The Tom Corbett Space Cadet Megapack: 10 Classic Young Adult Sci-Fi Novels

by Norton, Andre

  “Yes, sir,” gulped Roger. The full realization of what he had done was beginning to dawn on him.

  “And you’ve tampered with vital station equipment for your own personal use,” added Connel. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Roger noticed the major was strangely quiet in his interrogation. It felt like the calm before the storm.

  “Yes, sir,” admitted Roger, “I changed several circuits.”

  “Are you aware of the seriousness of your negligence, Manning?” Connel’s voice began to harden.

  “Yes—yes—I guess so, sir,” stumbled Roger.

  “Can you repair that radar so that it can be used as it was intended?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then do so immediately. There are ships in flight depending on your information and signals.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Roger quietly. Then he added quickly, “I’d like the major to know, sir, that this is the first time this has happened.”

  “I have only your word for that, Manning!” Connel finally began blasting in his all too familiar roar. “Since you’ve done it once, I see no reason to think you couldn’t have done it before or that you might not do it again!” The officer’s face was now almost purple with rage. “When you’ve repaired that set, return to your quarters! You are confined until I decide on disciplinary action!”

  Turning abruptly, Connel stormed out of the room, slamming the hatch closed behind him.

  With a sigh Roger turned back to the set. With trembling fingers he reconnected the terminals and made delicate adjustments on the many dials. Finally, as power began to flow through the proper chain of circuits, the radar scanner glowed into life and the hair-thin line of light swept around the dull green surface of the scope. It had been left on a setting covering two hundred miles around the space station, and seeing the area was clear, Roger increased the range to five hundred miles. The resulting scan sent a sudden chill down his spine. A spaceship was roaring toward the station at full thrust!

  Cold sweat beaded Roger’s forehead as he grabbed for the microphone and called Tom.

  “Radar bridge to control deck!” The words tumbled out frantically. “Tom! Tom! There’s a ship heading right for the station! Bearing 098! Distance 450 miles! Coming in on full thrust! Tom, acknowledge! Quick!”

  Down on the control deck, Tom had been watching a space freighter easing out of the station when Roger’s voice came over the speaker in a thin scream.

  “What?” he yelled. “Give me that again, Roger!”

  “Spaceship bearing 098—full thrust! Range now four twenty-five!”

  “By the craters of Luna,” shouted Tom, “why didn’t you pick her up sooner, Roger?”

  “Never mind that. Contact that guy and tell him to change course! He can’t brake in time now!”

  “All right! Sign off!” Without waiting for a reply, Tom cut Roger off and switched to a standard space band. His voice quivering, the young cadet spoke quickly and urgently into the microphone. “Space station to spaceship approaching on orbit 098. Change course! Emergency! Reduce thrust and change course or you will crash into us!”

  As he spoke, Tom watched the master screen of his scanner and saw the ship rocketing closer and closer with no change in speed or course. He realized that any action, even now, would bring the craft dangerously close to the station. Without hesitation, he flipped on the master switch of the central station communicator, opening every loud-speaker on the station to his voice.

  “Attention! Attention! This is traffic-control center! Emergency! Repeat. Emergency! All personnel in and near landing ports five, six, seven, eight, and nine—decks A, B, and C—evacuate immediately to opposite side of the station. Emergency crews stand by for crash! Spaceship heading for station! May crash! Emergency—emergency!”

  On the endangered decks, men began to move quickly, and in a moment the great man-made satellite was prepared for disaster. On the control deck, Tom stayed at his station, sounding the warning.

  “Emergency! Emergency! All personnel prepare for crash! All personnel prepare for crash!”

  CHAPTER 8

  “There—there!” shouted Captain Stefens into the mike aboard the jet boat circling around the station. “I think I see something bearing about seventy degrees to my left and up about twenty on the ecliptic! Do you see it, Scotty?”

  Tom, in the bucket seat of the jet boat, strained his eyes but was unable to see over the control board.

  Terry Scott, in a second jet boat ten miles away, answered quickly, “Yes, I think I see it, sir.”

  “Good!” shouted Stefens. “Maybe we’ve found something.”

  He spoke to Tom over his shoulder, keeping his eye on the floating objects in the black void of space. “Come to the starboard about one-quarter full turn, Corbett, and hold it. Then up, about twenty-five degrees.”

  “Aye, aye, sir,” said Tom. He began to maneuver the small gnat-sized space craft to the proper position.

  “That’s good!” shouted Stefens. “Now hold that. Let me see. I think we’ve hit pay dirt.”

  From the right, Tom could see the red flash of the rockets of Terry Scott’s jet boat, which Astro had volunteered to pilot, coming into view. As soon as order had been restored aboard the station, search parties had been sent out to look for survivors.

  Carefully Tom slowed the space craft in response to Stefens’ brief commands and soon came to a dead halt in space. There, hovering right above them, visible through the crystal dome of the jet boat, Tom could see two space-suited figures floating effortlessly. A moment later Scott’s craft came alongside, and the two small ships were lashed together with magnetic lines. Tom and Stefens hurriedly pulled on their space helmets. They adjusted the valves regulating the oxygen supply in their suits, and Stefens slipped back the sliding top of the jet boat. Out on the hull he secured a line to a projecting ring, and ordering Tom to stand by, he pushed himself off the ship into the bottomless void of space.

  The line trailing behind him, Stefens drifted toward the two helpless figures. He reached them in less than a minute, secured the line to their belts, and signaled Tom to haul in.

  Near by, Terry Scott and Astro watched as the three figures were pulled to safety.

  Quickly the top of the jet boat was closed, oxygen pressure in the craft was restored, and the four men took off their helmets.

  “Whew!” said Loring. “I sure want to thank you for pulling us out of the deep!”

  “We sure do, sir!” added Mason. Then, with a quick look at Loring, he asked softly, “Were there any other survivors?”

  Stefens’ face was grim. “Not one. After we untangled the mess, we found bodies of two men. It was pretty bad. A little later something was spotted on the radar, and we hoped there might be survivors. Luckily for you, we came to look!”

  “By the rings of Saturn,” swore Loring softly, “Jardine and Bangs were brave men. They practically forced us to pile out when they saw they were going to crack up.” He turned to Mason. “Didn’t they, Al?”

  “Yeah, yeah, sure brave men,” Al Mason agreed.

  “Nothing to be done for them now, of course,” said Stefens. “What happened?” He paused, and then added, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to before you make out your report, but I’d sure like to know.”

  “I don’t really know what happened, sir,” said Loring. “We had made a deal for a ride back to Earth with Jardine and were sleeping back on the cargo deck. All of a sudden, Jardine came running in. Told us we were about to pile into the station and for us to suit up and get out. We asked him about himself, but he said he was going to stay and try to save the ship. We piled out, and—well, we saw the whole thing from out here. Like a big splash of light. It must have been pretty bad on the station, eh?”

  “Plenty bad, but thanks to Cadet Corbett here, there wasn’t a single injury. He warned everybody to get off that side of the station. A lot of damage but no casualties.”

  “Don’t you have an
y idea what made the ship crash?” asked Tom quietly.

  Loring looked at Tom but spoke to Stefens. “I told you all I know, sir. Can I expect to be questioned by everyone in the Solar Guard. Including cadets?”

  Stefens bristled. “It was a civil question, Loring,” he said stiffly, “but you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to!”

  Loring and Mason had not expected such a strong defense of the cadet, and Loring was quick to make amends. “I’m sorry—I guess I’m still a bit shaken up,” he muttered.

  Stefens grunted.

  “It wasn’t pretty, you know, watching that ship go up and not be able to do anything about it,” Loring continued plaintively. “Jardine and Bangs—well, they’re—they were sorta friends of mine.”

  They were silent all the way back to the station, each with his own thoughts—Stefens puzzling over the cause of the crash, Loring and Mason exchanging quick furtive glances and wondering how long their story would hold up, and Tom wondering how much Roger’s changing the power circuits on the radar had to do with the crash of the ship.

  * * * *

  “That’s right,” snapped Connel to the two enlisted spacemen. “I said I wanted the radar section of the communications deck closed and sealed off until further investigations. You can hook up and use one of the monitors in the traffic control meantime.”

  The two red-clad spacemen turned and walked away. Stefens stood to one side.

  “Don’t you think that’s carrying things a little too far, sir?” he asked Connel.

  “I’m doing this as much to protect Cadet Manning as I am to prosecute him! I want to be sure there was no connection between the crash of the Annie Jones and his tampering with the radar circuits!” Connel replied.

  “I guess you’re right, sir,” replied Stefens. “Those two survivors, Loring and Mason, are having coffee in the mess if you want to talk to them.”

  “Did they change their story?” asked Connel.

  “None at all. They were hooking a ride back to Atom City, and they were asleep in the cargo hold. Jardine, one of the pilots, came in and told them to pile out. They did.”

  “Ummmmh,” mused Connel. “I know those two, Loring and Mason. Had a little trouble with them recently on a trip to Tara. Suspended their papers. So if they were just hooking a ride, it might be they’re telling the truth!”

  “I have a report here on the damage to the station, sir, if you’d like to listen to it,” said Stefens, handing his superior a spool of audiotape.

  “Good! Did you make out the report yourself?” asked Connel.

  “Yes, sir. With the assistance of Terry Scott and Cadet Corbett.”

  “Good lad, that Corbett,” said Connel and paused. “The whole unit is good! If it weren’t for that hare-brained Manning, I’d say they had as bright a future in the Solar Guard as any unit I’ve seen!”

  “I’ll buy that, sir!” said Stefens with a smile. “That Corbett picked up traffic-control operations like a duck takes to water. And it’s been a long time since Jenledge on the power deck raved about a cadet the way he does about Astro.”

  Connel smiled. He was reluctant to press for an investigation of the radar deck, knowing that if he did, it would mean a damaging black mark against Manning. But justice was justice, and Connel came closer to worshiping justice than anything else in space!

  Connel placed the spool of tape in the audiograph and settled in a chair to listen. He didn’t like the entire affair. He didn’t like to think of losing a cadet of Manning’s ability because of one stupid mistake. He had recommended a thorough investigation. There was no other way. If Manning was cleared of the responsibility for the crash, he was free, and it would not show up against his record. If he wasn’t, however, then he’d have to pay. Yes, thought Connel to himself, as Stefens’ voice began to crackle harshly on the audiograph, if Manning was guilty, then Manning would most certainly pay. Connel would see to that.

  * * * *

  Deep in the heart of the space station, Loring and Mason were huddled over steaming cups of coffee whispering to each other cautiously.

  “Want more coffee, Mason?” asked Loring.

  “Who wants coffee when there’s going to be a Solar Guard investigation?” whined Mason. “Suppose they find out something?”

  “Relax, will ya?” muttered Loring reassuringly. “Connel doesn’t suspect a thing. Besides, he has that cadet under arrest!”

  “Yeah,” argued Mason, “but you don’t know those guys at Space Academy. All this honor stuff! It’s not like a regular investigation. They don’t stop digging until they dig up real facts! They’ll find out we stowed away and…”

  Loring calmly added cream and sugar to his coffee. “They can’t prove a thing. Jardine and Bangs are dead, and the ship’s nothing but a pile of junk.”

  “They’ll find out, I tell you, and now we’ve got murder on our hands!”

  A door behind Mason suddenly opened and Stefens appeared.

  “Shut up, you fool!” Loring hissed. He turned blandly to face Stefens. “Well, Captain, glad you came. I wanted to talk to you about getting us transportation back to Venusport.”

  “You’ll have to wait for the jet liner from Earth,” said Stefens. “See me in about two hours. Right now, I’ve got to make arrangements for the investigation of the crash.”

  “Sure, sir,” said Loring. “Ah—say, Captain, what do you expect the investigation to turn up?”

  “The true facts,” replied Stefens. “Whether the crash was due to the negligence of Cadet Manning or something that happened on the ship.”

  “Then you really think the cadet may be responsible?” asked Loring softly.

  “He admits to negligence, and the Annie Jones is a lot of evidence,” said Stefens with a shrug, and walked out.

  “There’s our answer!” said Loring triumphantly. “Come on!”

  “Where are we going?” asked Mason.

  “We’re going to have a little talk with our fall guy!”

  * * * *

  “Ahhh, sit down, Roger,” said Astro. “Everything will be O.K.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Tom. “You’re just wearing out the deck and your nerves walking back and forth like that. Everything will be O.K.” Tom tried hard to keep any apprehension out of his voice.

  “Nothing will make those two guys on the spaceship O.K.,” said Roger. He kicked viciously at a stool and sat down on the side of his bunk.

  Since the crash, Roger had been confined to his quarters, with Tom and Astro bringing him his meals. Tom had watched his unit-mate grow more and more bitter over the turn of events and was afraid Roger would do something rash.

  The central communicator over the door suddenly buzzed, and the three cadets waited for the announcement.

  “…Cadets Corbett and Astro report to rocket cruiser Polaris for indoctrination on hyperdrive—on the double—by order of Major Connel.”

  Tom and Astro got up. Astro found it hard to hide his eagerness to begin indoctrination on hyperdrive, and it was only his deep concern for Roger that kept him from letting out one of his bull-throated bellows.

  “Take it easy, Roger,” said Tom. “The investigation will be over and we’ll be on our way to Tara before you know it.”

  “Yeah, you space Romeo,” growled Astro, “crawl in the sack and rest your bones. You’re lucky you can miss this.”

  Roger managed a weak smile. “I’ll be O.K. Go ahead and learn about that hyperdrive before you explode.”

  There was an awkward moment while the three cadets stared at one another. The deep friendship between them didn’t need to be expressed in words. Abruptly, Tom and Astro turned and left the room.

  Roger stared at the closed door for a moment and then flopped on his bunk. He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep. Whatever happened, he thought, it wouldn’t do any good to knock himself out.

  As he lay there thinking back to the first months at Space Academy when he had met Tom and Astro, he heard a knock on the doo
r and he turned to see the steel hatch slide back stealthily. He jumped up.

  Loring stuck his head inside the door. “You alone, Manning?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Who’re you?” asked Roger.

  “My name’s Loring, and this is my space buddy, Al Mason. We were on the Annie Jones.”

  Roger’s eyes lighted up. “Then you know I’m not responsible for the crash!” said Roger.

  “I wouldn’t say that, kid,” said Loring grimly. “I wouldn’t say that at all.”

  “What do you mean?” demanded Roger.

  “A shame”—Loring shook his head—“young fella like you winding up on the prison asteroid.”

  “Prison asteroid?” asked Roger stupidly.

  “Yeah,” grunted Loring. “Have you ever seen one of them joints, Manning? They work from noon to midnight. Then they give you synthetic food to eat, because it costs too much to haul up solid grub. Once you’ve been on the prison rock, you can’t ever blast off again. You’re washed up as a spaceman. Think you’ll like that?”

  “Why—why—what’s that got to do with me?” asked Roger.

  “Just this, kid. After the investigation they’ll find out your radarscope wasn’t working right. Then they’ll come to me and ask me what happened aboard the Annie Jones.”

  “Well,” demanded Roger, “what did happen?”

  Loring glanced at Mason. “Just this, kid. Jardine and Bangs were on the teleceiver and the radar for fifteen minutes trying to pick up your beam. But there wasn’t any, because you had it fouled up!”

  Roger sat down on the side of the bunk and stared at the two men. If what they said was true, Roger knew there could only be one outcome to the investigation.

  “Why are you telling me this?” asked Roger quietly.

  “Very simple. I don’t like to see anyone go to the prison rock!”

  “Are you”—Roger hesitated—“are you suggesting that I escape?”

  Loring and Mason got up and walked to the door. Loring turned back to face Roger. “I’m not suggesting anything, Manning,” he said. “You’re a big boy and should know what’s good for you. But”—he paused and measured his words carefully—“if I were you, I wouldn’t wait around for Connel or anyone else to blast my life to pieces by sending me to a prison for one little mistake!”