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I was certain that it was nothing short of ridiculous for legionaries in hard fighting condition and well fed to consume one hundred and one days in marching from their landing-port on the coast of Gaul to Placentia: ten miles a day was despicable marching even for lazy and soft-muscled recruits; any legionaries should make fifteen, miles at day under any conditions, earnest men keyed up to hurry should have made twenty and might often march twenty-five miles between camps.
"Permission to touch down granted, Polaris. You are to line up on approach to landing-port seven repeat seven. Am now sending out guiding radar beam. Can you read beam?" Tom turned to the intercom. "Have you got the station's guiding beam, Roger?" "All lined up, Tom," replied Roger from the radar bridge.
"Stand by for maneuvering, Astro, and reduce your main drive thrust to minimum space speed." "Space station traffic control to rocket cruiser Polaris. Come in, Polaris. This is traffic control on space station to Polaris," the audio teleceiver crackled. "Rocket cruiser Polaris to space station and traffic control. Request touchdown permission and landing-port number," replied Tom.
Tom brought his fist up, with the thumb extended and wiped it across his chest in the traditional spaceman's signal that all was clear. "I didn't scratch one of 'em, sir," he said, smiling. "Good enough," said Connel. "Keep it that way." He watched the monitor screen as the liner San Francisco settled into landing-port eleven.
Tom Corbett, while he had gained the respect of many elder spacemen, was discovering that a cadet's life got no easier as time went on. He wondered fleetingly how Roger and Astro were making out, and then he began to think of some questions. Beside him, oblivious of his presence, Stefens continued to spout directions. "Monitor three, take rocket scout out of landing-port eight.
"Polaris unit by order of Major Connel stand by to blast off immediately. This is first warning! Pack your gear and stand by to blast off immediately." Tom, Astro, and Alfie got up, and with the image of Roger fresh in their minds, made their way to the landing-port deck where the great gleaming spaceship was slung on magnetic cradles. They were met at the hatch by Major Connel.
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