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

by Norton, Andre

  Staying in the shadows, he walked down the lane, moving carefully. The plastic helmet would keep him from being recognized right away, but to complete his plan, he needed one of the green uniforms of the guards.

  Deciding it would be too risky to walk around the base, he crouched behind a huge crate of machinery at the head of the lane. Sentries were constantly patrolling the area and he was certain that one would pass by soon. He only hoped the man would be big enough. Fifteen minutes later the cadet heard footsteps in a slow measured tread. He peered around the edge of the crate and silently breathed a thankful prayer. It was a green-clad guard, and luckily, almost as big as he was.

  Crouching in the shadow of the crate, Astro tensed for the attack. It had to be quick and it had to be silent. He couldn’t club the guard because of his helmet. He would have to get him around the throat to choke off any outcry.

  The slow steps came nearer and the big cadet raised himself on the balls of his feet, ready to spring. When the guard’s shadow fell across him, Astro leaped forward like a striking tiger.

  The guard didn’t have a chance. Astro’s arm coiled around his throat and the cry of alarm that welled up within him died down in a choking gasp. Within seconds he was unconscious and the big cadet had dragged him behind the crate. He stripped him of his uniform, bound and gagged him with his own rags, and crammed him into the crate. Then, protected by the helmet and green uniform and carrying the blaster, the cadet stepped out confidently and strode down the lane.

  He went directly to the building he had seen Tom and Connel enter, and walked boldly up to the guard lounging in front of the door.

  “You’re relieved,” said Astro in the Venusian dialect. “They want you up in the caves.” The cadet had no idea where the caves were, but he knew that they couldn’t be near by and it would be some time before an alarm could be sounded.

  “The caves?” asked the guard. “Who said so?”

  “The chief. He wants you to identify somebody.”

  “Me? Identify someone? I don’t understand.” The guard was puzzled. “What section of the caves?”

  “The new section,” said Astro quickly, figuring there must be a new and an old section because he had heard a guard refer to the old one.

  “Up by the jungle tunnels?”

  Astro nodded.

  “Must be more of those Solar Guardsmen,” said the guard, relaxing. “We have two of them in here, another in the hospital, and one of them working in the machine shop.”

  Hospital! Astro gulped. That would be Roger. But he dared not ask too many questions. “What’s going to happen to them?” he asked casually.

  “I don’t know,” said the guard, “but I wish we’d hurry up and attack Venusport. I’m getting tired of living out here in the jungle.”

  “Me too,” said Astro. “Well, you’d better get going.”

  The guard nodded and started to walk away. Suddenly Astro stiffened. Two other guards were rounding the corner of the building. He called to the departing guard quickly. “Who’s on duty with you tonight?”

  “Maron and Teril,” replied the guard, and then strode off into the darkness.

  “So long,” said Astro, turning to face the two men walking toward him. He would have to get rid of them.

  “Hello, Maron, Teril,” he called casually. “Everything quiet?”

  “Yes,” replied the shorter of the two, as they stopped in front of Astro, “no trouble tonight.”

  “Well, there’s trouble now!” growled Astro. He brought up the blaster and cocked it. “Make one wrong move, and you’re dead little space birds! Get over there and open that door!”

  Stunned, both men turned to the door without a protest and Astro took their guns. “Open up!” he growled.

  The men slid the heavy bar back and pushed the door open.

  “Get inside!” ordered Astro. The two men stumbled inside. Astro stepped to the door. “Tom! Major!”

  There was a cry of joy from the blackness within and Astro recognized Tom.

  “Astro!” roared Connel, rushing up. “What in the stars—?”

  “Can’t talk now,” said Astro. “Here. Take these blasters and then tie these two up. Close the door, but leave it open a crack. We can talk while I stay outside and keep watch. If there isn’t a guard out here, it might mean trouble.”

  “Right,” said Connel. He took the blasters, tossing one over to Tom. “Blast it, I never felt anything so good in my life!” He closed the door, leaving it open an inch.

  “Why is Roger in the hospital?” asked Astro quickly.

  Connel told him of the fight with the tyrannosaurus and Roger’s injury, ending with their capture by the patrol.

  “You know what’s going on here, Major?” asked Astro.

  “I sure do,” said Connel. “And the sooner we blast them, the happier I’ll be.”

  “One of us will have to escape and get back to the Polaris to contact Commander Walters,” said Astro. “But they’ve got radar here as good as ours. That has to be put out of commission or they can blast any attacking fleet.”

  “You’re right,” said Connel grimly, and turned back into the room. “Tom!” he called.

  “Yes, sir,” replied Tom, coming up to the door.

  “Since Astro and I speak Venusian—” said Connel, and then added when Tom gasped, “Yes, I speak it fluently, but I kept it a secret. That means you’re the one to go. Astro and I will have more of a chance here. You escape and return to the Polaris. Contact Commander Walters. Tell him everything that’s happened. We’ll give you thirty-six hours to make it. At exactly noon, day after tomorrow, we’ll knock out their radar.”

  “But how, sir?” asked Tom.

  “Never mind. We’ll figure out something. Just get back to the Polaris and tell the Solar Guard to attack at noon, day after tomorrow. If you don’t and the fleet attacks earlier, or later, they’ll be wiped out.”

  “What about you, sir?” asked Tom.

  “If you get back in time, we’ll be all right. If not, then this is good-by. We’ll hold out as long as we can, but that can’t be forever. We’re fighting smart, determined men, Tom. And it’s a fight to the finish. Now hurry up and get into one of those uniforms.”

  While Tom turned back inside to put on the uniform, Connel returned to Astro outside the door. “Think we can do it, Astro?”

  “I don’t see why not, sir,” replied the big cadet.

  A moment later Tom returned, dressed in one of the guard’s green uniform and wearing a helmet. Carson was with him, similarly clad. “Astro better show me the way out of the base,” said Tom. “Carson will stand guard until he gets back.”

  “Good idea,” said Connel. Tom and Carson slipped out the door.

  “All set, Astro?” asked Tom.

  “Yeah, there’s only one thing wrong,” replied the big cadet.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Connel.

  “I don’t know the way out of the base.”

  CHAPTER 15

  “I can tell you the way out of the base.”

  Adjusting the plastic helmet over his head, Carson stepped up close to Astro and Tom and spoke confidently. “It’s very simple.”

  “Whew!” exclaimed Tom. “I thought we’d have to go fumbling around.”

  Carson pointed through the darkness. “Follow this lane straight down until you come to a large repair lock. There’s a space freighter on the maintenance cradle outside. You can’t miss it. Turn left and follow a trail to the base of the canyon wall. There are jungle creepers and vines growing up the side and you can climb them easily.”

  Tom nodded and repeated the directions, then turned to Astro. “Maybe you’d better stay here, Astro. I can make it alone.”

  “No.” Connel spoke sharply from the doorway. “Astro speaks Venusian. If you’re stopped, he can speak for you. You’d give yourself away.”

  “Very well, sir,” said Tom. “I guess that is best. Ready to go, Astro?”

  “Ready,” r
eplied the big cadet.

  “Good-by, Major,” said Tom, reaching into the doorway to shake hands with Connel. “I’ll try my best.”

  “It’s a matter of life and death, Tom.” Connel’s voice was low and husky. “Not our lives, or the lives of a few people, but the life and death of the Solar Alliance.”

  “I understand, sir.” Tom turned to Astro and the two cadets marched off quickly.

  They had no difficulty finding the giant ship on the cradles outside the repair shop and quickly turned toward the base of the cliff. Twenty minutes later they had left the center of activity and were close to the canyon wall. They were congratulating themselves on their luck in not being stopped or questioned when suddenly they saw a guard ahead of them on sentry duty.

  “Ill take care of him,” whispered Astro. “You hide here in the shadows, and when I whistle, you start climbing. Then I’ll cover you from there until you get to the top. Got it?”

  “Right!” The two cadets shook hands briefly. Each knew that there was no need to speak of their feelings. “Take care of Roger,” said Tom. “We don’t know how badly he’s been injured.”

  “I’ll see to him,” said Astro. “Watch me now and wait for my whistle.” He turned away and then paused to call back softly, “Spaceman’s luck, Tom.”

  “Same to you, Astro,” replied Tom, and then crouched tensely in the shadows.

  The big cadet walked casually toward the sentry, who spotted him immediately and brought his gun up sharply, calling a challenge in the Venusian tongue.

  “A friend,” replied Astro in the same dialect.

  The sentry lowered the gun slightly. “What are you doing out here?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Just taking a walk,” said Astro. “Looking for something.”

  “What?” asked the sentry.

  “Trying to make a connection.”

  “A connection? What kind of connection?”

  “This kind!” said Astro suddenly, chopping the side of his hand down on the sentry’s neck, between the helmet and his uniform collar.

  The sentry fell to the ground like a poleaxed steer and lay still. Astro grinned, then turned and went whistling off into the darkness. Twenty feet away Tom heard the signal and hurried to the base of the cliff. He grabbed a thick vine and pulled himself upward, hand over hand. Halfway up he found a small ledge and stopped to rest. Below him, he could see Astro hurrying back toward the center of the base. The dim lights and the distant hum of activity assured him that so far his escape was unnoticed. He resumed his climb, and fifteen minutes later the curly-haired cadet stood on the canyon rim. After another short rest he turned and plunged into the jungle.

  Tom knew that as long as he kept the planet of Earth over his right shoulder, while keeping the distant star of Regulus ahead of him, he was traveling in the right direction to Sinclair’s plantation. He stopped to check his bearings often, occasionally having to climb a tree to see over the top of the jungle. He ignored the threat of an attack by a jungle beast. For some reason it did not present the danger it had when he had first entered the jungle, seemingly years before. Under pressure, the cadet had become skilled in jungle lore and moved with amazing speed. He kept the blaster ready to fire at the slightest movement, but fortunately during the first night he encountered nothing more dangerous than a few furry deerlike animals that scampered behind him off the trail.

  Morning broke across the jungle in a sudden burst of sunlight. The air was clear and surprisingly cool, and Tom felt that he could make the Sinclair plantation by nightfall if he continued pushing full speed ahead.

  He stopped once for a quick meal of the last of the synthetics that he had stuffed in his pocket from his shoulder pack, and then continued in a steady, ground-eating pace through the jungle. Late in the afternoon he began to recognize signs of recent trail blazing, and once he cut across the path Astro had made. He wondered if the trail was one Astro had cut while he was lost, or previously. He finally decided to go ahead on his own, since he had managed to come this far without the aid of any guide markers.

  As the darkening shadows of night began to spread over the jungle the young cadet began to worry. He had been allowed thirty-six hours to make it back to the Polaris, communicate with Commander Walters, and tell him the position of the base, and Tom had to allow time for the Solar Guard fleet to assemble and blast off, so that it would arrive at the base at exactly noon on the next day. He had to reach the Sinclair plantation before nightfall or the fleet would never make it.

  Suddenly to his left he heard a noisy crashing of underbrush and the roar of a large beast. Tom hesitated. He could hide; he could fight; or he could break to his right and try to escape. The beast growled menacingly. It had picked up his scent. Tom was sure it was a large beast on the prowl for food, and he decided that he could not waste time hiding, or risk being injured in a battle with the jungle prowler. He quickly broke to his right and raced through the jungle. Behind him, the beast picked up the chase, the ground trembling with its approach. It began to gain on him. Tom was suddenly conscious of having lost his bearings. He might be running away from the clearing!

  Still he ran on, legs aching and lungs burning. He charged through the underbrush that threatened any moment to trip him. When he was almost at the point of complete exhaustion, and ready to turn and face the beast behind him, he saw something that renewed his spirit and sent new strength through his body. Ahead through the vines and creepers, the slender nose of the Polaris was outlined against the twilight sky.

  Disregarding the beast behind him, he plunged through the last few feet of jungle undergrowth and raced into the clearing around the Sinclair home. Behind him, the beast suddenly stopped growling, and when Tom reached the air lock of the Polaris, he saw that the beast had turned back, reluctant to come out of the protection of the jungle.

  Tom pulled the air-lock port open and was about to step inside when he heard a harsh voice coming from the shadow of the port stabilizer.

  “Just stop right where you are!”

  Tom jerked around. Rex Sinclair stepped out of the shadow, a paralo-ray gun in his hand.

  “Mr. Sinclair!” cried Tom, suddenly relieved. “Boy, am I glad to see you!” He jumped to the ground. “Don’t you recognize me? Cadet Corbett!”

  “Yes, I recognize you,” snarled Sinclair. “Get away from that air lock or I’ll blast you!”

  Tom’s face expressed the confusion he felt. “But, Mr. Sinclair, you’re making a mistake. I’ve got to get aboard and warn—” He stopped. “What’s the idea of holding a paralo ray on me?”

  “You’re not warning anybody!” Sinclair waved the gun menacingly. “Now get over to the house and walk slowly with your hands in the air or I’ll freeze you solid!”

  Stunned by this sudden turn of events, Tom turned away from the air lock. “So you’re one of them, too,” said Tom. “No wonder we were caught in the jungle. You knew we were looking for the base.”

  “Never mind that,” snapped Sinclair. “Get into the house and make it quick!”

  The young cadet walked slowly toward the house. He saw the charred remains of the burned outbuildings and nodded. “So it was all an act, eh? You had your buildings burned to throw us off the track. Small price to pay to remain in the confidence of the Solar Guard.”

  “Shut up!” growled Sinclair.

  “You might be able to shut me up, but it’ll take a lot more than a bunch of rabble rousers to shut up the Solar Guard!”

  “We’ll see,” snapped Sinclair.

  They reached the house and Tom climbed the steps slowly, hoping the planter would come close enough for a sudden attack, but he was too careful. They moved into the living room and Tom stopped in surprise. George Hill and his wife were tied hand and foot to two straight-backed chairs.

  Tom gasped. “George! Mrs. Hill!”

  George Hill strained against his bonds and mumbled something through the gag in his mouth, but Tom couldn’t understand what he was trying to sa
y. Mrs. Hill just looked at the planter with wide, frightened eyes. The cadet whirled around angrily. “Why, you dirty little space rat!”

  Sinclair didn’t hesitate. He squeezed the trigger of his paralo-ray gun and Tom stiffened into rigidity.

  The planter dropped the ray gun into a chair and leisurely began to tie the hands and feet of the immobilized cadet.

  “Since you can hear me, Corbett,” said Sinclair, “and since you are powerless to do anything about what I’m about to tell you, I’m going to give you a full explanation. I owe it to you. You’ve really worked for it.”

  Unable to move a muscle, Tom nevertheless could hear the planter clearly. He mentally chided himself at his stupidity in allowing himself to be captured so easily.

  Sinclair continued, “My original invitation to you and your friends, to use my home as a base for your hunting operations was sincere. I had no idea you were in any way connected with the investigation the Solar Guard was planning to make into the Nationalist movement.”

  Tom was completely bound now, and the planter stepped back, picked up the ray gun, and flipping on the neutralizer, released the cadet from the effects of the ray charge. Tom shuddered involuntarily, his nerves and muscles quivering as life suddenly flowed into them again. He twisted at the bonds on his wrists, and to his amazement found them slightly loose. He was sure he could work his hands free, but decided to wait for a better opportunity. He glanced at the clock on the wall near by and saw that it was nine in the evening. Only fifteen hours before the Solar Guard must attack!

  Sinclair sat down casually in a chair and faced the cadet. George and Mrs. Hill had stopped struggling and were watching their employer.

  “Do you know anything about the bomb we found on the Polaris on our trip to Venus?” asked Tom.

  “I planned that little surprise myself, Corbett,” said Sinclair. “Unfortunately our agents on Earth bungled it.”