Tom Corbett Space Cadet

by Carey Rockwell

  "Not on your life," protested Astro. "You don't think I'd let you go down there alone, do you? You go back to Captain Strong and I'll see what those two are doing down there."

  Tom grinned. "O.K., we'll both go down," he said.

  Opening the trap door all the way, Tom eased himself down into the opening. Astro followed. Immediately below the trap, they found a ladder, fixed to the wall of the shaft, which led directly down to a point about thirty feet below the surface of Titan. At the bottom the two cadets paused. A long tunnel stretched before them.

  "Listen to that!" exclaimed Astro.

  Tom ripped off the mask and listened. He heard a strange noise which sounded more like the roar of escaping gas than a motor.

  "What is it?" asked Tom.

  "That's what I'd like to know!"

  "And that light," continued Tom, pointing down the length of the tunnel. "Do you suppose it's Miles and Brett?"

  "It isn't moving," commented Astro.

  "Well, since we're here we might as well find out as much as we can," Tom decided. "Let's go."

  The two cadets flattened themselves against the side of the shaft and inched forward. The hissing noise was slowly building up to a roar now, and as they made their way along the shaft, they passed other smaller tunnels that branched off to the left and right. There was evidence of recent work. Tools were scattered along the tunnel floors, as if the workers had dropped them in sudden flight.

  The light ahead of them grew brighter, and as they rounded a corner, they saw a bare, unshaded lamp suspended from the roof of the tunnel.

  Tom suddenly stopped and jerked Astro back. "Look!" he exclaimed, pointing to the floor, not two paces away. A thin wire, hardly noticeable, was stretched across the floor at ankle height.

  "That bright light is to attract your attention while you trip over that thing and probably blow yourself to bits," he said grimly, pointing to the wall where the wire was connected to a small charge of explosives. "Nothing to bring the roof down," he continued, "but enough to blast whoever tripped over this wire."

  Stepping over the wire carefully, they started down the shaft again, but Tom paused thoughtfully.

  "What's the matter?" asked Astro.

  "That booby trap," said Tom. "We'd better not take any chances of tripping over it on the way back. We might be in a hurry."

  "I know what you mean," grunted the big Venusian. He knelt down beside the menacing box of explosives and quickly disconnected the trip wire, throwing the box to one side.

  Straightening up, Astro announced, "It's harmless now."

  Cautiously the two cadets continued down the tunnel, the roaring sound growing louder and louder. After twenty minutes, Astro paused, his homely features wrinkled in a frown of worry.

  "Think maybe Miles and Brett went off into one of the other side tunnels?" he asked.

  Tom thought a moment. "No, I don't, Astro. We haven't hit another side tunnel since we passed that booby trap back there. What would be the use of setting that thing up if they went in another direction?"

  "There must be another way out of here, then," Astro remarked.

  "Why?"

  "That part of the tunnel back there by the bomb was loose dirt. If the bomb had exploded, the whole tunnel would have been blocked off and how could they get out?"

  Tom didn't answer. He was thinking about what he was going to do if there should be another booby trap in the tunnel. It was so dark now that they could hardly see more than a few feet ahead. The bright light was merely a pinpoint in the distance behind them.

  And then Tom became aware that the roar that had been with them constantly since they had entered the shaft had now lessened in volume. But they had not passed a single branch-off tunnel where the sound could have originated. Tom made up his mind quickly.

  "Come on, Astro," he said. "We're going back."

  "Why?"

  "I haven't time to explain now, but you walk close to one side of the shaft and I'll take the other. Feel along with your hands for anything like a door or an opening. I think we've passed them."

  Without another word, Astro turned around and headed back, feeling along the tunnel wall.

  It did not take the two cadets long to discover what they were looking for. A heavy wooden door was set flush with the side of the tunnel. And when Tom pressed his ear to it, he could hear the roaring sound throbbing heavily inside.

  "See if you can open it, Astro," said Tom. "But take it easy."

  Astro felt along the side of the door until he found a wooden latch and he lifted it gently. The door swung back, as if pushed, as a powerful draft caught it from the other side. The roar was now deafening.

  Tom stepped inside cautiously, followed by Astro. They found themselves on a small balcony overlooking a huge subterranean room. In the room they saw Quent Miles and Charles Brett bending over a table on which were several delicate electronic instruments. Tom and Astro recognized them immediately as testing machinery for radioactivity, much more advanced and sensitive than the ordinary Geiger counter. Around the two men was ample evidence of Astro's original assumption that they were digging into a hot vein of uranium pitchblende. To one side of the room, lead sheets lined a rough boxlike structure that Astro and Tom guessed was covering for the radioactive vein. Against the wall lay the lead-lined suits used by the miners. Further to one side, Tom saw a huge open pipe. He nudged Astro.

  "Look, over there," Tom whispered. "That's where the oxygen is coming from!"

  Below them, Miles suddenly walked to the pipe and pulled a large lever on its side. The roaring sound stopped immediately and the boys felt the air pressure in the room lessen slightly.

  "That blasted noise is driving me crazy," explained Miles, walking back to the table, his voice echoing in the rock-walled cavern.

  Brett, leaning over the table, was stabbing around futilely in one of the sets of tubes in a complicated testing device. "Wish we had that squirt Manning here," he mumbled. "He could fix these things up in no time at all."

  "I could always go back to the hide-out and get him," suggested Miles.

  On the balcony Tom gripped Astro's arm tightly.

  "Astro! Did you hear that?" he exclaimed.

  The big cadet nodded and started to rise from their place of concealment. Tom pulled him down. "Wait," he whispered sharply. "No use barging in on them yet. Maybe we can find out where Roger is first."

  Astro reluctantly crouched down again, his hamlike hands balled into fists.

  The two cadets watched Quent Miles and Brett work on the instruments awhile longer. Finally Miles slammed down a pair of wire cutters on the table and growled at Brett. "No use messing with this thing any longer. I don't know what makes it tick, so I can't find the trouble. We need new equipment."

  "It'll take at least two weeks to get new equipment the way things are going here at Titan," replied Brett.

  "Well, there's no use hanging around here if we can't dig any more of the stuff out, and I ain't going behind that lead shield unless I got a machine that tells me it's safe."

  "I've been thinking about Manning," said Brett.

  "What about him?"

  "Suppose we move the stuff we've already mined to the hide-out, and take this equipment along too. He can repair it out there. We can turn off the oxygen that we're sucking off from the Solar Guard pumps, and by the time we get back here, the old satellite will be back to normal. Then, with the equipment repaired and Olympia back to normal, we can really begin operations."

  Quent nodded quickly. "Good idea. Come on. Let's get this stuff aboard the ship."

  On the balcony Tom and Astro looked at each other.

  "They're responsible for what's happened here on Titan!" whispered Tom. "They have been sucking off oxygen from the main pumps supporting the force field."

  "Come on, Tom," growled Astro. "My fist is just itching to make contact with a couple of no-good chins."

  "Not so fast! We still don't know where they've got Roger."

&n
bsp; "You want to keep on following them?" asked Astro.

  "At least to their ship," Tom replied. "Then we can notify Captain Strong and he can track them in the Polaris. If we barge in on them now, we'll just get the satisfaction of knocking their heads together with no guarantee of any information." The young cadet turned to the door. "We'll sneak up the tunnel a way and then follow them out."

  "Hurry!" said Astro. "Here they come." Quent, carrying one of the instruments, had started up the steps to the balcony.

  Tom grabbed the latch and pushed up but the door would not open. "Give me a hand, Astro, quick!" he called.

  Astro grabbed the latch and heaved his bulk against the door. Suddenly he stepped back dumfounded, holding the latch in his hand. It had snapped off.

  Just at that moment Brett looked up and saw them. He shouted a warning to Miles, who dropped the instrument he was carrying and pulled out his ray gun.

  "Just stand where you are!" he snarled, leveling the gun at them.

  Tom and Astro stood quietly, hands in the air.

  "How in blazes did they get here?" Brett cried.

  "They must have followed me," said Miles. "They certainly couldn't have known about this place."

  "But how did they get past the trap?" Brett persisted, still amazed and shaken by the unexpected appearance of the cadets.

  Astro snorted his contempt. "You must think we're a couple of prize space jerks," he growled. "You can't even kill a mouse with that thing now."

  "Let's cut the talk," said Miles. "What do we do with them?"

  "Freeze them!" snapped Brett. "No telling how long they've been here and how much they know."

  "We know enough to put you on a prison asteroid," challenged Tom.

  "Freeze 'em, it is," said Quent. "We'll get the ship loaded and decide what to do with them later."

  He pressed the trigger on his ray gun. There was a harsh crackling sound and Tom and Astro stiffened into immobility, every nerve and muscle deadened. With the exception of their hearts, and sense of seeing and hearing, they might have been dead men.

  Laughing to themselves, Quent Miles and Charles Brett picked up their instruments, walked past them, and disappeared through the door.

  CHAPTER 14

  Charles Brett swaggered into the control room of the electronics building. Commander Walters, Captain Strong, and Kit Barnard looked up from their study of the reports the chief engineer had handed them.

  "What are you doing here, Brett?" demanded Walters. "I thought you had blasted out of here long ago."

  "I'm leaving as soon as we sign the contracts for hauling the crystal, Commander," said Brett.

  "Contracts!" exploded Strong. "Why, man, do you realize that this satellite is about to die? If we don't find out what's wrong with the screens, there won't be any crystal mined here for the next ten years."

  Brett shook his head and smiled. "That's all right with me too," he said. "The contracts call for either party to satisfy the other should either party fail to fulfill the contractual agreements. In other words, Strong, I get paid for making the trip out to Titan, whether you have crystal to haul or not."

  "Why, you dirty—" snarled Strong.

  "Just a moment, Steve," Walters interrupted sharply. "Brett's right. We had no way of knowing that this situation would arise, or grow worse than it was in the beginning. Brett went to a great deal of expense to enter the race and win it. If he insists that the Solar Guard abide by the contract, there's nothing we can do but pay."

  "It won't be too bad, Commander Walters," said Brett. "I have my ship loaded with crystal now, and if you'll just sign the contracts, I can deliver one cargo of crystal to Atom City before Titan is abandoned."

  "Wait a minute," cried Strong. "Who gave you the right to load crystal before signing the contract?"

  "I assumed the right, Captain Strong," replied Brett smoothly. "My ship won the race, didn't it? Why shouldn't I start work right away?"

  "Well, that's beside the point now, anyway," Walters said. "We may need your ship to take miners and their families to Ganymede or Mars, Brett. Never mind the crystal. One load won't mean very much, anyway."

  "No, thank you," growled Brett. "I don't haul any miners in my ship. The contracts call for crystal and that's all."

  "I'm ordering you to take those people, Brett," said Walters coldly. "This is an emergency."

  "Order all you want," snapped Brett. "Look at your space code book, section four, paragraph six. My rights are fully protected from high-handed orders issued by men like you who think they're bigger than the rest of the people."

  Walters flushed angrily. "Get out!" he roared.

  "Not till you sign that contract," Brett persisted. "And if I don't leave with a signed contract in my pocket, I'll have you up before the Solar Alliance Council on charges of fraud. You haven't got a leg to stand on and you know it. Now sign that contract."

  Abruptly, Walters turned to an enlisted spaceman and instructed him to get his brief case from the Polaris, then deliberately turning his back on Brett, continued his study of the report. Strong and Kit Barnard watched Brett with narrowed eyes as the arrogant company owner crossed to the other side of the room and sat down.

  "You know something, Steve," said Kit quietly. "Back at the Academy, I failed to register a protest about someone dumping impure reactant into my feeders."

  "What about it?" asked Strong.

  "I'd like to register that protest now."

  "Now?" Steve looked at him, a frown on his face. "Why now?"

  "For one thing, Brett couldn't blast off until there was an investigation."

  "You might have something there, Kit," replied Strong with a smile. "And since Brett won the race under such—er—mysterious circumstances, I'd suggest an investigation of the black ship as well, eh?"

  Kit grinned. "Shall I make that a formal request?"

  "Right now, if you like."

  Kit turned to face Commander Walters. "Commander," he announced, "I would like to register a formal protest with regard to the race."

  Walters glanced up. "Race?" he growled. "What the devil are you talking about, Kit?"

  "Captain Barnard seems to think that Mr. Brett's ship might have used equipment that was not standard, sir," Strong explained. "In addition, his own ship was sabotaged during the time trials."

  Walters looked at Strong and then at Kit Barnard, unable to understand. "What's happened to you two? Bringing up a thing like that at this time. Have you lost your senses?"

  "No, sir," replied Kit. "But I believe that if a formal investigation was started, the Solar Guard would be within its legal rights to delay signing the contracts until such investigation was completed."

  Walters grinned broadly. "Of course! Of course!"

  Brett jumped up and stormed across the room. "You can't get away with this, Walters!" he shouted. "I won this race fairly and squarely. You have to sign that contract."

  "Mr. Brett," said Walters coldly, "under the circumstances, I don't have to do a space-blasted thing." He turned to Kit. "Is this a formal request for an investigation, Kit?" He was smiling.

  "It is, sir."

  "Very well," said Walters, turning to Brett. "Mr. Brett, in the presence of two witnesses, I refuse to sign the contracts as a result of serious charges brought against you by one of the participating entrants. You will be notified of the time and place of the hearing on these charges."

  Brett's face turned livid. "You can't do this to me!"

  Walters turned to one of the enlisted guardsmen. "Escort Mr. Brett from the room," he ordered.

  A tall, husky spaceman unlimbered his paralo-ray rifle and nudged Brett from the room. "I'll get even with you, Walters, if it's the last thing I do," he screamed.

  "You make another threat like that to a Solar Guard officer," growled the enlisted spaceman, "and it'll be the last thing you do."

  As the door closed, Walters, Strong, and Kit laughed out loud. A few seconds later, as the three men returned to their study of
the report, there was a distant rumble, followed quickly by the shock wave of a tremendous explosion. Walters, Strong, and Kit and everyone in the room were thrown to the floor violently.

  "By the craters of Luna," yelled Strong, "what was that?"

  "One of the smaller screens has given way, sir!" yelled the chief electronic engineer after a quick glance at the giant control board. "Number seven."

  Walters struggled to his feet. "Where is it?" he demanded.

  Strong and Kit got to their feet and crowded around the commander as the engineer pointed out the section on the huge map hanging on the wall.

  "Here it is, sir," he said. "Sector twelve."

  "Has that area been evacuated yet?" asked Strong.

  "I don't know, sir," replied the engineer. "Captain Howard was in charge of all evacuation operations."

  Walters spun around. "Get Howard, Steve. Find out if that part of the city has been cleared," he ordered and then turned to Kit. "You, Kit, take the Space Marines and round up every spare oxygen mask you can find and get it over to that section right away. I'll meet you here"—he placed his finger on the map—"with every jet car I can find. No telling how many people are still there and we have to get them out."

  Almost immediately the wailing of emergency sirens could be heard spreading the alarm over the city. At the spaceport, where the citizens were waiting to be taken off the satellite, small groups began to charge toward the loading ships in a frenzy of fear. Since Titan had been colonized, there had never been a single occasion where the sirens had warned of the failure of the screens. There had been many tests, especially for the school-age children and the miners working far below the surface of the satellite, but this was the first time the sirens howled a real warning of danger and death.

  Strong raced back to the control tower of the spaceport in a jet car and burst into the room where the captain was still asleep on the couch. Strong shook him violently.

  "Wake up, Joe!" he cried. "Come on. Wake up."

  "Uh—ahhh? What's the—?" Howard sat up and blinked his eyes. "Steve, what's going on?"