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Roger reddened and his unit mates laughed. "Oh, yes," continued Connel, "I almost forgot. Report to Commander Walters on the double. You're getting special assignments. I recommended you for this job, so see that you behave yourselves. Especially you, Manning." He turned and disappeared through the doorway, leaving the three cadets staring at each other. "Wowie!" yelled Astro.
"Steve," said Connel patiently, "I know how you feel about those three boys, but tell me, how long can this go on? They constantly take off on their own, without authorization " "But they usually have a good reason," Strong interrupted quickly. "Then why don't they give us the reason first?" Connel shot back.
I'm going to put you through your paces on hyperdrive and the operation of the transmitter." "Then we're still going to make the trip to Tara, sir?" asked Tom. "We certainly are, Corbett," replied Connel. "In two hours another cadet is arriving from the Academy to replace Roger. His name's Alfie Higgins. Perhaps you know him." Tom smiled. "Yes, sir, we know him," he replied.
"You certainly deserve an answer to that question," said Commander Walters warmly. "You've contributed your services to this operation absolutely blindly. Now you should know everything." He paused and looked at Hemmingwell and Connel, who nodded in return. "Carter," he resumed, "we are going to create a spaceship that can launch a large projectile filled with cargo and send it to any small area."
"Did he ask you if you had read the print?" asked Connel. "No, sir," replied Troy. "If he had, I would have told him that I had." "Now," said Connel, "did you have anything to do with the so-called accident to the oscillating timing device?" "No, sir." "Do you know who did?" "No, sir." "We can put you under drugs, you know, and get the truth out of you," warned Connel.
"She's junk-jinxed," said the man, using the expression of spacemen who believed a ship with a suspicious accident record should be junked because it was jinxed. "Junk-jinxed!" cried Connel, amazed. "Preposterous," snorted Professor Hemmingwell. "Why, you helped build this ship, Scotty! Do you doubt the work you've put into her? Or the work of your friends?"
If he holds that course " "He'll cross our bow!" exclaimed Astro excitedly. "A perfect shot!" "Ridiculous!" shouted Connel. "Preposterous! It'll never work in a million light years! He'll fire another torpedo and we'll be blasted into space dust!" "But we can try it, can't we, sir?" asked Tom, grinning. "Of course we can!" roared Connel.
He turned away from the mike and fired the starboard jets full blast, making a sweeping curve in space and heading the Polaris back to Junior. "There's only one answer, boys," said Connel. "Loring and Mason have escaped and taken over the ship. I can't think of any other reason Tom would abandon us like this." The jet boat was crowded. Alfie, the smallest, was sitting on Astro's lap.
"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.
At that moment Connel noticed a jet car racing across the spaceport toward the Polaris. As it drew near, he saw the insigne of the Solar Guard on the hood. His eyes widened hopefully for a second. "Humph," he grunted, "this may be him now!" "If it is," cautioned Devers, "go easy on the boy." "We'll see, we'll see."
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