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Updated: May 22, 2025
"No, why?" asked Tom, playing along with the game. "Because they knew any time the Polaris ran out of reactant fuel we could just stick Manning in the rocket tubes and have him blow out some of his special brand of space gas!" "Listen, you Venusian throwback! One more word out of you and " "All right, you two!" broke in Tom good-naturedly. "Enough's enough! Come on.
The Polaris is a kiddy car in comparison!" "You're right, Astro," said Connel, "but there's one thing you've forgotten. The copper of the satellite itself. That's going to be the main source of power. The reactant fuel from the Space Devil will serve only as a starter, a trigger, you might say, to make use of the copper as fuel!" Once again Astro gasped.
Strong and Kit Barnard watched Brett with narrowed eyes as the arrogant company owner crossed to the other side of the room and sat down. "You know something, Steve," said Kit quietly. "Back at the Academy, I failed to register a protest about someone dumping impure reactant into my feeders." "What about it?" asked Strong. "I'd like to register that protest now." "Now?"
The Solar Guard officer referred to the lead-lined jet sled that removed the reactant piles from all ships that were to be laid up for longer than three days. "And you'd better get over to your dorm right away," Strong continued. "You have to get ready for parade and full Corps dismissal." Tom grinned. "Yes, sir!"
"What do you think made this tub act up like this, Astro?" asked Tom, ignoring Roger's remark. "Using special reactant feed, Tom," replied Astro. "This is a converted chemical burner with an old-type cooling pump. It's touchy stuff." "Well, couldn't we drive boron rods into the mass and slow down the reaction?" asked Tom.
It's so good that he got back here still carrying half a tank of reactant." "Well, you haven't any kick with me," asserted Miles. "I dumped that stuff in his tanks." "Then how come he made it so fast?" growled Brett. "How come he made it at all?" "How should I know?" snapped Quent. "Listen, Charley, lay off me. You might be able to order Ross around, but you don't scare me.
The difference is that the satellite is a peanut compared in size to the Moon, being only about fifteen miles in diameter. I'm not sure, but I think I can get enough reactant energy out of the Space Devil's fuel supply to blast the satellite out of Tara's grip and send it back to our solar system in one piece!"
The power deck has the rocket motors where the master panel should be and the panel is ready to go into what's left of the reactant chamber. The jet boat is nothing but a worthless piece of junk!" The three boys considered the fate of the jet boat soberly. Finally Astro broke the silence with a question. "Where do you think we are?" "Somewhere in the New Sahara desert," answered Tom.
The giant Venusian held up the oil-smeared test tube for Kit Barnard's inspection. "Impure reactant. And so impure that it couldn't possibly have come from the Academy supply depot. It would have been noticed." "Then how did it get in my feeders?" asked Kit, half to himself. "Whoever was messing around on the power deck just before you blasted off for the trials must have dumped it in," said Tom.
"I admit that it looks a little lopsided, with that tank joint on the side nearly twice as big as the whole cooling unit, but if you'll cut your motors and give me fifteen minutes to change that line, I'll give you a reactant feed at D-30 rate." "D-D-30," stammered Kit. "You're space happy!" He glanced over at Sid. "Is that right, Sid?" he asked, almost hesitantly. The youth nodded.
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