The Tom Corbett Space Cadet Megapack. Carey Rockwell. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Carey Rockwell
Издательство: Ingram
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Жанр произведения: Научная фантастика
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781479490059
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kid!” greeted Loring. “Glad to see you took my advice and got away from ‘Blast-off’ Connel.” Mason waved a salute, and the three men sat down.

      Roger ignored Loring and Mason, speaking directly to Shinny. “Did you complete our deal?” he asked softly.

      “Nope,” answered Shinny. “I brought you another one instead.”

      Roger held out his hand. “My one hundred credits—now!”

      “Never mind the credits, kid,” said Loring, “we’ve got more important things to talk about.”

      Roger continued to look at Shinny, his palm outstretched on the top of the table. “One hundred credits,” he repeated coldly.

      Reluctantly, Shinny handed over the money. Slowly, carefully, Roger counted the bills, and then, after putting them away, he turned to face Loring for the first time.

      “You said you have something important to discuss with me?” he drawled.

      “I see you learned fast, kid!” said Loring with a crooked smile. “I wouldn’t trust Shinny as far as I could throw a comet!”

      Mason laughed loudly. The other three merely glared at him, and he stopped abruptly.

      “Here’s the proposition, Manning,” said Loring, leaning across the table. “I’ve gotta ship and I wanta make a hop into deep space. I want you to do the astrogation!”

      “I’m interested,” said Roger. “Keep talking.”

      Briefly Loring described the copper satellite, its potential value, and what they expected to get out of it. Roger listened without comment. When Loring had finished, Shinny told him about the ship and its condition. When Shinny finished, Loring turned to Roger.

      “Well, Manning,” he asked, “how do you like the setup?”

      “How much do I get out of it?” asked Roger.

      “One twentieth of the take,” said Loring.

      “There are four of us. One full quarter-share, nothing less,” drawled Roger.

      “One-fourth to Shinny and one-fourth to him,” whined Mason. “That only leaves us a fourth apiece!”

      “That’s more than you’ve got now,” snapped Loring. “All right, Manning, you’re in!”

      Roger smiled for the first time. “When do we blast off?”

      “As soon as we get that space wagon in shape we hit the deep!” said Loring.

      “I think I need a drink on that,” said Shinny. He yelled for the bartender, who brought rocket juice and Martian fizz.

      Roger picked up the glass of the sweet water and glanced around the table.

      “What’s the name of that space wagon you’ve got buried in the jungles, Mr. Shinny?”

      “Ain’t got no name,” said Shinny.

      Roger paused, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Then I propose we name her after the hearts of each of us here at the table.”

      “What’s that?” asked Loring.

      “Space Devil,” said Roger.

      Shinny grinned, his frail body trembling slightly from his silent laughter. He held up the glass of rocket juice.

      “I propose a toast to the Space Devil!”

      “To the Space Devil,” said the others together.

      “And whatever trouble she brings,” added Roger softly.

      CHAPTER 11

      “Cadet Higgins!” Major Connel’s voice roared over the ship’s intercom as the giant rocket cruiser Polaris blasted smoothly through space.

      “Yes, sir,” squeaked Alfie in reply.

      “Cadet Higgins,” said Connel, “I thought I had requested a sight on the sun star Regulus at fifteen hundred hours!”

      “You did, sir,” replied Alfie.

      “Then why, by the craters of Luna, don’t I have that position?”

      “I was—busy, sir,” came the meek reply.

      “Cadet Higgins,” sighed Connel patiently, “would you be so kind as to come down to the control deck?”

      In the short space of time since their departure from the space station Major Connel had learned that to scold Cadet Higgins was not the way to gain his attention. In fact, Major Connel had not been able to find a way of getting the little cadet’s attention in any manner, at any time, on anything.

      “I can’t right now, sir,” replied Alfie.

      “What do you mean, you can’t?” exploded Connel.

      “I mean, sir,” explained Alfie, “that I’ve just sighted Tara and I have to get a position check on her before we go any farther, to ensure that we traverse the same trajectory on our return trip and thus avoid the problem of finding a new and safe route back.”

      “Cadet Alfie Higgins”—Connel’s voice climbed to a frenzied shriek—“if you are not on this control deck in ten seconds, I’ll personally see that you are fed to a dinosaur when we touch down on Tara and you’ll never return. Now get down here!”

      Tom and Astro, who could hear the conversation over the intercom, were finding it very difficult to keep from laughing out loud at the innocence of Alfie and the outraged wrath of Major Connel.

      Tom, particularly, had discovered that Alfie’s innocent refusal to be bullied by Connel had made the time pass more quickly on the long haul through deep space. More than once he had seen Major Connel rage against the underweight cadet and become even more frustrated at his childlike resistance. It had helped Tom forget the empty feeling he experienced every time he called the radar deck and heard Alfie’s mild voice instead of Roger’s usual mocking answer. Astro, too, had managed to forget the loneliness he felt aboard the great cruiser by watching the antics of Alfie and Major Connel. More than once he had instigated situations where Alfie would get caught red-handed in a harmless error, and then he lay flat on the power deck, laughing until his sides ached, as he listened to Alfie and Major Connel over the intercom.

      It had helped. Both Tom and Astro admitted it had helped, but it still didn’t take away the dull ache each felt when an occasional remark, situation, or thought would bring Roger to mind.

      Tom flipped the teleceiver on and waited for the blank screen to show him Tara. Connel stood to one side, also watching for the image of the planet to take form on the gray-black screen. A hatch clanked behind them, and Alfie stepped into the control deck to snap to his version of attention.

      “Cadet Higgins reporting, sir,” he said quietly.

      Connel stepped in front of him, placed his hands on his hips, and bent slightly, pushing his face almost into Alfie’s.

      “Cadet Higgins, I want you to know I have taken all the blasted space-brained antics I’m going to take from you,” said Connel quietly.

      “Yes, sir,” replied Alfie blandly.

      “And,” said Connel, shaking a finger in Alfie’s face, “and if there is one more—just one more brazen, flagrant disregard of my specific orders, then, Cadet Higgins, I promise you the most miserable trip back to Earth you will ever know in your entire career! I promise you I’ll make you sweat! I’ll—I’ll—” Connel stopped short and shuddered. Alfie’s owl-eyed look of innocence seemed to unnerve him. He tried to resume his tirade, but the words failed him. He finally turned away, growling, “Higgins, get up on that radar deck and do as you’re told, when you’re told to do it and not when you want to do it! Is that clear?”

      “Yes, sir,” said Alfie meekly. He saluted and returned to the radar deck.

      “Corbett!”