Major Connel paced nervously in front of the group of spacemen. Tom,
Roger, Astro, Alfie, and Mr. Shinny were lounging around the small
clearing between the _Polaris_ and the _Space Devil_. A piece of thin
space cloth had been stretched between the two ships to shield the men
from the blazing sun. Connel stopped in front of Roger and Shinny.
"And you say the satellite is three-quarters solid copper?" asked
Connel.
"Yes, sir," replied Roger, "at least that's what Loring and Mason told
us."
"Where is it?" asked Connel. "I mean, where exactly?"
"I spotted her coming in, sir," replied Roger. "I'd say she was about
three hundred thousand miles outside of Tara in perfect orbit."
"By the blessed rings of Saturn," exclaimed Connel, "it's almost too
good to be true! The whole Solar Alliance needs copper desperately. And
if what you say is true, that's enough to last for a hundred and fifty
years!"
"Didn't you have any idea they discovered it, sir?" asked Tom. "I mean,
when they took that unauthorized flight on your first trip out here?"
"Didn't suspect a thing, Tom," replied Connel. "I thought they had
gotten a little space rocky on some homemade rocket juice and just went
on a wingding. Imagine the colossal nerve of those two wanting to corner
the market with the largest deposit of copper ever found."
"How do you plan to get it back, Major?" asked Shinny.
"I don't know, Shinny--"
"_Mr._ Shinny!" snapped the wizened spaceman. "_I'm_ not one of your
cadets!"
"Still the hotheaded rocket buster, eh?" asked Connel, eying the
toothless spaceman. "It was the same thing that got you kicked out of
the Solar Guard twenty years ago!"
"Wasn't either! And you know it!" snapped Shinny. "You retired me
because I busted my leg!"
"That helped," said Connel, "but the main reason was because you were
too hotheaded. Couldn't take orders!"
"Well," said Shinny doggedly, "I ain't in no Solar Guard now, and when
you talk to me, it's _Mr._ Shinny!"
"Why, you old goat!" exploded Connel. "I ought to arrest you for aiding
criminals!"
"You can't do a thing to me," barked Shinny. "Prospecting is
prospecting, whether it's in the asteroid belt or out here on Tara!"
Unable to hold back any longer, the four space cadets suddenly roared
with laughter at the sight of the two old space foes jawing at each
other. Actually, Connel and Shinny were glad to see each other. And when
they saw the boys doubled up with laughter, they couldn't help laughing
also. Finally Connel turned to Roger.
"Can you find that satellite again?" he asked.
"Yes, sir!" Roger grinned.
"All right, then," said Connel finally, "let's go take a look at it. I
still won't believe it until I see it!"
"Who's hardheaded now?" snorted Shinny, climbing into the _Polaris_.
Later, as the rocket cruiser blasted smoothly through space, Connel
joined Roger and Alfie on the radar deck. The two cadets were bent over
the radar scanner.
"Pick her up yet?" asked Connel.
"There she is, right there, sir," said Roger, placing a finger on a
circular white blip on the scanner. "But the magnascope shows pretty
rugged country. I think we'd better take a look on the opposite side.
Maybe we can find a better place to touch down."
"Very well, Manning," replied Connel. "Do what you think best. Tell Tom
to land as soon as possible."
"Aye, aye, sir," replied Roger.
Leaving Alfie on watch at the scanner, Roger hurried down the ladder to
the control deck where Tom was seated in front of the great board.
"Tom," called Roger, walking up behind his unit-mate, "we're going to
take a look at this baby on the other side. See if we can't find a
better place to touch down. Stand by to pick up the surface of the
satellite on the teleceiver as soon as we get close enough."
"O.K., Roger," said Tom. "Where are you going?"
"Down to Loring and Mason in the cooler! I want to see their faces when
I tell them they finally are getting where they wanted to go, but under
slightly different circumstances!"
Tom laughed and turned back to the board. "Power deck, check in!"
"Power deck, aye," replied Astro. "When do we set down on the precious
rock, Tom?" asked the Venusian.
"Should be soon, Astro," said Tom. "Better stand by for maneuvering."
"Right!" replied Astro.
Tom turned his full attention to the control board and the teleceiver
screen above his head. He was happier than he had ever been in his life.
The report sent back to Space Academy by Major Connel had been answered
with a commendation to both Roger and Shinny for capturing Loring and
Mason. With Roger back in the unit, Tom was at peace. Even Alfie was
overjoyed at seeing Roger back aboard the _Polaris_.
And Tom had noticed that Major Connel was beginning to call them by
their first names!
"Radar deck to control deck!" said Alfie. "From casual observations,
Tom, the surface of the far side of the satellite is more suitable for a
touchdown. I would suggest you observe the planetoid yourself with the
magnascope and draw your own conclusions."
"O.K.," replied Tom. He switched the teleceiver screen on to the more
powerful magnascope and studied the surface of the small celestial body.
He saw a deep valley with a flat hard surface set between two tall
cliffs. It would be a tricky spot for a landing, but it looked like the
best place available. Tom snapped open the intercom.
"Attention! Attention! Stand by for touchdown. Power deck stand by for
deceleration. Radar bridge stand by for range and altitude checks!"
Sharply, crisply, Tom's orders crackled through the ship.
Working together with the ease and thoroughness of men well acquainted
with their jobs, Astro and Shinny on the power deck, Roger and Alfie on
the radar bridge, and Tom on the control deck handling the delicate
maneuvering, combined to bring the great ship to a safe landing on the
dry valley floor of the satellite.
"Touchdown!" yelled Tom and began securing the ship. Two minutes later
the entire crew faced Major Connel for briefing.
"We'll all go out to different parts of the satellite and make
geological tests," announced Connel. "We'll pair off, two to a jet boat.
Astro and Roger, Alfie and Mr. Shinny, Tom and myself. This is a simple
test." He held up a delicate instrument and a vial full of colorless
liquid. "You simply pour a little of this liquid, about a spoonful, on
the ground, wait about five minutes, and then stick the end of this into
the spot where you poured the liquid." He held up a two-foot steel shaft
a quarter inch in diameter, fastened to a clock-face gauge with numbers
from one to a thousand. The other end of the shaft was needle sharp.
"When you stick this into the ground, there'll be a reading on the
meter. Relay it to me. This way well get an estimate of the amount of
copper in a three-mile area for a depth of a hundred feet. It must be
more than two hundred tons per square mile to make it worth while!"
He held up the testing equipment for all to see and explained its use
once more. Then, giving each team a kit, he ordered them to the jet
boats.
Just before the crew of Earthmen left the _Polaris_, Connel gave them
last-minute instructions.
"Report back to the _Polaris_ in one hour. Make as many tests as you can
over as wide an area as possible. Don't forget to leave one man in the
jet boat while the other is making the test. Keep your audio
communicator in the jet boat on at all times. And be sure your belt
communicator is always open. Check your oxygen supply and space suits.
All clear?"
One by one, the spacemen checked in through the audio communicators that
all was clear. The sliding hatch on the side of the _Polaris_ was
opened, and the jet boats blasted out into the brilliant sunlight of
Alpha Centauri, going in three different directions.
Tom piloted his small craft over the rugged surface of the satellite,
circling the larger peaks and swooping into the small valleys. Connel
would indicate when it was time to stop, and Tom would set the craft
down. While Connel made the tests, Tom would talk to the others over the
audio communicators. The three small ships covered the satellite quickly
in evenly divided sections, reporting their readings on the needlelike
instrument to Connel, who kept recording the reports on a pad at his
knee.
An hour later the boats returned to the _Polaris_ and the Earthmen
assembled in the control room. Connel, Tom, and Alfie were busy reducing
the readings of the tests into recognizable copper ton estimates per
square mile.
Finally Connel turned around, wiped his brow, and faced the others.
"This is one of the greatest discoveries for Earthmen since they learned
how to blast off!" The big officer paused and then held up the results
of the tests. "This satellite is _really_ three-quarters solid copper!"
There was a loud mumble as everyone began talking at once.
"How are we going to get it back home, sir?" asked Tom. "Wouldn't
hauling it back in spaceships cost too much?"
"Yes, it would, Corbett," answered Connel, "but I've got an idea how we
can lick that problem."
"Can't see how you can lick it," snorted Shinny, "unless you take the
whole blasted satellite back!"
"That's exactly what I'm going to do!" answered Connel.
"What?" exclaimed Roger, momentarily forgetting he was addressing a
senior officer. "How in blazes are you going to do that?"
Connel turned to the chart-screen projector and switched it on.
Immediately an image of Earth and its Moon, and much farther away the
sun, was visible. Connel stepped to the screen and pointed to Moon.
"The Moon is a captive satellite of Earth, revolving around Earth the
same way Earth revolves around the sun. It's the same situation we have
here. This satellite is a captive of Tara, and Tara is a captive of
Alpha Centauri. The difference is that the satellite is a peanut
compared in size to the Moon, being only about fifteen miles in
diameter. I'm not sure, but I think I can get enough reactant energy out
of the _Space Devil's_ fuel supply to blast the satellite out of Tara's
grip and send it back to our solar system in one piece!"
"You mean, sir," asked Tom, perplexed, "you'll tear the satellite out of
Tara's gravitational pull?"
"That's right, Tom," replied Connel, "using the same principle to clear
gravity that we use on the _Polaris_ or any spaceship. Enough power from
the rockets will blast the _Polaris_ off Tara. Well, if you can get
enough power, you can blast this satellite out of Tara's grip also,
since the only thing holding it here is the gravity of Tara--the same
thing that holds the Moon in orbit around Earth!"
Astro's eyes bulged. He looked at Connel blankly. "Why, sir," he
stammered, "it'd take--take--a _ton_ of reactant fuel to pull something
that size away from Tara. The _Polaris_ is a kiddy car in comparison!"
"You're right, Astro," said Connel, "but there's one thing you've
forgotten. The copper of the satellite itself. That's going to be the
main source of power. The reactant fuel from the _Space Devil_ will
serve only as a starter, a trigger, you might say, to make use of the
copper as fuel!"
Once again Astro gasped. "Then--then--there isn't anything to stop you,
sir," he finished slowly.
Connel smiled. "I know there isn't. I'm going to contact Space Academy
now for permission to pitch the biggest ball in the history of man!"
[Illustration]