quickly stopped all forward acceleration, the main rockets were cut in and the giant ship dropped toward the surface of the tropical planet tailfirst.
Tom's face glowed with excitement as he adjusted one lever and then another, delicately balancing the ship in its fall, meanwhile talking into the intercom and directing Astro in the careful reduction of thrust. On the radar deck Roger kept his eyes glued to the radar scanner and posted Tom on the altitude as the ship drew closer and closer to the ground.
"One thousand feet!" yelled Roger over the intercom. "Nine hundred—eight—seven—six—"
"Open main rockets one half!" called Tom. "Reduce rate of fall!"
The thunder of the rockets increased and the mighty ship quivered as its plummeting descent was checked slightly. Tom quickly adjusted the stabilizer trim tabs to keep the ship perpendicular to the ground, then watched the stern scanner carefully as the huge blast-pitted concrete ramp loomed larger and larger.
"Five hundred feet to touchdown," tolled Roger in more slow and measured tones. "Four hundred—three—two—"
On the scanner screen Tom could see the exhaust flarebegin to lick at the concrete ramp, then splash its surface until it was completely hidden. He grasped the main control switch tightly and waited.
"One hundred feet," Roger's voice was tense now. "Seventy-five, fifty—"
Tom barked out a quick order. "Blast all rockets!"
In immediate response, the main tubes roared into thunderous life and thePolarisshook as the sudden acceleration battled the force of gravity. The ship's descent slowed perceptibly until she hovered motionless in the air, her stabilizer fins only two feet from the concrete ramp.
"Cut all power!" Tom's voice blasted through the intercom. A split second later there was a deafening silence, followed by a heavy muffled thud and the creak of straining metal as thePolariscame to rest on the ramp.
"Touchdown!" yelled Tom. He quickly cut all power to the control board and watched as one by one the gauges and dials registered zero or empty. The cadet stood up, noticed the time on the astral chronometer, and turned to face Captain Strong, rising from the chair beside him.
"Polarismade touchdown, planet Venus, at exactly 1543, sir," he said and saluted crisply.
Strong returned the salute. "Good work, Corbett," he said. "You handled her as though she was nothing more than a baby carriage!"
Roger came bouncing down the ladder, grinning. "Well," he said, "we're back on the planet where the monkeys walk around and call themselves men!"
"I heard that, Manning!" roared Astro, struggling through the hatch from the power deck. "One more crack like that and I'll stand you on your head and blast you off with your own space gas!"
"Listen, you overgrown Venusian ape," replied Roger,"I'll—"
"Yeah—" growled Astro, advancing on the smaller cadet. "You'll what?"
"All right, you two!" barked Strong. "Plug your jets! By the craters of Luna, one minute you act like hot-shot spacemen, and the next, you behave like children in a kindergarten!"
Suddenly the compartment echoed to hearty laughter. The cadets and their skipper turned to see Governor Hardy standing on the radar-bridge ladder, brief case in hand, roaring with laughter. He climbed down and faced the three cadets.
"If kindergarten behavior will produce spacemen like you, I'm all for it. Congratulations, all three of you. You did a good job!"
"Thank you, sir," said Tom.
Hardy turned to Strong. "Captain, I'm going ahead to the Solar Council building and get things set up for the screening. I imagine there are many anxious colonists ready to be processed!"
As Strong and the cadets came to attention and saluted, Governor Hardy turned and left the control deck.
Strong turned to the cadets. "From now on, you might as well forget that you're spacemen. Report to the Administration Building in one hour. You're going to do all your space jockeying in a chair from now on!"
For the next week, the three Space Cadets spent every waking hour in the Solar Council Administration Center, interviewing applicants who had passed their psychograph personality tests. Endlessly, from early morning until late at night, they questioned the eager applicants. Ninety-nine out of one hundred were refused. And when they were, they all had different reactions. Some cried, some were angry, some threatened, but the three cadets were unyielding. It was a thankless job, and after more than a week of it, tempers were on edge.
"What would you do," Roger would ask an applicant, "if you were suddenly drifting in space, in danger, and found that you had lost the vacuum in your audio tubes? How would you get help?"
Not one in over three hundred had realized that space itself was a perfect vacuum and could be substituted for the tubes. Roger had turned thumbs down on all of them.
Astro and Tom found their interviews equally as rough. One applicant admitted to Tom that he wanted to go to the satellite to establish a factory for making rocket juice, a highly potent drink that was not outlawed in the solar system, but was looked on with strong disfavor. When Tom turned down his application, the man tried to get Tom to enter into partnership with him, and when Tom refused, the man became violent and the cadet had to call enlisted Solar Guardsmen to throw him out.
While Tom and Roger made decisions quickly and decisively, Astro, on the other hand, patiently listened to all the tearful stories and sympathized with the applicants when they were unable to tear down a small reactor unit and rebuild it blindfolded. Painfully, sometimes with tears in his own eyes, he would tell the applicant he had failed, just when the would-be colonist would think Astro was going to pass him.
The three cadets were doing their jobs so well that in the one hundred and fifty-three applications approved by them Strong did not reject one, but sent them all on to Governor Hardy for final approval.
On the morning of the tenth day of screening, HyramLogan and his family entered Roger's small office. A man of medium height with a thick shock of iron-gray hair and ruddy, weather-beaten features Logan looked as though he was used to working in the outdoors. Flanked by his son and daughter, he stood quietly before the desk as the young cadet, without looking up, scanned his application quickly.
"How old are the children?" asked Roger brusquely.
"I'm nineteen," replied a low musical voice, "and Billy's twelve."
Roger's head suddenly jerked up. He stared past Hyram Logan and a small towheaded boy, to gaze into the warm brown eyes of Jane Logan, a slender, pretty girl whose open, friendly features were framed by neatly combed reddish blond hair. Roger sat staring at her, openmouthed, until he heard a loud cough and saw Logan trying to hide a smile. He quickly turned back to the application.
"I see here you're a farmer, Mr. Logan," said Roger. He stole a glance at the young girl, but Billy saw him and winked. Roger flushed and turned to Logan as the older man answered his questioner.
"That's right," said Logan. "I'm a farmer. Been a farmer all my life."
"Why do you want to go to Roald, Mr. Logan?" asked Roger.
"Well," said Logan, "I have a nice piece of land south of Venusport a ways. Me and my wife developed it and we've been farming it for over twenty-five years. But my wife died last year and I just sort of lost heart in this place. I figured maybe that new satellite will give me a start again. You'll have to have farmers to feed the people. And I can farm anything from chemicals to naturals, in hard rock or muddy water." He paused and clamped his jaws together and said proudly, "My fatherwas a farmer, and his father before him. One of the first to put a plow into Venusian topsoil!"
"Yes—uh—of course, Mr. Logan," mumbled Roger. "I don't think there'll—er—be any trouble about it."
The young cadet hadn't heard a word Hyram Logan had said, but instead had been gazing happily into the eyes of Jane Logan. He stamped the application and indicated the door to Tom's screening room, following the girl wistfully with his eyes. He muttered to himself, "There ought to be more applicants like Farmer Logan and his daughter for the brave new world of Roald!"
"And if there were, Cadet Manning," roared Captain Strong, standing in the doorway from the hall, "we'd probably wind up with a satellite filled with beautiful women!"
"Yes, sir! Er—no, sir," stuttered Roger, jerking himself to attention. "I mean, what's wrong with that?"
"By the rings of Saturn," declared Strong, "you'll never change, Manning!"
Roger grinned. "I hope not, sir."
The door to Tom's room opened and the curly-haired cadet walked in holding an application.
"Captain Strong," he said, "could I see you a minute?"
"Sure, Tom. Any trouble?" asked Strong.
Tom handed him the application silently and waited. Strong read the sheet and turned to Tom. "You know what to do in a case like this, Tom. Why come to me?"
Tom screwed up his face, thinking. "I don't know, sir. There's something different about this fellow. Astro passed him with flying colors. Said he knew as much about a reactor unit as he did. Roger passed him too."
"Who is it?" asked Roger. Strong handed him the paper.
"Sure, I passed him," said Roger. "That guy really knows his electronics."
Strong looked at Tom. "How do you feel about it,Tom?"
"Well, sir," began Tom, "I would pass him in a minute. He's had experience handling men and he's been in deep space before. He's logged an awful lot of time on merchant spaceships, but—"
"But what?" asked Strong. He took the paper and studied it again. "Looks to me as if he's what we're looking for," he said.
"I know, sir," said Tom. "But why would a man like that, with all that experience, want to bury himself on Roald? He could get practically any job he wants, right here in the system."
"Ummh," mused Strong. He reread the application. In the blank space for reason for going, the applicant had written simply:Adventure.He handed the application back to Tom. "I think I see what you mean, Tom. It does look too good. Better not take a chance. Seven years is a long time to get stuck with a misfit, or worse, a—" He didn't finish, but Tom knew he meant a man not to be trusted.
"Tell Paul Vidac his application has been rejected," said Strong.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
"You mean Captain Strong has been recalled to the Academy?" gasped Roger.
"That's right," replied Tom. "He had a talk with Governor Hardy last night and this morning he took the jet liner back to Earth. Special orders from Commander Walters."
"Well, blast my jets!" exclaimed Astro. "Wonder what's up?"
"I don't know," said Tom. "But it must be something more important than the Roald project for him to pull out now!"
"It might have something to do with the project, Tom," suggested Roger.
Tom shook his head. "Maybe, but it just isn't like Captain Strong not to say anything to us before he left. I wouldn't have known about it if one of the enlisted guardsmen hadn't asked me if we were going with him."
Astro and Roger looked at each other. "You mean," asked Roger, "Captain Strong didn't tell you he was going?"
"That's just it!" replied Tom. "We've been travelingall over space together screening the applicants, and then Captain Strong just leaves when we start the final screening."
The three cadets were seated in a snack shop in Luna City on the Moon, sipping hot tea and eating spaceburgers. For six weeks they had been interviewing the applicants for the new satellite colony and were getting near the end. Their task had gone fairly smoothly except for some difficulty on Mars when Strong and the cadets had rejected scores of applicants with shady backgrounds; criminals and gamblers; spacemen who had had their space papers picked up for violation of the space code, and men who had been dismissed from the enlisted Solar Guard for serious misconduct. But now, finally, the quotas of all the colonies and planets but Luna City on the Moon had been filled. Soon the expedition would blast off for Roald.
"Well," said Tom, sipping the last of his tea, "we have a heavy day ahead of us tomorrow. I guess we'd better get back to thePolarisand sack in."
"Yeah," agreed Astro, tossing some credits on the counter and following Tom and Roger out into the street. They walked past the shops, their blue cadet uniforms reflecting the garish colors of the nuanium signs in the shopwindows. At the first corner they hailed a jet cab and were soon speeding out of the city toward the municipal spaceport.
The boys didn't talk much on the way out, each wondering why Captain Strong was recalled on such short notice, and why he had left without saying good-by to them. They knew they would see him in a few days when the processing of the Luna City applicants was over and they would return to Space Academy, but the relationship between the cadets and the Solar Guard captain had developed into a deeper association thanjust a cadet crew and officer supervisor. They were friends—spacemates! And the boys sensed trouble ahead when they arrived at the Luna City spaceport. They stood in the shadow of thePolarisand stared into the sky to watch the globe that was Earth revolve in the depths of space. The outline of the Western Hemisphere, flanked by the shimmering Atlantic and Pacific oceans, could be seen clearly. It was a breath-taking view of a world that had given birth to all the men who now took the travel from one world to another for granted.
"Gosh," said Tom, staring at the magnificent sight. "I see the Earth like that every time we blast off from Luna. I should be used to it by now, but—" he stopped suddenly and sighed.
"I know what you mean, Tom," said Astro. "It's the same with me. Gets me right here," and he put his hand to his heart.
"You don't know your anatomy yet, pal," drawled Roger. "Move your hand down a couple of inches. Things only get you in the stomach."
"Oh, is that a fact?" growled the big Venusian. Suddenly, without any apparent effort, he picked up the blond cadet and held him high in the air. "Which way shall I drop him, Tom? On his head or the seat of his pants? Seems to me it won't make much difference."
Tom laughed at the spectacle of Roger flailing the air helplessly, then suddenly stopped and grabbed Astro by the arm. "Wait, Astro," he called. "Look! There's someone in the ship!"
"What?" cried Astro, dropping Roger and turning to thePolaris. The three cadets saw light gleaming from the control-deck viewport.
"Well, I'll be a space monkey!" exclaimed Roger. "Who could it be?"
"I don't know," replied Tom. "Governor Hardy is atthe Luna City Hotel, and Captain Strong is the only one besides us who has the light key to open the air lock!"
"Well, what're we waiting for!" said Roger. "Let's find out what's going on!"
The three cadets climbed into the ship and raced up the companionway to the control deck.
"No one here," announced Roger as he stepped through the hatch. He turned to Astro. "You were the last one out of the ship. Are you sure you locked it up?"
"The ship was locked, Cadet Manning!" said a voice in back of them. The three cadets whirled around to face a tall, wiry man with dark hair, dressed in civilian clothes and holding a cup of coffee. He smiled at the three startled cadets and casually drained the cup. "I opened her," he continued in a deep voice. "Governor Hardy gave me the key."
"Who are you?" asked Tom, almost indignant at the man's self-assurance. And then he stopped, frowning, "Say, haven't I seen you before?"
"You're right, Tom," cried Astro. "I've seen him too!"
"Who are you, mister?" demanded Roger.
The man turned back to the messroom just off the control deck, put the coffee cup down on the table, and returned to face the three cadets. "My name is Paul Vidac. I'm the new lieutenant governor of Roald."
"You're what?" gasped Tom.
"You're space happy!" exclaimed Roger. "Your application was refused. Captain Strong rejected it himself."
"Fortunately for the project of Roald," said Vidac with a half-smile playing at his lips, "Captain Strong has been taken off the Roald project." He paused and lounged against the bulkhead to announce, "I have replaced him."
"You couldn't replace Captain Strong digging a holein the ground, mister!" snapped Roger sarcastically.
"You might have taken over his work, but you couldn't touch him with an atomic blaster," growled Astro. "Captain Strong is—"
"Wait, fellows," said Tom. "Let's find out what this is all about."
"That's all right, Corbett," Vidac broke in. "I appreciate your allegiance. I wouldn't like anyone who would accept another person in place of a friend without putting up a beef." His voice was as smooth as the purr of a cat.
"How could you have replaced him, mister?" asked Tom, with just a little more self-control than Roger or Astro had shown.
"Very simple," said Vidac. "Governor Hardy has the final say on all applications, as you know. He has unquestioned authority to appoint, approve, and select anyone he wants. In view of my experience, Governor Hardy was delighted to have me join the Roald expedition."
The three cadets looked at each other in bewilderment. Finally Tom walked over and stuck out his hand. "We're glad to have you aboard, sir." He managed a smile.
Reluctantly Roger and Astro followed suit.
"Thank you, boys," said Vidac with a smile. "I'm sure we'll learn to work together smoothly in these last few days. There are a few changes to be made of course. But it really doesn't matter. You'll be finished with the screening soon."
"What kind of changes, sir?" asked Tom.
"Oh, just routine," answered Vidac. "Instead of you seeing the applicants first, I will speak with each one briefly before sending them on to you."
"What's the matter with the way we've been doingit?" asked Roger with a slight edge to his voice that did not go unnoticed. Vidac looked at the cadet. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes were hard.
"I think, Cadet Manning," purred Vidac, "that it will be better for you not to question me, or any of my practices. A Space Cadet's first rule is to take orders,notto question them."
Tom was thinking quickly. It was obvious that Vidac had gone straight to Governor Hardy and had prevailed on him to review his application. Tom could see how Vidac's background would impress the governor. He remembered that there wasn't any real evidence against Vidac. In fact, Tom thought, it was only because Vidac's background was so superior to most of the applicants that he had aroused suspicion at all. Now, with Captain Strong recalled to the Academy, it was only natural for the governor to get the best man for the job. Tom was ready to admit that Vidac's background certainly spoke for itself.
He looked at the man and grinned. "I'll tell you honestly, sir. When Captain Strong refused your application, it was because—well—"
Vidac was watching Tom shrewdly. "Well?" he asked quietly.
"It was because we couldn't understand how a man like you would want to bury yourself on a satellite for seven years when you could get most any kind of job you would want, right here in the Alliance."
Vidac hesitated just a second, and then his face broke into a broad grin. "You know, Corbett, you're right! Absolutely right! I can see where you three boys have done a fine job for the governor." He slapped Astro on the back and threw his arm around Tom's shoulder, speaking to them in a suddenly confidential tone. "As a matter of fact, I was offered the directorship of the Galacticspace lanes only last week," he said. "Do you know why I refused it?"
Tom shook his head.
"Because I'm a spaceman, just like yourselves." He looked at Astro. "Cadet Astro, would you take a job with an outfit and give up space to sit behind a desk eight hours a day?"
"No, sir!" said Astro emphatically.
"Well, that's exactly the way I feel. But I commend you on your observations about me, Corbett. I think I would have been a little suspicious myself."
The three cadets smiled.
"Thank you, sir," said Tom. "And forget what we just said. If Governor Hardy's okayed you, that's good enough for us."
"Thanks, Corbett," said Vidac. "I appreciate that."
"I guess we'd better turn in now," said Roger. "We have a hard day ahead of us. Those applicants come at you like dinosaurs."
"Right!" said Vidac. "I'll take over Captain Strong's quarters. See you in the morning."
The three cadets went to their quarters without saying a word. When the hatch was closed, Roger turned and faced his unit mates.
"Well, it sure looks like we made a mistake about that spaceman!" he said. "I think he's all right!"
"Yeah," said Astro, "you can't blame a guy for not wanting to take a desk job."
Tom merely sat in his bunk, starting to pull off one of his soft leather space boots. He held it a moment, thinking, and then looked up at his two unit mates. "You know, I think I'm going to have a talk with the governor."
"About what?" asked Roger.
"Vidac," said Tom simply.
"What could you say that he doesn't already know?"asked Astro.
"Why—" Tom stopped. After a moment he dropped his boot to the deck, looked up at Roger and Astro, and smiled. "Nothing, I guess."
"Come on," said Roger, yawning. "Let's turn in. Just the thought of facing those applicants tomorrow makes me tired."
Astro turned out the light and hopped into bed. Tom lay in his bunk, hands under his head, wondering about Vidac, and then he began to think about the colony of Roald. He lay a long time, thinking about the fine people who were giving up comfortable homes, successful businesses. He thought of Hyram Logan and family; the shopkeeper from Titan with three sets of twin boys; the Martian miner who had spent twenty-five futile years searching for uranium in the asteroid belt. They were all ready to go over fifty billion miles into deep space and begin their lives again. Tom shook his head. He wondered if he had a choice whether he would chance the mystery and danger of deep space.
With the steady hum of the electronic generator on the power deck droning in his ears the curly-haired cadet soon fell asleep.
"What did you say your name was?" asked Roger of the applicant standing before him. He was a man badly in need of a shave and his clothes looked as if he had slept in them. He was the sixty-sixth applicant Roger had seen that morning.
"Tad Winters," replied the man in a surly tone, "and hurry up with this business. I haven't got all day!"
Roger looked up sharply. "You'll wait until I've had time to check your application, sir. Or you can leave right now!"
"Listen, punk," snarled Winters, "I just saw yourboss—"
"My boss?" asked Roger, puzzled.
"Yeah," said Winters. "Your boss, Vidac! And he said I was to tell you to pass me!"
Roger stood up and looked the man in the eye. "You've had your space papers suspended twice, Mr. Winters. Once for smuggling, and once for insubordination on a deep-space merchantman. Your application to go to Roald is rejected."
"We'll see about that!" growled Winters. "Gimme that, you space jerk!" He snatched the application out of Roger's hand and stomped out of the room.
Roger smiled. It was nothing new to him for the applicants to threaten him and seek higher authority. He buzzed for the next applicant.
Meanwhile, Tom was interviewing a small man with heavy eyebrows and a thin face. One side of his mouth twitched continually, making the man look as though he were laughing. Tom read over the application and looked up quickly.
"Mr. Bush," said Tom, "you've stated here that you were once a messenger for the Spaceways Bonded Messenger Service and that you were dismissed. Why was that?"
Ed Bush's mouth twitched as he played with his hat and stirred uneasily in his chair. "I was framed," he said finally.
"Framed?" asked Tom.
"Yeah, framed!" snapped Bush. "I was taking a credit pouch to Venusport from Atom City when it was stolen from me."
"Could you prove it?" asked Tom.
"How could I prove it when I don't know what happened to it?" growled Bush. "Listen, Corbett, you can'thold a little thing like that against me. A man is entitled to one mistake—"
Tom held up his hand. "Mr. Bush, you also had your space papers suspended for six months and were caught during the suspension blasting off with false papers. Was that a mistake?"
"Well, what do you expect a man to do? Go hungry? I've been a spaceman longer than you've been alive. I had to have a job. There wasn't anything else I could do." His voice trailed off into a whine.
"But you did, willfully and with full knowledge of your act, violate the space code by using false papers, didn't you?" pursued Tom.
"Yeah, but—" whined Bush.
"I'm sorry," said Tom, standing up. "Your application has been rejected."
Bush stood up and snatched the application from Tom. His mouth began to twitch furiously. "Why, you little—"
"That's enough, Bush!" snapped Vidac, who had suddenly entered the room. "Leave your application on the desk and get out!"
Bush turned and looked at Vidac, nodded, and glared at Tom before stalking from the room. Vidac smiled at Tom's questioning look and walked over. He sat on the edge of Tom's desk and picked up Bush's application.
"Funny thing about Bush, Tom," Vidac mused.
"What, sir?" asked Tom.
"Notice the nervous twitch he has on the side of his face?"
"Yes, sir," said Tom.
"I've known Bush a long time. Many years. He used to be the happiest little space joker in the system, singing all the time, playing a concertina. And then he lost that credit pouch. It bothered him real bad."
"I guess it would, sir," said Tom.
"And then he got caught blasting off with false papers and of course that made him a marked man. He developed the nervous twitch right after that. He's a good man, Tom. And I think we ought to give him another chance."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
Tom gasped. "But, sir, he's broken the space code!"
Vidac looked at Tom and smiled. "I know, Tom, andit's a serious thing. But I think he deserves another chance."
"We've refused people for a lot less than that, sir," said Tom emphatically, "before you came."
Vidac's face hardened. "I said we were going to give him another chance!"
Tom met the lieutenant governor's eyes coolly. "Yes, sir." He stamped the application and handed it to Vidac.
"It's pretty easy to sit in judgment of others, Tom," said Vidac, smiling again. "If there are any more—ah—questionable applicants, I suggest you send them to me. And if I want to give them another chance, you will, of course, follow orders."
"Very well, sir," replied Tom, tight-lipped. "If you say so."
Vidac's eyes hardened. "I say so, Corbett!" He turned and walked from the room.
Tom sat down weakly. As he was about to buzz for the next applicant, the door burst open and Roger came into the room. The blond-haired cadet's lips were pulled tight in a grim line.
"There's something rocket-blasting screwy around here, Tom!" he exclaimed.
"What do you mean?" asked Tom.
"I just rejected a real low-down space crawler—a guy named Tad Winters."
"Yes?" Tom was alert, anticipating Roger's answer.
"He went to Vidac and came back later with his application approved."
Tom slammed his fist on the desk. "That proves it! Governor Hardy has to be told what's going on!" He flipped on the teleceiver near by and asked the central communications operator to connect him with the governor's office. In a moment the face of Christopher Hardy sharpened into focus on the screen.
"What is it, Corbett?" asked the governor.
"I'd like to talk to you, sir, if I may. Something's just come up and I'm not sure what to do."
"Well, whatever it is, I'm sure Governor Vidac will be able to take care of it. Speak to him."
Tom gulped and glanced at Roger. "But, sir," he stammered, "it's—it's—"
"It's what, Corbett? Hurry, lad! I haven't got all day."
"What I have to say is—is—about the lieutenant governor, sir," Tom managed finally.
"Now listen, son," said Hardy, "I have a lot of confidence in you three boys. You've all done a fine job. But I screened Mr. Vidac myself, and I'm satisfied that he is just the man I need. After Captain Strong was recalled to the Academy, I had to have a man to take over for him. And I am satisfied that Mr. Vidac is about as fine a man as I could get! Now don't bother me again. You've done a fine job, as I said. But don't let it go to your heads!"
"Yes, sir," said Tom, clamping his teeth together. "Very well, sir!"
"One more thing," said Hardy. "We've about finished here at Luna City. When you've processed the last of the applicants, prepare thePolarisfor a return trip to Space Academy." He paused and smiled. "I think I might be able to convince Commander Walters you need a two weeks' leave!" He smiled again and then his face disappeared from the screen.
Tom looked up at Roger. "I don't like it, Roger. Maybe I'm wrong, but either the governor is pretty dumb or Vidac is the slickest thing in space!"
"Could be both," drawled Roger.
Tom looked at the pile of applications on his desk, and then at the door to Vidac's office.
"Whatever it is, we've got to tell Captain Strong!"