Now, returning from a routine training flight that had taken them to the moons of Jupiter, the three cadets, Corbett, Manning, and Astro, and their unit skipper, Captain Steve Strong, completed the delicate task of setting the great ship down on the Academy spaceport.
“Closing in fast, sir,” announced Tom, his attention focused on the meters and dials in front of him. “Five hundred feet to touchdown.”
“Full braking thrust!” snapped Strong crisply.
Deep inside the Polaris, braking rockets roared with unceasing power, and the mighty spaceship eased itself to the concrete surface of the Academy spaceport.
“Touchdown!” yelled Tom. He quickly closed the master control lever, cutting all power, and sudden silence filled the ship. He stood up and faced Strong, saluting smartly.
“Rocket cruiser Polaris completes mission”—he glanced at the astral chronometer on the panel board—“at fifteen thirty-three, sir.”
“Very well, Corbett,” replied Strong, returning the salute. “Check the Polaris from radar mast to exhaust ports right away.”
“Yes, sir,” was Tom’s automatic answer, and then he caught himself. “But I thought—”
Strong interrupted him with a wave of his hand. “I know, Corbett, you thought the Polaris would be pulled in for a general overhaul and you three would get liberty.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Tom.
“I’m not sure you won’t get it,” said Strong, “but I received a message last night from Commander Walters. I think the Polaris unit might have another assignment coming up!”
“By the rings of Saturn,” drawled Roger from the open hatch to the radar bridge, “you might know the old man would have another mission for us! We haven’t had a liberty since we were Earthworms!”
“I’m sorry, Manning,” said Strong, “but you know if I had my way, you’d certainly get the liberty. If anyone deserves it, you three do.”
By this time Astro had joined the group on the control deck.
“But, sir,” ventured Tom, “we’ve all made plans, I mean—well, my folks are expecting me.”
“Us, you mean,” interrupted Roger. “Astro and I are your guests, remember?”
“Sure, I remember,” said Tom, smiling. He turned back to Captain Strong. “We’d appreciate it if you could do something for us, sir. I mean—well, have another unit assigned.”
Strong stepped forward and put his arms around the shoulders of Tom and Roger and faced Astro. “I’m afraid you three made a big mistake in becoming the best unit in the Academy. Now every time there’s an important assignment to be handed out the name of the Polaris unit sticks out like a hot rocket!”
“Some consolation,” said Roger dourly.
Strong smiled. “All right, check this wagon and then report to me in my quarters in the morning. You’ll have tonight off at least. Unit dis-missed!”
The three cadets snapped their backs straight, stood rigid, and saluted as their superior officer strode toward the hatch. His foot on the ladder, he turned and faced them again.
“It’s been a fine mission. I want to compliment you on the way you’ve handled yourselves these past few months. You boys are real spacemen!” He saluted and disappeared down the ladder leading to the exit port.
“And that,” said Roger, turning to his unit-mates, “is known as the royal come-on for a dirty detail!”
“Ahhh, stop your gassing, Manning,” growled Astro. “Just be sure your radar bridge is O.K. If we do have to blast out of here in a hurry, I want to get where we’re supposed to be going!”
“You just worry about the power deck, spaceboy, and let little Roger take care of his own department,” replied Roger.
Astro eyed him speculatively. “You know the only reason they allowed this space creep in the Academy, Tom?” asked Astro.
“No, why?” asked Tom, playing along with the game.
“Because they knew any time the Polaris ran out of reactant fuel we could just stick Manning in the rocket tubes and have him blow out some of his special brand of space gas!”
“Listen, you Venusian throwback! One more word out of you and—”
“All right, you two!” broke in Tom good-naturedly. “Enough’s enough! Come on. We’ve got just enough time to run up to the mess hall and grab a good meal before we check the ship.”
“That’s for me,” said Astro. “I’ve been eating those concentrates so long my stomach thinks I’ve turned into a test tube.”
Astro referred to the food taken along on space missions. It was dehydrated and packed in plastic containers to save weight and space. The concentrates never made a satisfactory meal, even though they supplied everything necessary for a healthful diet.
A few moments later the three members of the Polaris stood on the main slidewalk, an endless belt of plastic, powered by giant subsurface rollers, being carried from the spaceport to the main academy administration building, the great gleaming Tower of Galileo.
Space Academy, the university of the planets, was set among the low hills of the western part of the North American continent. Here, in the nest of fledgling spacemen, boys from Earth and the colonies of Venus and Mars learned the complex science that would enable them to reach unlimited heights; to rocket through the endless void of space and visit new worlds on distant planets millions of miles from Earth.
This was the year 2353—the age of space! A time when boys dreamed only of becoming Space Cadets at Space Academy, to learn their trade and later enter the mighty Solar Guard, or join the rapidly expanding merchant space service that sent out great fleets of rocket ships daily to every corner of the solar system.
As the slidewalk carried the three cadets between the buildings that surrounded the grassy quadrangle of the Academy, Tom looked up at the Tower of Galileo dominating the entire area.
“You know,” he began haltingly, “every time I go near this place I get a lump in my throat!”
“Yeah,” breathed Astro, “me too.”
Roger made no comment. His eyes were following the path of the giant telescope reflector that moved in a slow arc, getting into position for the coming night’s observations. Tom followed his gaze to the massive domed building, housing the giant one-thousand-inch reflector.
“You think we’ll ever go as far into the deep with a rocket ship as we can see with the big eye?” he asked.
“I dunno,” replied Roger. “That thing can penetrate other star systems in our galaxy. And that’s a long way off!”
“Nearest thing to us is Alpha Centauri in our own galaxy, and that’s twenty-three and a half million million miles away,” commented Astro.
“That’s not so far,” argued Tom. “Only a few months ago the Solar Alliance sent out a scientific exploration to take a look at that baby.”
“Musta been some hop,” commented Roger.
“Hey!” cried Tom suddenly. “There’s Alfie Higgins!” He pointed in the direction of another slidewalk moving at right angles to their own. The cadet that he singled out on the slidewalk was so thin and small he looked emaciated. He wore glasses and at the moment was absorbed in a paper he held in his hand.
“Well, what do you know!” cried Astro. “The Brain!”
Roger punched Astro in the mid-section. “If you were as smart as he is, you big grease monkey, you’d be O.K.”
“Nah!”