A thousand spaceships, freighters, converted luxury liners, auxiliary
supply vessels, rocket cruisers, destroyers and scouts, all led by the
_Polaris_, blasted in even formation through the last charted regions of
the solar system. Inside the gleaming ships the colonists had settled
down for the long voyage to the new satellite of Roald. Their quarters
were cramped and uncomfortable. There was very little to do and their
only entertainment was the shipboard stereos. Many spent endless hours
at the long-range telescanners watching the sun star Wolf 359, seeing it
come closer and closer.
Aboard the _Polaris_, Tom, Roger, and Astro worked an endless tour of
duty, maneuvering the great fleet of ships into ordered formation so
that any vessel could be found without difficulty. Now that the fleet
was in position, and the early confusion of forming up was over, they
had hoped for a little rest, but were disappointed when Vidac suddenly
ordered them to report to his quarters.
Standing at the hatch outside of Vidac's room, Tom and Roger waited for
Astro as he climbed up the ladder to join them. The big cadet finally
made the top and stood breathing heavily.
"By the rings of Saturn," he grumbled, "I'm so tired I could sleep right
here. Right now!"
"Yeah," growled Roger. "You'd think Vidac would give us a break after
what we've done."
"We'll have plenty of time to rest on this trip," said Tom. "This is
just the beginning. I'll bet by the time we reach Roald we'll be wishing
we had something to do to pass away the time."
He turned and pressed the annunciator button and the hatch slid open.
The three cadets entered the room and snapped to attention.
"_Polaris_ unit reporting as ordered, sir," said Tom.
Vidac swung around in his chair and stared up at the three cadets, a
hint of a smile curling his lips.
"You've done a fine job, boys," he said. "The fleet is in good
formation." He paused as he settled back in his chair. "But I'm not the
one who believes in idle hands. I've assigned you to Professor Sykes. He
needs help in charting the unexplored regions of space we're
approaching. And you three need that kind of training. Report to him in
one hour."
"One hour," gasped Roger. "But we're completely blasted out!"
"Yes, sir," agreed Astro. "Couldn't we log some sack time before we
start another assignment?"
Vidac stood up and faced them. "You might as well learn right now," he
said sharply, "that when I give an order I expect it to be carried out
without suggestions, complaints, or whining excuses!"
"But--!" stammered Roger.
Tom quickly stepped forward. His back ramrod straight, he saluted the
lieutenant governor. "We understand, sir."
He executed a perfect about-face and, followed by Astro and Roger, he
left the lieutenant governor's quarters.
Outside, the three cadets walked wearily toward the messroom just off
the control deck. After preparing a hasty cup of tea, they sat about the
table silently, each thinking about the long trip ahead of them and the
difficulties they were sure to encounter with Vidac. They all three
jumped when Jeff Marshall, Professor Sykes's aide, entered and boomed a
cheerful greeting.
"Hi, fellas!"
"Hiya," muttered Tom. Astro and Roger merely nodded.
"Say!" cried Jeff, his usually cheerful face showing concern. "What's
the matter with you three guys? You look as though someone told you
there isn't any Moon!"
"Worse than that," said Roger. "Vidac just assigned us to work with
Professor Sykes on charting the new space regions."
Jeff smiled. "Nothing wrong with that. The old professor isn't so bad.
He sounds worse than he really is."
"Listen," growled Astro, "you don't have to tell me what Professor Sykes
is like. I had a class with him at the Academy. That guy is so sour,
vinegar is sweet by comparison."
Astro's outburst was said with such fierce conviction that Tom, Roger,
and Jeff burst out laughing.
"It isn't that we mind working with Professor Sykes," said Tom. "He's a
real brain and we could learn a lot from him, but--"
"But what?" asked Jeff.
"It's the way Vidac has suddenly--well, taken over around here. We're
supposed to be under the direct orders of Governor Hardy."
"Well, Vidac is Hardy's executive officer," said Jeff.
"Yeah," muttered Roger. "We're finding that out, the hard way."
"I still can't understand why Governor Hardy would make him lieutenant
governor, with his background," mused Tom.
Jeff grinned. "You three guys have been jockeying with so many space
crawlers since you came to the Academy, you're suspicious of everyone
you meet. I'm surprised you haven't decided that I'm an arch space
criminal myself!"
The three cadets smiled. Jeff Marshall was so gentle and mild, his
manner so quietly humorous, it was impossible to picture him as any kind
of a criminal.
During the few minutes they had left, they casually discussed the
chances of the senior space cadets against the enlisted guardsmen in a
forthcoming mercuryball game, and then went up to the forward
compartment of the _Polaris_, which served as a temporary observatory
for Professor Sykes.
The Chief Astrophysicist of Space Academy, Professor Barnard Sykes, was
a man of great talent and even greater temper. Referred to as Barney by
the cadet corps, he was held in high regard and downright fear. There
were few cadets who had escaped his scathing tongue when they had made a
mistake and practically the entire student body had, at one time or
another, singly and in unison, devoutly wished that a yawning hole would
open up and swallow them when he began one of his infamous tirades. Even
perfection in studies and execution by a cadet would receive a mere
grunt from the cantankerous professor. Such temperament was permissible
at the Academy by an instructor only because of his genius and for no
other reason. And Professor Sykes fitted the bill. It was by sheer
devotion to his work and single-mindedness of purpose that he was able
to become a leading scientist in his field. Professor Sykes had been
assigned, at his request, to the Roald expedition. As the leading
scientist, it was his job to evaluate every new discovery made during
the trip out to the distant satellite, and later make observations on
the colony itself. Scientifically, and in a sense ultimately, the
success or failure of the Roald expedition would rest on his round
hunched shoulders.
When the three cadets and Jeff Marshall entered the observatory, they
found Professor Sykes bending over a calculating machine checking some
figures. Apparently finding a mistake, he muttered to himself angrily
and started over again. Roger stepped forward.
"I can handle a calculator pretty well, sir," Roger said. "You want me
to do it for you?"
Sykes whirled around and glared at the blond-haired cadet. "What's your
name?" he snapped.
"Why--Cadet Manning, sir," replied Roger.
"Cadet Manning, do you see this calculator?" Sykes pointed to the
delicate instrument that could add, subtract, divide, and multiply, in
fractions and whole numbers, as well as measure the light years in
sidereal time.
"Yes, sir," said Roger.
"Cadet Manning," continued Sykes, "I perfected that machine. Built the
first one myself. Now offhand, wouldn't you say I would know how to
operate it?"
"Yes, sir," stammered Roger. "But I just wanted to help, sir."
"When I need your help I'll ask for it!" snorted the little professor.
He turned to Jeff. "What are they doing here? You know I don't like to
be interrupted when I'm making observations!"
Jeff smiled slowly. "They've been assigned to work with you, sir.
They're your new assistants."
"My assistants!" screamed Sykes. "What space-blasting idiot got the idea
that I needed any assistants?"
"The lieutenant governor, sir," said Jeff.
"Oh, he did, did he!" Sykes turned to the teleceiver, flipped it on,
and waited impatiently for the machine to warm up.
In a moment Vidac's face came into view. Before the lieutenant governor
could say a word, Sykes began to scream at him.
[Illustration]
"What's the idea of sending these brainless Space Cadets to me!
Assistants--bah! Can't you find something else for them to do?" bawled
Sykes. "Is my work considered so unimportant that I should be impeded by
these--these--" He sputtered and turned to wave at Tom, Roger, and Astro
who still stood at rigid attention.
Sykes got no further. Vidac simply cut off his teleceiver and left the
professor staring into a blank screen. His face became beet red, and he
screamed at Jeff Marshall. "Get them out of here! Put them to
work--scrubbing the decks, cleaning up the place, anything! But keep
them out of my way!" Then wagging a finger in Roger's face, he screamed
his last warning. "Don't ever speak to me again, unless I speak to you
_first!_"
Smarting under the continuous blast of anger from the professor, Roger
could no longer restrain himself. Slowly, with the calm deliberate
manner and slow casual drawl that characterized him at his sarcastic
best, the cadet stepped forward. He saluted, and with his face a bare
six inches from Sykes, said evenly, "To speak to you, sir, under any
conditions, sir, would be such a stroke of bad luck, sir, that I
wouldn't wish it on the last spaceman in the world, sir." With another
curt salute he wheeled smartly and walked out of the room.
Flabbergasted, Professor Sykes could manage no more than a hoarse
bubbling sound and he finally turned to Jeff Marshall, waving his arms
violently. "Get them out of here--get them out of here. Get them out!"
The sergeant nodded quickly at Tom and Astro, who, repressing smiles,
saluted and followed Roger out of the observatory.
Within the hour, Professor Sykes was still screaming loudly, this time
to Governor Hardy himself. Standing before his desk the eccentric
scientist babbled his complaint of Vidac's rebuff and Roger's outrageous
insolence.
"I won't stand for it, Governor! My work is more important than having
to wipe the noses of three loudmouthed sassy cadets! And as for
that--that man Vidac, if he ever turns off the teleceiver again when I'm
talking to him, I'll go to the Solar Council itself. I'm an officer of
the Solar Guard and demand respect!"
His harangue concluded, Sykes turned and stalked toward the hatch.
"Just a moment," called Hardy, stepping around the desk to confront the
little scientist. "All of us are assigned to important jobs," he said
calmly. "Yours is scientific research; the cadets have a specific job of
education; I am the co-ordinator of the whole project and Lieutenant
Governor Vidac is my immediate executive officer. We all have to work
together. Let's see if we can't do it a little more smoothly, eh?" Hardy
smiled and turned back to his chair. "But one thing more, Sykes. If
there are any more petty disagreements, please settle them with Vidac.
Don't come up here again, unless I order you to!"
"_You_ order _me_," gasped Sykes.
"That's all, Sykes!" said Hardy coldly, picking up some papers in an
obvious gesture of dismissal. His fury redoubled, the professor backed
out of the room and hurried below to Vidac's quarters. Expecting another
cold interview, he was surprised when Vidac met him with a smile and
asked him to enjoy a cup of coffee with him.
"No need for us to antagonize each other over the foolish mistakes and
bunglings of the cadets, Professor," said Vidac evenly. "I apologize for
cutting you off, but I make it a point never to talk to a man when he's
angry. Come, sit down, and have a cup of coffee. I'm sure we can work
out the answer." He paused and then added pointedly, "Without bothering
Governor Hardy."
"Yes--yes--of course," said Sykes, accepting the proffered cup.
Within a half-hour, Vidac had Sykes laughing at his jokes and stories,
and when they parted, the professor's temper had abated. When the
scientist finally left, Vidac turned to the ship's intercom and paged
the cadets. A few minutes later they entered his quarters for the second
time that evening.
Vidac was ready and waiting when they entered the room and came to
attention. He leaned back against his desk and looked at each cadet
through half-closed eyes. Finally, after a full minute of silence, he
began to speak.
"I gave you specific instructions to report to Professor Sykes for work
as his assistants," he said in a cold, hard voice. "I also told you I
wanted my order carried out without complaints or whining excuses. You
saw fit to start an argument as soon as you reported, thereby
interrupting his work. The professor went to the governor and
interrupted _his_ work. The professor came to see me, interrupting _my_
work. Three men had to stop their jobs because you didn't feel like
carrying out orders."
"But, sir--" said Tom. "The professor--"
"Shut up, Corbett!" said Vidac coldly. "Don't ever interrupt me again
while I'm talking!"
"Yes, sir!" said Tom through tight lips.
"You boys have been enjoying considerable latitude under Captain Strong.
But I would like to remind you that Captain Strong isn't here. There's
no one here but me. You will do as I say, when I say it, and as long as
I say it. If you don't, I promise you, you will regret it."
"May I speak, sir?" asked Roger.
"No, Manning. I've heard about your tongue. I warn you, never use it on
me, or--" He paused. "Just never use it, that's all."
He walked about the room, but kept his eyes on the cadets. "There's just
one more thing I want you to understand, before you're dismissed. I know
that all three of you refused my application as a colonist originally. I
know what your feelings must be now that I am your superior. And because
I know, I feel I should warn you not to try to express your feelings.
You can't win. You can only lose. If I ever catch you going to Governor
Hardy, by-passing my authority, I'll make your lives so miserable
you'll wish you were dead. Now get out of here!"
As one man, the cadets of the _Polaris_ unit saluted, turned a perfect
about-face, and walked once again from the room. Outside in the
passageway, they relaxed and headed for their quarters.
None of them could say a word, for the simple reason that each of them
was so boiling mad he couldn't speak. Finally, after they had showered
and were climbing into their bunks, Tom spoke for the first time since
leaving Vidac.
"I have to write a report to Captain Strong," he said, when Roger
started to turn out the light. "Better leave it on a while, Roger."
"O.K., Tom," said Roger. "Are you going to tell him what's going on
here?"
"Yeah," growled Astro. "Give him the whole works. There's something
wrong here somewhere. I can understand the professor blasting his jets.
He does that all the time. But I can't understand Vidac acting the way
he does."
"I feel the same way, Astro," said Tom, "but actually what are we going
to say to Captain Strong? So far nothing concrete has happened." He
shook his head. "I'm afraid if I put what happened down on an
audioscriber that it'll look as though we've suddenly become
cry-babies!"
"I'm ready to quit!" said Roger. "Grab a freighter and blast outta here.
A whole year with this guy! There's no telling what he's liable to do!"
Tom leaned over the table and stared at the bulkhead in front of him. He
clenched his fists. Needless to say, he agreed with Roger, he had the
same feelings. But he was powerless to do anything about it.