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Updated: May 16, 2025
"Well I mean what specifically?" asked Tom softly. "For instance, I've got to find the ratio for compression on the main firing tubes, using a given amount of fuel, heading for a given destination, and taking a given time for the passage." "But that's control-deck operations as well as astrogation and power!" exclaimed Tom. "Yeah I know," answered Astro, "but I've still got to be able to do it.
Before Connel could comment on Tom's startling revelation, they heard the sound of angry voices just outside the control-deck hatch. "That must be Astro and Roger bringing in Barret," said Tom with a grin. The hatch clanked open and Astro appeared, carrying Roger under one arm and Barret under the other.
Tom and Astro followed the blond cadet through the darkened passages of the dead ship, and after digging a small pile of sand away from the control-deck hatch, found themselves once more amid the jumble of the wrecked instruments. For the first time in three days, the boys saw sunlight streaking through the crystal port. "I told you," cried Astro triumphantly.
"Remain there until the tube is returned to you in the red slot. Take it back to your desk." She paused and glanced down at her desk. "Now, there are four possible classifications for a cadet. Control-deck officer, which includes leadership and command. Astrogation officer, which includes radar and communications. And power-deck officer for engine-room operations.
Shinny, nothing will go wrong!" "Watch your step. That Loring is a smart cookie!" Roger turned into the passageway and made his way silently to the control-deck hatch. He peered around the edge of the hatch and saw Loring sitting in front of the teleceiver screen, his back toward Roger.
Roger's voice blasted through the intercom from the radar deck. "There's the biggest hunk of space junk I've ever seen bearing down on us!" Tom flipped on the control-deck scanner of the rocket scout quickly, estimated range, angle, and approach of the onrushing asteroid, and called to Astro on the power deck. "Emergency course change!" he bellowed.
"The control-deck logbook contains classified information, Marshall. You know that. I won't say you're lying about reasons for looking at it, but that does not excuse the fact that you did look at it without my permission. I'm confining you to the brig for ten days." Jeff didn't bat an eyelash.
"Relay the pickup to the control-deck scanner, Roger," he ordered. "Let me take a look at that thing." In a moment the thin sweeping white line on the control-deck scanner swept around the green surface of the screen, picking out the blip that marked the meteor. Tom watched it for a moment and then barked into the intercom, "Stand by to execute change course!"
Then he added grudgingly, "That was as fine a job of control-deck operations as I've seen. Keep up the good work, spaceman." Tom gulped. The unexpected compliment caught him off guard. And he was even more pleased that for the first time Connel had referred to him as spaceman! "I'll be needed at the space station commander's quarters for a while, Corbett," said Connel.
"Relay it down here to control-deck scanner, Manning," ordered Strong. "Ummmh!" murmured the captain when the screen began to glow. "I'm pretty sure that's her. Here's that assumed position Roger worked up, Tom. Check it against this one here on the scanner." Tom quickly computed the position of the object on the scanner and compared it to the position Roger had given them previously.
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