CHAPTER 1

"Emergency air lock open!"

The tall, broad-shouldered officer, wearing the magnificent

black-and-gold uniform of the Solar Guard, spoke into a small microphone

and waited for an acknowledgment. It came almost immediately.

"Cadet Corbett ready for testing," a voice crackled thinly over the

loud-speaker.

"Very well. Proceed."

Seated in front of the scanner screen on the control deck of the rocket

cruiser _Polaris_, Captain Steve Strong replaced the microphone in its

slot and watched a bulky figure in a space suit step out of the air lock

and drift away from the side of the ship. Behind him, five boys, all

dressed in the vivid blue uniforms of the Space Cadet Corps, strained

forward to watch the lone figure adjust the nozzles of the jet unit on

the back of his space suit.

"Come on, Tom!" said the biggest of the five boys, his voice a low,

powerful rumble as he rooted for his unit mate.

"If Tom makes this one," crowed the cadet next to him, a slender boy

with a thick shock of close-cropped blond hair, "the _Polaris_ unit is

home free!"

"This is the last test, Manning," replied one of the remaining three

cadets, the insigne of the _Arcturus_ unit on the sleeve of his uniform.

"_If_ Corbett makes this one, you fellows deserve to win."

Aboard the rocket cruiser _Polaris_, blasting through the black void of

space two hundred miles above Earth, six Space Cadets and a Solar Guard

officer were conducting the final test for unit honors for the term. All

other Academy units had been eliminated in open competition. Now, the

results of the individual space orientation test would decide whether

the three cadets of the _Arcturus_ unit or the three cadets of the

_Polaris_ unit would win final top unit honors.

Roger Manning and Astro kept their eyes glued to the telescanner screen,

watching their unit mate, Tom Corbett, drift slowly through space toward

his starting position. The young cadet's task was basically simple; with

his space helmet blacked out so that he could not see in any direction,

he was to make his way back to the ship from a point a mile away, guided

only by the audio orders from the examining officer aboard the ship. His

score was measured by the time elapsed, and the amount of corrections

and orders given by the examining officer. It was an exercise designed

to test a cadet's steadiness under emergency conditions of space.

The three members of the _Arcturus_ unit had completed their runs and

had returned to the ship in excellent time. Roger and Astro had also

taken their tests and now it depended on Tom. If he could return to the

_Polaris_ in less than ten minutes, with no more than three corrections,

the _Polaris_ unit would be victorious.

Seated directly in front of the scanner, Captain Steve Strong, the

examining officer, watched the space-suited figure dwindle to a mere

speck on the screen. As the regular skipper of the _Polaris_ crew, he

could not help secretly rooting for Tom, but he was determined to be

fair, even to the extent of declaring the _Arcturus_ unit the winner,

should the decision be very close. He leaned forward to adjust the focus

on the scanner, bringing the drifting figure into a close-up view, and

then lifted the microphone to his lips.

"Stand by, Corbett!" he called. "You're getting close to range."

"Very well, sir," replied Tom. "Standing by."

Behind Strong, Roger and Astro looked at each other and turned back to

the screen. As one, they crossed the fingers of both hands.

"Ready, Corbett!" called Strong. "You'll be clocked from the second

you're on range. One hundred feet--seventy-five--fifty--twenty-five

--ten--_time_!"

As the signal echoed in his blacked-out space helmet, Tom jerked his

body around in a sudden violent move, and grasping the valve of the jet

unit on his back, he opened it halfway. He waited, holding his breath,

expecting to hear Captain Strong correct his course. He counted to ten

slowly, and when no correction came over the headphones, he opened the

valve wide and blindly shot through space.

Aboard the Polaris, Astro and Roger shouted with joy and Strong could

not repress a grin. The tiny figure on the scanner was hurtling straight

for the side of the _Polaris_!

As the image grew larger and larger, anxious eyes swiveled back and

forth from the scanner screen to the steady sweeping hand of the

chronometer. Roger bit his lip nervously, and Astro's hands trembled.

When Tom reached a point five hundred feet away from the ship, Strong

flipped open the audio circuit and issued his first order.

"Range five hundred feet," he called. "Cut jets!"

"You're already here, spaceboy!" yelled Roger into the mike, leaning

over Strong's shoulder. The captain silenced him with a glare. No one

could speak to the examinee but the testing officer.

Tom closed the valve of his jet unit and blindly jerked himself around

again to drift feet first toward the ship. Strong watched this approach

closely, silently admiring the effortless way the cadet handled himself

in weightless space. When Tom was fifty feet away from the ship, and

still traveling quite fast, Strong gave the second order to break his

speed. Tom opened the valve again and felt the tug of the jets braking

his acceleration. He drifted slower and slower, and realizing that he

was close to the hull of the ship, he stretched his legs, striving to

make contact. Seconds later he felt a heavy thump at the soles of his

feet, and within the ship there was the muffled clank of metal boot

weights hitting the metal skin of the hull.

"_Time!_" roared Strong and glanced at the astral chronometer over his

head. The boys crowded around as the Solar Guard captain quickly

computed Tom's score. "Nine minutes, fifty-one seconds, and two

corrections," he announced, unable to keep the pride out of his voice.

"We win! We win!" roared Roger. "Term honors go to the _Polaris_!"

Roger turned around and began pounding Astro on the chest, and the giant

Venusian picked him up and waltzed him around the deck. The three

members of the _Arcturus_ unit waited until the first flush of victory

died away and then crowded around the two boys to congratulate them.

"Don't forget the cadet who did it," commented Strong dryly, and the

five cadets rushed below to the jet-boat deck to wait for Tom.

When Tom emerged from the air lock a few moments later, Roger and Astro

swarmed all over him, and another wild dance began. Finally, shaking

free of his well-meaning but violent unit mates, he grinned and gasped,

"Well, from that reception, I guess I did it."

"Spaceboy"--Roger smiled--"you made the _Arcturus_ unit look like three

old men in a washtub counting toes!"

"Congratulations, Corbett," said Tony Richards of the _Arcturus_ crew,

offering his hand. "That was really fast maneuvering out there."

"Thanks, Tony." Tom grinned, running his hand through his brown curly

hair. "But I have to admit I was a little scared. Wow! What a creepy

feeling to know you're out in space alone and not able to see anything."

Their excitement was interrupted by Strong's voice over the ship's

intercom. "Stand by, all stations!"

"Here we go!" shouted Roger. "Back to the Academy--and leave!"

"_Yeeeeooooow!_" Astro's bull-like roar echoed through the ship as the

cadets hurried to their flight stations.

As command cadet of the _Polaris_, Tom climbed up to the control deck,

and strapping himself into the command pilot's seat, prepared to get

under way. Astro, the power-deck cadet who could "take apart a rocket

engine and put it back together again with his thumbs," thundered below

to the atomic rockets he loved more than anything else in the universe.

Roger Manning, the third member of the famed _Polaris_ unit, raced up

the narrow ladder leading to the radar bridge to take command of

astrogation and communications.

While Captain Strong and the members of the _Arcturus_ unit strapped

themselves into acceleration cushions, Tom conducted a routine check of

the many gauges on the great control panel before him. Satisfied, he

flipped open the intercom and called, "All stations, check in!"

"Radar deck, aye!" drawled Roger's lazy voice.

"Power deck, aye!" rumbled Astro.

"Energize the cooling pumps!" ordered Tom.

"Cooling pumps, aye!"

The whine of the mighty pumps was suddenly heard, moaning eerily

throughout the ship.

"Feed reactant!"

The sharp hiss of fuel being forced into the rocket engines rose above

the whine of the pumps, and the ship trembled.

"Stand by to blast," called Tom. "Standard space speed!"

Instantly the _Polaris_ shot toward Earth in a long, curving arc.

Moments later, when the huge round ball of the mother planet loomed

large on the scanner screen, Roger's voice reported over the intercom,

"Academy spaceport control gives us approach orbit 074 for touchdown on

Ramp Twelve, Tom."

"074 Ramp Twelve," repeated Tom. "Got it!"

"Twelve!" roared Astro suddenly over the intercom. "Couldn't you make it

closer to the Academy than that, Manning? We'll have to walk two miles

to the nearest slidewalk!"

"Too bad, Astro," retorted Roger, "but I guess if I had to carry around

as much useless muscle and bone as you do, I'd complain too!"

"I'm just not as lucky as you, Manning," snapped Astro quickly. "I don't

have all that space gas to float me around."

"Knock it off, fellows," interjected Tom firmly. "We're going into our

approach."

Lying on his acceleration cushion, Strong looked over at Tony Richards

of the _Arcturus_ unit and winked. Richards winked and smiled back.

"They never stop, do they, sir?"

"When they do," replied Strong, "I'll send all three of them to sick bay

for examination."

"Two hundred thousand feet to Earth's surface," called Tom. "Stand by

for landing operations."

As Tom adjusted the many controls on the complicated operations panel of

the ship, Roger and Astro followed his orders quickly and exactly. "Cut

main drive rockets and give me one-half thrust on forward braking

rockets!" ordered Tom, his eyes glued to the altimeter.

The _Polaris_ shuddered under the sudden reverse in power, then began an

upward curve, nose pointing back toward space. Tom barked another

command. "Braking rockets full! Stand by main drive rockets!"

The sleek ship began to settle tailfirst toward its destination--Space

Academy, U.S.A.

In the heart of a great expanse of cleared land in the western part of

the North American continent, the cluster of buildings that marked Space

Academy gleamed brightly in the noon sun. Towering over the green grassy

quadrangle of the Academy was the magnificent Tower of Galileo, built of

pure Titan crystal which gleamed like a gigantic diamond. With smaller

buildings, including the study halls, the nucleonics laboratory, the

cadet dormitories, mess halls, recreation halls, all connected by

rolling slidewalks--and to the north, the vast area of the spaceport

with its blast-pitted ramps--the Academy was the goal of every boy in

the year A.D. 2353, the age of the conquest of space.

Founded over a hundred years before, Space Academy trained the youth of

the Solar Alliance for service in the Solar Guard, the powerful force

created to protect the liberties of the planets. But from the beginning,

Academy standards were so high, requirements so strict, that not many

made it. Of the one thousand boys enrolled every year, it was expected

that only twenty-one of them would become officers, and of this group,

only seven would be command pilots. The great Solar Guard fleet that

patrolled the space lanes across the millions of miles between the

satellites and planets possessed the finest, yet most complicated,

equipment in the Alliance. To be an officer in the fleet required a

combination of skills and technical knowledge so demanding that eighty

per cent of the Solar Guard officers retired at the age of forty.

High over the spaceport, the three cadets of the _Polaris_ unit, happy

over the prospect of a full month of freedom, concentrated on the task

of landing the great ship on the Academy spaceport. Watching the

teleceiver screen that gave him a view of the spaceport astern of the

ship, Tom called into the intercom, "One thousand feet to touchdown. Cut

braking rockets. Main drive full!"

The thunderous blast of the rockets was his answer, building up into

roaring violence. Shuddering, the great cruiser eased to the ground foot

by foot, perfectly balanced on the fiery exhaust from her main tubes.

Seconds later the giant shock absorbers crunched on the ramp and Tom

closed the master switch cutting all power. He glanced at the astral

chronometer over his head and then turned to speak into the audio log

recorder. "Rocket cruiser _Polaris_ completed space flight one-seven-six

at 1301."

Captain Strong stepped up to Tom and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Secure the _Polaris_, Tom, and tell Astro to get the reactant pile from

the firing chamber ready for dumping when the hot-soup wagon gets here."

The Solar Guard officer referred to the lead-lined jet sled that removed

the reactant piles from all ships that were to be laid up for longer

than three days. "And you'd better get over to your dorm right away,"

Strong continued. "You have to get ready for parade and full Corps

dismissal."

Tom grinned. "Yes, sir!"

"We're blasting off, sir," said Tony Richards, stepping forward with his

unit mates. "Congratulations again, Corbett. I still can't figure out

how you did it so quickly!"

"Thanks, Tony," replied Tom graciously. "It was luck and the pressure of

good competition."

Richards shook hands and then turned to Strong. "Do I have your

permission to leave the ship, sir?" he asked.

"Permission granted," replied Strong. "And have a good leave."

"Thank you, sir."

The three _Arcturus_ cadets saluted and left the ship. A moment later

Roger and Astro joined Strong and Tom on the control deck.

"Well," said Strong, "what nonsense have you three planned for your

leave? Try and see Liddy Tamal. I hear she's making a new stereo about

the Solar Guard. You might be hired as technical assistants." He smiled.

The famous actress was a favorite of the cadets. Strong waited. "Well,

is it a secret?"

"It was your idea, Astro," said Roger. "Go ahead."

"Yeah," said Tom. "You got us into this."

"Well, sir," mumbled Astro, turning red with embarrassment, "we're going

to Venus."

"What's so unusual about going to Venus?" asked Strong.

"We're going hunting," replied Astro.

"Hunting?"

"Yes, sir," gulped the big Venusian. "For tyrannosaurus."

Strong's jaw dropped and he sat down suddenly on the nearest

acceleration cushion. "I expected something a little strange from you

three whiz kids." He laughed. "It would be impossible for you to go home

and relax for a month. But this blasts me! Hunting for a tyrannosaurus!

What are you going to do with it after you catch it?" He paused and then

added, "If you do."

"Eat it," said Astro simply. "Tyrannosaurus steak is delicious!"

Strong doubled with laughter at the seriousness of Astro's expression.

The giant Venusian continued doggedly, "And besides, there's a bounty on

them. A thousand credits for every tyranno head brought in. They're

dangerous and destroy a lot of crops."

Strong straightened up. "All right, all right! Go ahead! Have yourselves

a good time, but don't take any unnecessary chances. I like my cadets to

have all the arms and legs and heads they're supposed to have." He

paused and glanced at his watch. "You'd better get hopping. Astro, did

you get the pile ready for the soup wagon?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Very well, Tom, secure the ship." He came to attention. "Unit,

_stand--to_!"

The three cadets stiffened and saluted sharply.

"Unit dismissed!"

Captain Strong turned and left the ship.

Hurriedly, Tom, Roger, and Astro checked the great spaceship and fifteen

minutes later were racing out of the main air lock. Hitching a ride on a

jet sled to the nearest slidewalk, they were soon being whisked along

toward their quarters. Already, cadet units were standing around in

fresh blues waiting for the call for final dress parade.

At exactly fifteen hundred, the entire Cadet Corps stepped off with

electronic precision for the final drill of the term. By threes, each

unit marching together, with the _Polaris_ unit walking behind the

standard bearers as honor unit, they passed the reviewing stand. Senior

officers of the Solar Guard, delegates from the Solar Alliance, and

staff officers of the Academy accepted their salute. Commander Walters

stood stiffly in front of the stand, his heart filled with pride as he

recognized the honor unit. He had almost washed out the _Polaris_ unit

in the beginning of their Academy training.

Major Lou Connel, Senior Line Officer of the Solar Guard, stepped

forward when the cadets came to a stop and presented Tom, Roger, and

Astro with the emblem of their achievement, a small gold pin in the

shape of a rocket ship. He, too, had had his difficulties with the

_Polaris_ unit, and while he had never been heard to compliment anyone

on anything, expecting nothing but the best all the time, he

nevertheless congratulated them heartily as he gave them their hard-won

trophy.

After several other awards had been presented, Commander Walters

addressed the Cadet Corps, concluding with "... each of you has had a

tough year. But when you come back in four weeks, you'll think this past

term has been a picnic. And remember, wherever you go, whatever you do,

you're Space Cadets! Act like one! But above all, have a good time!

Spaceman's luck!"

A cadet stepped forward quickly, turned to face the line of cadets, and

held up his hands. He brought them down quickly and words of the Academy

song thundered from a thousand voices.

"_From the rocket fields of the Academy

To the far-flung stars of outer space,

We're Space Cadets training to be

Ready for dangers we may face.

Up in the sky, rocketing past,

Higher than high, faster than fast,

Out into space, into the sun,

Look at her go when we give her the gun.

We are Space Cadets, and we are proud to say

Our fight for right will never cease.

Like a cosmic ray, we light the way

To interplanet peace!_"

"_Dis_-missed!" roared Walters. Immediately the precise lines of cadets

turned into a howling mob of eager boys, everyone seemingly running in a

different direction.

"Come on," said Roger. "I've got everything set! Let's get to the

station ahead of the mob."

"But what about our gear?" said Tom. "We've got to get back to the

dorm."

"I had it sent down to the station last night. I got the monorail

tickets to Atom City last week, and reserved seats on the _Venus Lark_

two weeks ago! Come on!"

"Only Roger could handle it so sweetly," sighed Astro. "You know,

hotshot, sometimes I think you're useful!"

The three cadets turned and raced across the quadrangle for the nearest

slidewalk that would take them to the Academy monorail station and the

beginning of their adventure in the jungles of Venus.

[Illustration]