“He went with Captain Strong, sir.” answered Tom.
“Oh?” said Mike. And in a surprisingly soft tone he added, “You two pulled green slips, eh?”
“Yes, sir,” they replied together.
“Well, I don’t know how you did it, but congratulations. You passed the classification tests. Both of you.”
Tom just looked at the scarlet-clad, stumpy warrant officer. He couldn’t believe his ears. Suddenly he felt as if he had been lifted off his feet. And then he realized that he was off his feet. Astro was holding him over his head. Then he dumped him in his bunk as easily as if he had been a child. And at the same time, the big Venusian let out a loud, long, earsplitting yell.
McKenny matched him with his bull-like roar.
“Plug that foghorn, you blasted Earthworm. You’ll have the whole Academy in here thinking there’s a murder.”
By this time Tom was on his feet again, standing in front of McKenny.
“You mean, we made it? We’re really in? We’re cadets?”
“That’s right.” McKenny looked at a clip board in his hand and read, “Cadet Corbett, Tom. Qualified for control deck. Cadet Astro. Power deck.”
Astro took a deep breath and started another yell, but before he could let go, McKenny clamped a big hand over his mouth.
“You bellow like that again and I’ll make meteor dust out of you!”
Astro gulped and then matched Tom’s grin with one that spread from ear to ear.
“What happened to Philip Morgan?” asked Tom.
“What color slip did he have?”
“Blue.”
“Anything besides green washed out,” replied Mike quickly. “Now let’s see, you have a replacement for Morgan in this unit. An astrogator.”
“Greetings, gentlemen,” drawled a voice that Tom recognized without even looking. “Allow me to introduce myself to my new unit-mates. My name is Manning—Roger Manning. But then, we’re old friends, aren’t we?”
“Stow that rocket wash, Manning,” snapped Mike. He glanced at the clock over the door. “You have an hour and forty-five minutes until lunch time. I suggest you take a walk around the Academy and familiarize yourselves with the arrangement of the buildings.”
And then, for the first time, Tom saw the hard little spaceman smile.
“I’m glad you made it, boys. All three of you.” He paused and looked at each of them in turn. “And I can honestly say I’m looking forward to the day when I can serve under you!”
He snapped his back straight, gave the three startled boys a crisp salute, executed a perfect about-face and marched out of the room.
“And that,” drawled Roger, strolling to the bunk nearest the window, “is the corniest bit of space gas I’ve ever heard.”
“Listen, Manning!” growled Astro, spinning around quickly to face him.
“Yeah,” purred Roger, his eyes drawn to fine points, hands hanging loosely at his sides. “What would you like me to listen to, Cadet Astro?”
The hulking cadet lunged at Manning, but Tom quickly stepped between them.
“Stow it, both of you!” he shouted. “We’re in this room together, so we might as well make the best of it.”
“Of course, Corbett—of course,” replied Manning easily. He turned his back on Astro, who stood, feet wide apart, neck muscles tight and hands clenched in hamlike fists.
“One of these days I’ll break you in two, Manning. I’ll close that fast-talking mouth of yours for good!”
Astro’s voice was a low growl. Roger stood near the window port and appeared to have forgotten the incident.
The light shining in from the hallway darkened, and Tom turned to see three blue-clad senior cadets arranged in a row just inside the door.
“Congratulations, gentlemen. You’re now qualified cadets of Space Academy,” said a redheaded lad about twenty-one. “My name is Al Dixon,” he turned to his left and right, “and these are cadets Bill Houseman and Rodney Withrop.”
“Hiya,” replied Tom. “Glad to know you. I’m Tom Corbett. This is Astro—and Roger Manning.”
Astro shook hands, the three senior cadets giving a long glance at the size of the hand he offered. Roger came forward smartly and shook hands with a smile.
“We’re sorta like a committee,” began Dixon. “We’ve come to sign you up for the Academy sports program.”
They made themselves comfortable in the room.
“You have a chance to take part in three sports. Free-fall wrestling, mercuryball and space chess.” Dixon glanced at Houseman and Withrop. “From the looks of Cadet Astro, free-fall wrestling should be child’s play for him!”
Astro merely grinned.
“Mercuryball is pretty much like the old game of soccer,” explained Houseman. “But inside the ball is a smaller ball filled with mercury, making it take crazy dips and turns. You have to be pretty fast even to touch it.”
“Sounds like you have to be a little Mercurian yourself,” smiled Tom.
“You do,” replied Dixon. “Oh, yes, you three play as a unit. Competition starts in a few days. So if you’ve never played before, you might go down to the gym and start practicing.”
“You mentioned space chess,” asked Roger. “What’s that?”
“It’s really nothing more than maneuvers. Space maneuvers,” said Dixon. “A glass case, a seven-foot cube, is divided by light shafts into smaller cubes of equal shape and size. Each man has a complete space squadron. Three model rocket cruisers, six destroyers and ten scouts. The ships are filled with gas to make them float, and your power is derived from magnetic force. The problem is to get a combination of cruisers and destroyers and scouts into a space section where it could knock out your opponent’s ships.”
“You mean,” interrupted Astro, “you’ve got to keep track of all those ships at once?”
“Don’t worry, Astro,” commented Roger quickly. “You use your muscles to win for dear old 42-D in free-fall wrestling. Corbett here can pound down the grassy field for a goal in mercuryball, and I’ll do the brainwork of space chess.”
The three visiting cadets exchanged sharp glances.
“Everybody plays together, Manning,” said Dixon. “You three take part in each sport as a unit.”
“Of course,” nodded Roger. “Of course—as a unit.”
The three cadets stood up, shook hands all around and left. Tom immediately turned to Manning.
“What was the idea of that crack about brains?”
Manning slouched over to the window port and said over his shoulder, “I don’t know how you and your king-sized friend here passed the classifications test, Corbett, and I don’t care. But, as you say, we’re a unit. So we might as well make adjustments.”
He turned to face them with a cold stare.
“I know this Academy like the palm of my hand,” he went on. “Never mind how, just take it for granted. I know it. I’m here for the ride. For a special reason I wouldn’t care to have you know. I’ll get my training and then pull out.”
He took a step forward, his face a mask of bitterness.
“So from now on, you two guys leave me alone. You bore me to death with your emotional childish allegiance