“Say, Nick,” said Connel, addressing the man by his given name for the first time, “you remember the time it took me four hours to find that bottle of rocket juice you hid on that old Titan freighter?”
Shinny cackled, his thin voice coming over the headphones of the others as well as Connel’s.
“I sure do, Lou!” replied Shinny, using Connel’s first name. They were just old spacemen now, reliving old times together. “Funny thing, though, you never knew I had two more bottles hidden in the tube chamber!”
“Why, you old space crawler!” roared Connel. “You put one over on me!”
Roger and Astro and Alfie had never known Connel’s first name. They rolled the name over in their minds, fitting the name to the man. Unknown to each other, they decided that the name fitted the man. Lou Connel!
“Say, Lou,” asked Shinny, “where in the blessed universe did you come from? You never told me.”
There was a long pause. “A place called Telfair Estates, in the deep South on the North American continent. I was raised on a farm close by. I used to go fishing late at night and stare up at the stars.” He paused again. “I ran away from home. I don’t know if—if—anyone’s still there or not. I never went back!”
There was a long silence as each man saw a small boy fishing late at night, barefoot, his toes dangling in the water, a worm wiggling on the end of a string, more interested in the stars that twinkled overhead than in any fish that might swim past and seize the hook.
“Where are you from, Nick?” asked Connel.
“Born in space,” cackled Shinny, “on a passenger freighter carrying colonists out to Titan. Never had a breath of natural fresh air until I was almost a grown man. Nothing but synthetic stuff under the atmosphere screens. My father was a mining engineer. I was the only kid. One night a screen busted and nearly everybody suffocated or froze to death. My pa and ma was among ’em. I blasted off after that. Been in the deep ever since. And you know, by the blessed rings of Saturn, I’d be on a nice farm near Venusport, living on a pension, if you hadn’t kicked me out of the Solar Guard!”
“Why, you broken down old piece of space junk,” roared Connel, “I oughta—” Connel never finished what he was going to say.
“Attention! Attention! Roger—Astro—Major Connel—come in, please! This is Tom on the Polaris!”
As if they had been struck by a bolt of lightning, the five spacemen sat up and then raced to the jet boat.
“Connel to Corbett!” roared the major. “Where are you? What happened?”
“I haven’t got time to explain now, sir,” said Tom. “Loring and Mason escaped and forced me to take them to Tara. I managed to overcome them and blast back here. Meet me up about fifty miles above Junior, sir. I’m bringing the Polaris in!”
“No!” yelled Connel. “It’s no use, Tom. We’re out of fuel. We’ve used up all our power.”
“Then stand by,” said Tom grimly. “I’m coming in for a landing!”
“No, Tom!” roared Connel. “There’s nothing you can do. We’re too far into the sun’s pull. You’ll never blast off again!”
“I don’t care if we all wind up as cinders,” said Tom, “I’m coming in!”
The communicator went dead and from the left, over the close horizon of the small satellite, the Polaris swept into view like a red-tailed fire dragon. It shot up in a pretouchdown maneuver, and then began to drop slowly to the surface of the planetoid.
No sooner had the Polaris touched the dry airless ground than the air-lock hatch was opened. From the crystal port on the control deck, Tom waved to the men below him.
Shinny climbed into the lock first, followed by Astro, Alfie, Roger, and Connel. While Roger and Alfie closed the hatch, Astro and Connel adjusted the oxygen pressure and waited for the supply to build to normal. At last the hissing stopped, and the hatch to the inner part of the ship opened. Tom greeted them with a smile and an outstretched hand.
“Glad to have you aboard!” he joked.
After the back slapping between Roger, Astro, and Tom was over, Connel questioned Tom on his strange departure from the satellite.
“It was just like I told you, sir,” explained Tom. “They got out of the brig,” he paused, not mentioning the spoon that Loring had used or how he had gotten it. “They forced me to take them to Tara. I managed to get the gravity turned off and gave them a lesson in free-fall fighting. They’re still frozen stiff up on the control deck.”
“Good boy!” said Connel. “I’ll go and have a talk with them. Meantime, Astro, you and Shinny and Alfie get below and see how much fuel we have in emergency supply. We’re going to need every ounce we have.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” said Astro. The three hurried to the power deck.
Connel followed Roger and Tom to the control deck. Loring and Mason were still in the positions they were in when Tom had fired his paralo-ray. Connel took Tom’s gun and switched to the neutralizer. He fired twice and the two men rose shakily to their feet. Connel faced them, his eyes burning.
“I’m going to say very little to you two space-crawling rats!” snapped Connel. “I’m not going to lock you in the brig; I’m not going to confine you in any manner. But if you make one false move, I’ll court-martial you right here and now! You’ve caused enough trouble with your selfishness, jeopardizing the lives of six men. If we fail to get off this satellite, it’ll be because you put us in this position. Now get below and see what aid you can give Astro. And if either of you so much as raises your voice, I’m going to let him take care of you! Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir!” mumbled Loring. “We understand, sir. And we’ll do everything we can to—to—make up for what we’ve done.”
“The only thing you can do is to stay out of my sight!” said Connel coldly.
Loring and Mason scuttled past Connel and climbed down to the power deck.
“Attention! Attention! Control deck—Major Connel! Sir, this is Roger on the radar bridge. I just checked over Tom’s figures on thrust, sir, and I’m not sure, but I think we’ve passed the point of safety.”
“Thanks, Roger,” said Connel. He turned to the intercom. “Power deck, check in!”
“Power deck, aye,” said Astro.
“Loring and Mason there?” asked Connel.
“Yes, sir. I’m putting them right to work in the radiation chamber, sir. I’m piling all emergency fuel into the reaction chambers to try for one big push!”
“Why?” asked Connel.
“I heard what Roger said, sir,” replied Astro. “This’ll give us enough thrust to clear the sun’s gravity, but there’s something else that might not take it.”
“What?” asked Connel.
“The cooling pumps, sir,” said Astro. “They may not be able to handle a load as hot as this. We might blow up.”
Connel considered this a moment. “Do what you can, Astro. I