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"Well, we're doing an important job, Roger," replied Tom. "And doing it well, or Major Connel wouldn't leave us alone so much. How're you making out with the new equipment?" "That toy?" sneered Roger. "I gave it a look, checked the circuits once, and knew it inside out. It's so simple a child could have built one!" "Oh, sure," scoffed Tom.
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.
He had almost washed out the Polaris unit in the beginning of their Academy training. Major Lou Connel, Senior Line Officer of the Solar Guard, stepped forward when the cadets came to a stop and presented Tom, Roger, and Astro with the emblem of their achievement, a small gold pin in the shape of a rocket ship.
"How in blazes did that thing get out here?" muttered Connel. "We'll have to worry about that later, I'm afraid, sir," replied Tom. "We're going to have our hands full getting away from her. With that magnetic warhead, she'll follow us all over space unless we can throw her off." "Which will take some doing!" grunted Connel, frowning in deep concern. "Hey, Tom!"
Devers laughed. "The last thing you'll do is kiss a space torpedo. Then no more Major Blast-off Connel, no more whimpering Professor Hemmingwell, and most important, no more projectile ship!" And as Devers laughed loudly, Tom threw the ship into another violent turn and cried, "It's no use, Major. I can't duck this one!" "All hands brace for torpedo!" warned Connel.
Yes, thought Connel to himself, as Stefens' voice began to crackle harshly on the audiograph, if Manning was guilty, then Manning would most certainly pay. Connel would see to that. Deep in the heart of the space station, Loring and Mason were huddled over steaming cups of coffee whispering to each other cautiously. "Want more coffee, Mason?" asked Loring.
He turned and gazed helplessly at the gleaming hull of the Polaris. "So they know," he said bitterly. "They're trying to stop me from even reaching Venus." The three cadets looked at each other and then at the burly spaceman, bewilderment in their eyes. "What's this all about, sir?" Roger finally asked. "I'm not at liberty to tell you, Manning," replied Connel.
As Tom manipulated the controls again, the silver ship plunged through space, turning and gyrating in the same series of maneuvers it had performed to escape the first torpedo. But this time the distance separating them was not as great and the torpedo closed in quickly. "Can't you raise that ship yet, Manning?" Connel roared into the intercom.
"Every time I think about that Connel kicking us out of space for twelve months I wanta pound his head in with a wrench!" snarled Loring. Mason snorted. "Well, what's the use of hanging around here?" he asked. "That Connel wouldn't have us aboard the Polaris, even if we were cleared and had our papers. There ain't a thing we can do!" "Don't give up so easy.
"Both Connel and Commander Walters are all set to blast them right out of the service." "I'll do what I can " Suddenly Dr. Dale stopped, her eyes widening with fright. She pointed down the walk behind Strong. Steve turned around and gasped. Connel was striding toward them grimly, followed by four guards carrying a stretcher covered by a blanket.
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