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After you blast off " Brett's voice dropped to a whisper and Quent's eyes opened with understanding, and then his rugged features broke out into a grin as Brett continued talking. Finally Brett straightened up. "I'm going on out to Titan now to see if things are O.K. You got everything clear?" "Everything's clear," said Quent. "And you know something, Charley?
They followed me out to the warehouse and down into the mine. Good thing we caught them, or we'd be on our way to a prison asteroid right now." Quent glared over at Tom. "And Charley spilled the beans about the whole thing, eh?" "Not exactly, but the Solar Guard knows enough to be suspicious," replied Ross.
"We know enough to put you on a prison asteroid," challenged Tom. "Freeze 'em, it is," said Quent. "We'll get the ship loaded and decide what to do with them later." He pressed the trigger on his ray gun. There was a harsh crackling sound and Tom and Astro stiffened into immobility, every nerve and muscle deadened.
"Pretty confident your man will win, eh?" "Most assuredly," said Brett with elaborate sarcasm. "I would never have entered a ship in the race if I didn't think I would win. Though, in all fairness, I think I should have received the contract to haul the crystal without this extra effort." "What kind of reactant is Quent Miles using in that ship of yours?" asked Walters sharply. Brett smiled.
"Careful of your accusations, Barnard." "I'm not accusing you, I'm asking you." "See you in space." Quent laughed, turning to leave, not answering the question. "But then, again, maybe I won't see you." He disappeared into the darkness of the night. "The nerve of that guy," growled Tom. "Yes," Kit agreed, shrugging his shoulders.
"That's all right with me, sir," the young cadet said excitedly. "This is something I'll be able to tell my grandchildren riding with the hottest spaceman in the hottest race through space." Quent Miles spun around, his paralo-ray gun leveled. He saw a figure enter through the hatch, but when light revealed the face he relaxed. "Oh, it's you!" he grumbled.
"And I'll have to take your word for it until Manning can answer for himself." "How did you manage to make it from Earth to Ganymede without refueling, Quent?" asked Kit slowly. "And what have you got in your ship to get that kind of speed?" Miles' lips curled in a twisted grin. "That's my secret, spaceman," he said, turning away. "Well, I've got to report to my boss. Great race, Kit.
And don't you forget it!" He turned to his brother. "Come on over here, Quent, and I'll tell you what we're going to do." When the two spacemen were out of earshot, Tom turned to Roger. "How do you feel, Roger?" "As if I'm going to shake myself apart," replied the radar-deck cadet, his teeth still chattering from the effects of the paralo ray.
"Especially when you run up against Charley Brett," said Kit. The cadets looked at the veteran spaceman inquiringly, but he was not smiling, and they suddenly felt a strange chill of apprehension. "It's about time you got here!" Charley Brett glared angrily at his chief pilot, Quent Miles, as he sauntered into the office and flopped into a chair. "I had a heavy date last night.
Kit Barnard faced the commander and began to explain. "We were both curious about Quent Miles' ship, sir," he said. "We wondered what kind of equipment he had to get that kind of speed, so we went aboard and looked her over. She looks as if she just made a routine flight.
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