“What’s that for, Astro?” asked Strong. “They’ll have tools aboard the ship if we need them.”
“If that lead baffle in the reaction chamber has worked loose, sir, the odds are ten to one that the control chamber is flooded with radiation. And if it is, the tools are probably so hot you couldn’t use them.”
“That’s good thinking, Astro,” complimented Strong. He turned to Tom and Roger and checked their suits and the oxygen supply and feeder valves on their backs. He then turned his back while Tom checked his, and Roger adjusted Astro’s.
“All right, turn on your communicators and test them,” ordered Strong.
One by one the boys flipped on the switch of the portable spacephones in their fish-bowl helmets and spoke to each other. Strong indicated that he was satisfied and turned toward the jet-boat catapult deck, the three boys following him in single file.
“Astro, you and Roger take number-one boat,” said Strong. “Tom and I will take number two.” His voice had a harsh metallic tone through the headset spacephones.
Roger hurried along with Astro to the number-one boat and climbed inside.
“Jet boat has its own oxygen system,” said Astro to Roger. “Better make use of it while we’re in here and save our suits’ supplies.”
“Good idea,” said Roger. He locked the clear plastic airtight covering of the jet boat and began flicking at the control buttons.
“Strap in, you Venusian hick. Here we go!” Roger shoved a lever at his side, making the jet-boat deck airtight from the rest of the Polaris, and then, by pressing a button on the simple control board, a section of the Polaris’ hull slipped back, exposing them to empty space.
The controls of a jet boat were simplicity itself. A half-moon wheel for guiding, up, down and either side, and two pedals on the floor, one for going and one for stopping. Roger stepped on the “Go” pedal and the small ship flashed out into the darkness of space.
Almost immediately on the opposite side of the Polaris, Captain Strong and Tom in the second boat shot away from the rocket cruiser and both boats headed for the stricken spaceship.
CHAPTER 14
The hatch clanked shut behind them. Inside the huge air lock of the Lady Venus, Tom, Roger, Astro and Captain Strong waited for the oxygen to equal the pressure in their space suits before removing their fish-bowl space helmets.
“O.K., sir,” said Tom, “pressure’s equal.”
Strong stepped to the hatch leading to the inside of the ship and pushed hard. It slid to one side.
“How many jet boats do you have?” was the first thing Strong heard as he stepped through the door to the interior of the passenger ship.
“Al James!” cried Manning. “So this is your tub?”
The startled young skipper, whom Tom, Roger and Astro had met in Atom City, turned to face the blond-headed cadet.
“Manning!” he gasped.
“What’s your trouble, skipper?” asked Strong of the young spaceship captain.
Before James could answer there was a sudden clamor from beyond the next hatch leading to the main passenger cabin. Suddenly the hatch was jerked open and a group of frightened men and women poured through. The first to reach Strong, a short fat man with a moonface and wearing glasses, began to jabber hysterically, while clinging to Strong’s arm.
“Sir, this ship is going to blow up any moment. You’ve got to save us!” He turned to face Al James. “And he refused to allow us to escape in the jet boats!” He pointed an accusing finger at the young skipper as the other passengers loudly backed him up.
“Just a moment,” snapped Strong. “There’s a Solar Guard rocket cruiser only five hundred yards away, so take it easy and don’t get hysterical. No one is going to get hurt if you keep calm and obey orders!” He turned to James. “What’s the trouble, skipper?”
“It’s the reaction chamber. The lead baffle around the chamber worked loose and flooded everything with radiation. Now the mass in number-three rocket is building and wildcatting itself. If it gets any higher, it’ll explode.”
“Why didn’t your power-deck man dump the mass?” asked Strong.
“We didn’t know it was wildcatting until after he had tried to repair it. And he didn’t tighten the bolts enough to keep it from leaking radiation.” The young skipper paused. “He lived long enough to warn us, though.”
“What’s the Geiger count on the radiation?” asked Strong.
“Up to twelve thirty-two—about ten minutes ago,” answered James. “I pulled everybody out of the power deck and cut all energy circuits, including the energizing pumps. We didn’t have any power so I had to use the combined juice of the three jet boats to send out the emergency signal that you picked up.” He turned to face the little man with the glasses. “I had a choice of either saving about fifteen passengers on the jet boats, and leaving the others, or take a chance on saving everybody by using the power to send out a message.”
“Ummmmh,” said Strong to himself. He felt confidence in a young spaceman who would take a decision like that on himself. “What was that Geiger count again?” he asked.
“Must be better than fourteen hundred by now,” answered James.
Strong made a quick decision.
“All right,” he said, tight-lipped, “abandon ship! How many passengers?”
“Seventeen women and twenty-three men including the crew,” replied James.
“Does that include yourself?” asked Strong.
“No,” came the reply.
Strong felt better. Any man who would not count himself on a list to survive could be counted on in any emergency.
“We’ll take four women at a time in each jet boat first,” said Strong. “James, you and I will operate the jet boats and ferry the passengers to the Polaris. Tom, you and Roger and Astro get everybody aboard the ship ready to leave.”
“Yes, sir,” said Tom.
“We haven’t much time. The reaction mass is building fast. Come on, James, we have to rip out the seats in the jet boats to get five people in them.” Strong turned back into the jet-boat launching well.
“May I have the passenger lists, Captain?” asked Tom, turning to James. The young skipper handed him a clip board with the names of the passengers and crew and followed Strong.
“We will abandon ship in alphabetical order,” announced Tom. “Miss Nancy Anderson?”
A young girl about sixteen stepped forward.
“Just stand there by the hatch, Miss,” said Tom. He glanced at the next name. “Miss Elizabeth Anderson?” Another girl, looking very much like the first, stepped forward and stood beside her sister.
“Mrs. John Bailey?” called Tom.
A gray-haired woman of about sixty stepped forward.
“Pardon me, sir, but I would rather remain with my husband, and go later with him.”
“No—no, Mary,” pleaded an elderly man, holding his arm around her shoulder. “Go now. I’ll be all right. Won’t I, sir?” He looked at Tom anxiously.
“I can’t be sure, sir,” said Tom. He found it difficult to control his voice as he looked down at the old couple, who couldn’t weigh more than two hundred pounds between them.
“I’m going to stay,” said the woman firmly.
“As you wish, Madam,”