"Stand by to reduce speed three-quarters!" roared Major Connel.
"Aye, aye, sir," replied Tom, and began the necessary adjustments on the
control panel. He spoke into the intercom. "Control deck to power deck.
Stand by to reduce thrust on main drive rockets by three-quarters. We're
coming onto the space station, Astro."
"Power deck, aye," acknowledged Astro.
Drifting in a steady orbit around its mother planet, the Venus space
station loomed ahead of the _Polaris_ like a huge metal ball set against
a backdrop of cold, black space. It was studded with gaping holes, air
locks which served as landing ports for spaceships. Inside the station
was a compact city. Living quarters, communications rooms, repair shops,
weather observations, meteor information, everything to serve the great
fleet of Solar Guard and merchant spaceships plying the space lanes
between Earth, Mars, Venus, and Titan.
"I'm getting the identification request from the station, sir. Shall I
answer her?" asked Roger over the intercom.
"Of course, you space-brained idiot, and make it fast!" exploded Connel.
"What do you want to do? Get us blasted out of space?"
"Yes, sir!" replied Roger. "Right away, sir!"
Tom kept his eyes on the teleceiver screen above his head. The image of
the space station loomed large and clear.
"Approaching a little too fast, I think, sir," volunteered Tom. "Shall I
make the adjustment?"
"What's the range?" asked Connel.
Tom named a figure.
"Ummmmh," mused Connel. He glanced quickly over the dials and then
nodded in assent. Tom turned once more to the intercom. "Control deck to
power deck," he called. "Stand by for maneuvering, Astro, and reduce
your main drive thrust to minimum space speed."
"Space station traffic control to rocket cruiser _Polaris_. Come in,
_Polaris_. This is traffic control on space station to _Polaris_," the
audio teleceiver crackled.
"Rocket cruiser _Polaris_ to space station and traffic control. Request
touchdown permission and landing-port number," replied Tom.
"Permission to touch down granted, _Polaris_. You are to line up on
approach to landing-port seven--repeat--seven. Am now sending out
guiding radar beam. Can you read beam?"
Tom turned to the intercom. "Have you got the station's guiding beam,
Roger?"
"All lined up, Tom," replied Roger from the radar bridge. "Get that
Venusian on the power deck to give me a three-second shot on the
starboard rocket, if he can find the right handles!"
"I heard that, Manning!" roared Astro's voice on the intercom. "Another
crack like that and I'll make you get out and push this baby around!"
"_You execute that order and do it blasted quick!_" Major Connel's voice
exploded over the intercom. "And watch that loose talk on the ship's
intercom. From now on, all directions and orders will be given and
received in a crisp, clear manner without unnecessary familiarity!"
Connel didn't expect them to acknowledge his order. The cadets had heard
him and that was enough. He knew it was enough. In the short time it had
taken them to traverse the immense gulf of space between the Academy and
the station Connel had handed out demerits by fives and tens! Each of
the cadets was now tagged with enough black marks to spend two months in
the galley working them off!
Now, working together like the smooth team of junior spacemen they were,
Tom, Roger, and Astro maneuvered the great rocket ship toward the gaping
hole of the air lock in the side of the white ball-like satellite.
"Drop your bow one half degree, _Polaris_, you're up too high," warned
the station control.
"A short burst on the upper trim rocket, Astro," called Tom.
The great ship bucked slightly under the force of sudden thrust, and
then its nose dropped the required half degree.
"Cut all thrust and brake your speed to dead ship, _Polaris_," ordered
traffic control.
Again Tom relayed the order to Astro, and a moment later the great ship
hung silently in the airless void of space, a scant half mile from the
station.
[Illustration: _The junior spaceman maneuvered the great rocket ship
toward the air lock_]
Through the teleceiver Tom could see the jet boats darting out from the
station carrying the magnetic cables. In a moment the lines were
attached to the steel skin of the ship, and gradually the lines
tightened, pulling the mighty spaceship into the waiting port. Once
inside, the outer air lock was closed and the _Polaris_ was slung in the
powerful magnetic cradles that held her in a rigid position. Elsewhere
on the satellite, quick calculations were made for the additional
weight, and the station was counterbalanced to assure an even orbit
around Venus.
Tom flicked the many switches off on the great board, glanced at the
time of arrival on the solar clock, and reported to Major Connel.
"Touchdown at one-nine-four-nine, sir."
"Very well, Corbett," answered Connel. Then he added grudgingly, "That
was as fine a job of control-deck operations as I've seen. Keep up the
good work, spaceman."
Tom gulped. The unexpected compliment caught him off guard. And he was
even more pleased that for the first time Connel had referred to him as
spaceman!
"I'll be needed at the space station commander's quarters for a while,
Corbett," said Connel. "Meanwhile, you and Manning and Astro acquaint
yourselves with the station. Report to me back aboard the ship in
exactly two hours. Dismissed."
Tom saluted, and Connel disappeared toward the exit port.
"Well, _spaceman_," Roger drawled casually from behind, "it looks like
you've got yourself in solid with the old man!"
Tom smiled. "With a guy like that, Roger, you're never in solid. Maybe I
did get a pat on the back, but you didn't hear him cancel any of those
demerits he gave me for not signing the logbook after that last watch,
did you?"
"Let's get some chow," growled Astro, who came hustling through the
hatch. "I'm half starved. By the craters of Luna, how many times can you
change course in five minutes?"
Astro referred to the countless times Tom had had to call for
fraction-degree course changes in their approach to the gaping entrance
port.
Tom laughed. "With Connel on the bridge, you're lucky I didn't give you
twice as many," he replied. "Can you imagine what would have happened if
we had missed and hit the station?"
"Brrrrrr!" shuddered Roger. "I hate to think about it. Come on. Let's
rustle up some grub for the Venusian. I could use some myself."
The three boys quickly changed to their dress blue cadet uniforms and
left the ship. A moment later they were being whisked up an electric
elevator to the main--or "street"--level. The door opened, and they
stepped out into a large circular area about the size of a city block in
the rear of the station. The area had been broken into smaller sections.
One side of the "street" was devoted to shops, a small stereo house
which was playing the latest Liddy Tamal hit, "Children of Space" (a
sensational drama about the lives of men in the future), restaurants,
and even a curio shop. The Venus space station handled ninety per cent
of the traffic into and out of Venusport. It was a refueling stop for
the jet liners and space freighters bound for the outer planets, and for
those returning to Earth. Some ships went directly to Venusport for
heavy overhaul or supplies, but the station was established primarily
for quick turn arounds. Several ex-enlisted spacemen who had been
injured or retired were given special permission to open shops for the
convenience of the passengers and crews of the ships and the staff of
the station. In twenty years the station had become a place where summer
tourists from Earth and winter tourists from Titan made a point of
stopping. The first of its kind in the universe, it was as near a
perfect place to live as could be built by man.
Tom, Roger, and Astro strolled down the short street, pushing through a
crowd of tourists admiring the shops. Finally they found a restaurant
that specialized in Venusian dishes.
"Now you two spindly Earthmen are going to have the best meal of your
lives! Broiled dinosaur on real Venusian black bread!"
"D-dinosaur!" stuttered Tom in amazement. "Why--why--that's a
prehistoric monster!"
"Yeah, Astro," agreed Roger. "What are you trying to hand us?"
Astro laughed. "You'll see, fellows," he replied. "I used to go hunting
for them when I was a kid. Brought the best price of any wild game.
Fifty credits for babies under three hundred pounds. Over that, you
can't eat 'em. Too tough!"
Tom and Roger looked at each other, eyes bulging.
"Ah, come on, Tom," drawled Roger. "He's just trying to pull our leg."
Without a word, Astro grabbed them by the arms and rushed them into the
restaurant. They were no sooner seated when a recorded voice announced
the menu over a small loud-speaker on the table. Astro promptly ordered
dinosaur, and to his unit-mates' amazement, the voice politely inquired:
"Would the spacemen prefer to have it broiled a la Venusian black bread,
baked, or raw?"
A sharp look from Roger and Tom, and Astro ordered it broiled.
One hour and fifteen minutes later the three members of the _Polaris_
unit staggered out of the restaurant.
"By the rings of Saturn," declared Tom, "that wasn't only the most I
ever ate--it was the best!"
Roger nodded in silent agreement, leaning against the plastic window in
front of the restaurant.
"You see," Astro beamed, "maybe you guys will listen to me from now on!"
"Boy, I can't wait to see Mom's face when I tell her that her chicken
and dumplings have taken second place to broiled monster!"
"By the jumping blazes of the stars!" yelled Roger suddenly. "Look at
the time! We're ten minutes late!"
"Ohhhhh," moaned Tom. "I knew it was too good to be true!"
"Step on it!" said Astro. "Maybe he won't notice."
"Some chance," groaned Roger, running after Tom and Astro. "That old
rocket head wouldn't miss anything!"
The three boys raced back to the electric elevator and were silently
whisked to the air-lock level. They hurried aboard the _Polaris_ and
into the control room. Major Connel was seated in a chair near the chart
screen, studying some papers. The cadets drew themselves to attention.
"Unit reporting for duty, sir," Tom quavered.
Connel spun around in the swivel chair, glanced at the clock, put the
papers to one side, and slowly advanced toward the cadets.
"Thirteen and a half minutes late!" he said, dropping his voice to a
biting growl. "I'll give you five seconds to think up a good excuse.
Every man is entitled to an excuse. Some have good ones, some have
truthful ones, and some have excuses that sound as though they made them
up in five seconds!"
He eyed the cadets speculatively. "Well?" he demanded.
"I'm afraid we were carried away by our enthusiasm for a meal Astro
introduced us to, sir," said Tom honestly.
"All right," snapped Connel, "then here's something else to carry you
all away!" He paused and rocked on the balls of his feet. "I had planned
to give you three liberty of the station while here, whenever you
weren't working on the new transmitter. But since you have shown
yourselves to be carried away so easily, I don't think I can depend on
your completing your regular duties. Therefore, I suggest that each of
you report to the officer in charge of your respective departments and
learn the operation and function of the station while we're here. This
work will be _in addition_ to your assigned duties on the new
transmitter operation!"
The three cadets gulped but were silent.
"Not only that," Connel's voice had risen to an angry bark, "but you
will be logged a demerit apiece for each minute you reported late.
Thirteen and a half minutes, thirteen and a half demerits!"
The gold and black of the Solar Guard uniform never looked more ominous
as the three cadets watched the stern spaceman turn and stomp out the
exit port.
Alone, their liberty taken away from them before they even knew they had
it, the boys sat around on the control deck of the silent ship and
listened to the distant throb of a pump, rising and falling, pumping
free air throughout the station.
"Well," sighed Tom, "I always did want to know how a space station
worked. Now I guess I'll learn firsthand."
"Me, too," said Astro. He propped his big feet up on a delicate
instrument panel of the control board.
"Me, too!" sneered Roger, his voice filled with a bitterness that
surprised Tom and Astro. "But I didn't think I would find out like this!
How in the universe has that--that tyrant managed to stay alive this
long!"