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Strong clenched his fists. "Asleep, huh?" he growled. "Get me the Space Knight!" The boy returned to the audioceiver and began calling Miles, but there was no reply. After a few minutes Walters interrupted, "We can't waste any more time here, Steve. We've got to blast off!" "Get hold of Corbett on the Space Lance," said Strong to the spaceman.
A few minutes later Quent appeared on the control deck, forcing Tom ahead of him. "All right," he growled. "What do I do now?" "Did you cast off the other ship?" asked Ross. And when Quent nodded, he jerked his head toward Tom and Roger and barked, "Cover them!" As Quent stood before the two cadets, his gun leveled, Ross strode to the audioceiver and flipped it on.
"Well, hold on just a little bit longer, boy, because the next few minutes might spell the difference between getting out of here and " Tom was cut off by a sudden blast from the loud-speaker of the audioceiver. "This is Commander Walters!" came a clear voice. "I accept your proposal, Miles. But I warn you, if anything has happened to those boys " "No, Commander!" yelled Tom. "It's a trap!"
Again, barring the door behind him, he sat before the audioceiver and began calling the Polaris. "This is Cadet Corbett aboard rocket ship Space Knight in quadrant four, chart C for Charley. Corbett aboard spaceship Space Knight in quadrant four, chart C for Charley! Come in, Commander Walters! Come in!"
"Maybe he can pick up Miles' blip on his radar." Tom made the necessary adjustment on the audioceiver and broadcast the call for the owner-pilot of the Good Company. Finally, after repeated tries, he heard a faint signal and recognized the voice of his unit mate Astro. "What's the matter, Astro?" asked Tom. "I can hardly hear you."
Strong turned to the enlisted spaceman. "Contact the ships and see if everything's all right," he ordered. "Very well, sir," replied the spaceman, turning to the audioceiver microphone. "Spaceport control to rocket ships Space Lance, Space Knight, and Good Company. Come in, please." There was a crackling of static over the loud-speaker and then the calm voice of Tom filled the control tower.
For nearly five days, blasting through space at emergency speed, the Solar Guard captain had tried to contact the satellite, but to no avail. He snapped off the audioceiver and slumped back in his chair, a worried frown on his face. When the second report from the Polaris unit had failed to come in, Strong had received permission from Commander Walters to blast off immediately for Roald.
"Not as long as I have you!" sneered Sinclair. "You're my protection!" "You're wrong," said Tom. "They'll open fire, anyway." "That's the chance I've got to take," said Sinclair. "Now climb up to the control deck and get on the audioceiver. You're going to tell them you're aboard!" Tom walked ahead of the rebel leader toward the control deck, his mind racing.
Then he slumped in despair. The master switch had been removed. It was impossible for him to blast off! He leaped out of the chair and scrambled up the ladder to the radar deck. He flipped on the audioceiver and nervously waited for the tubes to warm up. Nothing happened.
And when he had done all he could, he paced up and down the deck, snapping a greasy wiping rag against his thigh again and again. His face showed the concern he felt for Tom and Roger, and at the same time, there was a questioning look in his eye. The auxiliary loud-speaker of the audioceiver overhead spluttered with static. He stopped to listen.
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