Tom Corbett Space Cadet

by Carey Rockwell

  "Wait, fellows," said Tom. "Let's find out what this is all about."

  "That's all right, Corbett," Vidac broke in. "I appreciate your allegiance. I wouldn't like anyone who would accept another person in place of a friend without putting up a beef." His voice was as smooth as the purr of a cat.

  "How could you have replaced him, mister?" asked Tom, with just a little more self-control than Roger or Astro had shown.

  "Very simple," said Vidac. "Governor Hardy has the final say on all applications, as you know. He has unquestioned authority to appoint, approve, and select anyone he wants. In view of my experience, Governor Hardy was delighted to have me join the Roald expedition."

  The three cadets looked at each other in bewilderment. Finally Tom walked over and stuck out his hand. "We're glad to have you aboard, sir." He managed a smile.

  Reluctantly Roger and Astro followed suit.

  "Thank you, boys," said Vidac with a smile. "I'm sure we'll learn to work together smoothly in these last few days. There are a few changes to be made of course. But it really doesn't matter. You'll be finished with the screening soon."

  "What kind of changes, sir?" asked Tom.

  "Oh, just routine," answered Vidac. "Instead of you seeing the applicants first, I will speak with each one briefly before sending them on to you."

  "What's the matter with the way we've been doing it?" asked Roger with a slight edge to his voice that did not go unnoticed. Vidac looked at the cadet. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes were hard.

  "I think, Cadet Manning," purred Vidac, "that it will be better for you not to question me, or any of my practices. A Space Cadet's first rule is to take orders, not to question them."

  Tom was thinking quickly. It was obvious that Vidac had gone straight to Governor Hardy and had prevailed on him to review his application. Tom could see how Vidac's background would impress the governor. He remembered that there wasn't any real evidence against Vidac. In fact, Tom thought, it was only because Vidac's background was so superior to most of the applicants that he had aroused suspicion at all. Now, with Captain Strong recalled to the Academy, it was only natural for the governor to get the best man for the job. Tom was ready to admit that Vidac's background certainly spoke for itself.

  He looked at the man and grinned. "I'll tell you honestly, sir. When Captain Strong refused your application, it was because—well—"

  Vidac was watching Tom shrewdly. "Well?" he asked quietly.

  "It was because we couldn't understand how a man like you would want to bury yourself on a satellite for seven years when you could get most any kind of job you would want, right here in the Alliance."

  Vidac hesitated just a second, and then his face broke into a broad grin. "You know, Corbett, you're right! Absolutely right! I can see where you three boys have done a fine job for the governor." He slapped Astro on the back and threw his arm around Tom's shoulder, speaking to them in a suddenly confidential tone. "As a matter of fact, I was offered the directorship of the Galactic space lanes only last week," he said. "Do you know why I refused it?"

  Tom shook his head.

  "Because I'm a spaceman, just like yourselves." He looked at Astro. "Cadet Astro, would you take a job with an outfit and give up space to sit behind a desk eight hours a day?"

  "No, sir!" said Astro emphatically.

  "Well, that's exactly the way I feel. But I commend you on your observations about me, Corbett. I think I would have been a little suspicious myself."

  The three cadets smiled.

  "Thank you, sir," said Tom. "And forget what we just said. If Governor Hardy's okayed you, that's good enough for us."

  "Thanks, Corbett," said Vidac. "I appreciate that."

  "I guess we'd better turn in now," said Roger. "We have a hard day ahead of us. Those applicants come at you like dinosaurs."

  "Right!" said Vidac. "I'll take over Captain Strong's quarters. See you in the morning."

  The three cadets went to their quarters without saying a word. When the hatch was closed, Roger turned and faced his unit mates.

  "Well, it sure looks like we made a mistake about that spaceman!" he said. "I think he's all right!"

  "Yeah," said Astro, "you can't blame a guy for not wanting to take a desk job."

  Tom merely sat in his bunk, starting to pull off one of his soft leather space boots. He held it a moment, thinking, and then looked up at his two unit mates. "You know, I think I'm going to have a talk with the governor."

  "About what?" asked Roger.

  "Vidac," said Tom simply.

  "What could you say that he doesn't already know?" asked Astro.

  "Why—" Tom stopped. After a moment he dropped his boot to the deck, looked up at Roger and Astro, and smiled. "Nothing, I guess."

  "Come on," said Roger, yawning. "Let's turn in. Just the thought of facing those applicants tomorrow makes me tired."

  Astro turned out the light and hopped into bed. Tom lay in his bunk, hands under his head, wondering about Vidac, and then he began to think about the colony of Roald. He lay a long time, thinking about the fine people who were giving up comfortable homes, successful businesses. He thought of Hyram Logan and family; the shopkeeper from Titan with three sets of twin boys; the Martian miner who had spent twenty-five futile years searching for uranium in the asteroid belt. They were all ready to go over fifty billion miles into deep space and begin their lives again. Tom shook his head. He wondered if he had a choice whether he would chance the mystery and danger of deep space.

  With the steady hum of the electronic generator on the power deck droning in his ears the curly-haired cadet soon fell asleep.

  * * * * *

  "What did you say your name was?" asked Roger of the applicant standing before him. He was a man badly in need of a shave and his clothes looked as if he had slept in them. He was the sixty-sixth applicant Roger had seen that morning.

  "Tad Winters," replied the man in a surly tone, "and hurry up with this business. I haven't got all day!"

  Roger looked up sharply. "You'll wait until I've had time to check your application, sir. Or you can leave right now!"

  "Listen, punk," snarled Winters, "I just saw your boss—"

  "My boss?" asked Roger, puzzled.

  "Yeah," said Winters. "Your boss, Vidac! And he said I was to tell you to pass me!"

  Roger stood up and looked the man in the eye. "You've had your space papers suspended twice, Mr. Winters. Once for smuggling, and once for insubordination on a deep-space merchantman. Your application to go to Roald is rejected."

  "We'll see about that!" growled Winters. "Gimme that, you space jerk!" He snatched the application out of Roger's hand and stomped out of the room.

  Roger smiled. It was nothing new to him for the applicants to threaten him and seek higher authority. He buzzed for the next applicant.

  Meanwhile, Tom was interviewing a small man with heavy eyebrows and a thin face. One side of his mouth twitched continually, making the man look as though he were laughing. Tom read over the application and looked up quickly.

  "Mr. Bush," said Tom, "you've stated here that you were once a messenger for the Spaceways Bonded Messenger Service and that you were dismissed. Why was that?"

  Ed Bush's mouth twitched as he played with his hat and stirred uneasily in his chair. "I was framed," he said finally.

  "Framed?" asked Tom.

  "Yeah, framed!" snapped Bush. "I was taking a credit pouch to Venusport from Atom City when it was stolen from me."

  "Could you prove it?" asked Tom.

  "How could I prove it when I don't know what happened to it?" growled Bush. "Listen, Corbett, you can't hold a little thing like that against me. A man is entitled to one mistake—"

  Tom held up his hand. "Mr. Bush, you also had your space papers suspended for six months and were caught during the suspension blasting off with false papers. Was that a mistake?"

  "Well, what do you expect a man to do? Go hungry? I've been a spaceman longer than you've been
alive. I had to have a job. There wasn't anything else I could do." His voice trailed off into a whine.

  "But you did, willfully and with full knowledge of your act, violate the space code by using false papers, didn't you?" pursued Tom.

  "Yeah, but—" whined Bush.

  "I'm sorry," said Tom, standing up. "Your application has been rejected."

  Bush stood up and snatched the application from Tom. His mouth began to twitch furiously. "Why, you little—"

  "That's enough, Bush!" snapped Vidac, who had suddenly entered the room. "Leave your application on the desk and get out!"

  Bush turned and looked at Vidac, nodded, and glared at Tom before stalking from the room. Vidac smiled at Tom's questioning look and walked over. He sat on the edge of Tom's desk and picked up Bush's application.

  "Funny thing about Bush, Tom," Vidac mused.

  "What, sir?" asked Tom.

  "Notice the nervous twitch he has on the side of his face?"

  "Yes, sir," said Tom.

  "I've known Bush a long time. Many years. He used to be the happiest little space joker in the system, singing all the time, playing a concertina. And then he lost that credit pouch. It bothered him real bad."

  "I guess it would, sir," said Tom.

  "And then he got caught blasting off with false papers and of course that made him a marked man. He developed the nervous twitch right after that. He's a good man, Tom. And I think we ought to give him another chance."

  Tom gasped. "But, sir, he's broken the space code!"

  Vidac looked at Tom and smiled. "I know, Tom, and it's a serious thing. But I think he deserves another chance."

  "We've refused people for a lot less than that, sir," said Tom emphatically, "before you came."

  Vidac's face hardened. "I said we were going to give him another chance!"

  Tom met the lieutenant governor's eyes coolly. "Yes, sir." He stamped the application and handed it to Vidac.

  "It's pretty easy to sit in judgment of others, Tom," said Vidac, smiling again. "If there are any more—ah—questionable applicants, I suggest you send them to me. And if I want to give them another chance, you will, of course, follow orders."

  "Very well, sir," replied Tom, tight-lipped. "If you say so."

  Vidac's eyes hardened. "I say so, Corbett!" He turned and walked from the room.

  Tom sat down weakly. As he was about to buzz for the next applicant, the door burst open and Roger came into the room. The blond-haired cadet's lips were pulled tight in a grim line.

  "There's something rocket-blasting screwy around here, Tom!" he exclaimed.

  "What do you mean?" asked Tom.

  "I just rejected a real low-down space crawler—a guy named Tad Winters."

  "Yes?" Tom was alert, anticipating Roger's answer.

  "He went to Vidac and came back later with his application approved."

  Tom slammed his fist on the desk. "That proves it! Governor Hardy has to be told what's going on!" He flipped on the teleceiver near by and asked the central communications operator to connect him with the governor's office. In a moment the face of Christopher Hardy sharpened into focus on the screen.

  "What is it, Corbett?" asked the governor.

  "I'd like to talk to you, sir, if I may. Something's just come up and I'm not sure what to do."

  "Well, whatever it is, I'm sure Governor Vidac will be able to take care of it. Speak to him."

  Tom gulped and glanced at Roger. "But, sir," he stammered, "it's—it's—"

  "It's what, Corbett? Hurry, lad! I haven't got all day."

  "What I have to say is—is—about the lieutenant governor, sir," Tom managed finally.

  "Now listen, son," said Hardy, "I have a lot of confidence in you three boys. You've all done a fine job. But I screened Mr. Vidac myself, and I'm satisfied that he is just the man I need. After Captain Strong was recalled to the Academy, I had to have a man to take over for him. And I am satisfied that Mr. Vidac is about as fine a man as I could get! Now don't bother me again. You've done a fine job, as I said. But don't let it go to your heads!"

  "Yes, sir," said Tom, clamping his teeth together. "Very well, sir!"

  "One more thing," said Hardy. "We've about finished here at Luna City. When you've processed the last of the applicants, prepare the Polaris for a return trip to Space Academy." He paused and smiled. "I think I might be able to convince Commander Walters you need a two weeks' leave!" He smiled again and then his face disappeared from the screen.

  Tom looked up at Roger. "I don't like it, Roger. Maybe I'm wrong, but either the governor is pretty dumb or Vidac is the slickest thing in space!"

  "Could be both," drawled Roger.

  Tom looked at the pile of applications on his desk, and then at the door to Vidac's office.

  "Whatever it is, we've got to tell Captain Strong!"

  CHAPTER 5

  "For the last time, Captain Strong has been sent on a special mission to Pluto!" said the supervisory officer at the Academy. "Now stop bothering me or I'll log all three of you with twenty galley demerits!"

  "Very well, sir," said Tom. "But could you tell us if the mission had anything to do with the Roald project?"

  "Cadet Corbett," replied the officer wearily, "even if I knew I couldn't tell you. It was a special order from Commander Walters' office. Captain Strong blasted off three days ago with a full crew of guardsmen in a rocket cruiser."

  "And he didn't—" began Roger.

  "And he didn't leave any message for you," concluded the officer.

  "Thank you, sir," said Tom. "Come on, fellows, let's go. We've got to blast off for Mars in half an hour and we haven't got our gear packed."

  The officer watched the three cadets leave and then called after them. "If Captain Strong returns before you get back from Mars, Corbett, I'll ask him to leave a message!"

  "Thanks, sir," said Tom.

  The three boys left the Tower building and hopped on a slidewalk for the spaceport. The Academy was buzzing with activity as Solar Guard officers, scientists, and enlisted men attended to the millions of details of the mass flight of the colonists into deep space.

  They met Mike McKenny, the stubby warrant officer, at the air lock of the Solar Guard rocket destroyer that would take them to Mars. After they had climbed into the ship, they waited for a full hour before they could get clearance to blast off. And, in flight, they were forced to maintain constant alert and careful position in the heavy flow of traffic to and from Earth.

  "Never saw the Academy so busy in all my life," commented Mike. "Must be a thousand ships there and in the Atom City fitting docks."

  "Yeah," agreed Roger. "This is going to be some push!"

  From Mars, Titan, Ganymede, Luna City, Venus, the Asteroid Colonies, and as far away as the uranium mines of Pluto, the colonists arrived, to be quartered at Space Academy. Excited, and anxious to begin their new life, they assembled for their antibiotic shots and the last medical check by the Solar Guard doctors. There were crystal miners from Titan, farmers from Venus, Mars, and Earth, prospectors from the New Sahara desert of Mars, engineers from the atmosphere booster stations on Ganymede, and just plain citizens who wanted a new life on the distant satellite of Wolf 359. All had gathered for the great mass flight into space.

  The Solar Guard worked late into the night, examining every ship in the Alliance

  At the same time the giant fleet of ships needed to carry the colonists to Roald was being assembled. Officers of the Solar Guard worked late into the night, examining the construction of every ship in the Alliance for use in the flight to Roald. If a jet liner or merchantman was found to be satisfactory, it was purchased at full price from the owners and flown to refitting docks at Space Academy and Atom City where work was begun converting it to a special use. Every ship was to be cannibalized on Roald, its hull taken apart to provide housing and its power decks converted into electropower plants. Now working with Mike McKenny, the three Space Cadets were part of a large group of transfer crew
s engaged in flying ships to Earth.

  Returning from Mars, where they had picked up a giant jet liner, the three cadets landed on the crowded Academy spaceport and turned hopefully to Mike.

  "You think we can get a twenty-four-hour pass, Mike?" asked Roger.

  "Yeah," growled Astro. "Governor Hardy promised us a two-week leave, but I guess he got swamped under details!"

  Mike scratched his head. "I don't know, boys," he said. "I can't give it to you, but I'll speak to Commander Walters for you. I know it's been a pretty rough grind for all of you."

  "Thanks, Mike," said Tom. "We'd appreciate it."

  Later, when the three boys had signed over the giant ship to the refitting crews, they headed for their dormitory for a refreshing shower.

  As Astro began to strip off his jacket, he suddenly asked, "Do you think Captain Strong has returned from Pluto yet?"

  "I doubt it," answered Roger. "I'm sure there would have been a message for us on the chatter wire if he had." Roger referred to a tape recorder that was standard equipment in each of the dormitory rooms, used expressly for messages.

  "You know something," said Tom. "I think we ought to go directly to Commander Walters about Vidac."

  "Commander Walters!" growled Astro. "Are you off your rocket?"

  "Why shouldn't we?" agreed Roger.

  "I'll tell you why!" said Astro. "Commander Walters probably is so busy you couldn't get near him with a six-inch atomic blaster. And what are we going to say after we get there? Just that Vidac has let some space crawlers into the expedition?"

  "That's enough, isn't it?" asked Roger.

  "We can't let this slide, Astro," said Tom determinedly. "Somebody's got to do something about Vidac, and if the governor won't, it should be brought to Commander Walters' attention."

  "Come on. Let's do it right now," urged Roger. "We'll be sticking our necks out, but since when have we ever let that stop us?"

  Astro shrugged his shoulders and quickly redressed. The three boys left the dormitory building and started hopping from one slidewalk to another, as they made their way to the Tower building. All around them the activity of the Academy seemed to have increased. Everyone seemed to be rushing somewhere. Even the green-clad Earthworm cadets had been pressed into service as messengers. And mixed in with the officials were the colonists wandering around sight-seeing.