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Updated: May 12, 2025
Tom looked up just in time to break his unit mate's fall, but seeing that it would be useless to stay with him, left him on the deck and turned to flee through the depths of the black ship. "Never mind, Manning!" shouted Quent Miles as he jumped past Roger's body. "We've got to find Corbett. Take the starboard ladder; I'll take the port. Search all the way aft to the exhaust tubes if you have to!"
I wouldn't like to be watched, either, if I had just crawled out from under a rock." Strong suppressed a grin and then turned back to Quent. "That's the way it is, Miles. Commander Walters' orders. There's nothing that can be done now.
He stepped inside, and crossing to the small viewport, looked out over the dead landscape of the tiny world for a sign of Quent Miles. He saw the black-clad spaceman returning toward the hut. Roger held his breath. If Miles went into the hut this time and found him missing, he would know that the cadet was aboard the ship.
There's Quent Miles up ahead of us," he said. "Isn't he scheduled to blast off in the morning?" "Yes. Why?" asked Tom. "He hasn't called us in to inspect his ship yet." "Maybe he isn't ready yet," said Tom. "Probably still souping it up." "I've been watching him. He hasn't done very much." "What do you mean?" "He's the only one working on his ship," replied Roger. "Not one helper." Tom snorted.
Then, feeling that his heart would stop, Captain Strong saw Quent Miles' black ship touch the surface of the spaceport first. Kit Barnard had lost the race. By seconds to be sure, but he had lost the race. A weak cheer arose from the crowds and then quickly died out. To them the race was futile and the prize empty. How could the winning company ship crystal, when soon, none would be mined?
"They can't get out now until someone comes and loosens up those nuts." "Get down below and start transferring that cargo to the Polaris," ordered Ross, slinging the rifle over his shoulder. "I'll get on the audioceiver and tell that cruiser squadron to go back." Quent laughed. "You know, Ross, this is terrific," he chortled.
She found some attractions about the place, and she retired to rest at night more willing to remain. The same routine followed day after day, with slight variation; adding a little more work, and spicing the toil with "words that burn," and fre- quent blows on her head. These were great annoyances to Frado, and had she known where her mother was, she would have gone at once to her.
They saw; they could hear; but they could not move. For nearly three hours they had remained alone in the cavern, frozen in the exact position they were in when Quent Miles had blasted them with his paralo-ray gun. And then Brett and Miles were standing before them again, Miles covering them with his paralo-ray gun. "Why should we break our backs loading the ship?" sneered Miles.
"All set!" "Good." Tom smiled. "We'll try to be back before you blast. We've got to check Quent Miles' ship now." As the three cadets approached the sleek black vessel with its distinctive markings, the air lock opened and Quent Miles stepped out on the ladder. "It's about time you three jerks showed up," he sneered. "I have to blast off in twenty minutes!
"But I'm more concerned about this unit than I am about Quent Miles and his threats. Let's get back to work." Renewing their efforts, Tom, Roger, Astro, Sid, and Kit Barnard turned to the reactor unit and began the laborious job of putting it back together again, at the same time replacing worn-out parts and adjusting the delicate clearances.
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