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"Look 'ere, guv'nor," she said, "that's my name, and I 'as a back room behind old Connel's fish-shop next door but one to 'ere. If yer want to give away things to them as wants 'em, wot price a new skirt 'ere, eh?" A woman from the rear leaned over to Brooks. "The 'ussy," she said. "Don't you take no notice of 'er, sir. We all knows 'er and precious little good there is ter know."
He knew where his unit mates were, but up ahead, in the gleaming Tower of Galileo, was his second target, Captain Strong. His skipper had to listen to him, had to be sympathetic and help him catch the saboteur. It was the only way Tom could clear his own name and free Roger and Astro. "Scott!" "Here!" bellowed a grizzled spaceman in reply to Major Connel's call. "Augutino!" "Here!" "Jones!
"A cup of hot tea will fix you up fine," Tom reassured them, and leaving the ship on automatic control, he went into the small galley off the control deck and brewed three cups of tea. In a few moments the elderly couple felt better, and Tom told them of the Nationalists' base and Connel's plan to wreck the radar station at noon the next day. Both Mr. and Mrs.
"Never thought I'd be out in space ducking hot projectiles to save old Blast-off Connel's hide." "Neither did I," said Tom. "But here we are." Stepping into the air lock, they quickly equalized the pressure and a moment later climbed out on the hull. "See him, Roger?" asked Tom over the helmet intercom. "Not yet," replied Roger. "I see him," called Astro from the control deck.
As he neared Major Connel's quarters, he heard Connel's voice. He stopped and listened outside the door. "It's a beautiful job of calculation, Tom," Connel was saying. "I don't see how you and Higgins could have done it in so short a time. And without an electronic computer to aid you. Beautiful job really excellent but I'm afraid it's too risky." "I've already talked to Astro and Mr.
Connel's voice thundered through their headset phones. "Boy, is he blasting his jets!" commented Roger. "Yeah," grunted Astro. "He should have to dig this blasted hole!" "Well, this is where it's got to go. If the ground is hard, then it's our tough luck," said Roger. "If we stick it anywhere else, it might mess up the whole operation." Astro nodded and continued to dig.
Connel's voice roared over the intercom. "You were ordered to report to the control deck in five minutes! You are already one minute late! Report to the control deck on the double and I mean double!" Loring and Mason laughed. "Old 'Blast-off' Connel's really got your number, eh, kid?" "Ah, rocket off, you pinheaded piece of space junk! It didn't take him long to dampen your tubes!"
"Better get back," said Tom. He flipped the audiophone switch in the jet boat and spoke into a small mike. "Jet boat one to Polaris. Jet boat one to Polaris. Cadet Corbett to Major Connel." There was a crackle of static and then Connel's voice, vibrant and clear, filled the small cabin. "Corbett!" he roared. "By the craters of Luna, I couldn't contact you. Return to the Polaris on the double!"
They had a job to do, and they went about it silently, efficiently, and surely. Astro stood up, the small spade in his hand hanging loosely at his side. He watched Roger and Alfie bring the last of the reactor units from Major Connel's jet boat. They gently lowered it into the hole and stepped back while Shinny, under the watchful eyes of Major Connel, set the fuse.
He pointed to the ragged remains of Astro's jungle suit dangling on the near-by thornbush. The blood was stiff on the material. The three Earthmen stared at the suit, each too horrified to speak. Connel's face was set in hard lines as he finally found his voice and growled, "Our search is over. Let's get back to our job."
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