"The following ships in Squadron A will blast off immediately," roared
Commander Walters over the teleceiver. He looked up alertly from a chart
before him in the Academy spaceport control tower. He began to name the
ships. "_Capella_, orbital tangent--09834, _Arcturus_, orbital
tangent--09835, _Centauri_, orbital tangent--09836, _Polaris_, orbital
tangent--09837!"
Aboard the space cruiser _Polaris_, Tom Corbett turned away from the
control board. "That's us, sir," he said to Captain Strong.
"Very well, Corbett." The Solar Guard captain walked to the ship's
intercom and flipped on the switch.
"Astro, Roger, stand by!"
Astro and Roger reported in. Strong began to speak. "The cadet corps has
been divided into squadrons of four ships each. We are command ship of
Squadron A. When we reach free-fall space, we are to proceed as a group
until eight hundred hours, when we are to open sealed orders. Each of
the other seven squadrons will open their orders at the same time. Two
of the squadrons will then act as invaders while the remaining six will
be the defending fleet. It will be the invaders' job to reach their
objective and the defenders' job to stop them."
"Spaceport control to rocket cruiser _Polaris_, your orbit has been
cleared for blast-off...." The voice of Commander Walters interrupted
Strong in his instructions and he turned back to Tom.
"Take over, Corbett."
Tom turned to the teleceiver. "Rocket cruiser _Polaris_ to spaceport
control."
" ... Blast off minus two--six hundred forty-eight...."
"I read you clear," said Tom. He clicked off the teleceiver and turned
back to the intercom. "Stand by to raise ship! Control deck to radar
deck. Do we have clear trajectory forward and up, Roger?"
"All clear forward and up," replied Roger.
"Control deck to power deck ... energize the cooling pumps!"
"Cooling pumps, aye," came from Astro.
The giant ship began to shudder as the mighty pumps on the power deck
started their build.
Tom strapped himself into the pilot's seat and began checking the dials
in front of him. Satisfied, he fastened his eyes on the sweep hand of
the time clock. Above his head, the teleceiver screen brought him a
clear picture of the Academy spaceport. He watched the giant cruisers
take to the air one by one and rocket into the vastness of space.
The clock hand reached the ten-second mark.
"Stand by to raise ship!" Tom called into the intercom. The red hand
moved steadily, inexorably. Tom reached for the master switch.
"Blast off minus--five--four--three--two--one--_zero_!"
Tom threw the switch.
The great ship hovered above the ground for a few moments. Then it
heaved itself skyward, faster and ever faster, pushing the Earthmen deep
into their acceleration cushions.
Reaching free-fall space, Tom flipped on the artificial-gravity
generator. He felt its pull on his body, quickly checked all the
instruments and turned to Captain Strong.
"Ship space-borne at six hundred fifty-three, sir."
"Very well, Corbett," replied Strong. "Check in with the _Arcturus_,
_Capella_ and the _Centauri_, form up on one another and assume a course
that will bring you back over Academy spaceport at eight hundred hours,
when we will open orders."
"Yes, sir," said Tom, turning back eagerly to the control board.
For nearly two hours the four rocket ships of Squadron A moved through
space in a perfect arc, shaping up for the 0800 deadline. Strong made
use of the time to check a new astrogation prism perfected by Dr. Dale
for use at hyperspace speeds. Tom rechecked his instruments, then
prepared hot tea and sandwiches in the galley for his shipmates.
"This is what I call service," said Astro. He stood stripped to the
waist, a wide leather belt studded with assorted wrenches of various
shapes and sizes strapped around his hips. In one hand he carried a wad
of waste cotton with which he continually polished the surfaces of the
atomic motors, while his eyes constantly searched the many gauges in
front of him for the slightest sign of engine failure.
"Never mind bringing anything up to Manning. I'll eat his share."
Astro had deliberately turned the intercom on so Roger on the radar deck
might hear. The response from that corner was immediate and emphatic.
"Listen, you rocket-headed grease monkey," yelled Roger. "If you so much
as smell that grub, I'll come down and feed you into the reactant
chamber!"
Tom smiled at Astro and turned to the ladder leading up from the power
deck. Passing through the control deck on the way to the radar bridge,
he glanced at the clock. It was ten minutes to eight.
"Only one thing I'm worried about, Corbett," said Roger through a
mouthful of sandwich.
"What's that?" asked Tom.
"Collision!" said Roger. "Some of these space-happy cadets might get
excited, and I for one don't want to wind up as a flash in Earth's
atmosphere!"
"Why, you have radar, to see anything that goes on."
"Oh, sure," said Roger, "I can keep this wagon outa their way, but will
they stay outa mine? Why my father told me once--" Roger choked on his
food and turned away to the radar screen.
"Well," said Tom after a moment, "what _did_ your father tell you?"
"Ah--nothing--not important. But I've got to get a cross-fix on Regulus
before we start our little games."
Tom looked puzzled. Here was another of Roger's quick changes of
attitude. What was it all about? But there was work to do, so Tom
shrugged his shoulders and returned to the control deck. He couldn't
forget what Roger had said about a collision, though.
"Excuse me, Captain," said Tom, "but have there been any serious
collisions in space between ships?"
"Sure have, Tom," replied Strong. "About twenty years ago, maybe less,
there was a whole wave of them. That was before we developed
superrebound pulse radar. The ships were faster than the radar at close
range."
Strong paused. "Why do you ask?"
Before Tom could answer, there was a sharp warning from the captain.
"Eight o'clock, Corbett!"
Tom ripped open the envelope containing the sealed orders.
"Congratulations," he read. "You are in command of the defenders. You
have under your command, Squadrons A--B--C--D--E--F. Squadrons G and H
are your enemies, and at this moment are on their way to attack Luna
City. It is your job to protect it and destroy the enemy fleet.
Spaceman's luck! Walters, Commander Space Academy, Senior Officer Solar
Guard."
"Roger," yelled Tom, "we've been selected as flagship for the defenders!
Get me a course to Luna City!"
"Good for us, spaceboy. I'll give you that course in a jiffy!"
" ... _Capella_ to _Polaris_--am standing by for your orders...." Tony
Richards' voice crackled over the teleceiver. One by one the
twenty-three ships that made up the defender's fleet checked in for
orders.
"Astro," shouted Tom, "stand by for maneuver--and be prepared to give me
every ounce of thrust you can get!"
"Ready, willing and able, Tom," replied Astro. "Just be sure those other
space jockeys can keep up with me, that's all!"
Tom turned to Captain Strong.
"What do you think of approaching--"
Strong cut him off. "Corbett, you are in complete command. Take
over--you're losing time talking to me!"
"Yes, sir!" said Tom. He turned back to the control board, his face
flushed with excitement. Twenty-four ships to maneuver and the
responsibility all his own. Via a chart projected on a screen, he
studied various approaches to the Moon and Luna City. What would he do
if he were in command of the invading fleet? He noticed the Moon was
nearing a point where it would be in eclipse on Luna City itself. He
studied the chart further, made several notations and turned to the
teleceiver.
"Attention--attention--flagship _Polaris_ to Squadrons B and C--proceed
to chart seven--sectors eight and nine. You will patrol those sectors.
Attention Squadrons D and F--proceed to Luna City at emergency space
speed, hover at one hundred thousand feet above Luna City spaceport and
wait for further orders. Attention, ships three and four of Squadron
F--you will proceed to chart six--sectors sixty-eight through
seventy-five. Cut all rockets and remain there until further orders.
The remainder of Squadron F--ships one and two--will join Squadron A.
Squadron A will stand by for further orders." Tom glanced at the clock
and punched the intercom button.
[Illustration: _"Attention Squadrons D and F--proceed to Luna City"_]
"Have you got that course, Roger?"
"Three degrees on the starboard rockets, seventy-eight degrees on the
up-plane of the ecliptic will put you at the corner of Luna Drive and
Moonset Land in the heart of Luna City, spaceboy!" answered Roger.
"Get that, Astro?" asked Tom on the intercom.
"All set," replied Astro.
"Attention all ships in Squadron A--this is flagship--code name
Starlight--am changing course. Stand by to form up on me!"
Tom turned back to the intercom.
"Power deck, execute!"
At more than five thousand miles an hour, the _Polaris_ hurtled toward
its destination. One by one the remaining ships moved alongside until
all six had their needlelike noses pointed toward the pale satellite of
the Moon.
"I'd like to know what your plans are, Tom," said Strong, when the long
haul toward the Moon had settled down to a routine. "Just idle
curiosity, nothing more. You don't have to tell me if you don't want
to."
"Golly, yes," said Tom, "I'd be very grateful for your opinion."
"Well, let's have it," said the captain. "But as for my opinion--I'll
listen, but I won't say anything."
Tom grinned sheepishly.
"Well," he began, "if I were in command of the invading fleet, I would
strike in force--I'd have to, to do damage with only eight ships. There
are three possible approaches to Luna City. One is from the Earth side,
using the eclipse corridor of darkness as protection. To meet that,
I've stationed two ships at different levels and distances in that
corridor so that it would be impossible for an invasion to pass
unnoticed."
"You mean, you'd be willing to give up two ships to the invader to have
him betray his position. Is that right?"
"Yes, sir. But I've also sent Squadrons B and C to sectors eight and
nine on chart seven. So I have a roving squadron to go to their aid,
should the invader strike there. And on the other hand, should he manage
to get through my outer defense, I have Squadrons D and E over Luna City
itself as an inner defense. As for Squadron A, we'll try to engage the
enemy first and maybe weaken him; at least reduce the full force of his
attack. And then have Squadrons B, C, D and E finish him off, by attack
from three different points."
Strong nodded silently. The young cadet was shaping up a defensive
strategy with great skill. If he could only follow through on his plans,
the invaders of Luna City wouldn't have much chance of success--even if
willing to take heavy losses.
Roger's voice came on. "Got a report for you, Tom. From command ship,
Squadron B. They've sighted the invaders and are advancing to meet
them."
Tom checked his charts and turned to the intercom.
"Send them this message, Roger," he said. "From Starlight, to command
ship, Squadrons B and C--approach enemy ships from position of chart
nineteen, sections one through ten."
"Right!" said Roger.
Strong smiled. Tom was driving his heaviest force between the invading
fleet and its objective--forcing the aggressors into a trap.
Tom gave more crisp orders to his squadrons. He asked Roger for an
estimated range, and then, rechecking his position, turned again to the
intercom.
"Astro, how much could you get out of this baby by opening the by-pass
between the cooling pumps and the reactant chamber? That'd mean feeding
the stuff into the motors only half cooled."
Strong turned, started to speak, then clamped his lips together.
"Another quarter space speed, roughly," replied Astro, "about fifteen
hundred miles more an hour. Do you want me to do that?"
"No, not now," replied Tom. "Just wanted to know what I could depend on,
if I get stuck."
"O.K.," said Astro. "Let me know!"
"Why use emergency speed, Corbett?" asked Strong. "You seem to have your
enemy right where you want him now."
"Yes, sir," replied Tom. "And the enemy knows I have him. He can't
possibly attack Luna City now. But he can still run away. He can make
his escape by this one route."
Tom walked to the chart and ran his finger on a line away from the
invader's position into the asteroid belt.
"I don't want him to get away," Tom explained. "And with the extra
speed, we can cut him off, force him to turn into a position where the
remainder of my fleet would finish him off."
"You'll do this with just the _Polaris_?"
"Oh, no, sir," said Tom. "I'd use the _Arcturus_, _Capella_ and the
_Centauri_, as well."
"Are you sure those other ships can equal your speed?"
"They've got exactly the same type engines as we have here on the
_Polaris_, sir. I'm sure they could--and with perfect safety."
Strong hesitated a moment, started to ask a question, then stopped and
walked to the chart screen. He checked the figures. He checked them four
times, then turned to Tom with a grin and an outstretched hand.
"I've got to offer my congratulations, Tom. This maneuver would wipe
them out. And I've got a notion that you'd come off without the loss of
a single ship, plus, and it is a big plus, keeping the invaders more
than fifty thousand miles away from their objective!"
The captain turned to the teleceiver. "Rocket cruiser _Polaris_ to
control tower at Space Academy--"
There was a crackle of static and then the deep voice of Commander
Walters boomed from the speaker.
"Spaceport control to _Polaris_. Come in, Steve."
In a few brief sentences, Strong outlined Tom's plan of action to the
Academy commander. The commander's face on the teleceiver widened into a
grin, then broke out in a hearty laugh.
"What's that, sir?" asked Captain Strong.
"Very simple, Steve. All of us--all the Academy top brass--develop a
foolproof test for cadet maneuvers. And then your young Corbett makes us
look like amateurs."
"But didn't you expect one side or the other to win?" asked Strong.
"Of course, but not like this. We've been expecting a couple of days of
maneuver, with both sides making plenty of mistakes that we could call
them on. But here Corbett wraps the whole thing up before we can get our
pencils sharpened."
"Better stuff cotton in Corbett's ears before he hears all this," rasped
Roger Manning over the intercom. "Or his head'll be too big to go
through the hatch."
"Quiet, Manning," came Astro's voice from the power deck. "Your mouth
alone is bigger than Tom's head'll ever be."
"Look, you Venusian ape--" began Roger, but Commander Walters' voice
boomed out again. His face on the teleceiver screen was serious now.
"Attention! Attention all units! The battle has been fought and won on
the chart screen of the rocket cruiser _Polaris_. The Luna City attack
has been repelled and the invading fleet wiped out. All units and ships
will return to Space Academy at once. Congratulations to all and end
transmission."
The commander's face faded from the screen. Captain Strong turned to Tom.
"Good work," he said.
He was interrupted by a crackle of static from the teleceiver. A face
suddenly appeared on the screen--a man's face, frightened and tense.
"S O S." The voice rang out through the control deck.
"This is an S O S. Space passenger ship _Lady Venus_ requests assistance
immediately. Position is sector two, chart one hundred three. Emergency.
We must have--"
The screen went blank, the voice stopped as though cut off by a knife.
Strong frantically worked the teleceiver dials to re-establish contact.
"_Polaris_ to _Lady Venus_," he called. "Come in _Lady Venus_. Rocket
cruiser _Polaris_ calling _Lady Venus_. Come in! Come in!"
There was no answer. The passenger ship's instruments had gone dead.