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As command cadet of the Polaris, Tom climbed up to the control deck, and strapping himself into the command pilot's seat, prepared to get under way. Astro, the power-deck cadet who could "take apart a rocket engine and put it back together again with his thumbs," thundered below to the atomic rockets he loved more than anything else in the universe.
On the power deck, Astro had questioned a rocketman closely about the arrangement of the baffling around one of the firing chambers. The power-deck officer, Shilo Speed, heard Astro's questions, agreed with the cadet, and made the rocketman rearrange the baffling. Then, on the control deck, the pilot had been careless in maintaining his position with the other ships in the fleet.
Now he was under arrest. He didn't stop to reason why. All he knew was that it was a direct threat to his future as a power-deck officer in the Solar Guard. The two boys felt the metallic thump of something hitting the hull of their rocket scout. They realized immediately that it was the sound of the jet boat coupling on their ship and they turned to face the air-lock hatch.
Kit Barnard worked like a demon to complete the cooling system in his aged ship, and as each ship blasted off on its scheduled run to the Moon, the time for his own flight drew nearer. Kit worked with his chief crewman, Sid Goldberg, a serious, swarthy-faced youngster who rivaled Astro in his love for the power-deck machinery on a spaceship.
"Congratulations, Tom," he said, and turned back to his book, adding bitterly, "but if I don't get these tables down by this afternoon for my power-deck manual, you're sunk." "Say what's going on here?" asked Tom. "Where's Roger? Didn't he help you with them?" "He left. Said he had to see someone before taking his radar-bridge manual. He helped me a little.
Want to come up topside and take a hand?" "Be right there, Roger!" said Astro. He set the power-deck controls on automatic, and then, with a quick look around to make sure everything was shipshape, he climbed the ladder to the control deck.
"The Solar Guard spends a fortune to develop a foolproof space torpedo and two hot-shot cadets come along and get away from the blasted thing! Why haven't you told this to anyone before?" "Why er " stammered Tom, "we've never had the chance to prove it, sir." Behind them, the power-deck hatch suddenly opened and Astro stepped in. "Nice work, Tom!" he called.
"That's as tight as I can get it," he said, breathing heavily. "Or anyone else," said Tom. "All the valve connections broken?" asked Astro. "Yep," replied Roger. "We're sealed tight." "That's it, then," said Tom. "Let's get to the control deck and start blasting!" Astro turned to the power-deck control board and checked the gauges for the last time.
The top rung of the ladder just reached the power-deck emergency hatch which was swung open, like a giant plug, revealing the thickness of the hull, nearly a foot. "Well," roared the red-clad spaceman, "don't you want to climb aboard and see what your ship looks like inside?" "Do we!" cried Tom, and made a headlong dash for the scaffold.
Now the mass in number-three rocket is building and wildcatting itself. If it gets any higher, it'll explode." "Why didn't your power-deck man dump the mass?" asked Strong. "We didn't know it was wildcatting until after he had tried to repair it. And he didn't tighten the bolts enough to keep it from leaking radiation." The young skipper paused. "He lived long enough to warn us, though."
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