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Updated: June 27, 2025
Only a hundred and fifty feet away the tyrannosaurus, hearing Connel's voice, suddenly stopped. Its head weaved back and forth as though it suspected a trap. "Fire!" roared Connel. Tom and Roger fired together, but at the same moment the monster lunged toward Connel's position. Both shots missed, the energy charges merely scorching its sides.
One of the green-clad men released Hilmarc from the effects of Connel's ninth shot and he stepped forward to stare straight into Connel's eyes. "I know you can hear me, Major. I want to compliment you on your shooting. But your brave resistance now is as futile as the resistance of the entire Solar Guard in the near future." Hilmarc smiled arrogantly and stepped back.
Circling around the ship to the stern, the jet boat, under Major Connel's sure touch, stopped fifty feet from the still glowing, exhaust tubes. He and the three cadets stared out at a small metallic boxlike object attached to the underside of the stabilizer fin. "What do you suppose it is?" asked Astro. "I don't know," replied Roger, "but it sure doesn't belong there.
"Major Connel's taking the Polaris to Venus to complete some work with Professor Higgleston in the Venus lab," explained Strong. "If you can get back to the Academy before he blasts off, he might give you a ride." "No, thanks!" said Roger. "I'd rather sit here." "Wait a minute, Roger," said Tom. "We're on leave, remember? And it's only a short hop to Venus." "Yeah, hotshot," added Astro.
And if the other planters are going to rebuild your buildings, that's fine and charitable of them." Suddenly Connel's voice became harsh. "That does not, however, erase the fact that a group of uniformed men, armed with paralo-ray guns and with ships equipped with blasters, attacked you! Atomic blasters, Mr. Sinclair, are not bought at the local credit exchange.
"I've decided to sustain Major Connel's action. You are both grounded for the next twelve months. Earth months!" "What?" shouted Loring, jumping to his feet. He banged his fist down on the desk and leaned over, his face close to Strong's. "You can't do that to us!" Captain Strong didn't move. "I can," he said coldly. "And I have." "But but " Mason began to whine. "But space flight is all we know!
Connel's face turned red and he glanced quickly at Walters, whose face was approaching the same color. Neither expected such a comment from a scientist. "Professor," said Connel heavily, leaning forward in his chair, "I assure you Steve Strong is not holding their hands. In fact, I would hate to be in those cadets' shoes right now." Hemmingwell grunted and drew back from Connel's burning glare.
"To whom, sir?" "That's what I said, Manning." Connel's voice dropped to a deep sarcastic purr. "To whom?" "I was ah talking to Earth, sir." "Official business, I presume?" "You mean official like here on the station, sir?" "Official, like here on the station, Manning," replied Connel in almost a kindly tone. "No, sir."
He looked over at the old man fondly. "Say, Nick," said Connel, addressing the man by his given name for the first time, "you remember the time it took me four hours to find that bottle of rocket juice you hid on that old Titan freighter?" Shinny cackled, his thin voice coming over the headphones of the others as well as Connel's. "I sure do, Lou!" replied Shinny, using Connel's first name.
"Feel better," he gasped, "than I've felt in weeks!" Astro grinned. One of Connel's front teeth was missing. Astro leaned against the wall and pointed to the canyon wall where the columns of Solar Guard Marines were making their way down into the base under heavy covering fire from above. "Won't be long now!" "Come on," said Connel.
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