"What!"
Quent Miles looked at Strong and then back at Roger. "You mean this
jerk's going to ride with me?"
Roger Manning squared his shoulders and stuck out his chin. "Let's make
the most of this, Miles," he said. "I don't like it any more than you
do. I wouldn't like to be watched, either, if I had just crawled out
from under a rock."
Strong suppressed a grin and then turned back to Quent. "That's the way
it is, Miles. Commander Walters' orders. There's nothing that can be
done now. Cadets Manning, Corbett, and Astro have been given these
assignments because they have worked so closely on the race project,
and, I might add, you couldn't ask for a better astrogator should you
get into trouble."
"The day I'll ask for help from a kid still wet behind the ears is the
day I'll stop flying," snarled Miles.
Strong shrugged. "You either consent to the regulations, or disqualify
yourself from the race."
The spaceman's face turned a dusky red under his swarthy complexion.
"All right, all right! If that's the way it is, that's the way we'll
play it. But I'm warning you, Manning, stay away from me."
Strong glanced at his wrist chronograph. "You have five minutes before
the blast-off, stand by." He shook hands with Roger. "Good luck, Roger,
and be careful. And remember, Captain Miles has already proved himself a
crackerjack spaceman. Don't interfere with him."
"Yes, sir," said Roger.
"Good luck, Miles," said Strong and offered his hand. Quent ignored it.
"Thanks for nothing," he sneered. "I know how much you want me to have."
"The best man wins," snapped Strong. He turned on his heels and left the
black ship.
Quent Miles and Roger faced each other. "All right, Manning," said Miles
after he had closed the air lock, "take your station. And remember I'm
skipper of this ship."
"So what?" said Roger. "I'm still the monitor--!" He turned and
swaggered away.
Miles watched him go, a crooked smile twisting his lips. "Make the most
of it, Manning," he muttered under his breath.
* * * * *
"You will make two stops for refueling on your trip," Captain Strong
called over the loud-speakers, as well as into the intercom connecting
the three ships. "First fuel stop will be on Deimos of Mars and the
second will be at Ganymede. You are to chart a direct course to each of
them. Should an emergency arise, you will call for assistance on the
special teleceiver and audioceiver circuits open to you, numbers
seventeen and eighty-three. You are to circle each fueling stop three
times before making a touchdown, and make a final circle around Titan
when you arrive.
"Stand by to raise ship! And spaceman's luck!"
Strong turned and flipped on the intercom to the control tower. "All
ready up there?" he called.
"All set, sir," replied the enlisted spaceman.
"All right, give them their orbits and blast-off time."
There was a slight pause, and then the gruff voice of the tower operator
was heard over the loud-speakers and in the ships. "All ships will blast
off on orbit forty-one ... raise ship at 18:51:35 ... stand by!"
There was a tense moment of silence while the seconds on the red hand of
the astral chronometer slipped around the dial. Out on the field, the
three ships were pointed toward the darkening afternoon skies. The first
ship, nearest the tower, was Wild Bill Sticoon's ship, the _Space
Lance_, painted a gleaming white. Strong could see Tom sitting beside
the viewport, and across the distance that separated them, the Solar
Guard officer could see the curly-haired cadet wave. He returned the
greeting.
Next was the black ship with the red markings that had aroused so much
comment. Strong searched the viewports for a sight of Roger but could
not see him. Finally he looked over at Kit Barnard's red-painted _Good
Company_. He knew Astro would be on the power deck, preferring to nurse
the reactor than watch the blast-off.
And then Strong was conscious of the tower operator counting off the
seconds. He would pick it up at ten minus. He gripped the intercom mike
as Mike's voice droned in his ears.
" ... fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten...."
"Stand by to raise ships!" bawled Strong. He watched the sweep hand on
the chronometer. "Blast off, minus five, four, three, two, one--_zero!_"
There was really very little to see. The three ships left Earth in a
giant upheaval of thunderous noise and blazing red exhaust flames. The
roar of the crowds was lost in the explosions of the rockets. And the
greatest race in space was underway.
Strong raced up to the control tower and stood in front of the radar
scanner to watch the course of the three vessels now blasting through
the atmosphere. They were three white blips on the green surface of the
glass scope, in perfect line, traveling at incredible speeds.
Strong turned to the enlisted spaceman. "Contact the ships and see if
everything's all right," he ordered.
"Very well, sir," replied the spaceman, turning to the audioceiver
microphone.
"Spaceport control to rocket ships _Space Lance_, _Space Knight_, and
_Good Company_. Come in, please."
There was a crackling of static over the loud-speaker and then the calm
voice of Tom filled the control tower. "This is Corbett on the _Space
Lance_. Go ahead."
Strong took the microphone. "This is Captain Strong," he called. "How
was your blast-off, Tom?"
"Smooth as silk, sir," replied the young cadet. "Wild Bill sends his
greetings and says he'll take a three-inch steak instead of flowers when
he wins."
"Tell him it's a deal." Strong laughed. "End transmission."
"See you on Titan, sir," said Tom. "End transmission."
Strong then spoke to Kit Barnard on the _Good Company_, but did not get
a chance to speak to Astro. "He's down on the power deck, Steve,"
reported Kit. "He's watching that reactor as if it were a treasure
chest."
"To him it _is_," said Strong. "Good luck, Kit."
"Incidentally," said Kit before signing off, "I heard that crack Wild
Bill made about a steak. Better put _my_ name on it!"
Strong then contacted Quent Miles' vessel. "Is Manning there, Miles?"
"Yeah, he's here. Dead asleep!" growled Miles. "I thought you said he
was going to be a help."
Strong's face grew red. "Well, wake him up," he snapped.
"You come wake him up," said Miles, and then the speaker went dead.
"Control tower to _Space Knight_!" Strong called angrily. "Come in,
Miles. Control tower to _Space Knight_!"
"Yeah. What do you want?" growled Miles over the vast distance of space
that already separated the two men and that each second took them
thousands of miles farther apart.
"I want to speak to Manning," demanded Strong. "And if you cut me off
like that again, Miles, I'll have you before a Solar Guard court for
violation of the space code, race or no race."
"I told you once," said Miles. "Manning is asleep. He sacked in right
after we left the Academy. Now leave me alone, will you! I've got a race
to win!"
"Very well, Miles," said Strong. "But for your sake, I hope Cadet
Manning _is_ asleep."
"End transmission," growled Miles, and again the speaker went dead.
"Trouble, Steve?"
Strong turned to see Commander Walters enter the control room.
"No, sir," said Strong. "I tried to contact Roger, but Quent Miles told
me he's asleep."
"Asleep!" cried Walters. "But I thought you weren't going to put Manning
with Miles."
"Astro wanted to go with Kit, sir. And Tom was anxious to go with Wild
Bill Sticoon. Roger didn't seem to mind."
"Did Miles object?"
"Yes, sir. But I think he would object to anyone going with him."
"And he told you Roger is asleep?"
Strong nodded. Walters pushed past him to the intercom and took the
microphone. "This is Commander Walters calling rocket ship _Space
Knight_. Come in, _Space Knight_."
There was a flutter of static and then Quent Miles' voice again. There
was a little more respect in his tone but his story was the same. Roger
was sleeping.
Walters slammed the microphone down. "By the craters of Luna, this is
the last time I'll take this nonsense from Manning!" He jerked around
and stood facing the viewport. "I'm sorry, Steve, but there have been
more reports from Titan. The situation is serious. I've had to start
evacuation. And then to get this smart-alecky behavior out of Manning.
Well, you know what I mean."
Strong nodded, now more concerned about the emergency on Mars. "Shall I
blast off right away, sir?" he asked.
Walters nodded grimly. "Yes. And I'm going with you. I'll leave Major
Connel in charge while I'm gone. I would prefer to have him go, but he's
been working with Dr. Dale on some new idea about reinforcing the force
field and I can't pull him off it. You and I will have to do what we
can."
Strong turned to the tower operator and ordered the rocket cruiser
_Polaris_ readied for immediate space flight, concluding, " ... and have
a full complement of Space Marines aboard. And I want Warrant Officer
Mike McKenny as squad leader."
"Have you forgotten, sir?" interjected the enlisted spaceman who was
taking Strong's orders. "Warrant Officer McKenny cannot take
acceleration."
"All right, get--" Strong hesitated. "Get me Jeff Marshall, Professor
Sykes' assistant."
Walters nodded. "Good idea. Jeff can take care of any lab tests we may
have to make and also knows how to handle men. As a matter of fact,"
Walters continued, "if Jeff does well on this assignment I might put him
up for a commission in the Solar Guard. He did well on that last trip
into deep space during that trouble on Roald."
"Yes, sir," said Strong. "And I'll gladly endorse it."
"Is that all, sir?" asked the enlisted man.
"That's it, spaceman!" said Strong. When the man didn't move right
away, Walters and Strong looked at him. "Well, what is it?"
"Excuse me, sir," said the guardsman, a bright-faced youngster who had
failed to pass the rigid requirements for cadet training and so had
entered the enlisted Solar Guard. "I heard what Captain Miles said about
Cadet Manning being asleep and--" He hesitated.
"Well, what about it?" prompted Walters.
"Well, sir, I don't know if it means anything or not," replied the boy
nervously. "But just before the ship blasted off, I saw Cadet Manning
standing inside the air lock. He looked as if he wanted to get out. But
you were counting the blast-off time, sir. And he disappeared a few
seconds before you hit zero."
Strong looked at Walters. "Are you sure?" he asked the boy.
"I'm positive, sir. I know Cadet Manning well, and he looked as though
he was scared."
Strong clenched his fists. "Asleep, huh?" he growled. "Get me the _Space
Knight_!"
The boy returned to the audioceiver and began calling Miles, but there
was no reply. After a few minutes Walters interrupted, "We can't waste
any more time here, Steve. We've got to blast off!"
"Get hold of Corbett on the _Space Lance_," said Strong to the spaceman.
"Tell him I said to get in touch with Manning on the _Space Knight_. Ask
him to find out what's going on."
"Yes, sir."
"And then tell him to contact me on the _Polaris_. We're blasting off
immediately."
"Very well, sir."
Walters turned to Captain Strong. "What do you think it means, Steve?"
he asked.
"I can't figure it, sir. Knowing Manning as I do, it could be a crazy
stunt or it could be serious."
"It had better be serious," said Walters grimly, "for Manning's sake.
One more slip, and I'm bouncing him right out of the Academy!"
The two officers left the control tower, leaving young Oliver Muffin
alone, droning his monotonous call to Tom Corbett, somewhere between
Earth and Mars--a call that was to be the young cadet's first warning of
treachery in deep space!
[Illustration]