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Updated: May 29, 2025
In one hand he carried a wad of waste cotton with which he continually polished the surfaces of the atomic motors, while his eyes constantly searched the many gauges in front of him for the slightest sign of engine failure. "Never mind bringing anything up to Manning. I'll eat his share." Astro had deliberately turned the intercom on so Roger on the radar deck might hear.
For that matter, I wondered why we didn't grow tallow-wax by carniculture. We could grow any other animal matter we wanted. I'd often thought of that. The monster wasn't showing any inclination to come to the surface again, and finally Joe Kivelson's voice came out of the intercom: "Run in the guns and seal ports. Secure for submersion. We're going down and chase him up."
The image of the space station loomed large and clear. "Approaching a little too fast, I think, sir," volunteered Tom. "Shall I make the adjustment?" "What's the range?" asked Connel. Tom named a figure. "Ummmmh," mused Connel. He glanced quickly over the dials and then nodded in assent. Tom turned once more to the intercom. "Control deck to power deck," he called.
The teacher, however, snared the cadet in a neo-judo hold that no neophyte, however skilled or strong could break. He dragged the struggling Hanlon up to the rostrum and, with his elbow, activated the intercom. "Ask the commandant to come to room 12-B. A cadet, caught cheating at examinations, has mutinied."
"Where is Major Elbertson?" "In sick bay, sir. He got a big radiation dose " The captain flipped the intercom key. "Calling Major Elbertson in sick bay. Report to the bridge on the double, no matter what your condition. This is the captain speaking." The intercom came alive at far end. "This is Dr. Green, Captain Andersen. Major Elbertson is unconscious. He cannot report for duty.
I called Bill over the intercom right away and he ordered me to get into a space suit and wait for him in the air lock. I heard him shut off the generators but that's all. The reactant blew and I must've been knocked cold, because the next thing I remember was this big ugly face bending over me ordering me to wake up." Tom grinned at Astro. "I see," mused the major aloud. "Now about the baffles.
"The man who dreamed up the countdown was a Brain," Bessie could hear Mike muttering over his open intercom, "but the man who thought up the hold was a pure genius." "Holding the countdown." It was Bessie's official voice. "It is T minus thirty and holding. Why are you goons moving that stuff ahead of schedule and without notifying balance control? What do you think this is, a rock-bound coast?
"We'll be entering the atmosphere in a minute, Alfie," yelled Tom into the intercom. "Stand by to give range for touchdown." "Radar deck, aye," reported Alfie. "Range at present five hundred miles." "Power deck, check in!" yelled Tom. "Power deck, aye," returned Astro. "All set below?" asked Tom. "All set," said Astro. "Reduce thrust to minimum!" shouted Tom.
"Yeah, but not because we're trying to save the ship." "Then why?" asked Tom. "He's afraid of losing a good unit!" Tom smiled and turned to the control board. "Energize the cooling pumps!" he bawled to Astro over the intercom. The slow whine of the pumps began to build to a shrieking pitch. "Pumps in operation, Tom," said Astro. "Cut in nose braking rockets," ordered Tom.
I just checked over Tom's figures on thrust, sir, and I'm not sure, but I think we've passed the point of safety." "Thanks, Roger," said Connel. He turned to the intercom. "Power deck, check in!" "Power deck, aye," said Astro. "Loring and Mason there?" asked Connel. "Yes, sir. I'm putting them right to work in the radiation chamber, sir.
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