"Well, fellows," said Tom, stifling a yawn, "it looks like we did it.
But I could use some more sleep. That five hours was just enough to get
started on!"
"Yeah," agreed Roger sourly, "but where does this Venusian lummox get
off grabbing all the credit." He looked at Astro. "If I hadn't built the
fuses for your little firecrackers--"
"_Firecrackers!_" yelped Astro. "Why, you skinny space fake! If I hadn't
built those nuclear reactors, _you_ wouldn't have anything to set off!"
Connel appeared in the small messroom of the _Polaris_, his hands full
of papers and drawings. "When you've finished congratulating each other,
I'd like to say a few things!" he snapped.
"Congratulate _him_?" exclaimed Roger. "Skipper, his head's so thick,
the noise on the power deck can't even reach his eardrums!"
"Just one more word, Manning," growled Astro, "and I'll take a deep
breath and blow you away!"
"_One more word out of either of you_," roared Connel, "and I'll throw
you both in the brig with Mason and Loring!"
Suddenly he glared at the five spacemen. "Who's on prisoner watch
today?" he asked.
The four cadets and Mr. Shinny looked at each other then at Roger.
"Uhhh--I am, sir," Roger confessed.
"I had a sneaking suspicion you would be!" said Connel. "Cadet Manning,
one of the first things an officer of the Solar Guard learns is to care
for the needs of his men and prisoners before himself. Did you know
that, Cadet Manning?"
"Uhhh--yes, sir. I was just going to--" mumbled Roger.
"Then go below and see that Mason and Loring get their rations!"
"Yes, sir," said Roger. He got up and collected a tray of food.
"All of you report to the control deck in five minutes for briefing,"
said Connel and followed Roger out of the door.
"How do you like that?" said Astro. "We break our backs for the guy and
we're no sooner finished then he starts the old routine again!"
"That has nothing to do with it, Astro," said Tom. "Put yourself in his
position. We've only got one or two things to think about. He's
responsible for it all."
"Just like he was when I sailed with him twenty-five years ago," said
Shinny. He swallowed the remains of his tea and reached for a plug of
tobacco. "He's all spaceman from the top of his head to the bottom of
his space boots."
"I'm rather inclined to agree with you, Tom," said Alfie mildly.
"Leadership carries with it the greatest of all burdens--responsibility
for other peoples' lives. You, Corbett, as a control-deck cadet, would
do well to mark Major Connel's pattern of behavior."
"Listen," growled Astro, "if Tom ever turned out to be a rocket buster
like Connel--I'd--I'd--"
"Don't worry, Astro," Tom said, laughing. "I don't think there'll be
another Major Connel in a million light years!"
Shinny laughed silently, his small frame shaking slightly. "Say it
again, Tommy. Not in the whole universe will there ever be another like
old 'Blast-off' Connel!"
On the deck below the messroom, Roger, balancing a tray carefully on one
hand, opened the electronic lock of the brig and then stepped back
quickly, leveling a paralo-ray gun.
"All right, Mason, Loring," he yelled, "come and get it!" The door slid
open, and Loring stuck his head out. "Any funny business," Roger warned,
"and I'll stiffen you so fast, you won't know what hit you!"
"It's about time you showed up!" growled Loring. "Whaddaya trying to do,
starve us to death?"
"That's not a bad idea!" said Roger. Loring took the tray. Roger
motioned him back inside the brig and slammed the door shut. He locked
it and leaned against the grille.
"Better eat it while you can," he said. "They don't serve it so fancy on
a prison asteroid."
"You'll never get us on a prison asteroid," whined Mason.
"Don't kid yourself," said Roger. "As soon as we get the reactor units
set, we're going to send this hunk of copper back to Earth and then take
you back. They'll bury you!"
"Who's going to do all that?" snapped Loring. "A bunch of punk kids and
a loudmouthed Solar Guard officer?"
"Yeah," retorted Roger.
"_Cadet Manning!_" Connel's voice roared over the intercom. "You were
ordered to report to the control deck in five minutes! You are already
one minute late! Report to the control deck on the double and _I mean
double!_"
Loring and Mason laughed. "Old 'Blast-off' Connel's really got your
number, eh, kid?"
"Ah, rocket off, you pinheaded piece of space junk! It didn't take him
long to dampen _your_ tubes!"
Connel roared again. "_Blast your hide, Manning, report!_"
"Better raise ship, Manning," said Loring, "you might get another nasty
demerit!"
Roger turned away and raced to the control deck. He entered breathlessly
and stood beside his unit-mates while Connel eyed him coldly.
"Thank you, Cadet Manning," said Connel. "We appreciate your being
here!"
"Yes, sir," mumbled Roger.
"All right," barked Connel, "you know your assignments. We'll take the
jet boats as before and go out in pairs. Tom and myself, Astro and
Roger, and Shinny and Alfie. We'll set up the reaction charges on Junior
at the points marked on the chart screen here." He indicated the chart
on the projection. "Copy them down on your own charts. Each team will
take three of the reaction units. My team will set up at points one,
two, and three. Astro and Roger at four, five, and six. Alfie and Shinny
at seven, eight, and nine. After you've set up the charges, attach the
triggers for the fuses and return to the ship. Watch your timing! If we
fail, it'll be more than a year before Junior will be in the same
orbital position again. How much time do we have left, Corbett?"
Tom glanced at the clock. "Exactly two hours, sir," he said.
"Not much," said Connel, "but enough. It shouldn't take more than an
hour and a half to set up the units and get back to the ship to blast
off. All clear? Any questions?"
There were no questions.
"All right," said the officer, "put on your space gear and move out!"
Handling the lead-encased charges carefully, the six spacemen loaded the
jet boats and, one by one, blasted off from the _Polaris_ to positions
marked on the map.
Working rapidly, each of the teams of two moved from one position to
another on the surface of the desolate satellite. Connel, referring
constantly to his watch, counted the minutes as one by one the teams
reported the installation of a reactor unit.
"This is Shinny. Just finished installing reaction charge one at point
seven ..."
"This is Manning. Just finished installing reaction charge at point four
..."
One after the other, the teams reported. Connel, with Tom piloting the
jet boat, finished setting up their units at points one, two, and three
and headed back to the _Polaris_.
"How much time, sir?" asked Tom as he slowed the small craft for a
landing.
"Less than a half hour, Corbett," said Connel nervously. "I'd better
check on Shinny and Alfie." He called into the audiophone. "Major Connel
to Shinny and Higgins, come in Shinny--Higgins!"
"Shinny here!" came the reply. "We're just finishing up the last unit.
Should be back in five minutes."
"Make it snappy!" said Connel. "Less than a half hour left!"
"We'll make it," snorted Shinny.
"Coming in for a touchdown," said Tom. "Better strap in, sir!"
Connel nodded. He laced several straps across his lap and chest,
gripping the sides of the seat. Tom sent the jet boat in a swooping
dive, cut the acceleration, and brought the small ship smoothly inside
the huge air lock in the side of the _Polaris_.
"I'd better get right up on the control deck and start warming up the
circuits, sir," said Tom.
"Good idea, Tom," said Connel. "I'll try and pick up Manning and Astro."
Tom left the officer huddling over the communicator in the jet boat.
"Major Connel to Manning and Astro, come in!" called Connel. He waited
for a moment and then repeated. "Manning--Astro, come in! By the rings
of Saturn, come in!" There was the loud roar of an approaching jet boat.
Shinny guided the ship into the _Polaris_ with a quick violent blast of
the braking rockets. The noise was deafening.
"Belay that noise, you blasted space-brained idiot!" roared Connel. "Cut
that acceleration!"
Shinny grinned and cut the rockets. The jet-boat catapult deck was
quiet, and Connel turned back to the communicator.
"Come in, Manning--Astro! This is Major Connel. Come in!"
On the opposite side of the airless satellite, Roger and Astro were busy
digging a hole in the hard surface. Near by lay the last of the
explosive units to be installed. Connel's voice thundered through their
headset phones.
"Boy, is he blasting his jets!" commented Roger.
"Yeah," grunted Astro. "He should have to dig this blasted hole!"
"Well, this is where it's got to go. If the ground is hard, then it's
our tough luck," said Roger. "If we stick it anywhere else, it might
mess up the whole operation."
Astro nodded and continued to dig. He held a small spade and jabbed at
the ground. "How much--time--have we got left?" he gasped.
"Twenty minutes," replied Roger. "You'd better hurry."
"Finished now," said Astro. "Get the reactor unit over here and set the
fuse."
Roger picked up the heavy lead box and placed it gently inside the hole.
"Remember," Astro cautioned, "set the fuse for two hours."
"No, you're wrong," replied Roger. "I've set the fuses each time,
subtracting the amount of time since we left the _Polaris_. I set this
one for twenty minutes."
"You're wrong, Roger," said Astro. "It's maximum time is two hours."
"Listen, you Venusian clunk," exploded Roger, "_I_ built this thing, so
I know what I'm doing!"
"But, Roger--" protested Astro.
"Twenty minutes!" said Roger, and twisted the set-screw in the fuse.
"O.K., it's all set. Let's get out of here!"
The two cadets raced back to the jet boat and blasted off immediately.
Once in space, Astro turned to Roger.
"Better check in with Major Connel before he tears himself to pieces!"
"Yeah," agreed Roger. "I guess you're right." He flipped on the audio
communicator. "Attention! Attention! Manning to Major Connel. Am making
flight back to _Polaris_. All installations complete."
[Illustration: "_Remember," Astro cautioned, "set the fuse for two
hours._"]
"What took you so long, Manning?" barked Connel in reply. "And why
didn't you answer me?"
"Couldn't, sir," said Roger. "We had a tough time digging a hole for the
last unit."
"Come back to the _Polaris_ immediately," said Connel. "We're blasting
off in fifteen minutes."
"Very well, sir," said Roger.
Presently the jet boat circled the _Polaris_ and made a landing run for
the open port. Roger braked the small craft and brought it to rest
alongside the others.
"That's it, spaceboy," he said to Astro. "All out for the _Polaris_
express back home!"
"Just be sure you give me a good course, Manning," grunted Astro,
heaving his huge frame out of the small cabin of the jet boat, "and I'll
give you all the thrust you want!"
Astro secured the jet boats while Roger closed the air-lock hatch,
shutting out the last view of the rugged little planetoid. Roger threw
the landscape a mocking kiss.
"So long, Junior! See you back home!" The two cadets climbed the ladder
leading to the control deck.
Seated in front of the control panel, Tom watched the sweeping hand of
the solar clock. Connel paced nervously up and down behind him. Shinny
and Alfie stood to one side also watching the great clock.
"How much time, Corbett?" asked Connel for the dozenth time.
"Junior gets his kick in the pants in ten minutes, sir," replied Tom.
"Fine," said Connel. "That gives me just enough time to notify Space
Academy to get ready to receive Junior's signal. You know what to do?"
"I don't have to do anything, sir," answered Tom, nodding to the solar
clock over his head. "In nine minutes and twenty seconds, the reactor
units go off automatically at one-second intervals."
Roger and Astro entered the control deck and came to attention. Connel
returned their salute and put them at ease.
"All right, our work here is done," said Connel. "No point in hanging
around any longer. Tom, you can blast off immediately."
"Yes, sir," replied Tom.
Connel climbed the ladder to the radar bridge to contact Space Academy.
Astro, Roger, Shinny, and Alfie went to their posts and began quick
preparations for the blast-off. One by one, they checked in to Tom on
the control deck.
"Power deck, ready to blast off!" reported Astro.
"Radar bridge, all set. Clear trajectory forward and up," said Roger.
"Energize the cooling pumps!" bawled Tom into the intercom.
The great pumps began to wheeze under the strain of Astro's sudden
switch to full load without the usual slow build-up. Tom watched the
pressure needle rise slowly in front of him and finally reached out and
gripped the master switch.
"Stand by to raise ship!" he yelled. "Blast off minus
five--four--three--two--one--_zeroooooo!_"
He threw the switch. The great ship shivered, vibrated, and then
suddenly shot away from the precious satellite. Tom quickly adjusted for
free fall by switching on the synthetic-gravity gyro generators and then
announced over the intercom,
"Major Connel! Cadet Corbett reporting. Ship space-borne at exactly
thirty-one, sir!"
"Very well, Corbett," replied Connel. "Space Academy sends the crew a
'_well done!_' Everything's set back home to take over the beam as soon
as Junior starts on his way back. How much time until zero blast-off on
the satellite?"
Tom glanced at the clock. "Less than two minutes, sir!"
"All right," said Connel over the intercom, "everybody to the control
deck if you want to see Junior do his stuff!"
In a moment the six spacemen were gathered around the magnascope waiting
for the final act of their great effort. Breathlessly, their eyes
flicking back and forth from the solar clock to the magnascope, they
waited for the red hand to sweep around.
"Here it comes," said Tom excitedly. "One second--two
seconds--three--four--_five!_"
On the surface of the planetoid, giant mushrooming clouds appeared
climbing into the airless void. One by one the reactor units exploded.
Connel counted them as they blew up.
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight--" he paused. Junior
began moving away from them. "Nine!" shouted Connel. "What happened to
nine?"
"Roger," shouted Astro, "you made a mistake on the timer!"
"But I couldn't. I--I--"
Connel spun around, his eyes blazing, breathing hard. "What time did you
set the last one for, Roger?" he demanded.
"Why, twenty minutes to blast-off time, sir," answered the blond-headed
cadet.
"Then it won't go off for another forty minutes," said Connel.
"But, sir--" began Roger, and then fell silent. The room was quiet.
Everyone looked at Roger and then at Connel. "Honestly, sir, I didn't
mean to make a mistake. I--" pleaded Roger.
Connel turned around. His face suddenly looked very tired. "That's all
right, Roger," he said quietly. "We've all been working pretty hard. One
little mistake is bound to show up in an operation like this." He
paused. "It's my fault. I should have checked those fuses myself."
"Does it make so much difference, sir?" asked Astro.
"A lot of difference, Astro," said Connel. He sat down heavily.
"But how, sir?" asked Tom.
"It's very simple, Tom," answered Connel. His voice was strangely quiet.
"Junior spins on its axis in two hours, just as Earth spins in
twenty-four hours. I thought we had the explosions timed so at the
proper moment we'd push Junior out of his orbit around Tara, and the
greater orbit around Alpha Centauri, by utilizing both speeds, plus the
initial thrust. But by being one blast short, forty minutes late, the
explosion will take place when Junior is forty minutes out of
position"--he paused and calculated rapidly in his mind--"that's about
forty-eight thousand miles out of position. When it goes off, instead of
sending Junior out into space, it'll blast it right into its own sun!"
"Isn't there something we can do, sir?" asked Tom.
"Nothing, Corbett," answered Connel wearily. "Instead of supplying the
Solar Alliance with copper, in another week Junior will be hardly more
than a molten piece of space junk." He looked at the teleceiver screen.
All ready, Junior was falling away.
"Stand by for full acceleration, hyperdrive," said the big officer in a
hoarse whisper. "We're heading home!"