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STAND BY
FOR MARS!
[Illustration]
A TOM CORBETT Space Cadet Adventure
STAND BY
FOR MARS!
By CAREY ROCKWELL
WILLY LEY _Technical Adviser_
GROSSET & DUNLAP _Publishers_ New York
COPYRIGHT, 1952, BY
ROCKHILL RADIO
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
STAND BY FOR MARS!
[Illustration: _The scarlet-clad figure stood before them_]
CHAPTER 1
"Stand to, you rocket wash!"
A harsh, bull-throated roar thundered over the platform of the monorail
station at Space Academy and suddenly the lively chatter and laughter of
more than a hundred boys was stilled. Tumbling out of the gleaming
monorail cars, they froze to quick attention, their eyes turned to the
main exit ramp.
They saw a short, squat, heavily built man, wearing the scarlet uniform
of the enlisted Solar Guard, staring down at them, his fists jammed into
his hips and his feet spread wide apart. He stood there a moment, his
sharp eyes flicking over the silent clusters, then slowly sauntered down
the ramp toward them with a strangely light, catfooted tread.
"Form up! Column of fours!"
Almost before the echoes of the thunderous voice died down, the
scattered groups of boys had formed themselves into four ragged lines
along the platform.
The scarlet-clad figure stood before them, his seamed and weather-beaten
face set in stern lines. But there was a glint of laughter in his eyes
as he noticed the grotesque and sometimes tortuous positions of some of
the boys as they braced themselves in what they considered a military
pose.
Every year, for the last ten years, he had met the trains at the
monorail station. Every year, he had seen boys in their late teens,
gathered from Earth, Mars and Venus, three planets millions of miles
apart. They were dressed in many different styles of clothes; the loose
flowing robes of the lads from the Martian deserts; the knee-length
shorts and high stockings of the boys from the Venusian jungles; the
vari-colored jacket and trouser combinations of the boys from the
magnificent Earth cities. But they all had one thing in common--a dream.
All had visions of becoming Space Cadets, and later, officers in the
Solar Guard. Each dreamed of the day when he would command rocket ships
that patrolled the space lanes from the outer edges of Pluto to the
twilight zone of Mercury. They were all the same.
"All right now! Let's get squared away!" His voice was a little more
friendly now. "My name's McKenny--Mike McKenny. Warrant Officer--Solar
Guard. See these hash marks?"
He suddenly held out a thick arm that bulged against the tight red
sleeve. From the wrists to the elbow, the lines of boys could see a
solid corrugation of white V-shaped stripes.
"Each one of these marks represents four years in space," he continued.
"There's ten marks here and I intend making it an even dozen! And no
bunch of Earthworms is going to make me lose the chance to get those
last two by trying to make a space monkey out of me!"
McKenny sauntered along the line of boys with that same strange catlike
step and looked squarely into the eyes of each boy in turn.
"Just to keep the record straight, I'm your cadet supervisor. I handle
you until you either wash out and go home, or you finally blast off and
become spacemen. If you stub your toe or cut your finger, come to me. If
you get homesick, come to me. And if you get into trouble"--he paused
momentarily--"don't bother because I'll be looking for _you_, with a
fist full of demerits!"
McKenny continued his slow inspection of the ranks, then suddenly
stopped short. At the far end of the line, a tall, ruggedly built boy of
about eighteen, with curly brown hair and a pleasant, open face, was
stirring uncomfortably. He slowly reached down toward his right boot and
held it, while he wriggled his foot into it. McKenny quickly strode over
and planted himself firmly in front of the boy.
"When I say stand to, I mean stand to!" he roared.
The boy jerked himself erect and snapped to attention.
"I--I'm sorry, sir," he stammered. "But my boot--it was coming off
and--"
"I don't care if your pants are falling down, an order's an order!"
The boy gulped and reddened as a nervous titter rippled through the
ranks. McKenny spun around and glared. There was immediate silence.
"What's your name?" He turned back to the boy.
"Corbett, sir. Cadet Candidate Tom Corbett," answered the boy.
"Wanta be a spaceman, do ya?" asked Mike, pushing his jaw out another
inch.
"Yes, sir!"
"Been studying long hard hours in primary school, eh? Talked your mother
and father deaf in the ears to let you come to Space Academy and be a
spaceman! You want to feel those rockets bucking in your back out in the
stars? _EH?_"
"Yes, sir," replied Tom, wondering how this man he didn't even know
could know so much about him.
"_Well, you won't make it_ if I ever catch you disobeying orders again!"
McKenny turned quickly to see what effect he had created on the others.
The lines of bewildered faces satisfied him that his old trick of using
one of the cadets as an example was a success. He turned back to
Corbett.
"The only reason I'm not logging you now is because you're not a Space
Cadet yet--and won't be, until you've taken the Academy oath!"
"Yes, sir!"
McKenny walked down the line and across the platform to an open
teleceiver booth. The ranks were quiet and motionless, and as he made
his call, McKenny smiled. Finally, when the tension seemed unbearable,
he roared, "At ease!" and closed the door of the booth.
The ranks melted immediately and the boys fell into chattering clusters,
their voices low, and they occasionally peered over their shoulders at
Corbett as if he had suddenly been stricken with a horrible plague.
Brooding over the seeming ill-fortune that had called McKenny's
attention to him at the wrong time, Tom sat down on his suitcase to
adjust his boot. He shook his head slowly. He had heard Space Academy
was tough, tougher than any other school in the world, but he didn't
expect the stern discipline to begin so soon.
"This could be the beginning of the end," drawled a lazy voice in back
of Tom, "for some of the more enthusiastic cadets." Someone laughed.
Tom turned to see a boy about his own age, weight and height, with
close-cropped blond hair that stood up brushlike all over his head. He
was lounging idly against a pillar, luggage piled high around his feet.
Tom recognized him immediately as Roger Manning, and his pleasant
features twisted into a scowl.
"About what I'd expect from that character," he thought, "after the
trick he pulled on Astro, that big fellow from Venus."
Tom's thoughts were of the night before, when the connecting links of
transportation from all over the Solar Alliance had deposited the boys
in the Central Station at Atom City where they were to board the
monorail express for the final lap to Space Academy.
Manning, as Tom remembered it, had taken advantage of the huge Venusian
by tricking him into carrying his luggage. Reasoning that since the
gravity of Venus was considerably less than that of Earth, he convinced
Astro that he needed the extra weight to maintain his balance. It had
been a cheap trick, but no one had wanted to challenge the sharpness of
Manning's tongue and come to Astro's rescue. Tom had wanted to, but
refrained when he saw that Astro didn't mind.
Finishing his conversation on the teleceiver, McKenny stepped out of the
booth and faced the boys again.
"All right," he bawled. "They're all set for you at the Academy! Pick up
your gear and follow me!" With a quick light step, he hopped on the
rolling slidewalk at the edge of the platform and started moving away.
"Hey, Astro!" Roger Manning stopped the huge boy about to step over.
"Going to carry my bags?"
The Venusian, a full head taller, hesitated and looked doubtfully at the
four suitcases at Roger's feet.
"Come on," prodded Roger in a tone of mock good nature. "The gravity
around here is the same as in Atom City. It's the same all over the face
of the Earth. Wouldn't want you to just fly away." He snickered and
looked around, winking broadly.
Astro still hesitated, "I don't know, Manning. I--uhh--"
"By the rings of Saturn! What's going on here?" Suddenly from outside
the ring of boys that had gathered around, McKenny came roaring in,
bulling his way to the center of the group to face Roger and Astro.
"I have a strained wrist, sir," began Roger smoothly.
"And this cadet candidate"--he nodded casually toward Astro--"offered to
carry my luggage. Now he refuses."
Mike glared at Astro. "Did you agree to carry this man's luggage?"
"Well--I--ah--" fumbled Astro.
"Well? Did you or didn't you?"
"I guess I sorta did, sir," replied Astro, his face turning a slow red.
"I don't hold with anyone doing another man's work, but if a Solar Guard
officer, a Space Cadet, or even a cadet candidate gives his word he'll
do something, he does it!" McKenny shook a finger in Astro's face,
reaching up to do it. "Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," was the embarrassed reply.
McKenny turned to Manning who stood listening, a faint smile playing on
his lips.
"What's your name, Mister?"
"Manning. Roger Manning," he answered easily.
"So you've got a strained wrist, have you?" asked Mike mockingly while
sending a sweeping glance from top to bottom of the gaudy colored
clothes.
"Yes, sir."
"Can't carry your own luggage, eh?"
"Yes," answered Roger evenly. "I could carry my own luggage. I thought
the candidate from Venus might give me a helping hand. Nothing more. I
certainly didn't intend for him to become a marked man for a simple
gesture of comradeship." He glanced past McKenny toward the other boys
and added softly, "And comradeship _is_ the spirit of Space Academy,
isn't it, sir?"
His face suddenly crimson, McKenny spluttered, searching for a ready
answer, then turned away abruptly.
"What are you all standing around for?" he roared. "Get your gear and
yourselves over on that slidewalk! Blast!" He turned once again to the
rolling platform. Manning smiled at Astro and hopped nimbly onto the
slidewalk after McKenny, leaving his luggage in a heap in front of
Astro.
"And be careful with that small case, Astro," he called as he drifted
away.
"Here, Astro," said Tom. "I'll give you a hand."
"Never mind," replied Astro grimly. "I can carry 'em."
"No, let me help." Tom bent over--then suddenly straightened. "By the
way, we haven't introduced ourselves. My name's Corbett--Tom Corbett."
He stuck out his hand. Astro hesitated, sizing up the curly-headed boy
in front of him, who stood smiling and offering friendship. Finally he
pushed out his own hand and smiled back at Tom.
"Astro, but you know that by now."
"That sure was a dirty deal Manning gave you."
"Ah, I don't mind carrying his bags. It's just that I wanted to tell him
he's going to have to send it all back. They don't allow a candidate to
keep more than a toothbrush at the Academy."
"Guess he'll find out the hard way."
Carrying Manning's luggage as well as their own, they finally stepped on
the slidewalk and began the smooth easy ride from the monorail station
to the Academy. Both having felt the sharpness of Manning's tongue, and
both having been dressed down by Warrant Officer McKenny, they seemed to
be linked by a bond of trouble and they stood close together for mutual
comfort.
As the slidewalk whisked them silently past the few remaining buildings
and credit exchanges that nestled around the monorail station, Tom gave
thought to his new life.
Ever since Jon Builker, the space explorer, returning from the first
successful flight to a distant galaxy, came through his home town near
New Chicago twelve years before, Tom had wanted to be a spaceman.
Through high school and the New Chicago Primary Space School where he
had taken his first flight above Earth's atmosphere, he had waited for
the day when he would pass his entrance exams and be accepted as a cadet
candidate in Space Academy. For no reason at all, a lump rose in his
throat, as the slidewalk rounded a curve and he saw for the first time,
the gleaming white magnificence of the Tower of Galileo. He recognized
it immediately from the hundreds of books he had read about the Academy
and stared wordlessly.
"Sure is pretty, isn't it?" asked Astro, his voice strangely husky.
"Yeah," breathed Tom in reply. "It sure is." He could only stare at the
shimmering tower ahead.
"It's all I've ever wanted to do," said Tom at length. "Just get out
there and--be _free_!"
"I know what you mean. It's the greatest feeling in the world."
"You say that as if you've already been up there."
Astro grinned. "Yup. Used to be an enlisted space sailor. Bucked rockets
in an old freighter on the Luna City--Venusport run."
"Well, what are you doing here?" Tom was amazed and impressed.
"Simple. I want to be an officer. I want to get into the Solar Guard and
handle the power-push in one of those cruisers."
Tom's eyes glowed with renewed admiration for his new friend. "I've been
out four or five times but only in jet boats five hundred miles out.
Nothing like a jump to Luna City or Venusport."
By now the slidewalk had carried them past the base of the Tower of
Galileo to a large building facing the Academy quadrangle and the spell
was broken by McKenny's bull-throated roar.
"Haul off, you blasted polliwogs!"
As the boys jumped off the slidewalk, a cadet, dressed in the vivid blue
that Tom recognized as the official dress of the Senior Cadet Corps,
walked up to McKenny and spoke to him quietly. The warrant officer
turned back to the waiting group and gave rapid orders.
"By twos, follow Cadet Herbert inside and he'll assign you to your
quarters. Shower, shave if you have to and can find anything to shave,
and dress in the uniform that'll be supplied you. Be ready to take the
Academy oath at"--he paused and glanced at the senior cadet who held up
three fingers--"fifteen hundred hours. That's three o'clock. All clear?
Blast off!"
Just as the boys began to move, there was a sudden blasting roar in the
distance. The noise expanded and rolled across the hills surrounding
Space Academy. It thundered over the grassy quadrangle, vibrating waves
of sound one on top of the other, until the very air quivered under the
impact.
Mouths open, eyes popping, the cadet candidates stood rooted in their
tracks and stared as, in the distance, a long, thin, needlelike ship
seemed to balance delicately on a column of flame, then suddenly shoot
skyward and disappear.
"Pull in your eyeballs!" McKenny's voice crackled over the receding
thunder. "You'll fly one of those firecrackers some day. But right now
you're _Earthworms_, the lowest form of animal life in the Academy!"
As the boys snapped to attention again, Tom thought he caught a faint
smile on Cadet Herbert's face as he stood to one side waiting for
McKenny to finish his tirade. Suddenly he snapped his back straight,
turned sharply and stepped through the wide doors of the building.
Quickly the double line of boys followed.
"Did you see that, Astro?" asked Tom excitedly. "That was a Solar Guard
patrol ship!"
"Yeah, I know," replied Astro. The big candidate from Venus scratched
his chin and eyed Tom bashfully. "Say, Tom--ah, since we sort of know
each other, how about us trying to get in the same quarters?"
"O.K. by me, Astro, if we can," said Tom, grinning back at his friend.
The line pressed forward to Cadet Herbert, who was now waiting at the
bottom of the slidestairs, a mesh belt that spiraled upward in a narrow
well to the upper stories of the building. Speaking into an
audioscriber, a machine that transmitted his spoken words into
typescript, he repeated the names of the candidates as they passed.
"Cadet Candidate Tom Corbett," announced Tom, and Herbert repeated it
into the audioscriber.
"Cadet Candidate Astro!" The big Venusian stepped forward.
"What's the rest of it, Mister?" inquired Herbert.
"That's all. Just Astro."
"No other names?"
"No, sir," replied Astro. "You see--"
"You don't say 'sir' to a senior cadet, Mister. And we're not interested
in why you have only one name!" Herbert snapped.
"Yes, sir--uhh--Mister." Astro flushed and joined Tom.
"Cadet Candidate Philip Morgan," announced the next boy.
Herbert repeated the name into the machine, then announced, "Cadet
Candidates Tom Corbett, Astro, and Philip Morgan assigned to Section
42-D."
Turning to the three boys, he indicated the spiraling slidestairs.
"Forty-second floor. You'll find Section D in the starboard wing."
Astro and Tom immediately began to pile Manning's luggage to one side of
the slidestairs.
"Take your luggage with you, Misters!" snapped Herbert.
"It isn't ours," replied Tom.
"Isn't yours?" Herbert glanced over the pile of suitcases and turned
back to Tom. "Whose is it then?"
"Belongs to Cadet Candidate Roger Manning," replied Tom.
"What are you doing with it?"
"We were carrying it for him."
"Do we have a candidate in the group who finds it necessary to provide
himself with valet service?"
Herbert moved along the line of boys.
"Will Cadet Candidate Roger Manning please step forward?"
Roger slid from behind a group of boys to face the senior cadet's cold
stare.
"Roger Manning here," he presented himself smoothly.
"Is that your luggage?" Herbert jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
"It is."
Roger smiled confidently, but Herbert merely stared coldly.
"You have a peculiar attitude for a candidate, Manning."
"Is there a prescribed attitude, Mr. Herbert?" Roger asked, his smile
broadening. "If there is, I'll be only too glad to conform to it."
Herbert's face twitched almost imperceptibly. Then he nodded, made a
notation on a pad and returned to his post at the head of the gaping
line of boys. "From now on, Candidate Manning, you will be responsible
for your own belongings."
Tom, Astro, and Philip Morgan stepped on the slidestairs and began
their spiraling ascent to the forty-second floor.
"I saw what happened at the monorail station," drawled the third member
of Section 42-D, leaning against the bannister of the moving belt. "By
the craters of Luna, that Manning felluh sure is a hot operator."
"We found out for ourselves," grunted Astro.
"Say, since we're all bunkin' togethuh, let's get to knowin' each othuh.
My name's Phil Morgan, come from Georgia. Where you all from?"
"New Chicago," replied Tom. "Name's Tom Corbett. And this is Astro."
"Hiya." Astro stuck out a big paw and grinned his wide grin. "I guess
you heard. Astro's all the name I've got."
"How come?" inquired the Southerner.
"I'm from Venus and it's a custom from way back when Venus was first
colonized to just hand out one name."
"Funny custom," drawled Phil.
Astro started to say something and then stopped, clamping his lips
together. Tom could see his face turn a slow pink. Phil saw it too, and
hastily added:
"Oh--I didn't mean anything. I--ah--" he broke off, embarrassed.
"Forget it, Phil." Astro grinned again.
"Say," interjected Tom. "Look at that!"
They all turned to look at the floor they were passing. Near the edge of
the step-off platform on the fourth floor was an oaken panel, inscribed
with silver lettering in relief. As they drew even with the plaque, they
caught sight of someone behind them. They turned to see Manning, the
pile of suitcases in front of him, reading aloud.
" ... to the brave men who sacrificed their lives in the conquest of
space, this Galaxy Hall is dedicated...."
"Say, this must be the museum," said Tom. "Here's where they have all
the original gear used in the first space hops."
"Absolutely right," said Manning with a smile.
"I wonder if we could get off and take a look?" Astro asked.
"Sure you can," said Roger. "In fact, the Academy regs say every cadet
must inspect the exhibits in the space museum within the first week."
The members of Section 42-D looked at Roger questioningly.
"I don't know if we have time." Tom was dubious.
"Sure you have--plenty. I'd hop off and take a look myself but I've got
to get this junk ready to ship home." He indicated the pile of bags in
front of him.
"Aw, come on, Tom, let's take a look!" urged Astro. "They have the old
_Space Queen_ in here, the first ship to clear Earth's gravity. Boy, I'd
sure like to see her!" Without waiting for the others to agree, the huge
candidate stepped off the slidestairs.
"Hey, Astro!" yelled Tom. "Wait! I don't think--" His voice trailed off
as the moving stair carried him up to the next floor.
But then a curious thing happened. As other boys came abreast of the
museum floor and saw Astro they began to get off and follow him,
wandering around gazing at the relics of the past.
Soon nearly half of the cadet candidates were standing in silent awe in
front of the battered hull of the _Space Queen_, the first
atomic-powered rocket ship allowed on exhibition only fifty years before
because of the deadly radioactivity in her hull, created when a lead
baffle melted in midspace and flooded the ship with murderous gamma
rays.
They stood in front of the spaceship and listened while Astro, in a
hushed voice, read the inscription on the bronze tablet.
"--Earth to Luna and return. 7th March 2051. In honor of the brave men
of the first atomic-powered spaceship to land successfully on the planet
Moon, only to perish on return to Earth...."
"Candidates--staaaaaaaaannnnnd _too_!"
Like a clap of thunder Warrant Officer McKenny's voice jarred the boys
out of their silence. He stepped forward like a bantam rooster and faced
the startled group of boys.
"I wanna know just _one_ thing! Who stepped off that slidestairs
_first_?"
The boys all hesitated.
"I guess I was the first, sir," said Astro, stepping forward.
"Oh, you guess you were, eh?" roared McKenny.
Taking a deep breath McKenny launched into a blistering tirade. His
choice of words were to be long remembered by the group and repeated to
succeeding classes. Storming against the huge Venusian like a pygmy
attacking an elephant, McKenny roared, berated and blasted.
Later, when Astro finally reached his quarters and changed into the
green coveralls of the cadet candidates, Tom and Phil crowded around
him.
"It was Roger, blast him!" said Tom angrily. "He was getting back at you
because Cadet Herbert made him carry his own gear."
"I asked for it," grumbled Astro. "Ah, I should've known better. But I
just couldn't wait to see the _Queen_." He balled his huge hands into
tight knots and stared at the floor.
"Now hear this!!!"
A voice suddenly rasped over the PA system loud-speaker above the door.
"All cadet candidates will come to attention to receive the Space
Academy oath from Commander Walters." The voice paused. "_AT-TENT-SHUN!_
Cadet candidates--Staaaaannnnd _TO_!"
"This is Commander Walters speaking!" A deep, powerful voice purred
through the speaker. "The Academy oath is taken individually.
"It is something each candidate locks in his spirit, his mind and his
heart. That is why it is taken in your quarters. The oath is not a show
of color, it is a way of life. Each candidate will face as closely as
possible in the direction of his home and swear by his own individual
God as he repeats after me."
Astro stepped quickly to the window port and gazed into the blue
heavens, eyes searching out the misty planet Venus. Phil Morgan thought
a moment, and faced toward the wall with the inlaid star chart of the
sky, thinking of sun-bathed Georgia. Tom Corbett stared straight at a
blank wall.
Each boy did not see what was in front of him yet he saw further,
perhaps, than he had ever seen before. He looked into a future which
held the limitlessness of the universe and new worlds and planets to be
lifted out of the oblivion of uncharted depths of space to come.
They repeated slowly....
" ... I solemnly swear to uphold the Constitution of the Solar Alliance,
to obey interplanetary law, to protect the liberties of the planets, to
safeguard the freedom of space and to uphold the cause of peace
throughout the universe ... to this end, I dedicate my life!"