Tom Corbett Space Cadet

by Carey Rockwell

  "I'll give you the word," replied Tom. "Just be ready." The cadet turned away quickly. "Watch it," he hissed. "He's suspicious."

  The two boys plodded along across the field as Miles moved up closer. He stared at them for a long moment and then continued to walk along directly behind them.

  When they reached the ship, Miles allowed them to rest and catch their breath before making the long climb up the ladder to the air-lock portal. Brett suddenly appeared in the open portal above them.

  "Hey, Miles," he called, "is that the last of it?"

  "Yes," Miles called back. "You get in touch with our pal?"

  "Uh-huh. He's going to meet us out in space."

  "In space?" Miles stared up at Brett with a strange gleam in his eye. "Why not the hide-out?"

  "I don't know," Brett replied from above. "Let's not waste time talking now. Get those other two cases up here. I want to blast off."

  Miles turned to the two cadets and waved his paralo-ray gun menacingly. "All right, you two. Get going!"

  "Give us a few more minutes, Miles," said Tom. "We're so tired we can hardly move."

  "Get up, I said," snarled the black-suited spaceman.

  "I can't," whined Tom. "You'll have to give me a hand."

  Miles pointed his gun straight at the young cadet. "All right. That means the big fella makes two trips and I freeze you right now."

  "No, no!" cried Tom, jumping to his feet. "I can make it. Please don't freeze me again." Astro turned away to hide his smile.

  Sneering his disgust at Tom's apparent fear, Miles prodded the cadets up the ladder. Tom went first, the heavy box digging into his shoulder. Astro followed, cursing the fog that prevented him from seeing where Miles stood below him so he could drop the heavy box on him.

  Above them, Charles Brett watched them emerge out of the ammonia mist, ray gun held tightly in his hand. Tom climbed into the air lock safely and dropped the box on the edge of the platform, slumping to the deck beside it. Astro followed seconds later, and then Miles.

  "Don't stop now," barked Miles. "Put those boxes below with the rest of them."

  Tom got up slowly, leaning heavily on the outer edge of the precariously placed box. The box suddenly tilted and then slipped out of the air lock to disappear in the mist.

  "Why, you clumsy—" Brett roared, raising his gun menacingly.

  Astro stepped in front of Tom. "I'll get it," he cried. "Don't shoot!"

  "Go on then," snarled Brett. "Go down with him, Miles. I'll stay here with Corbett."

  "You go down with him," sneered Miles. "I've been up and down that ladder fifty times while you sat up here doing nothing."

  "Is that so?" cried Brett angrily, turning to face the black-clad spaceman. This gave Tom the opportunity he was waiting for. He pulled the small charge of explosives from his tunic and held it in front of him.

  "All right, you two!" he shouted. "Drop those paralo-ray guns. This is the booby trap you planted in the tunnel. You fire those ray guns and we all go up together."

  Brett jumped back. Miles took a half step forward and stopped. "You haven't got the nerve," he sneered.

  "Shoot and you'll find out," said Tom. "Go ahead! Shoot, if you've got the guts. Get down the ladder, Astro," he said. "They won't fire as long as I've got this in my hand."

  Brett had begun to shake with fear but Miles brought his ray gun up slowly. He aimed it at Astro who was starting down the ladder, his head and shoulders still showing in the open air-lock portal. Tom saw what Miles was going to do. "Jump, Astro!" he shouted.

  Astro jumped at the exact instant Miles fired. "Rush him," cried Miles. Brett made a headlong dash for Tom, but the cadet side-stepped at the last moment and Brett fell headlong out of the ship, wailing in sudden terror as he fell to the ground.

  Miles turned to Tom. He ripped off his mask and with his free hand closed the air-lock portal.

  "You fooled Brett, but you didn't fool me, Corbett." He laughed. "It takes a direct electric charge to set that stuff off. You just helped me get rid of a very obnoxious partner." He leveled his paralo-ray gun.

  "I hate to do this," he said, "but it's you or me."

  He fired. Tom was again frozen into that immobile state more dead than alive. Miles laughed and hurried to the control deck.

  * * * * *

  Astro got up on his knees slowly. Though the fall had been a hard one, he had rolled quickly with the first impact, thus preventing any injuries. He shook his head, regained his sense of direction, and then rose to his feet, starting back to the ship in hope of helping Tom. He tripped over something and fell to the ground. Groping around in the thickening ammonia gas he felt the still form of a body. For a moment, thinking it was Tom, his heart nearly stopped, and then he breathed a silent prayer of thankfulness when he recognized Charley Brett. He felt the man's heart. There was a faint beat.

  Astro opened the valve on Brett's oxygen mask wide and waited until the man was breathing normally. Then he began feeling his way back to the ladder. Suddenly he heard a sound that made his blood run cold. It was the unmistakable whine of the cooling pumps building for blast-off. And he was directly underneath the exhaust tubes.

  He scrambled away, heading back to the spot where Brett lay. The whining of the pumps built to an agonizing scream. There were scant seconds left to save himself. He could not wait to find Brett. He began running wildly away from the ship, stumbling, failing, rising to his feet again to plunge on, away from the deadly white-hot exhaust blast of the Space Knight.

  There was a terrific explosion, and then Astro was lifted off his feet and hurled through the mist, head over heels. He screamed and then blacked out.

  * * * * *

  "We found him about a thousand yards away from the warehouse, Commander," said the guardsman. "He looks pretty beat and his clothes are burned a little. I think he must have been caught in the blast of that ship we heard take off."

  Walters looked down at Astro's big frame, sprawled on the ground, and then at the medical corpsman who was giving him a quick examination. The corpsman straightened up and turned to Walters and Captain Strong. "He'll be all right as soon as he wakes up."

  "Shock?" asked Strong.

  "Yes. And complete fatigue. Look at his hands and knees. He's been doing some pretty rough work." The corpsman indicated the big cadet's hands, skinned and swollen from his labor in the mines.

  "Wake him up!" growled Walters.

  "Wake him up!" exclaimed the corpsman. "Why, sir, I couldn't allow—"

  "Wake him up. And that's an order!" insisted Walters.

  "Very well, sir. But this will have to go into my report to the senior medical officer."

  "And I'll commend you for insisting on proper care for your patients," Walters stated. "But in the meantime we've got to find out what happened. And Cadet Astro is the only one who can tell us."

  The corpsman turned to his emergency kit. He took out a large hypodermic needle, filled with a clear fluid, and injected it into the big cadet's arm.

  In less than a minute Astro was sitting up and telling Walters everything that had happened. When he told of the pipe that was sucking off the oxygen from the main pumps, Walters dispatched an emergency crew to the mine immediately to plug the leak. Then, when Astro revealed the secret of the mine, the presence of the uranium pitchblende, Walters shook his head slowly.

  "Amazing!" he exclaimed. "Greed can ruin a man. He could have declared such a discovery and still had more money than he could have spent in a lifetime."

  Walters spun around. "Steve, I want the Polaris ready to blast off within an hour. We're going after one of the dirtiest space rats that ever hit the deep!"

  CHAPTER 18

  Roger peered around the edge of the baffling shields. The power deck was empty. He edged out and stood upright, eyes moving constantly for signs of Miles.

  No longer needing the cumbersome space suit, he stripped it off and walked across the deck to the ladder. He stopped to listen again but there was only t
he sound of the rockets under emergency space drive. A quick glance at the control panel told him that the ship was hurtling through space at a fantastic speed. Satisfied that Miles was nowhere near, Roger gripped the rocketman's wrench tightly and began climbing slowly and cautiously.

  When he reached the next deck, he raised his head through the hatch slowly. Then, in one quick movement, he pulled himself up on the deck and ran for cover behind a small locker to his right. Above him, through the open network of frames and girders, he could see the control deck, but Miles was nowhere in sight.

  Something on the opposite side of the ship caught his eye. Miles' space suit hung on its rack, the heavy fish-bowllike space helmet beside it in its open locker. Roger's heart skipped a beat as he noticed the holster for a paralo-ray gun nearby. But the large flap was closed and he could not see if it held a gun.

  Slowly and cautiously he began climbing

  The young cadet moved away from the protection of the locker and started toward the space suit. He moved slowly, watching the upper deck where he figured Miles would be at the control board, operating the ship.

  Suddenly Miles appeared above him, walking across the open control deck with a clip board in his hand, making a standard check of the many instruments. Before Roger could find a hiding place, Miles saw the cadet. He drew his paralo-ray gun quickly, firing with the speed of a practiced hand. Roger dove toward the space suit and wrenched open the holster but found it empty. Miles was behind him now, running down the ladder.

  Roger spun around, darted to the ladder leading to the power deck, and just missed being hit by Miles' second shot. He jumped the ten feet to the power deck and darted behind the huge bank of atomic motors.

  Miles came down the ladder slowly, gun leveled, eyes searching the deck. He stopped with his back to the rocket motors and called, "All right, Manning, come on out. If you come out without any trouble, I won't freeze you. I'll just tie you up again."

  Roger was silent, gripping the wrench tightly and praying for a chance to strike. Miles still remained in one position, protected by the motor housing.

  "I'm going to count five, Manning!" he shouted. "Then I'll hunt you down and freeze you solid."

  Gripping the wrench tightly and raising it above his head, Roger eased out from his hiding place and slipped across the floor lightly. He was within four feet of Miles when the black-suited spaceman spun around and stepped back quickly. "Sucker," he snarled, and fired.

  Roger stood motionless, his arm still raised, the wrench falling to the deck. Miles stuck his face close to Roger's head and said, "I don't know how you got here, but it doesn't make any difference now. In a little while you and your pal, Corbett, are going for a swim out in space."

  Holding Roger by the arm, he tipped the boy over and lowered him to the deck. Roger's arm stuck up like the branch of a tree. Miles stood over him, flipped on the neutralizer charge of the gun, and fired again, releasing Roger from the paralyzing effect of the ray.

  The young cadet began to shake violently and through his chattering teeth he muttered a space oath. Miles only grinned.

  "Just wanted you to make yourself comfortable, Manning," he said. He flipped the gun to direct charge again and pointed it at the boy. Seeing it was useless to try and jump the burly spaceman, Roger relaxed and stretched out on the deck. Miles fired again calmly, and after testing the effect of the ray with his toe, he turned to the ladder.

  As the spaceman climbed back to the control deck, Roger, though in a paralyzed state, could hear the communicator loud-speaker paging Miles.

  * * * * *

  "Come in, Quent! This is Ross! Come in!"

  Tom Corbett sat bound and gagged in the copilot's chair of the black ship, listening to Miles call again and again over the audioceiver. The fact that Miles was identifying himself as Ross puzzled the young cadet and he wondered if it was an alias. Tom was even more puzzled when Miles addressed the person he was calling as Quent.

  "This is Ross! Acknowledge, Quent! Come in!"

  Static spluttered over the loud-speaker and then a clear, harsh voice that was a perfect imitation, answered, "I read you, Ross," it said. "Where are you?"

  Tom watched as Miles made a hasty check on the astrogation chart. "Space quadrant four," he replied. "Chart C for Charley! Where are you?"

  "Same space quadrant, but on chart B for Baker," came the reply. "I think we can make visual contact on radar in above five minutes. Make the usual radar signal for identification. O.K.?"

  "Good!" the Space Knight pilot replied. "What course are you on?"

  There was a pause and then the voice answered, "South southwest. Speed, emergency maximum."

  "Very well. I will adjust course to meet you. But what's the hurry?" asked Tom's captor.

  "Better get out of space as soon as possible."

  "Yeah, I guess you're right."

  Tom listened intently. He closed his eyes and tried to visualize the charts and space quadrants he had heard mentioned. He knew the quadrants by heart, and knew that he was close to the asteroid belt. But each quadrant had at least a dozen or more charts, each one taking in a huge area of space.

  "Is Brett with you?" asked the voice over the audioceiver.

  "No. I'll tell you about it when we get together. All the rockets in space broke loose up there on Titan for a while."

  "What do you mean? Hey! I think I just picked you up on my radar!" said the voice over the loud-speaker. "Give me the identification signal."

  Tom watched Miles go to the radarscope and make a minute adjustment. The voice came over the loud-speaker again. "That's you, all right. Cut back to minimum speed and I'll maneuver to your space lock."

  "Very well," replied the spaceman on the Space Knight.

  He cut the rockets and in a matter of minutes the ship was bumped heavily as contact was made. The voice over the communicator announced the two space vessels had been coupled. "Open your air lock and come aboard."

  "You come aboard my ship," said Miles. "We've got the stuff here."

  "O.K. But I have to go below and wake up that jerk, Manning."

  "Wake him up?"

  "Yeah. I got him frozen."

  "All right, make it snappy."

  Miles turned to look at Tom, a sneer on his face. "I'm giving you a break, Corbett," he said. "You're going to swim with your cadet buddy. You'll have company!"

  Gagged, Tom could only glare his hatred at the black-suited spaceman. In a moment he heard the air lock open below and then footsteps clattered up the ladder to the control deck.

  The hatch opened and Roger stumbled inside. He saw Tom immediately and yelled, "Tom! What are—" Suddenly he stopped. He looked at the man standing beside Tom and gasped in astonishment.

  Tom watched the hatch as Roger's captor stepped inside. What he saw made him twist around in his chair and stare at the man beside him, utterly bewildered.

  "Twins!" cried Roger. "Identical twins."

  The man stepped through the hatch and walked over to his brother. They shook hands and slapped each other on the back.

  "What happened to Charley, Ross?" asked Quent Miles.

  "Just a minute, Quent," replied his brother. He turned and grinned at Tom and Roger. "Surprised, huh? Don't let it bother you. We've been driving people crazy ever since we were born. Does this tell you how we won the race?"

  "T-t-twin pilots," stuttered Tom in amazement. "And twin ships?"

  "Exactly." Ross laughed. "Pretty smart, eh?"

  "Never mind them now," snarled Quent. "I've been sitting up there on that asteroid rock talking to myself. What happened to Charley?"

  "Take it easy, will you, Quent?" said Ross. "I want to have some fun." He turned to Manning. "Untie Corbett and get on the other side of the deck. Have yourselves a nice long talk before you take your last walk."

  Roger slowly bent over to untie Tom, muttering a space oath under his breath. The two brothers retired to the opposite side of the control deck and sat down. Ross kept his paralo-ray pist
ol in his hand and never once took his eyes off the two cadets.

  "Well, what happened?" demanded Quent. "What are you doing here with Corbett and where in the blazes is Charley?"

  "Charley is back on Titan, and probably dead," replied Ross easily. "He wouldn't pay any attention to us when we suggested plugging up the old tunnels when we started mining that uranium, so the oxygen which we were sucking off from the main screen supply took too much. The screens started to go. Practically the whole city is flooded with ammonia gas and it's being abandoned."

  Roger and Tom stood quietly, listening, and when Roger heard the news he turned to Tom with a questioning look on his face. Tom merely nodded grimly.

  "But what are you doing here with this load of pitchblende?" Quent persisted.

  "Everything would have been all right, even with the screens letting go," explained Ross, "if it hadn't been for Corbett and that big jerk Astro. They followed me out to the warehouse and down into the mine. Good thing we caught them, or we'd be on our way to a prison asteroid right now."

  Quent glared over at Tom. "And Charley spilled the beans about the whole thing, eh?"

  "Not exactly, but the Solar Guard knows enough to be suspicious," replied Ross. "We had some trouble with the radiation-detection gear and wanted to haul it out to the hide-out for Manning to check. We decided to bring out as much of the stuff as we had mined, and when we caught Corbett and Astro snooping around, we made them load the ship. Corbett, here, got smart and Astro escaped. In the fight, Charley fell out of the ship. I don't know if he got away or not."

  "Do we have a whole shipload of the stuff?" asked Quent.

  Ross grinned. "About two million credits' worth."

  Quent rubbed his hands together. "We're in clover." He laughed and slapped his brother on the back. "Well, I suppose the Solar Guard is looking for us by now?"

  Ross grinned. "Right. So we pull the old trick, eh? We have two very likely prospects right there." He pointed to Roger and Tom.