The crowd sprang to its feet again and roared his name.
“That was terrific!” said Astro, slapping Tom on the back as they lined up again. “It looked as though you hardly kicked that ball at all.”
“Yeah,” muttered Roger, “you really made yourself the grandstand’s delight!”
“What’s that supposed to mean, Manning?” asked Astro.
“Superman Corbett probably burned himself out! Let’s see him keep up that speed for the next ten minutes!”
The whistle blew for the next goal, and again the three boys moved forward to meet the onrushing Capella unit.
Richards blocked Astro with a twist of his body, and without stopping his forward motion, kicked the ball squarely toward the goal. It stopped ten feet short, took a dizzying spin and rolled away from the goal line. In a flash, the six boys were around the ball, blocking, shoving, and yelling instructions to each other while at the same time kicking at the unsteady ball. With each grazing kick, the ball went into even more maddening spins and gyrations.
At last Richards caught it with the side of his foot, flipped it to McAvoy who dropped back, and with twenty feet between him and the nearest Polaris member, calmly booted it over the goal. The whistle blew ending the first period, and the Capella unit led two to one.
During the next three periods, the Capella unit worked like a well-oiled machine. Richards passed to Davison or McAvoy, and when they were too well guarded, played brilliantly alone. The Polaris unit, on the other hand, appeared to be hopelessly outclassed. Tom and Astro fought like demons but Roger’s lack of interest gave the Capella unit the edge in play. At the end of the fourth period, the Capella team led by three points, seven to four.
While the boys rested before the fifth and final period, Captain Strong, having watched the play with keen interest, realized that Roger was not playing up to his fullest capabilities. Suddenly he summoned a near-by Earthworm cadet, scribbled a message on a slip of paper and instructed the cadet to take it directly to Roger.
“Orders from the coach on the side lines?” asked Wolcheck as he noticed Strong’s action.
“You might call it that, Charlie,” answered Steve blandly.
On the field, the cadet messenger handed Roger the slip of paper, not mentioning that it was from Strong, and hurried back to the stands.
“Getting fan mail already?” asked Astro.
Roger ignored the comment and opened the slip of paper to read:
“…It might interest you to know that the winning team of the mercuryball finals is to be awarded a first prize of three days’ liberty in Atom City.…” There was no signature.
Roger stared up into the stands and searched vainly for some indication of the person who might have sent him the note. The crowd hushed as McKenny stepped forward for the starting of the last period.
“What was in the note, Roger?” asked Tom.
“The winning combination,” smiled Roger lazily. “Get set for the fastest game of mercuryball you’ve ever played, Corbett! We’ve got to pull this mess out of the fire!”
Bewildered, Tom looked at Astro who merely shrugged his shoulders and took his place ready for the whistle. Roger tucked the note into his shorts and stepped up to the line.
“Listen, Corbett,” said Roger, “every time Richards gets the ball, he kicks it to his left, and then McAvoy feints as if to get it, leaving Davison in the open. When you go to block Davison, you leave Richards in the clear. He just keeps the ball. He’s scored three times that way!”
“Yeah,” said Tom, “I noticed that, but there was nothing I could do about it, the way you’ve been playing.”
“Kinda late in the game for any new ideas, Manning,” growled Astro. “Just get the ball and pass it to me.”
“That’s my whole idea! Play back, Astro. Move like you’re very tired, see? Then they’ll forget about you and play three on two. You just be ready to kick and kick hard!”
“What’s happened to you, Roger?” asked Tom. “What was in that note?”
Before Roger could answer, the whistle and the roar from the crowd signaled the beginning of the last period. The cadets raced down the field, Roger swerving to the left and making a feint at blocking Richards. He missed intentionally and allowed Richards to get the ball, who immediately passed to the left. McAvoy raced in on the ball, Tom made a move as if to block him, reversed, and startled the onrushing Richards with a perfect block. The ball was in the clear. Roger gave it a half kick and the ball landed two feet in front of Astro. The big cadet caught it perfectly on the first bounce and kicked it on a line across the goal, seventy yards away.
Up in the stands, Steve Strong smiled as he watched the score change on the board: “Capella seven—Polaris five!”
In rapid succession, the Polaris unit succeeded in intercepting the play of the Capella unit and rolling up two goals to an even score. Now, there were only fifty-five seconds left to play.
The cadets in the stands roared their approval of the gallant effort made by the three members of the Polaris crew. It had been a long time since mercuryball had been played with such deadly accuracy at Space Academy and everyone who attended the game was to remember for years to come the last play of the game.
McKenny blew the whistle again and the boys charged forward, but by now, aware of the sudden flash of unity on the part of the opposing team, the Capella unit fought desperately to salvage at least a tie.
Tom managed to block a kick by Richards, and the ball took a dizzy hop to the left, landing in front of Astro. He was in the clear. The stands were in an uproar as the cadets saw that the game was nearly over. Astro paused a split second, judged the ball and stepped forward to kick. But the ball spun away, just as Astro swung his leg. And at that instant, McAvoy came charging in from the left, only to be blocked by Roger. But the force of McAvoy’s charge knocked Roger back into Astro. Instead of kicking the ball, Astro caught Roger on the side of the head. Roger fell to the ground and lay still. He was knocked cold. Astro lost his balance, twisted on one leg unsteadily, and then fell to the ground. When he tried to get up, he couldn’t walk. He had twisted his ankle.
The Capella unit members stood still, confused and momentarily unable to take advantage of their opportunity. Without a moment’s hesitation, Tom swept in and kicked the ball before his opponents realized what had happened. The ball drifted up in a high arc and landed with several bounces, stopping five feet from the goal.
Suddenly Richards, McAvoy and Davison came alive and charged after Tom, who was running for the ball as fast as his weary legs would carry him. He saw Richards pull up alongside of him, then pass him. Then Davison and McAvoy closed in on either side to block and give Richards a clear shot back down the field and a certain score.
Richards reached the ball, stopped and carefully lined up his kick, certain that his teammates could block out Tom. But the young cadet, in a last desperate spurt, outraced both McAvoy and Davison. Then, as Richards cocked his foot to kick, Tom jumped. With a mighty leaping dive, he sent his body hurtling headlong toward Richards just as he kicked. Tom’s body crashed into the ball and Richards. The two boys went down in a heap but the ball caromed off his chest and rolled over the goal line.
The whistle blew ending the game.
In an instant, two thousand officers, cadets and enlisted men went wild as the ball rolled across the goal line.
The Polaris crew had won eight goals to seven!
From every corner of the field, the crowd cheered the cadets who had finished the game, had won it in the final seconds with two of them sprawled on the field unconscious and a third unable to stand on his feet.
Up in the stands, Captain Strong turned to Commander Walters. He found it hard to keep his eyes from filling up as he saluted briskly.
“Captain Strong reporting, sir, on the success of the Polaris unit to overcome their differences and become a fighting unit! And I mean fight!”
CHAPTER 11
“Atom City Express now ar
riving on track two!” The voice boomed over the loud-speaker system; and as the long, gleaming line of monorail cars eased to a stop with a soft hissing of brakes, the three cadets of the Polaris unit moved eagerly in that direction.
“Atom City, here we come,” cried Astro.
“We and a lot of others with the same idea,” said Tom. And, in fact, there were only a few civilians in the crowd pressing toward the car doors. Uniforms predominated—the blue of the cadets, enlisted men in scarlet, even a few in the black and gold uniforms which identified the officers of the Solar Guard.
“Personally,” whispered Tom to his friends, “the first thing I want to do at Atom City is take a long walk—somewhere where I won’t see a single uniform.”
“As for me,” drawled Roger, “I’m going to find a stereo studio where they’re showing a Liddy Tamal feature. I’ll sit down in a front-row seat and just watch that girl act for about six hours.”
He turned to Astro. “And how about you?”
“Why…why…I’ll string along with you, Roger,” said the cadet from Venus. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a—a—”
Tom and Roger laughed.
“A what?” teased Tom .
“A—a—girl,” sputtered Astro, blushing.
“I don’t believe it,” said Roger in mock surprise. “I never—”
“Come on,” interrupted Tom. “Time to get aboard.”
They hurried across the platform and entered the sleek car. Inside they found seats together and sank into the luxurious chairs.
Astro sighed gently, stretched out his long legs and closed his eyes blissfully for a few moments.
“Don’t wake me till we get started,” he said.
“We already have,” returned Tom. “Take a look.”
Astro’s eyes popped open. He glanced through the clear crystal glass at the rapidly moving landscape.
“These express jobs move on supercushioned ball bearings,” explained Tom. “You can’t even feel it when you pull out of the station.”
“Blast my jets!” marveled Astro. “I’d sure like to take a look at the power unit on this baby.”
“Even on a vacation, all this guy can think about is power!” grumbled Roger.
“How about building up our own power,” suggested Tom. “It’s a long haul to Atom City. Let’s get a bite to eat.”
“O.K. with me, spaceboy!” Astro grinned. “I could swallow a whole steer!”
“That’s a great idea, cadet,” said a voice from behind them.
It came from a gray-haired man, neatly dressed in the black one-piece stylon suit currently in fashion, and with a wide red sash around his waist.
“Beg pardon, sir,” said Tom, “were you speaking to us?”
“I certainly was,” replied the stranger. “I’m asking you to be my guests at dinner. And while I may not be able to buy your friend a whole steer, I’ll gladly get him a piece of one.”
“Hey,” said Astro, “do you think he means it?”
“He seems to,” replied Tom. He turned to the stranger. “Thanks very much, sir, but don’t think Astro was just kidding about his appetite.”
“I’m sure he wasn’t.” The gray-haired man smiled, and came over and stretched out his hand. “Then it’s a deal,” he said. “My name’s Joe Bernard.”
“Bernard!” exclaimed Roger. He paled and glanced quickly at his two friends, but they were too busy looking over their new friend to notice.
“Glad to know you, sir,” said Tom. “I’m Tom Corbett. This is Astro, from Venus. And over here is—”
“Roger’s my name,” the third cadet said quickly. “Won’t you sit down, sir?”
“No use wasting time,” said Bernard. “Let’s go right into the dining car.” The cadets were in no mood to argue with him. They picked up the small microphones beside their chairs and sent food orders to the kitchen; and by the time they were seated in the dining car, their orders were ready on the table.
Mr. Bernard, with a twinkle in his eye, watched them enjoy their food. In particular, he watched Astro.
“I warned you, sir,” whispered Tom, as the Venusian went to work on his second steak.
“I wouldn’t have missed this for anything,” said Bernard. He smiled, lit a cigar of fine Mercurian leaf tobacco and settled back comfortably.
“And now,” he said, “let me explain why I was so anxious to have dinner with you. I’m in the import-export business. Ship to Mars, mostly. But all my life I’ve wanted to be a spaceman.”
“Well, what was the trouble, Mr. Bernard?” asked Roger.
The man in black sighed. “Couldn’t take the acceleration, boys. Bad heart. I send out more than five hundred cargoes a year, to all parts of the solar system; but myself, I’ve never been more than a mile off the surface of the earth.”
“It sure must be disappointing—to want to blast off, and know that you can’t,” said Tom.
“I tried, once,” said Bernard, with a rueful smile. “Yup! I tried.” He gazed thoughtfully out the window.
“When I was your age, about twenty, I wanted to get into Space Academy worse than anybody I’d ever met.” He paused. “Except for one person. A boyhood buddy of mine—named Kenneth—”
“Excuse me, sir,” cut in Roger quickly, “but I think we’d better get back to our car. With this big liberty in front of us, we need a lot of rest.”
“But, Roger!” exclaimed Tom.
Bernard smiled. “I understand, Roger. Sometimes I forget that I’m an old man. And when you’ve already tasted the excitement of space travel, talk like mine must seem rather dull.” He stood up and faced the three cadets. “It’s been very pleasant, Corbett, Astro, Roger. Now run along and get your rest. I’ll just sit here for a while and watch the scenery.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Tom, “for the dinner—your company—and everything,” he finished lamely.
There was a chorus of good-byes and the boys returned to their car. But there was little conversation now. Gradually, the lights in the cars dimmed to permit sleep. But Tom kept listening to the subdued click of the monorail—and kept wondering. Finally Roger, sleeping next to him, wakened for a moment.
“Roger,” said Tom, “I want to ask you something.”
“Wait’ll the mornin’,” mumbled Roger. “Wanta sleep.”
“The way you acted with Bernard,” Tom persisted. “You ate his dinner and then acted like he was poison. Why was that, Roger?”
The other sat bolt upright. “Listen,” he said. “Listen!” Then he slumped back in his chair and closed his eyes. “Lemme sleep, Corbett. Lemme sleep, I tell you.” He turned his back and in a moment was making sounds of deep slumber, but Tom felt sure that Roger was not asleep—that he was wide awake, with something seriously bothering him.
Tom leaned back and gazed out over the passing plains and up into the deep black of space. The Moon was full, large and round. He could distinguish Mare Imbrium, the largest of Luna’s flat plains visible from Earth, where men had built the great metropolis of Luna City. Farther out in the deep blackness, he could see Mars, glowing like a pale ruby. Before long he would be up there again. Before long he would be blasting off in the Polaris with Astro and with Roger—
Roger! Why had he acted so strangely at dinner?
Tom remembered the night he saw Roger in Galaxy Hall alone at night, and the sudden flash on the field a few days before when they had won the mercuryball game. Was there some reason behind his companion’s strange actions? In vain, Tom racked his brain to find the answer. There had to be some explanation. Yet what could it possibly be? He tossed and turned and worried and finally—comfortable as the monorail car was—he fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.
* * * *
Atom City! Built of the clear crystal mined so cheaply on Titan, moon of Saturn, Atom City had risen from a barren North American wasteland to become a show place of the universe. Here was the center of all space communications—a proud city of giant crystal buildings.
Here had been developed the first slidewalks, air cars, three-dimensional stereos and hundreds of other ideas for better living.
And here at Atom City was the seat of the great Solar Alliance, housed in a structure which covered a quarter of a mile at its base and which towered three thousand noble feet into the sky.
The three cadets stepped out of the monorail and walked across the platform to a waiting air car—jet-powered, shaped like a teardrop and with a clear crystal top.
“We want the best hotel in town,” said Astro grandly to the driver.
“And get this speed bug outa here in a hurry,” Roger told him. “There’s a lot we want to do.”
The driver couldn’t help smiling at the three cadets so obviously enjoying their first leave.
“We’ve got three top hotels,” he said. “One’s as good as the other. They’re the Earth, the Mars and the Venus.”
“The Earth,” voted Tom.
“The Mars,” shouted Roger.
“The Venus!” roared Astro.
“All right,” said the driver with a laugh, “make up your minds.”
“Which of ‘em is nearest the center of the city?” Tom asked.
“The Mars.”
“Then blast off for Mars!” ordered Tom, and the air car shot away from the station and moved up into the stream of expressway traffic fifty feet above the ground.
As the little car sped along the broad avenue, Tom remembered how often, as a boy, he’d envied the Space Cadets who’d come to his home town of New Chicago on leave. Now here he was—in uniform, with a three-day pass, and all of Atom City to enjoy it in.
A few minutes later the air car stopped in front of the Mars Hotel. The cadets saw the entrance loom before them—a huge opening, with ornate glass and crystal in many different colors.
They walked across the high-ceilinged lobby toward the desk. All around them, the columns that supported the ceiling were made of the clearest crystal. Their feet sank into soft, lustrous deep-pile rugs made of Venusian jungle grass.
The boys advanced toward the huge circular reception desk where a pretty girl with red hair waited to greet them.
“May I help you?” she asked. She flashed a dazzling smile.
The Tom Corbett Space Cadet Megapack: 10 Classic Young Adult Sci-Fi Novels Page 10
