CHAPTER 3

"Blast off--minus--five--four--three--two--one--_zero_!"

As the main drive rockets blasted into life, Tom fell back in his seat

before the control panel of the _Polaris_ and felt the growing thrust as

the giant ship lifted off the ground, accelerating rapidly. He kept his

eyes on the teleceiver screen and saw Space Academy fall away behind

them. On the power deck Astro lay strapped in his acceleration cushion,

his outstretched hand on the emergency booster rocket switch should the

main rockets fail before the ship could reach the free fall of space. On

the radar bridge Roger watched the far-flung stars become brighter as

the rocket ship hurtled through the dulling layers of the atmosphere.

As soon as the ship reached weightless space, Tom flipped on the gravity

generators and put the _Polaris_ on her course to Venus. Almost

immediately the intercom began to blast.

"Now hear this!" Major Connel's voice roared. "Corbett, Manning, and

Astro! I don't want any of your space-blasted nonsense on this trip! Get

this ship to Venusport in the shortest possible time without burning out

the pump bearings. And, Manning--!"

"Yes, sir," replied the blond-haired cadet.

"If I so much as hear one wisecrack between you and that overgrown

rocket jockey, Astro, I'll log both of you twenty-five demerits!"

"I understand, sir," acknowledged Roger lazily. "I rather appreciate

your relieving me of the necessity of speaking to that space ape!"

Listening to their voices on the control deck, Tom grinned and waited

expectantly. He wasn't disappointed.

"Ape!" came a bull-like roar from the power deck. "Why, you skinny

moth-eaten piece of space junk--"

"Cadet Astro!"

"Yes, sir?" Astro was suddenly meek.

"If you say one more word, I'll bury you in demerits!"

"But, sir--"

"No _buts_!" roared Connel. "And you, Manning--!"

"Yes, sir?" chimed in Roger innocently.

"Keep your mouth shut!"

"Very well, sir," said Roger.

"Corbett?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm putting you in charge of monitoring the intercom. If those two

space idiots start jabbering again, call me. That's an order! I'll be in

my quarters working." Connel switched off abruptly.

"You hear that, fellows?" said Tom. "Knock it off."

"O.K., Tom," replied Roger, "just keep him out of my sight."

"That goes for me, too," added Astro. "Ape! Just wait till I--"

"Astro!" Tom interrupted sharply.

"O.K., O.K.," groaned the big cadet.

Glancing over the panel once more and satisfying himself that the ship

was functioning smoothly, Tom sighed and settled back in his seat,

enjoying the temporary peace and solitude. It had been a tough year,

filled with intensive study in the quest for an officer's commission in

the Solar Guard. Space Academy was the finest school in the world, but

it was also the toughest. The young cadet shook his head, remembering a

six-weeks' grind he, Roger, and Astro had gone through on a nuclear

project. Knowing how to operate an atomic rocket motor was one thing,

but understanding what went on inside the reactant pile was something

else entirely. Never had the three cadets worked harder, or more closely

together. But Astro's thorough, practical knowledge of basic nucleonics,

combined with Roger's native wizardry at higher mathematics, and his own

understanding of the theory, had enabled them to pull through with a

grade of seventy-two, the highest average ever made by a cadet unit not

specializing in physics.

As the ship rocketed smoothly through the airless void of space toward

the misty planet of Venus, Tom made another quick but thorough check of

the panel, and then returned to his reflections on the past term. It had

been particularly difficult since they had missed many valuable hours of

classroom work and study because of their adventure on the new colony of

Roald (as described in _The Space Pioneers_), but they had come through

somehow. He shook his head wondering how they had made it. Forty-two

units had washed out during the term. Instead of getting easier, the

courses of study were getting more difficult all the time, and in his

speech on the parade grounds, Commander Walters had promised--

"Emergency!"

Roger's voice over the intercom brought Tom out of his reverie sharply.

"All hands," continued the cadet on the radar bridge hurriedly, "secure

your stations and get to the jet-boat deck on the double! Emergency!"

As the sharp clang of the emergency alarm rang out, Tom did not stop to

question Roger's sudden order. Neutralizing all controls, he leaped for

the hatch leading below. Taking the ladder four steps at a time, Tom saw

Major Connel tear out of his quarters. The elder spaceman dived for the

ladder himself, not stopping to ask questions. He was automatic in his

reliance on the judgment of others. The few seconds spent in talk could

mean the difference between life and death in space where you seldom got

a second chance.

Tom and Connel arrived on the jet-boat deck to find Astro already

preparing the small space craft for launching. As they struggled into

space suits, Roger appeared. In answer to their questioning looks, he

explained laconically, "Unidentifiable object attached to ship on fin

parallel to steering vanes. Thought we'd better go outside first and

examine later."

Connel nodded his mute agreement, and thirty seconds later the tiny jet

boat was blasting out of the escape lock into space.

Circling around the ship to the stern, the jet boat, under Major

Connel's sure touch, stopped fifty feet from the still glowing, exhaust

tubes. He and the three cadets stared out at a small metallic boxlike

object attached to the underside of the stabilizer fin.

"What do you suppose it is?" asked Astro.

"I don't know," replied Roger, "but it sure doesn't belong there. That's

why I rang the emergency on you."

"You were absolutely right, Manning," asserted Connel. "If it's

harmless, we can always get back aboard and nothing's been lost except a

little time." He rose from the pilot's seat and stepped toward the

hatch. "Come with me, Corbett. We'll have a look. And bring the

radiation counter along."

"Aye, aye, sir!"

Tom reached into a near-by locker, and pulling out a small, rectangular

box with a round hornlike grid in its face, plunged out of the hatch

with Major Connel and blasted across the fifty-foot gap to the

stabilizer fin of the _Polaris_.

Connel gestured toward the object on the fin. "See if she's hot,

Corbett."

The young cadet pressed a small button on the counter and turned the

horn toward the mysterious box. Immediately the needle on the dial above

the horn jumped from white to pink and finally red, quivering against

the stop pin.

"Hot!" exclaimed Tom. "She almost kicked the pin off!"

"Get off the ship!" roared Connel. "It's a fission bomb with a time

fuse!"

Tom dove at the box and tried to pull it off the stabilizer, but Major

Connel grabbed him by the arm and wrenched him out into space.

"You space-blasted idiot!" Connel growled. "That thing's liable to go

off any second! Get away from here!"

With a mighty shove, the spaceman sent Tom flying out toward the jet

boat and then jumped to safety himself. Within seconds he and the young

cadet were aboard the jet boat again and, not stopping to answer Astro's

or Roger's questions, he jammed his foot down hard on the acceleration

lever, sending the tiny ship blasting away from the _Polaris_.

Not until they were two miles away from the stricken rocket ship did

Connel bring the craft to a stop. He turned and gazed helplessly at the

gleaming hull of the _Polaris_.

"So they know," he said bitterly. "They're trying to stop me from even

reaching Venus."

The three cadets looked at each other and then at the burly spaceman,

bewilderment in their eyes.

"What's this all about, sir?" Roger finally asked.

"I'm not at liberty to tell you, Manning," replied Connel. "Though I

want to thank you for your quick thinking. How did you happen to

discover the bomb?"

"I was sighting on Regulus for a position check and Regulus was dead

astern, so when I swung the periscope scanner around, I spotted that

thing stuck to the fin. I didn't bother to think about it, I just

yelled."

[Illustration]

"Glad you did," nodded Connel and turned to stare at the _Polaris_

again. "Now I'm afraid we'll just have to wait until that bomb goes

off."

"Isn't there anything we can do?" asked Tom.

"Not a blasted thing," replied Connel grimly. "Thank the universe we

shut off all power. If that baby had blown while the reactant was

feeding into the firing chambers, we'd have wound up a big splash of

nothing."

"This way," commented Astro sourly, "it'll just blast a hole in the side

of the ship."

"We might be able to repair that," said Tom hopefully.

"There she goes!" shouted Roger.

[Illustration]

Staring out the windshield, they saw a sudden blinding flash of light

appear over the stern section of the _Polaris_, a white-hot blaze of

incandescence that made them flinch and crouch back.

"By the craters of Luna!" exclaimed Connel.

Before their eyes they saw the stabilizer fin melt and curl under the

intense heat of the bomb. There was no sound or shock wave in the vacuum

of space, but they all shuddered as though an overwhelming force had

swept over them. Within seconds the flash was gone and the _Polaris_ was

drifting in the cold blackness of space! The only outward damage visible

was the twisted stabilizer, but the boys realized that she must be a

shambles within.

"I guess we'll have to wait a while before we go back aboard. There

might be radioactivity around the hull," Roger remarked.

"I don't think so," said Tom. "The _Polaris_ was still coasting when we

left her. We cut out the drive rockets, but we didn't brake her. She's

probably drifted away from the radioactivity already."

"Corbett's right," said Connel. "A hot cloud would be a hundred miles

away by now." He pressed down on the acceleration lever and the jet boat

eased toward the ship. Edging cautiously toward the stern of the

spaceship, they saw the blasted section of the fin already cooling in

the intense cold of outer space.

"Think I'd better call a Solar Guard patrol ship, sir?" asked Roger.

"Let's wait until we check the damage, Manning," replied Connel.

"Yeah," chimed in Astro grimly, "if I can help it, I'm going to bring

the _Polaris_ in." He paused and then added, "If I have to carry her on

my back."

As soon as a quick check with the radiation counter showed them that the

hull was free of radioactivity, Major Connel and the three cadets

re-entered the ship.

While the lack of atmosphere outside had dissipated the full force of

the blast, the effect on the inside of the ship, where Earth's air

pressure was maintained, was devastating. Whole banks of delicate

machinery were torn from the walls and scattered over the decks. The

precision instruments of the inner hull showed no signs of leakage, and

the oxygen-circulating machinery could still function on an auxiliary

power hookup.

Completing the quick survey of the ship, Major Connel realized that they

would never be able to continue their flight to Venus and instructed

Roger to contact the nearest Solar Guard patrol ship to pick them up.

"The _Polaris_ will have to be left in space," continued Connel, "and a

maintenance crew will be sent out to see if she can be repaired. If they

decide it isn't worth the labor, they'll junk her here in space."

The faces of the three cadets fell.

"But there's no real damage on her power deck, sir," said Astro. "And

the hull is in good shape, except for the stabilizer fin and some of the

stern plates. Why, sometimes a green Earthworm unit will crack a fin on

their first touchdown."

"And the radar deck can be patched up easy, sir," spoke up Roger. "With

some new tubes and a few rolls of wire I could have her back in shape in

no time."

"That goes for the control deck, too!" said Tom doggedly. Then, after a

quick glance at his unit mates, he faced Connel squarely. "I think it

goes without saying, sir, that we'd appreciate it very much if you could

recommend that she be restored instead of junked."

Connel allowed himself a smile in the face of such obvious love for the

ship. "You forget that to repair her out in space, the parts have to be

hauled from Venus. But I'll see what I can do. Meantime, Roger, see if

you can't get that patrol ship to give us a lift to Venusport. Tell the

C.O. I'm aboard and on urgent official business."

"Yes, sir," said Roger.

"And," continued the spaceman, noticing the downcast looks of Tom and

Astro, "it wouldn't hurt if you two started repairing as much as you

can. So when the maintenance crew arrives, they won't find her in such a

mess."

"Yes, sir!" chorused the two cadets happily.

Connel returned to his quarters and sat down heavily in the remains of

his bunk, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Somehow, word had gotten out

that he was going to check on the secret organization on Venus and

someone had made a bold and desperate attempt to stop him before he

could get started. It infuriated him to think that anyone would

interrupt official business. As far as Connel was concerned, nothing

came before official business. And he was doubly furious at the danger

to the three cadets, who had innocently hitched a ride on what was

almost a death ship. Someone was going to pay, Connel vowed, clenching

his huge fists--and pay dearly.

[Illustration]