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

by Norton, Andre

  “Power deck to control deck.”

  “Come in, Astro,” said Tom.

  “Almost ready, Tom,” said Astro. “Maximum pressure is eight hundred and we’re up to seven seventy now.”

  “Very well, Astro,” replied Connel. “Let her build all the way to an even eight hundred and blast at my command.”

  “Aye, aye, sir,” said Astro. The mighty pumps on the power deck began their piercing shriek. Higher and higher they built up the pressure, until the ship began to rock under the strain.

  “Stand by, Tom,” ordered Connel, “and if you’ve ever twisted those dials, twist them now!”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Tom.

  “Pressure up to seven ninety-one, sir,” reported Astro.

  “Attention! All members strap into acceleration cushions!”

  One by one, Shinny and Alfie, Loring and Mason, Astro and Roger strapped themselves into the acceleration cushions. Roger set the radar scanner and strapped himself in on the radar bridge. Connel slumped into the second pilot’s chair and took over the controls of the ship, strapping himself in, while Tom beside him did the same. The whine of the pumps was now a shrill whistle that drowned out all other sounds, and the great ship bucked under the force of the thrust building in her heart.

  In front of the power-deck control panel Astro watched the pressure gauge mount steadily.

  “Pressure up to seven ninety-six, sir,” he called.

  “Stand by to fire all rockets!” roared Connel.

  “Make it good, you Venusian clunk,” yelled Roger.

  “Seven ninety-nine, sir!” bellowed Astro.

  Astro watched the gauge of the pressure creep slowly toward the eight-hundred mark. In all his experience he had never seen it above seven hundred. Shinny, too, his merry eyes shining bright, watched the needle jerk back and forth and finally reach the eight-hundred mark.

  “Eight hundred, sir,” bellowed Astro.

  “Fire all stern rockets!” roared Connel.

  Astro threw the switch. On the control board, Connel saw a red light flash on. He jammed the master switch down hard.

  It was the last thing he remembered.

  CHAPTER 21

  Tom stirred. He rolled his head from side to side. His mouth was dry and there was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He opened his eyes and stared at the control panel in front of him. Instinctively he began to check the dials and gauges. He settled on one and waited for his pounding heart to return to normal. His eyes cleared, and the gauge swam into view. He read the figures aloud:

  “Distance in miles since departure—fourteen thousand, five hundred…”

  Something clicked. He let out a yell.

  “We made it! We made it!” He turned and began to pound Connel on the back. “Major Connel! Major, wake up, sir! We made it. We’re in free fall! Junior’s far behind us!”

  “Uh—ah—what—Tom? What?” Connel said, rolling his eyes. In all his experience he had never felt such acceleration. He glanced at the gauge.

  “Distance,” he read, “fifteen thousand miles.” The gauge ticked on.

  “We made it, sir!” said Tom. “Astro gave us a kick in the pants we’ll never forget!”

  Connel grinned at Tom’s excitement. There was reason to be excited. They were free. He turned to the intercom, but before he could speak, Astro’s voice roared into his ears.

  “Report from the power deck, sir,” said Astro. “Acceleration normal. Request permission to open up on hyperdrive.”

  “Permission granted!” said Connel.

  “Look, sir,” said Tom, “on the teleceiver screen. Junior is getting his bumps!”

  Connel glanced up at the screen. One by one the white puffs of dust from the reactor units were exploding on the surface of the planetoid. Soon the whole satellite was covered with the radioactive cloud.

  “I’m sure glad we’re not on that baby now,” whispered Tom.

  “Same here, spaceman!” said Connel.

  * * * *

  It was evening of the first full day after leaving Junior before the routine of the long haul back to Space Academy had begun. The Polaris was on automatic control, and everyone was assembled in the messroom.

  “Well, boys,” said Connel, “our mission is a complete success. I’ve finished making out a report to Space Academy, and everything’s fine. Incidentally, Manning,” he continued, “if you’re worried about having broken your word when you escaped from the space station, forget it. You more than made up for it by your work in helping us get Loring and Mason.”

  Roger smiled gratefully and gulped, “Thank you, sir.”

  Loring and Mason, who had eaten their meal separately from the others, listened silently. Loring got up and faced them. The room became silent.

  Loring flushed.

  “I’d like to say something,” he began haltingly, “if I can?”

  “Go ahead,” said Connel.

  “Well,” said Loring, “it’s hard to say this, but Mason and myself, well—” He paused. “I don’t know what happened to us on the first trip out here, Major, but when we saw that satellite, and the copper, something just went wrong inside. One thing led to another, and before we knew it, we were in so deep we couldn’t get out.”

  The faces around the table were stony, expressionless.

  “Nobody deserves less consideration than me and Mason. And—well, you know yourself, sir, that we were pretty good spacemen at one time. You picked us for the first trip out to Tara with you.”

  Connel nodded.

  “And well, sir, the main thing is about Jardine and Bangs. I know we’re going to be sent to the prison asteroid and we deserve it. But we been thinking, sir, about Jardine’s and Bang’s wives and kids. They musta lost everything in that crash of the Annie Jones, so if the major would recommend that Mason and me be sent to the Titan mines, instead of the rock, we could send our credits back to help take care of the kids and all.”

  No one spoke.

  “That’s all,” said Loring. He and Mason left the room.

  Connel glanced around the table. “Well?” he asked. “This is your first struggle with justice. Each of you, Tom, Roger, Astro, Alfie, will be faced with this sort of thing during your careers as spacemen. What would you do?”

  The four cadets looked at each other, each wondering what the other would say. Finally Connel turned to Alfie.

  “You’re first, Alfie,” said Connel.

  “I’d send them to the mines, sir,” said Alfie.

  Connel’s face was impressive. “Roger?”

  “Same here, sir,” replied Roger.

  “Astro?” asked Connel.

  “I’d do anything to help the kids, sir,” said Astro, an orphan himself.

  “Tom?”

  Tom hesitated. “They deserve the rock, sir. I don’t have any feeling for them. But if they go to the rock, that doesn’t do any more than punish them. If they go to the mines, they’ll be punished and help someone else too. I’d send them to Titan and exile them from Earth forever.”

  Connel studied the cadets a moment. He turned to Shinny.

  “Think they made a good decision, Nick?”

  “I like what young Tommy, here, had to say, Lou,” answered Shinny. “Best part about justice is when the man himself suffers from his own guilty feelings, rather than what you do to him as punishment. I think they did all right!”

  “All right,” said Connel. “I’ll make the recommendation as you have suggested.” Suddenly he turned to Shinny. “What about you in all this, Nick? I don’t mean that you were hooked up with Loring and Mason. I know you were just prospecting and you’ve proved yourself to be a true spaceman. But what will happen to you now?”

  “I’ll tell you what’s going to happen to me,” snapped Shinny. “You’re going to re-enlist me in the Solar Guard, right here! Right now!”

  “What?” exploded Connel.

  “And then you’re going to retire me, right here, right now, with a full pension!”<
br />
  “Why you old space-crawling—” Suddenly he looked around the table and saw the laughing faces of Tom, Roger, Astro, and Alfie.

  “All right,” he said, “but between your enlistment and your retirement, I’m going to make you polish every bit of brass on this space wagon, from the radar mast to the exhaust tubes!”

  Shinny smiled his toothless smile and looked at Tom.

  “Get the logbook, Tommy,” he said. “This is official. I’m going to do something no other man in the entire history of the Solar Guard ever did before!”

  “What’s that, Mr. Shinny?” asked Tom with a smile.

  “Enlist, serve time, and retire with a full pension, all on the same blasted spaceship, the Polaris!”

  NEXT UP: TOM CORBET #3

  (originally published in 1953)

  ON THE TRAIL OF THE SPACE PIRATES

  CHAPTER 1

  “All aboard!”

  A metallic voice rasped over the loud-speakers and echoed through the lofty marble and aluminum concourse of the New Chicago Monorail Terminal. “Atom City express on Track Seven! Space Academy first stop! Passengers for Space Academy will please take seats in the first six cars!”

  As the crowd of people waiting in the concourse surged through the gate leading to Track Seven, three boys in the royal-blue uniforms of the Space Cadet Corps slowly picked up their plastic space bags and joined the mass of travelers.

  Wearily, they drifted with the crowd and stepped on the slidestairs leading down to the monorail platform. In the lead, Tom Corbett, the command cadet of the unit, a tall, curly-haired boy of eighteen, slouched against the handrail and looked back at his two unit-mates, Roger Manning and Astro. Manning, a slender cadet, with close-cropped blond hair, was yawning and blinking his eyes sleepily, while Astro, the third member of the unit, a head taller than either of his unit-mates and fifty pounds heavier, stood flat-footed on the step, eyes closed, his giant bulk swaying slightly with the motion of the slidestairs.

  “Huh! A real snappy unit!” Tom muttered to himself.

  “Hmmm? What?” Roger blinked and stared bleary-eyed at Tom.

  “Nothing, Roger,” Tom replied. “I only hope you guys can stay awake long enough to get on the monorail.”

  “It’s your own fault, Tom,” rumbled Astro in his bull-like voice. “If your family hadn’t thrown so many parties for us while we were on leave, we’d have had more sleep.”

  “I didn’t hear any complaints then,” snorted Tom. “Just get into the car before you cork off, will you? I’m in no shape to carry you.”

  Seconds later, the slidestairs deposited the three boys on the platform and they slowly made their way through the crowd toward the forward cars of the monorail. Entering the third car, they found three seats together and collapsed into their luxurious softness.

  “Oh, brother!” Tom groaned as he curled himself into the cushions, “I’m going to sleep all the way to the Academy.”

  “I’m asleep already,” mumbled Roger, his voice muffled by his cap pulled low over his face.

  Suddenly Astro sat bolt upright. “I’m hungry!” he announced.

  “Oh, no!” moaned Tom.

  “Why, you overgrown Venusian ape, Mrs. Corbett gave you dinner less than an hour ago!” Roger complained. “Steak, French fries, beans, corn, pie, ice cream.…”

  “Two helpings,” chimed in Tom.

  “And now you’re hungry!” Roger was incredulous.

  “Can’t help it,” calmly answered Astro. “I’m a big guy, that’s all.” He began digging through his space bag for an apple Mrs. Corbett had thoughtfully provided.

  Tom finally stirred and sat up. He had learned a long time ago the futility of trying to deny Astro’s Gargantuan appetite. “There’s a dining car on this section of the monorail, Astro,” he said, slapping a crumpled mass of credits into the Venusian’s hamlike hand. “Here. Have yourself a good time.” He slumped back in his seat and closed his eyes.

  “Yeah,” growled Roger, “and when you come back, don’t make any noise!”

  Astro smiled. He got up carefully and climbed over his two sleeping mates. Standing in the aisle, he counted the credits Tom had given him and turned to the front of the car. Suddenly a heavy voice growled behind him.

  “One side, spaceboy!”

  A hand grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him to one side. Caught off balance, Astro fell back on his sleeping unit-mates.

  “Hey! What th—” stuttered Astro as he sprawled on top of his friends. The two sleepy cadets came up howling.

  “Astro! What in blazes do you think you’re doing?” roared Tom.

  “Why, you space-brained idiot,” yelled Roger, “I ought to lay one on your chin!”

  There was a tangle of arms and legs and finally the three cadets struggled to their feet. Astro turned to see who had pushed him.

  Two men standing at the end of the car grinned back at him.

  “It was those two guys at the end of the car,” explained Astro. “They pushed me!” He lumbered toward them, followed by Tom and Roger.

  Stopping squarely in front of them, he demanded, “What’s the big idea?”

  “Go back to your beauty rest, spaceboy!” jeered the heavier of the two men and turned to his companion, adding with a snarl, “How do you like his nerve? We not only have to pay taxes to support these lazy kids and teach them how to be spacemen, but they’re loud-mouthed and sassy on top of it!”

  The other man, smaller and rat-faced, laughed. “Yeah, we oughta report them to their little soldier bosses at Space Academy.”

  Astro suddenly balled his fists and stepped forward, but Tom grabbed his arm and pulled him back while Roger eased himself between his mates and the two grinning men.

  “You know, Tom,” he drawled, looking the heavier of the two right in the eye, “the only thing I don’t like about being a Space Cadet is having to be polite to all the people, including the space crawlers!”

  “Why, you little punk,” sneered the bigger man, “I oughta wipe up the deck with you!”

  Roger smiled thinly. “Don’t try it, mister. You wouldn’t know what hit you!”

  “Come on, Wallace,” said the smaller man. “Leave ‘em alone and let’s go.”

  Astro took another step forward and roared, “Blast off. Both of you!”

  The two men turned quickly and disappeared through the door leading to the next monorail car.

  The three cadets turned and headed back down the aisle to their seats.

  “Let’s get some sleep,” said Tom. “We better be in good shape for that new assignment when we hit the Academy. No telling what it’ll be, where we’ll go, or worse yet, when we’ll blast off. And I, for one, want to have a good night’s rest under my belt.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Roger, settling himself into the cushions once more. “Wonder what the orders will be. Got any ideas, Tom?”

  “No idea at all, Roger,” answered Tom. “The audiogram just said report back to the Academy immediately for assignment.”

  “Hey, Astro!” exclaimed Roger, seeing the Venusian climb back into his seat. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

  “I’m not hungry any more,” grunted Astro. “Those guys made me lose my appetite.”

  Tom looked at Roger and winked. “Maybe we’d better tell Captain Strong about this, Roger.”

  “Why?”

  “Get Astro mad enough and he won’t want to eat. The Academy can cut down on its food bills.”

  “Ah, rocket off, you guys,” growled Astro sleepily.

  Tom and Roger smiled at each other, closed their eyes, and in a moment the three cadets of the Polaris unit were sound asleep.

  Suspended from a single gleaming rail that stretched across the western plains like an endless silver ribbon, the monorail express hurtled through the early dawn speeding its passengers to their destination. As the gleaming line of streamlined cars crossed the newly developed grazing lands that had once been the great American desert, Tom Corbett stirred fr
om a deep sleep. The slanting rays of the morning sun were shining in his eyes. Tom yawned, stretched, and turned to the viewport to watch the scenery flash past. Looming up over the flat grassy plains ahead, he could see a huge bluish mountain range, its many peaks covered with ever-present snow. In a few moments Tom knew the train would rocket through a tunnel and then on the other side, in the center of a deep, wide valley, he would see Space Academy, the university of the planets and headquarters of the great Solar Guard.

  He reached over and shook Roger and Astro, calling, “All right, spacemen, time to hit the deck!”

  “Uh? Ah-ummmh!” groaned Roger.

  “Ahhhoooohhhhhh!” yawned Astro. Standing up, he stretched and touched the top of the monorail car.

  “Let’s get washed before the other passengers wake up,” said Tom, and headed for the morning room. Astro and Roger followed, dragging their feet and rubbing their eyes.

  Five minutes later, as the sleek monorail whistled into the tunnel beneath the mountain range, the boys of the Polaris unit returned to their seats.

  “Back to the old grind,” sighed Roger. “Drills, maneuvers, books, lectures. The same routine, day in day out.”

  “Maybe not,” said Tom. “Remember, the order for us to report back was signed by Commander Walters, not the cadet supervisor of leaves. I think that means something special.”

  Suddenly the monorail roared out of the tunnel and into brilliant early-morning sun again.

  The three cadets turned quickly, their eyes sweeping the valley for the first sight of the shining Tower of Galileo.

  “There it is,” said Tom, pointing toward a towering crystal building reflecting the morning light. “We’ll be there in a minute.”

  Even as Tom spoke, the speed of the monorail slackened as it eased past a few gleaming structures of aluminum and concrete. Presently the white platform of the Academy station drifted past the viewport and all forward motion stopped. The doors opened and the three boys hurried to the exit.

  All around the cadets, men and women in the vari-colored uniforms of the Solar Guard hurried through the station. The green of the Earthworm cadets, first-year students of the Cadet Corps; the brilliant rich blue of the senior cadets like the Polaris unit; the scarlet red of the enlisted Solar Guard; and here and there, the black and gold of the officers of the Solar Guard.