“Attention—attention—flagship Polaris to Squadrons B and C—proceed to chart seven—sectors eight and nine. You will patrol those sectors. Attention Squadrons D and F—proceed to Luna City at emergency space speed, hover at one hundred thousand feet above Luna City spaceport and wait for further orders. Attention, ships three and four of Squadron F—you will proceed to chart six—sectors sixty-eight through seventy-five.
—“Attention Squadrons D and F—proceed to Luna City”
Cut all rockets and remain there until further orders. The remainder of Squadron F—ships one and two—will join Squadron A. Squadron A will stand by for further orders.” Tom glanced at the clock and punched the intercom button.
“Have you got that course, Roger?”
“Three degrees on the starboard rockets, seventy-eight degrees on the up-plane of the ecliptic will put you at the corner of Luna Drive and Moonset Land in the heart of Luna City, spaceboy!” answered Roger.
“Get that, Astro?” asked Tom on the intercom.
“All set,” replied Astro.
“Attention all ships in Squadron A—this is flagship—code name Starlight—am changing course. Stand by to form up on me!”
Tom turned back to the intercom.
“Power deck, execute!”
At more than five thousand miles an hour, the Polaris hurtled toward its destination. One by one the remaining ships moved alongside until all six had their needlelike noses pointed toward the pale satellite of the Moon.
“I’d like to know what your plans are, Tom,” said Strong, when the long haul toward the Moon had settled down to a routine. “Just idle curiosity, nothing more. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“Golly, yes,” said Tom, “I’d be very grateful for your opinion.”
“Well, let’s have it,” said the captain. “But as for my opinion—I’ll listen, but I won’t say anything.”
Tom grinned sheepishly.
“Well,” he began, “if I were in command of the invading fleet, I would strike in force—I’d have to, to do damage with only eight ships. There are three possible approaches to Luna City. One is from the Earth side, using the eclipse corridor of darkness as protection. To meet that, I’ve stationed two ships at different levels and distances in that corridor so that it would be impossible for an invasion to pass unnoticed.”
“You mean, you’d be willing to give up two ships to the invader to have him betray his position. Is that right?”
“Yes, sir. But I’ve also sent Squadrons B and C to sectors eight and nine on chart seven. So I have a roving squadron to go to their aid, should the invader strike there. And on the other hand, should he manage to get through my outer defense, I have Squadrons D and E over Luna City itself as an inner defense. As for Squadron A, we’ll try to engage the enemy first and maybe weaken him; at least reduce the full force of his attack. And then have Squadrons B, C, D and E finish him off, by attack from three different points.”
Strong nodded silently. The young cadet was shaping up a defensive strategy with great skill. If he could only follow through on his plans, the invaders of Luna City wouldn’t have much chance of success—even if willing to take heavy losses.
Roger’s voice came on. “Got a report for you, Tom. From command ship, Squadron B. They’ve sighted the invaders and are advancing to meet them.”
Tom checked his charts and turned to the intercom.
“Send them this message, Roger,” he said. “From Starlight, to command ship, Squadrons B and C—approach enemy ships from position of chart nineteen, sections one through ten.”
“Right!” said Roger.
Strong smiled. Tom was driving his heaviest force between the invading fleet and its objective—forcing the aggressors into a trap.
Tom gave more crisp orders to his squadrons. He asked Roger for an estimated range, and then, rechecking his position, turned again to the intercom.
“Astro, how much could you get out of this baby by opening the by-pass between the cooling pumps and the reactant chamber? That’d mean feeding the stuff into the motors only half cooled.”
Strong turned, started to speak, then clamped his lips together.
“Another quarter space speed, roughly,” replied Astro, “about fifteen hundred miles more an hour. Do you want me to do that?”
“No, not now,” replied Tom. “Just wanted to know what I could depend on, if I get stuck.”
“O.K.,” said Astro. “Let me know!”
“Why use emergency speed, Corbett?” asked Strong. “You seem to have your enemy right where you want him now.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Tom. “And the enemy knows I have him. He can’t possibly attack Luna City now. But he can still run away. He can make his escape by this one route.”
Tom walked to the chart and ran his finger on a line away from the invader’s position into the asteroid belt.
“I don’t want him to get away,” Tom explained. “And with the extra speed, we can cut him off, force him to turn into a position where the remainder of my fleet would finish him off.”
“You’ll do this with just the Polaris?”
“Oh, no, sir,” said Tom. “I’d use the Arcturus, Capella and the Centauri, as well.”
“Are you sure those other ships can equal your speed?”
“They’ve got exactly the same type engines as we have here on the Polaris, sir. I’m sure they could—and with perfect safety.”
Strong hesitated a moment, started to ask a question, then stopped and walked to the chart screen. He checked the figures. He checked them four times, then turned to Tom with a grin and an outstretched hand.
“I’ve got to offer my congratulations, Tom. This maneuver would wipe them out. And I’ve got a notion that you’d come off without the loss of a single ship, plus, and it is a big plus, keeping the invaders more than fifty thousand miles away from their objective!”
The captain turned to the teleceiver. “Rocket cruiser Polaris to control tower at Space Academy—”
There was a crackle of static and then the deep voice of Commander Walters boomed from the speaker.
“Spaceport control to Polaris. Come in, Steve.”
In a few brief sentences, Strong outlined Tom’s plan of action to the Academy commander. The commander’s face on the teleceiver widened into a grin, then broke out in a hearty laugh.
“What’s that, sir?” asked Captain Strong.
“Very simple, Steve. All of us—all the Academy top brass—develop a foolproof test for cadet maneuvers. And then your young Corbett makes us look like amateurs.”
“But didn’t you expect one side or the other to win?” asked Strong.
“Of course, but not like this. We’ve been expecting a couple of days of maneuver, with both sides making plenty of mistakes that we could call them on. But here Corbett wraps the whole thing up before we can get our pencils sharpened.”
“Better stuff cotton in Corbett’s ears before he hears all this,” rasped Roger Manning over the intercom. “Or his head’ll be too big to go through the hatch.”
“Quiet, Manning,” came Astro’s voice from the power deck. “Your mouth alone is bigger than Tom’s head’ll ever be.”
“Look, you Venusian ape—” began Roger, but Commander Walters’ voice boomed out again. His face on the teleceiver screen was serious now.
“Attention! Attention all units! The battle has been fought and won on the chart screen of the rocket cruiser Polaris. The Luna City attack has been repelled and the invading fleet wiped out. All units and ships will return to Space Academy at once. Congratulations to all and end transmission.”
The commander’s face faded from the screen. Captain Strong turned to Tom. “Good work,” he said.
He was interrupted by a crackle of static from the teleceiver. A face suddenly appeared on the screen—a man’s face, frightened and tense.
“S O S.” The voice rang out through the control deck.
“This is an
S O S. Space passenger ship Lady Venus requests assistance immediately. Position is sector two, chart one hundred three. Emergency. We must have—”
The screen went blank, the voice stopped as though cut off by a knife. Strong frantically worked the teleceiver dials to re-establish contact.
“Polaris to Lady Venus,” he called. “Come in Lady Venus. Rocket cruiser Polaris calling Lady Venus. Come in! Come in!”
There was no answer. The passenger ship’s instruments had gone dead.
CHAPTER 13
“Polaris to Commander Walters at Space Academy—Come in, Commander Walters!” Captain Strong’s voice was urgent in the teleceiver.
“Just worked up an assumed position on the Lady Venus,” said Roger over the intercom. “I think she’s bearing about seventeen degrees to port of us, and about one-twenty-eight on the down-plane of the ecliptic.”
“O.K., Roger,” said Tom. “Captain Strong’s trying to reach Commander Walters now.” He made a quick mental calculation. “Golly, Roger—if you’ve figured it right, we’re closer to the Lady Venus than anyone else!”
The teleceiver audio crackled.
“Commander Walters at Space Academy to Captain Strong on the Polaris. Come in, Steve!”
“Commander!” Strong’s voice sounded relieved. “Did you get that emergency from the Lady Venus—the S O S?”
“Yes, we did, Steve,” said the commander. “How far away from her are you?”
Without a word, Tom handed Strong the position that Roger had computed. Strong relayed the information to the commander.
“If you’re that close, go to her aid in the Polaris. You’re nearer than any Solar Guard patrol ship and you can do just as much.”
“Right, sir,” replied Steve. “I’ll report as soon as I get any news. End transmission!”
“Spaceman’s luck, end transmission!” said the commander.
“Have you got a course for us, Roger?” asked Strong.
“Yes, sir!”
“Then let’s get out of here. I have a feeling there’s something more than just the usual emergency attached to that S O S from the Lady Venus.”
In twenty seconds the mighty cruiser was blasting through space to the aid of the stricken passenger ship.
“Better get the emergency equipment ready, Tom,” said Strong. “Space suits for the four of us and every spare space suit you have on the ship. Never can tell what we might run into. Also the first-aid surgical kit and every spare oxygen bottle. Oh, yeah, and have Astro get both jet boats ready to blast off immediately. I’ll keep trying to pick them up again on the teleceiver.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Tom sharply.
“What’s going on up there?” asked Astro, when Tom had relayed the orders from Captain Strong. Tom quickly told him of the emergency signal from the Lady Venus.
“Lady—Venus—” said the big cadet, rolling the name on his tongue, “I know her. She’s one of the Martian City—Venusport jobs—an old-timer. Converted from a chemical burner to atomic reaction about three years ago!”
“Any ideas what the trouble might be?” asked Tom.
“I don’t know,” replied Astro. “There are a hundred and fifty things that could go wrong—even on this wagon and she’s brand new. But I wouldn’t be surprised if it was on the power deck!”
“And what makes you think so?” asked Tom.
“I knew a spaceman once that was on a converted tub just like the Lady Venus and he had trouble with the reaction chamber.”
“Wow!” exclaimed Tom. “Let’s hope it isn’t that now!”
“You can say that again,” said Astro grimly. “When this stuff gets out of control, there’s very little you can do with it, except leave it alone and pile out!”
The Polaris, rocketing through space at full space speed, plunged like a silver bullet through the vastness of the black void, heading for what Strong hoped to be the Lady Venus. Tom prepared the emergency equipment, doubling all the reserves on the oxygen bottles by refilling the empties he found on the ship and making sure that all space suits were in perfect working order. Then he opened the emergency surgical kit and began the laborious task of examining every vial and drug in the kit to acquaint himself with what there was to work with just in case. He brought all the stores of jelly out for radiation burns and finally opened a bottle of special sterilization liquid with which to wipe all the instruments and vials clean. He checked the contents of the kit once more, and, satisfied that everything was as ready as he could make it, he went up to the control deck.
“Any other message from them yet, sir?” asked Tom.
“Nothing yet,” answered Strong. “If I could pick them up on the teleceiver, maybe they could tell us what the trouble is and then we could more or less be prepared to help them.” He bent over the teleceiver screen and added grimly, “If there is anything left to help!”
“Radar deck to control deck!” Roger’s voice was tense. “I think I’ve picked them up on the radar scanner, Captain Strong!”
“Relay it down here to control-deck scanner, Manning,” ordered Strong.
“Ummmh!” murmured the captain when the screen began to glow. “I’m pretty sure that’s her. Here’s that assumed position Roger worked up, Tom. Check it against this one here on the scanner.”
Tom quickly computed the position of the object on the scanner and compared it to the position Roger had given them previously.
“If Roger’s positioning was correct, sir,” said Tom, “then that’s the Lady Venus. They both check out perfectly!”
Strong, bent over the radar scanner, didn’t answer. Finally he turned around and flipped off the scanner. “That’s her,” he announced. “Congratulations, Roger. You hit it right on the nose!”
“How shall we approach her, sir?” asked Tom.
“We’d better wait until she sends up her flares.”
“You mean the identification flares for safety factors?”
“That’s right,” replied Strong. “A white flare means it’s all right to come alongside and couple air locks. A red one means to stand off and wait for instructions.” Strong turned to the intercom.
“Control deck to power deck. Reduce thrust to one quarter space speed!”
“Power deck, aye,” answered Astro.
“We’ll wait until we’re about two miles away from her and then use our braking jets in the bow of the ship to bring us within a few thousand feet of her,” commented Strong.
“Yes, sir,” said Tom.
“Work up an estimated range, Roger,” said Strong, “and give me a distance on our approach.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Roger replied. “Objective four miles away now, sir.”
“When we hit three miles,” said Strong to Tom, “have Astro stand by the forward braking jets.”
“Aye, sir,” said Tom.
“Three-and-a-half miles,” said Roger a few moments later. “Closing in fast. Lady Venus looks like a dead ship.”
“That could only mean one thing,” said Strong bitterly. “There has been a power-deck failure of some sort.”
“Three miles to objective, sir,” reported Roger. “I think I can pick her up on the teleceiver now, but only one way, from us to her.”
“All right,” said Strong, “see what you can do.”
In a few moments the teleceiver screen glowed and then the silver outline of the Lady Venus appeared on the screen.
“I don’t see any damage to her hull,” said Strong half to himself. “So if it was an explosion, it wasn’t a bad one.”
“Yes, sir,” said Tom. “Shall I stand by with the flares?”
“Better send up a yellow identification flare, identifying us as the Solar Guard. Let them know who we are!”
Tom turned to the yellow button on his left and pressed it. Immediately a white flash resembling a meteor appeared on the teleceiver screen.
“There should be an answer soon,” said Strong.
“Three thousand yards to objective,” re
ported Roger.
“Fire braking rockets one half,” ordered Strong.
Tom relayed the order to Astro and made the necessary adjustments on the control panel.
“Stern drive rockets out,” ordered Strong.
Once again Tom relayed the message to Astro and turned to the control board.
“Cut all rockets!” ordered Strong sharply.
The great ship, slowed by the force of the braking rockets, became motionless in space a bare five hundred yards from the Lady Venus.
“They should be sending up their safety-factor flare soon,” said Strong. “Keep trying to raise them on the teleceiver, Roger.”
Strong was peering through a crystal port directly at the ship hanging dead in space opposite them. There wasn’t any sign of life. Tom stepped to the side of Steve Strong and looked out at the crippled passenger ship.
“Why don’t we go aboard, sir?” asked Tom.
“We’ll wait a little longer for the flare. If we don’t get it soon—”
“There it is, sir!” shouted Tom at Strong’s side.
From the flare port near the nose of the commercial ship, a ball of fire streaked out.
“Red!” said Strong grimly, “That means we can’t go alongside. We’ll have to use jet boats.”
“Captain Strong,” shouted Roger from the radar deck, “they’re signaling us with a small light from the upper port on the starboard side!”
“Can you read it?” asked Strong quickly.
“I think so, sir. They’re using standard space code, but the light is very dim.”
“What do they say?”
“…reaction…chamber—” said Roger slowly as he read the blinking light, “…radiation…leaking around…baffle…all…safe.…” Roger stopped. “That’s all, sir. I couldn’t get the rest of it.”
Strong turned to the intercom. “Astro, get the jet boats ready to blast off immediately. Roger, send this message. ‘Am coming aboard. Stand by to receive me on your number-one starboard jet-boat catapult deck, signed, Strong, Captain, Solar Guard.’”
“Yes, sir!” replied Roger.
“Get into your space suit, Tom, and give Astro a hand with the jet boats. I have to get a message back to Space Academy and tell them to send out help right away.”
The Tom Corbett Space Cadet Megapack: 10 Classic Young Adult Sci-Fi Novels Page 12
