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Updated: May 16, 2025
"Distance one hundred fifty thousand feet," reported Roger. "Looks like an open plain right below us. Maybe we'd better try for it, eh?" "I guess so," said Tom. "Relay your scan down here to the control-deck scanner." Tom gave it a quick glance, saw that there was plenty of room on the plain Roger had mentioned to hold the entire fleet, and turned to Vidac.
Dale told me the other day that she's sure Tom's been giving Roger a few pointers on control-deck operation. And one night I found Manning giving Astro a lecture in compression ratios. Of course, Manning's way of talking is a way that would confuse the Venusian more than it would help him, but at least they weren't snarling at each other." "Hmm," Walters nodded.
"But it just won't come to me." The buzz of the intercom suddenly sounded and Connel reluctantly left Tom to answer it. Roger's voice crackled over the speaker. "I have Commander Walters now, sir. Feeding him down to the control-deck teleceiver." "Oh, all right," replied Connel and turned to Tom. "Come on, Corbett. I want you to report to the commander personally."
You'll pull about three weeks of dry runs before this baby gets five inches off the ground." "I wouldn't be too sure of that, Manning!" Strong's voice boomed out as he climbed up through the control-deck hatch. The three boys immediately snapped to attention. Strong walked around the control deck, fingering the controls lightly. "This is a fine ship," he mused aloud.
Five minutes later he slammed back the sliding door and entered the quarters of 42-D with a lusty shout. "Meet Space Cadet Corbett an Earthworm who's just passed his control-deck manual operations exam!" Astro looked up from a book of tables on astrogation and gave Tom a wan smile.
On his head or the seat of his pants? Seems to me it won't make much difference." Tom laughed at the spectacle of Roger flailing the air helplessly, then suddenly stopped and grabbed Astro by the arm. "Wait, Astro," he called. "Look! There's someone in the ship!" "What?" cried Astro, dropping Roger and turning to the Polaris. The three cadets saw light gleaming from the control-deck viewport.
"I just have, sir," replied Roger in a strained voice. "But it's " "Let me talk to that lame brain of a skipper," interrupted Connel. "By the stars, I'll teach him to " "It's no use, Connel," said a gruff voice over the control-deck loud-speaker. "Even if you duck this torpedo, I've got ten more!" "Who is this?" roared Connel. "Don't you know, Connel? Why, I'm surprised!"
"And you're the tactical wizard that won the space maneuvers recently, singlehanded, eh?" asked Connel, bending down to face Tom. "Our side won, sir. If that answers your question," replied Tom. He was as nervous as Roger and Astro, but he fought for control. He was determined not to be bullied. "I didn't ask you who won!" snapped Connel. "But you're the one just the same. Control-deck cadet, eh?
Aboard the Polaris, the young cadet crew worked swiftly and smoothly to bring their ship to a safe landing. There was Tom Corbett, an average young man in this age of science, who had been selected as the control-deck and command cadet of the Polaris unit after rigid examinations and tests.
Professor Hemmingwell's voice rang over the roar of activity in the hangar as the huge new control panel was lifted along the hull to a large hole that had been cut into the side of the experimental ship at the control-deck level. "Easy does it!" called the professor, standing on the deck and peering through the hole. "Careful now!"
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