Tom Corbett Space Cadet

by Carey Rockwell

  "That so? What is it?" asked Strong.

  "They have an old chemical-burning space freighter in which they're going to take fair visitors up for a short ride. You see, the big one, Gus Wallace, is an old deep-space merchantman. The smaller one is Luther Simms, a rocketman."

  "Hm. Not a bad idea at all," mused Strong. "They should make out all right."

  With that, the two Solar Guard officers dropped the incident of Wallace and Simms and turned to exchanging news of mutual friends and of what each had been doing since their last meeting. Finally, as the conversation was brought around to the exposition, Hawks got up and sat on the side of the desk, facing Strong and the cadets. His eyes glowed as he spoke.

  "Steve," he said, "this is going to be the greatest gathering of minds, thoughts, and ideas in the knowledgeable history of mankind! There are going to be lectures from the greatest minds in the system on any and all subjects you can think of. In one building we're going to build a whole spaceship—a rocket cruiser—piece by piece, right in front of the eyes of fair visitors. In another building we're going to have the greatest collection of musicians in the universe, continuously playing the most beautiful music, in a hall built to seat a half million people. Industry, science, medicine, art, literature, astrophysics, space flight, to say nothing of a comparative history exhibit designed to show the people where our forefathers went off the track by warring against each other. In fact, Steve, everything you can think of, and then more, will be represented here at the exposition. Why, do you know I've been working for three years, co-ordinating ideas, activity, and information!"

  Strong and the cadets sat transfixed as they listened to the commissioner speak in glowing terms of the exposition, which, until this time, by the cadets at least, had been considered little more than a giant amusement park. Finally Strong managed to say, "And we thought the Polaris was going to be so big, it'd be the center of attraction." He smiled.

  Hawks waved his hand. "Look, I don't want to offend you or the boys, Steve, but the fact is, the Polaris is one of the smaller exhibits!"

  "I can see that now," answered Strong. "Tell me, Mike, just what do you want us to do?"

  "I'll answer that in two parts. First, I would like the cadets to set up the Polaris, get her shining and bright, and with quiet courtesy, answer any question anyone might ask concerning the ship, referring any question they can't answer to the information center in the Space Building."

  "That's all, sir?" asked Tom incredulously.

  "That's all, Corbett. You open the Polaris at nine in the morning and close her at nine at night. You'll be living aboard, of course."

  "Yes, sir. Of course, sir."

  "That sounds so simple," drawled Roger, "it might be tough."

  "It will be tough, Manning," commented Hawks. "Don't fool yourself into assuming otherwise."

  "Don't worry about these boys, Mike. Now, what is part two?" Strong asked.

  Hawks smiled. "Here it is, Steve. The Solar Alliance has decided to open the exposition with a simple speech made by a relatively unknown person, but one who is deserving of such an honor. They left the choice of that person up to me." He paused and added quietly, "I'd like you to make that opening speech, Steve."

  "Me!" cried Strong. "Me, make a speech?"

  "I can't think of anyone more deserving—or dependable."

  "But—but—" stammered the captain, "I can't make a speech. I wouldn't know what to say."

  "Say anything you want. Just make it short and to the point."

  Strong hesitated a moment. He realized it was a great honor, but his naturally shy personality kept him from accepting.

  "Steve, it may make it easier for you to know," said Hawks teasingly, "that there's going to be a giant capsule lowered into the ground which will contain a record of every bit of progress made since the inception of the Solar Alliance. It's designed to show the men of the future how to do everything from treating a common cold to exploding nuclear power. This capsule will be lowered at the end of your opening address. So, most of the attention will be focused on the capsule, not you." The commissioner smiled.

  "All right, Mike," said Strong, grinning sheepishly. "You've got yourself a speechmaker!"

  "Good!" said Hawks and the two men shook hands.

  Tom Corbett could contain himself no longer. "Congratulations, sir!" he blurted out as the three cadets stood up. "We think Commissioner Hawks couldn't have made a better choice!" His unit-mates nodded a vigorous assent.

  Strong shook hands with the cadets and thanked them.

  "You want the cadets for anything right now, Mike?" asked Strong.

  "Not a thing, Steve."

  Strong turned back to the boys. "Better hop out to the spaceport and get the Polaris over the exposition site, cadets. Soon as you set her down, clean her up a little, then relax. I'll be at the Galaxy Hotel if you need me."

  "Yes, sir," said Tom.

  The cadets saluted sharply and left the office.

  Arriving at the spaceport, they found the Polaris stripped of her guns and her galley stocked with food. The chief petty officer in charge of the enlisted spacemen detail was roving through the passageways of the rocket cruiser when Tom found him.

  "Everything set, chief?" asked Tom.

  "All set, Cadet Corbett," reported the elderly spaceman, saluting smartly. He gave Tom a receipt for the list of the equipment that had been removed from the ship and signed the logbook. Tom thanked him and made a hurried check of the control deck, with Roger and Astro reporting from the radar and power decks. With the precision and assurance of veteran spacemen, the three Space Cadets lifted the great ship up over the heart of the sprawling Venusian city and brought it down gently in the clearing provided for it at the exposition site, a grassy square surrounded on three sides by buildings of shimmering crystal walls.

  No sooner had the giant ship settled itself to the ground, than a crew of exposition workers began laying a slidewalk toward her, while another crew began the construction of an aluminum staircase to the entrance port in her giant fin.

  Almost before they realized it, Tom, Roger, and Astro found themselves busy with a hundred little things concerning the ship and their part in the fair. They were visited by the subcommissioner of the exposition and advised of the conveniences provided for the participants of the fair. Then, finally, as a last worker finished the installation of a photoelectric cell across the entrance port to count visitors to the ship, Tom, Roger, and Astro began the dirty job of washing down the giant titanium hull with a special cleaning fluid, while all around them the activity of the fair buzzed with nervous excitement.

  Suddenly the three cadets heard the unmistakable roar of jets in the sky. Automatically, they looked up and saw a spaceship, nose up, decelerating as it came in for a touchdown on a clearing across one of the wide spacious streets of the fairgrounds.

  "Well, blast my jets!" exclaimed Astro, his eyes clinging to the flaming exhausts as the ship lowered itself to the ground.

  "That craft must be at least fifty years old!"

  "I've got a rocket-blasting good idea, Tom," said Roger.

  The exit port of the spaceship opened, and the three cadets watched Gus Wallace and Luther Simms climb down the ladder.

  "Hey," yelled Roger, "better be careful with that broken-down old boiler. It might blow up!"

  The two men glared at the grinning Roger but didn't answer.

  "Take it easy, Roger," cautioned Tom. "We don't want to start anything that might cause us and Captain Strong trouble before the fair even opens. So let's leave them alone."

  "What are you afraid of?" drawled Roger, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Just a little fun with those guys won't hurt." He stepped to the side of the clearing and leaned over the fence separating the two areas.

  "Tell me something, spaceman," he yelled to Wallace, who was busy with some gear at the base of the ship, "you don't expect people to pay to ride that thing, do you?" He smiled derisively and added, "Got insurance t
o cover the families?"

  "Listen, punk!" sneered Wallace, "get back over to your Solar Guard space toy and keep your trap shut!"

  "Now—now—" jeered Roger, "mustn't get nasty. Remember, we're going to be neighbors. Never can tell when you might want to borrow some baling wire or chewing gum to keep your craft together!"

  "Look, wise guy, one more crack out of you, and I'll send you out of this world without a spaceship!" snarled Wallace through grating teeth.

  "Any time you'd like to try that, you know where I am," Roger snapped back.

  "Okay, punk! You asked for it," yelled Wallace. He had been holding a length of chain and now he swung it at Roger. The cadet ducked easily, hopped over the fence, and before Wallace knew what was happening, jolted him with three straight lefts and a sharp right cross. Wallace went down in a heap, out cold.

  Luther Simms, who had been watching the affair from one side, now rushed at Roger with a monkey wrench. With the ferocity of a bull, Astro roared at the small spaceman, who stopped as if pulled up by a string. Roger spun around, made an exaggerated bow, and smiling, asked, "Next?"

  At this point, aware that things were getting a bit thick, Tom strode across the clearing, and grabbing the still smiling Roger, pulled him away.

  "Are you space happy?" he asked, "You know you goaded him into swinging that chain, Roger. And that makes you entirely responsible for what just happened!"

  "Yeah," growled Astro. "Suppose he had hit you with it, then what?"

  Roger, still grinning, glanced over his shoulder and saw Simms helping Wallace to his feet. He turned to Astro, threw his arm over the big cadet's shoulder, and drawled, "Why, then you'd have just taken them apart to avenge me! Wouldn't you, pal?"

  "Aw, stow it," snapped Tom. For a second Roger looked at him sharply, then broke into a smile again. "O.K., Tom, I'm sorry," he said. "O.K., let's get back to work," ordered Tom.

  Back at the Polaris, as they continued cleaning the hull of the ship, Tom saw the two men disappear into their craft, throwing dirty looks back at the three cadets as they went.

  "You know, Roger, I think you made a very bad mistake," he said. "One way or another, they'll try to even the score with you."

  "And it won't be just a report to Captain Strong," added Astro darkly.

  Roger, cocky and unafraid, broke out his engaging grin again and shrugged his shoulders.

  CHAPTER 3

  "…. And so we dedicate this capsule to the civilizations of the future. Those who may dig this cylinder out of the ground in ages to come will find within it the tools, the inventions, and the scientific wonders which have made the era of the Solar Alliance one of peace and lasting prosperity."

  Captain Steve Strong paused, glanced at the huge crane and the shimmering steel capsule that dangled at the end of a cable, then called out, "Lower the capsule!"

  The cheers of a hundred thousand people massed in the exposition plaza greeted the order. The stereo camera and teleceiver scanners that were sending the opening ceremonies of the Solar Exposition to all parts of the Alliance moved in to focus on the capsule as it was lowered into a deep, concrete-lined pit.

  The three members of the Polaris unit, standing to one side of the platform, joined in the cheers as their skipper shook hands with the delegates and waved again and again at the roaring crowd.

  "That was some speech, Tom," commented Roger. "I wonder who wrote it for him?"

  "He wrote it himself, Roger," replied Tom.

  "Ah, go on," scoffed Roger.

  "Sure he did," said Astro indignantly. "He sweated over it for nearly a week."

  "Here he comes," said Tom. The three cadets watched Captain Strong, resplendent in his dress gold-and-black uniform, fight his way off the platform, shaking hands with congratulating strangers along the way.

  "Congratulations, Captain Strong," said Tom with a smile.

  "That was swell!" Roger and Astro chorused their agreement.

  "Thanks, boys," gasped Strong. "But let me tell you, I never want to do that again. I was never so scared in my life!"

  "Just making a speech?" asked Roger. "After all the lectures you've given at Space Academy?"

  "They weren't before teleceiver and stereo cameras." Strong laughed. "Do you realize this ceremony is being seen on Mars, Earth, and all the colonized moons, clear out to Titan."

  "Wow!" breathed Astro. "That would make me tongue-tied!"

  "Huh! All that to stick a metal box into the ground," snorted Roger.

  "It's not the capsule, Roger," said Tom. "It's what's inside the capsule."

  "Right, Tom," said Strong. "Inside that capsule scientists have packed the whole history of man's march through the stars. They've included scientific formulas, medical, cultural, and industrial facts. Everything we know. Even some things that are known by only a handful of the most trusted men in the universe!" Strong stopped suddenly and laughed. "There I go, making another speech! Come on. Let's get out of here," he cried.

  "Do we start showing people through the Polaris now, sir?" asked Astro.

  "In the morning, Astro," replied Strong. "Tonight there's a big Solar Alliance banquet. You three are invited, too."

  "Er—" stammered Roger, "you mean—a banquet—with—uh—?"

  Strong laughed. "More speeches? I'm afraid so, Manning. Of course there'll be plenty of food."

  "Well, it's not that we're against speeches," ventured Astro.

  "Not yours anyway, sir," added Tom hastily. "But what we mean, sir, is that—"

  Strong held up his hand. "I understand perfectly. Suppose you stay here on the exposition grounds. Have a look around. See the sights, have some fun."

  "Yes, sir!" The boys chorused their reply.

  "Just don't spend all your credits at the first booth," continued Strong. "And watch that Venusian cloud candy. It's good, but murder on the Earthman's stomach."

  "Captain Strong!" A voice called from the platform above. It was one of the Venusian delegates. "They want some pictures of you!"

  "Be right there, sir," replied Strong. He turned to the boys and smiled. "You're lucky you don't have to go through this. See you aboard ship later." Spinning quickly on his heel, he made his way back through the crowd to the platform.

  "What a great guy," sighed Tom.

  "Sure is," agreed Astro.

  "Well, fellas," announced Roger, "we've got twelve hours liberty and a small scale model of the whole solar system to have fun in! What're we waiting for?"

  Fighting their way through the crowds in the plaza, the three boys finally reached the amusement area where they wandered among gaily colored booths and plastic tents, their eyes lighting up with each new attraction.

  Two hours later, stuffed with spaceburgers and Martian water, their arms loaded with assorted prizes, won by Astro's prowess in the weight-lifting booth, Tom's skill as a marksman, and Roger's luck at the wheels of chance, the cadets wearily returned to the Polaris.

  As they neared their section of the fair site they heard a harsh voice appealing to a small crowd around the stand in front of Wallace and Simms' spaceship. A huge sign spelled out the attraction: RIDE IN SPACE—ONE CREDIT.

  Luther Simms, a bamboo cane in one hand, a roll of tickets in another, was hawking his attraction to the bystanders.

  "Step right up, ladies and gentlemen! Step right up! It's a thrill of a lifetime, the greatest sensation of the entire exposition. Ride a rocket ship, and all this for one credit! A lone, single credit, ladies and gents, will buy you a pathway to the stars! Step right up—"

  In laughing groups, the crowd around the stand began to purchase tickets and climb aboard the old freighter.

  The three cadets watched from the outer edge of the crowd.

  "Hey, fellas," said Roger suddenly, "whaddya say we go?"

  "What?" gulped Astro. "On that thing?"

  "Why not?" urged Roger.

  "But that hulk should have been shipped back to the scrap furnace years ago!" Tom protested.

  "So what,
Junior?" drawled Roger. "Scared?"

  "Don't be silly," replied Tom. "But with all the other things to do here, why should we—"

  "Oh," said Astro, nudging Tom, "now I get it!"

  "You get what?" asked Roger innocently.

  "Those girls," said Astro. "They're just climbing aboard."

  Glancing at the air lock, Tom saw three young and pretty girls file into the ship. "Oh, so that's it, huh?" he said, looking quizzically at his unit-mate.

  Tom saw three pretty girls board the ship

  The blond cadet's eyes were wide with mock surprise.

  "Girls? Well, what do you know about that? I never noticed!"

  "Yeah, I'll bet you didn't!" said Tom.

  "Well, they are trim little space dolls. And there are three of them!"

  "Come on, Astro," sighed Tom. "We have to give the little boy his fun."

  They walked toward the stand where Simms was still making his pitch to the crowd.

  "Just five more seats left, ladies and gentlemen, only five chances to blast into space…"

  Tom stepped up and put three credits on the counter. "Three, please," he said.

  Simms looked down and suddenly stopped his harangue. His eyes narrowed with suspicion as he saw the three cadets standing before him. Hesitating, he glanced around, seemingly looking for help. Then, shrugging his shoulders, he handed over the tickets and turned to the crowd. "Three tickets for the Space Cadets, who live out there in space. Just can't stay away from it, eh, boys?"

  "I only hope that tub of yours holds together," said Tom.

  Simms snarled out of the side of his mouth, "Shut up, wise guy!" And then continued aloud, "Yes, Space Cadet, I agree with you. Everyone should take a trip into space."

  Tom started to protest, but then shrugged his shoulders and followed Roger and Astro into the ship. On the stand, Simms continued his appeal to the crowd.

  "Just two more tickets left, ladies and gentlemen! Who'll be the lucky two?"