“You’re a lucky girl,” said Roger. “It just so happens you can help me. We’ll have dinner together—just the two of us—and then we’ll go to the stereos. After which we’ll—”
The girl shook her head sadly. “I can see your friend’s got a bad case of rocket shock,” she said to Tom.
“That’s right,” Tom admitted. “But if you’ll give us a triple room, we’ll make sure he doesn’t disturb anybody.”
“Ah,” said Roger, “go blow your jets!”
“I have a nice selection of rooms here on photo-slides if you’d care to look at them,” the girl suggested.
“How many rooms in this hotel, Beautiful?” asked Roger.
“Nearly two thousand,” answered the girl.
“And you have photo-slides of all two thousand?”
“Why, yes,” answered the girl. “Why do you ask?”
“You and Astro go take a walk, Corbett,” said Roger with a grin. “I’ll select our quarters!”
“You mean,” asked the girl, a little flustered, “you want to look at all the slides?”
“Sure thing, Lovely!” said Roger with a lazy smile.
“But—but that would take three hours!”
“Exactly my idea!” said Roger.
“Just give us a nice room, Miss,” said Tom, cutting in. “And please excuse Manning. He’s so smart, he gets a little dizzy now and then. Have to take him over to a corner and revive him.” He glanced at Astro, who picked Roger up in his arms and walked away with him as though he were a baby.
“Come on, you space Romeo!” said Astro.
“Hey—ouch—hey—lemme go, ya big ape. You’re killing your best friend!” Roger twisted around in Astro’s viselike grasp, to no avail.
“Space fever,” explained Tom. “He’ll be O.K. soon.”
“I think I understand,” said the girl with a nervous smile.
She handed Tom a small flashlight. “Here’s your photoelectric light key for room 2305 F. That’s on the two hundred thirtieth floor.”
Tom took the light key and turned toward the slidestairs where Astro was holding Roger firmly, despite his frantic squirming.
“Hey, Tom,” cried Roger, “tell this Venusian ape to let me go!”
“Promise to behave yourself?” asked Tom.
“We came here to have fun, didn’t we?” demanded Roger.
“That doesn’t mean getting thrown out of the hotel because you’ve got to make passes at every beautiful girl.”
“What’s the matter with beautiful girls?” growled Roger. “They’re official equipment, like a radar scanner. You can’t get along without them!”
Tom and Astro looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“Come on, you jerk,” said Astro, “let’s get washed up. I wanta take a walk and get something to eat. I’m hungry again!”
An hour later, showered and dressed in fresh uniforms, the Polaris crew began a tour of the city. They went to the zoo and saw dinosaurs, a tyrannosaurus, and many other monsters extinct on Earth millions of years ago, but still breeding in the jungles of Tara. They visited the council chamber of the Solar Alliance where delegates from the major planets and from the larger satellites, such as Titan of Saturn, Ganymede of Jupiter, and Luna of Earth made the laws for the tri-planetary league. The boys walked through the long halls of the Alliance building, looking at the great documents which had unified the solar system.
They reverently inspected original documents of the Universal Bill of Rights and the Solar Constitution, which guaranteed basic freedoms of speech, press, religion, peaceful assembly and representative government. And even brash, irrepressible Roger Manning was awestruck as they tiptoed into the great Chamber of the Galactic Court, where the supreme judicial body of the entire universe sat in solemn dignity.
Later, the boys visited the Plaza de Olympia—a huge fountain, filled with water taken from the Martian Canals, the lakes of Venus and the oceans of Earth, and ringed by a hundred large statues, each one symbolizing a step in mankind’s march through space.
But then, for the Space Cadets, came the greatest thrill of all—a trip through the mighty Hall of Science, at once a museum of past progress and a laboratory for the development of future wonders.
Thousands of experiments were being conducted within this crystal palace, and as Space Cadets, the boys were allowed to witness a few of them. They watched a project which sought to harness the solar rays more effectively; another which aimed to create a new type of fertilizer for Mars, so people of that planet would be able to grow their own food in their arid deserts instead of importing it all from other worlds. Other scientists were trying to adapt Venusian jungle plants to grow on other planets with a low oxygen supply; while still others, in the medical field, sought for a universal antibody to combat all diseases.
Evening finally came and with it time for fun and entertainment. Tired and leg weary, the cadets stepped on a slidewalk and allowed themselves to be carried to a huge restaurant in the heart of Atom City.
“Food,” exulted Astro as the crystal doors swung open before them. “Smell it! Real, honest-to-gosh food!” He rushed for a table.
“Hold it, Astro,” shouted Tom. “Take it easy.”
“Yeah,” added Roger. “It’s been five hours since your last meal—not five weeks!”
“Meal!” snorted the Venusian cadet. “Call four spaceburgers a meal? And anyway, it’s been six hours, not five.”
Laughing, Tom and Roger followed their friend inside. Luckily, they found a table not far from the door, where Astro grabbed the microphone and ordered his usual tremendous dinner.
The three boys ate hungrily as course after course appeared on the middle of the table, via the direct shaft from the kitchen. So absorbed was Manning that he did not notice the approach of a tall dark young man of about his own age, dressed in the red-brown uniform of the Passenger Space Service. But the young man, who wore a captain’s high-billed hat, suddenly caught sight of Roger.
“Manning,” he called, “what brings you here?”
“Al James!” cried Roger and quickly got up to shake hands. “Of all the guys in the universe to show up! Sit down and have a bite with us.”
The space skipper sat down. Roger introduced him to Tom and Astro. There was a round of small talk.
“Whatever made you become a Space Cadet, Roger?” asked James finally.
“Oh, you know how it is,” said Roger. “You can get used to anything.”
Astro almost choked on a mouthful of food. He shot a glance at Tom, who shook his head as though warning him not to speak.
James grinned broadly. “I remember how you used to talk back home. The Space Cadets were a bunch of tin soldiers trying to feel important. The Academy was a lot of space gas. I guess, now, you’ve changed your mind.”
“Maybe I have,” said Roger. He glanced uneasily at his two friends, but they pretended to be busy eating. “Maybe I have.” Roger’s eyes narrowed, his voice became a lazy drawl. “At that it’s better’n being a man in a monkey suit, with nothing to do but impress the passengers and order around the crew.”
“Wait a minute,” said James. “What kind of a crack is that?”
“No crack at all. Just the way I feel about you passenger gents who don’t know a rocket tube from a ray-gun nozzle.”
“Look, Manning,” returned James. “No need to get sore, just because you couldn’t do any better than the Space Cadets.”
“Blast off,” shouted Roger, “before I fuse your jets.”
Tom spoke up. “I think you’d better go, Captain.”
“I’ve got six men outside,” sneered the other. “I’ll go when I’m ready.”
“You’re ready now,” spoke up Astro. He stood up to his full height. “We don’t want any trouble,” the cadet from Venus said, “but we’re not braking our jets to get away from it, either.”
James took a good look at Astro’s powerful frame. Without another word he walked away.
&
nbsp; Tom shook his head. “That pal of yours is a real Space Cadet fan, isn’t he, Roger?”
“Yeah,” said Astro. “Just like Manning is himself.”
“Look,” said Roger. “Look, you guys—” He hesitated, as though intending to say something more, but then he turned back to his dinner. “Go on—finish your food,” he growled. He bent over his plate and ate without lifting his eyes. And not another word was spoken at the table until a young man approached, carrying a portable teleceiver screen.
“Pardon me,” he said. “Is one of you Cadet Tom Corbett?”
“Why—I am,” acknowledged Tom.
“There’s a call for you. Seems they’ve been trying to reach you all over Atom City.” He placed the teleceiver screen on the table, plugged it into a floor socket and set the dials.
“Hope’s there’s nothing wrong at home,” said Tom to his friends. “My last letter from Mom said Billy was messing around with a portable atom reactor and she was afraid he might blow himself up.”
A picture began to take shape on the screen. “Migosh,” said Astro. “It’s Captain Strong.”
“It certainly is,” said the captain’s image. “Having dinner, eh, boys? Ummmm—those baked shrimps look good.”
“They’re terrific,” said Astro. “Wish you were here.”
“Wish you could stay there,” said Captain Strong.
“Oh, no!” moaned Astro. “Don’t tell me!”
“Sorry, boys,” came the voice from the teleceiver. “But that’s it. You’ve got to return to the Academy immediately. The whole cadet corps has been ordered into space for special maneuvers. We blast off tomorrow morning at six hundred.”
“But, sir,” objected Tom, “we can’t get a monorail until morning!”
“This is an official order, Corbett. So you have priority over all civilian transportation.” The Solar Guard captain smiled. “I’ve tied up a whole bank of teleceivers in Atom City searching for you. Get back to Space Academy fast—commandeer an air car if you must, but be here by six hundred hours!” The captain waved a cheery good-bye and the screen went dark.
“Space maneuvers,” breathed Astro. “The real thing.”
“Yeah,” agreed Tom. “Here we go!”
“Our first hop into deep space!” said Roger. “Let’s get out of here!”
CHAPTER 12
“The following ships in Squadron A will blast off immediately,” roared Commander Walters over the teleceiver. He looked up alertly from a chart before him in the Academy spaceport control tower. He began to name the ships. “Capella, orbital tangent—09834, Arcturus, orbital tangent—09835, Centauri, orbital tangent—09836, Polaris, orbital tangent—09837!”
Aboard the space cruiser Polaris, Tom Corbett turned away from the control board. “That’s us, sir,” he said to Captain Strong.
“Very well, Corbett.” The Solar Guard captain walked to the ship’s intercom and flipped on the switch.
“Astro, Roger, stand by!”
Astro and Roger reported in. Strong began to speak. “The cadet corps has been divided into squadrons of four ships each. We are command ship of Squadron A. When we reach free-fall space, we are to proceed as a group until eight hundred hours, when we are to open sealed orders. Each of the other seven squadrons will open their orders at the same time. Two of the squadrons will then act as invaders while the remaining six will be the defending fleet. It will be the invaders’ job to reach their objective and the defenders’ job to stop them.”
“Spaceport control to rocket cruiser Polaris, your orbit has been cleared for blast-off.…” The voice of Commander Walters interrupted Strong in his instructions and he turned back to Tom.
“Take over, Corbett.”
Tom turned to the teleceiver. “Rocket cruiser Polaris to spaceport control.”
“…Blast off minus two—six hundred forty-eight.…”
“I read you clear,” said Tom. He clicked off the teleceiver and turned back to the intercom. “Stand by to raise ship! Control deck to radar deck. Do we have clear trajectory forward and up, Roger?”
“All clear forward and up,” replied Roger.
“Control deck to power deck…energize the cooling pumps!”
“Cooling pumps, aye,” came from Astro.
The giant ship began to shudder as the mighty pumps on the power deck started their build.
Tom strapped himself into the pilot’s seat and began checking the dials in front of him. Satisfied, he fastened his eyes on the sweep hand of the time clock. Above his head, the teleceiver screen brought him a clear picture of the Academy spaceport. He watched the giant cruisers take to the air one by one and rocket into the vastness of space.
The clock hand reached the ten-second mark.
“Stand by to raise ship!” Tom called into the intercom. The red hand moved steadily, inexorably. Tom reached for the master switch.
“Blast off minus—five—four—three—two—one—zero!”
Tom threw the switch.
The great ship hovered above the ground for a few moments. Then it heaved itself skyward, faster and ever faster, pushing the Earthmen deep into their acceleration cushions.
Reaching free-fall space, Tom flipped on the artificial-gravity generator. He felt its pull on his body, quickly checked all the instruments and turned to Captain Strong.
“Ship space-borne at six hundred fifty-three, sir.”
“Very well, Corbett,” replied Strong. “Check in with the Arcturus, Capella and the Centauri, form up on one another and assume a course that will bring you back over Academy spaceport at eight hundred hours, when we will open orders.”
“Yes, sir,” said Tom, turning back eagerly to the control board.
For nearly two hours the four rocket ships of Squadron A moved through space in a perfect arc, shaping up for the 0800 deadline. Strong made use of the time to check a new astrogation prism perfected by Dr. Dale for use at hyperspace speeds. Tom rechecked his instruments, then prepared hot tea and sandwiches in the galley for his shipmates.
“This is what I call service,” said Astro. He stood stripped to the waist, a wide leather belt studded with assorted wrenches of various shapes and sizes strapped around his hips. In one hand he carried a wad of waste cotton with which he continually polished the surfaces of the atomic motors, while his eyes constantly searched the many gauges in front of him for the slightest sign of engine failure.
“Never mind bringing anything up to Manning. I’ll eat his share.”
Astro had deliberately turned the intercom on so Roger on the radar deck might hear. The response from that corner was immediate and emphatic.
“Listen, you rocket-headed grease monkey,” yelled Roger. “If you so much as smell that grub, I’ll come down and feed you into the reactant chamber!”
Tom smiled at Astro and turned to the ladder leading up from the power deck. Passing through the control deck on the way to the radar bridge, he glanced at the clock. It was ten minutes to eight.
“Only one thing I’m worried about, Corbett,” said Roger through a mouthful of sandwich.
“What’s that?” asked Tom.
“Collision!” said Roger. “Some of these space-happy cadets might get excited, and I for one don’t want to wind up as a flash in Earth’s atmosphere!”
“Why, you have radar, to see anything that goes on.”
“Oh, sure,” said Roger, “I can keep this wagon outa their way, but will they stay outa mine? Why my father told me once—” Roger choked on his food and turned away to the radar screen.
“Well,” said Tom after a moment, “what did your father tell you?”
“Ah—nothing—not important. But I’ve got to get a cross-fix on Regulus before we start our little games.”
Tom looked puzzled. Here was another of Roger’s quick changes of attitude. What was it all about? But there was work to do, so Tom shrugged his shoulders and returned to the control deck. He couldn’t forget what Roger had said about a collision, though.
“Excuse me, Captain,” said Tom, “but have there been any serious collisions in space between ships?”
“Sure have, Tom,” replied Strong. “About twenty years ago, maybe less, there was a whole wave of them. That was before we developed superrebound pulse radar. The ships were faster than the radar at close range.”
Strong paused. “Why do you ask?”
Before Tom could answer, there was a sharp warning from the captain.
“Eight o’clock, Corbett!”
Tom ripped open the envelope containing the sealed orders. “Congratulations,” he read. “You are in command of the defenders. You have under your command, Squadrons A—B—C—D—E—F. Squadrons G and H are your enemies, and at this moment are on their way to attack Luna City. It is your job to protect it and destroy the enemy fleet. Spaceman’s luck! Walters, Commander Space Academy, Senior Officer Solar Guard.”
“Roger,” yelled Tom, “we’ve been selected as flagship for the defenders! Get me a course to Luna City!”
“Good for us, spaceboy. I’ll give you that course in a jiffy!”
“…Capella to Polaris—am standing by for your orders.…” Tony Richards’ voice crackled over the teleceiver. One by one the twenty-three ships that made up the defender’s fleet checked in for orders.
“Astro,” shouted Tom, “stand by for maneuver—and be prepared to give me every ounce of thrust you can get!”
“Ready, willing and able, Tom,” replied Astro. “Just be sure those other space jockeys can keep up with me, that’s all!”
Tom turned to Captain Strong.
“What do you think of approaching—”
Strong cut him off. “Corbett, you are in complete command. Take over—you’re losing time talking to me!”
“Yes, sir!” said Tom. He turned back to the control board, his face flushed with excitement. Twenty-four ships to maneuver and the responsibility all his own. Via a chart projected on a screen, he studied various approaches to the Moon and Luna City. What would he do if he were in command of the invading fleet? He noticed the Moon was nearing a point where it would be in eclipse on Luna City itself. He studied the chart further, made several notations and turned to the teleceiver.
The Tom Corbett Space Cadet Megapack: 10 Classic Young Adult Sci-Fi Novels Page 11
