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"They could still do a lot of damage if they hit that ship," asserted Tom. "And how do you expect to aim them?" demanded Connel. "There's not enough juice in the batteries to steer them!" "We'll just fire them straight ahead, sir," broke in Roger. "Look!" he continued, pointing to the scanner screen. "Devers' ship is just circling us now. And he's on the same plane of the ecliptic.
Then turning to the radar scanner, the all-seeing eye of the ship, he began a slow, deliberate tracking of each circuit in the maze of wiring. And below on the power deck, Astro, stripped to the waist, a leather belt filled with the rocketman's wrenches and tools slung around his hips, tuned up the mighty atomic engines.
The pilot was just in the process of telling him that he was crazy when one of the scanners in an aft blister called in; he and the other scanner could also see the UFO. Being a photo ship, the RB-29 had cameras loaded cameras so the logical thing to do would be to take a picture, but during a UFO sighting logic sometimes gets shoved into the background.
Moments later, when the huge round ball of the mother planet loomed large on the scanner screen, Roger's voice reported over the intercom, "Academy spaceport control gives us approach orbit 074 for touchdown on Ramp Twelve, Tom." "074 Ramp Twelve," repeated Tom. "Got it!" "Twelve!" roared Astro suddenly over the intercom. "Couldn't you make it closer to the Academy than that, Manning?
But the basic pattern is there to study. And with the scanner to sort out those record strips did you adjust them, Soriki?" "They're all ready for you to push the button. If the scanner can read them, it will. I got all that speech the chief, or king, or whatever he was, made just before we left." "Good, very good!"
"Steve I mean, Captain Strong. The rest of the fleet! It's coming in! Attacking from top-side!" "By the craters of Luna, you're right!" yelled the young Solar Guard captain, as he saw the white blips on the scanner screen. "O.K., it's time to stop running and fight!"
"Don't forget to let me know when I have to cut down on thrust!" "Take it easy, spaceboy," snapped Roger. "You'll know in plenty of time!" He turned back to the radar scanner and continued the never-ending sweep of space ahead. After a week of checking and reconditioning the Space Devil in the wild Venusian jungles, Roger had become more and more disgusted with himself.
Alien body bearing zero-one-five, one-point-seven degrees over plane of the ecliptic. On intersecting orbit. Change course two degrees, hold for fifteen seconds, then resume original heading. Will compensate for change nearer destination!" Roger watched the scanner a moment longer.
"Don't tell me that's all they've got!" exclaimed Strong. "Why, we still have the rest of the fleet coming in at 1205!" Suddenly Tom froze in his seat. Before him on the radar scanner he saw a new cluster of white blips, seemingly coming from nowhere. They were enemy ships, hurtling spaceward to meet the Solar Guard fleet. "Captain Strong! Look! More of them. From secret ramps in the jungle!"
The ship would never get under way again. Up on the radar bridge, Roger was about to turn on the radar scanner when Tom appeared and stopped him. "Wait a while, Roger," he said. "We may need the power for something else." "What, for instance?" snorted Roger. "That ship is still out there, probably closing in for the kill." "A blasted lot we can do about it," Roger growled.
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