CHAPTER 7
"Sound off, Corbett!"
Seated in the pilot's chair on the control deck of the rocket cruiser_Polaris_, Major Connel bellowed the order into the intercom as hescanned the many dials on the huge control board.
"One minute to touchdown, sir," reported Tom over the intercom from theradar bridge of the _Polaris_.
"One minute to touchdown," repeated Connel. "Right!"
Connel reached for the switches and levers that would bring the giantship to rest on the red planet of Mars. Even after his many years in theSolar Guard and thousands of space flights, landing a rocket ship wasstill a thrill to the veteran spaceman, and knowing that he had a goodman on the radar deck made it even more exciting and demanding of hisskill.
"Decelerate!" yelled Tom over the intercom.
Connel shut down the main drive rockets and at the same time opened thenose braking rockets. "Braking rockets on!" he yelled.
"One thousand feet to touchdown," said Tom.
Connel watched the dials spinning before him.
"Seven hundred and fifty feet to touchdown," reported Tom.
"Keep counting, Corbett!" yelled Connel enthusiastically.
"Five hundred feet!"
Connel quickly cut back the nose braking rockets and again opened themain drive rockets as the ship plummeted tailfirst toward the surface ofMars.
"Two hundred feet!" came the warning call over the intercom.
Connel glanced up at the teleceiver screen over his head that showed thespaceport below. The concrete runways and platforms were rushing up tomeet the giant ship. He opened the main rockets full.
"Seventy-five feet! Stand by!" yelled Tom.
Connel's hands flashed over the control panel of the ship, snappingswitches, flipping levers, and turning dials in an effort to bring theship to a smooth landing. There was a sudden roar of rockets and then agentle bump.
"Touchdown!" roared Connel.
He flipped off the main switches on the control board, spun around inhis chair, and noted the time on the astral chronometer. "TouchdownMarsport, 2117!" he announced.
Tom clambered down the ladder from the radar bridge and immediatelynoted the time of arrival in the logbook. He turned around and salutedthe major sharply. "All secure, sir," he said.
"Congratulations on a smooth trip, Corbett," Connel said. "And thanksfor letting me take her in. I know it's unusual to have the seniorofficer take over the ship, but once in a while I get the urge to put myhands on those controls and--well--" Connel paused, fumbling for words.
Tom was so startled by the major's stumbling attempt to explain hisfeelings, he felt himself blush. He had always suspected the major ofbeing a rocket jockey at heart and now he was certain. But he wouldnever tell anyone, not even Roger and Astro about this incident. It wassomething he knew that he himself would feel if he ever got to be as oldas Major Connel and had reached his position. There passed between theofficer and the cadet a sudden feeling of mutual understanding.
"I understand, sir," said Tom quietly.
"Dismissed!" roared Connel, recovering his composure again, and veryconscious that he had exposed his innermost feelings to the cadet. Buthe didn't mind too much. Tom Corbett had proven beyond the shadow of adoubt that he had the stuff true spacemen are made of, and because ofthis, Connel could feel as close to him as a man near his own age. Therewas never a breed of men who were drawn so close together in their loveof work as the spacemen and there was no need for further explanation.
When they had climbed out of the _Polaris_ and stepped on the landingramp at Marsport, Connel and Tom saw that the ground crews were alreadychecking over the afterburners and exhaust tubes of the ship. A youngSolar Guard lieutenant, wearing a decidedly greasy uniform, snapped toattention before Connel.
"Lieutenant Slick at your service, sir," he announced.
"Lieutenant," bawled Connel, "your uniform is filthy!"
"Yes, sir, I know it is, sir," replied the young officer. "But I wasoverhauling a firing unit this morning, sir, and I guess I got a littledirty."
"That is enlisted man's work, sir," stated Connel. "You are an officer."
"I know, sir, but--" Slick stammered. "Well, sir, once in a while I liketo do it myself."
Tom turned away, hiding a smile. The young officer was expressing thesame feelings Connel himself had uttered just a few minutes before.Connel cleared his throat, and with a sidelong glance at Tom and a wink,dismissed the young officer, ordering him to have a jet car sent forthem right away.
"Take mine, sir," said the young officer, happy to have escaped Connel'swrath so easily. It was not too long ago that he had been a cadet at theAcademy and he remembered all too clearly what Connel could do when hewas mad.
When the jet car was brought up, Tom slipped behind the wheel, and withConnel seated beside him, he sent the sleek little vehicle roaringacross the spaceport to the main administration building.
Inside the gleaming crystal building, Connel and Tom were escorted by aSpace Marine guard to the office of the spaceport commander, Captain JimArnold. He and Connel knew each other well, and after quick greetingsand the introduction of the young cadet, Connel asked for the latestreports on the projectile receivers.
"Lou, I've got good news for you," announced Arnold. "We've completedthe receiver ramps for the test. As soon as your ship is ready to fireher cargo projectiles, we can receive them."
Connel's face showed the surprise he felt. "Why, Jim, that's the mostamazing news I've ever heard!" he exclaimed. "How did you do it?"
"Through hard work," replied Arnold, "and the efforts of a young officernamed Slick. He handled the whole thing."
"Slick!" exclaimed Connel. "I just bawled him out for wearing a dirtyuniform."
"He's responsible for our success," asserted Arnold. "And what's more,those receivers can be taken apart and reassembled again in less thanten minutes."
"Incredible," gasped Connel. "I've got to see those things right away.Come along, Corbett."
Tom followed the major out of the office and back to the jet car. Theywere about to drive off to the opposite end of the field when they heardsomeone shout to them. Tom stopped the speedy little car and Connelturned around to see who had called them.
Carter Devers rushed up and greeted the Solar Guard officerenthusiastically. "Major, this is a surprise."
"Hello, Carter. What are you doing here?" Connel asked bluntly.
"Had some business here on Mars," said Devers. "I've finished and I'mon my way back to Earth. You wouldn't, by any chance, be going backsoon, would you? I saw the Solar Guard cruiser come in and one of theattendants told me that they were preparing it for immediateblast-off--"
"Of course, Carter," Connel said briskly. "Get in. We're just going overto inspect the receivers and then we'll be heading back."
Devers jumped into the jet car and Tom headed across the broad expanseof the spaceport.
Connel turned to Devers and said enthusiastically, "Can you imagine,Devers? Some young officer here at Marsport has worked out a way toassemble and transport the receivers in a fantastically small amount oftime."
"That's amazing," said Devers. "I'd like very much to see them." Helooked at Tom and said, "Incidentally, who is your young friend?"
"Oh, sorry," replied Connel. "This is Cadet Corbett of the _Polaris_unit. No doubt you've heard of them. He and his unit mates manage to getinto more trouble than all the monkeys in the Venusian jungle."
Carter laughed. "I've known Lou Connel long enough to know that when hesays something like that about you, son, he thinks very highly of you."
"Thank you, sir," replied Tom, not knowing what else to say.
While Connel and Devers talked of the problems surrounding theprojectile operation, Tom concentrated on his driving. He was followingdirections given him by Jim Arnold to reach the testing grounds and thismade it necessary for Tom to drive right through the center of thespaceport, weaving in and out of the dozens of spaceships parked on theconcrete
ramps.
Tom swept past them, driving expertly, heading toward a group ofconcrete blockhouses enclosed by a fence which he knew would be thetesting area. Beside the fence, a short, stubby-nosed spaceship wasloading cargo, and beneath the vessel, two huge jet trucks were backinginto position. Tom steered the car up to the gate and stopped at thesignal of an armed guard. Connel, Devers, and Tom stepped out of the carand waited for a minute, and then young Lieutenant Slick appeared,wearing a clean uniform.
Slick checked their names off against a list he carried and then drewConnel to one side. "I'm sorry, sir," he said, just out of Tom andDever's hearing, "I can't allow the cadet inside this area."
"Why not?" asked Connel. "I'll vouch for him."
"I'm sorry, sir," said Slick. "Those are my orders. I can let you andMr. Devers in, but not Cadet Corbett." He showed Connel a list of names:Connel, Strong, Hemmingwell, Walters, Devers, and Barret. They were theonly names on it.
Connel nodded. "I understand," he said and turned to Tom. "You'll haveto stay here, Corbett," he called. "Wait for me in the car."
"Yes, sir," replied Tom and hopped back in the jet.
He backed out through the gate, pulling up alongside the fence near thestubby-nosed freighter. When Connel and Devers, escorted by Slick, haddisappeared behind a blockhouse inside the restricted area, Tomcasually walked over to watch the loading operation of the spaceship. Afew of the workers stopped when he walked up, and recognizing his cadetuniform, greeted him warmly.
"Space Cadet, eh?" said one of the men. "Sure wish I could get my boy inthe Academy."
"Me too," said another man. "All I hear from morning until night isSpace Academy--Space Academy."
Tom smiled his appreciation of their admiration. While he answered theirquestions about the training school of the Solar Guard, they continuedworking. After a while the conversation turned to the restricted areabehind the fence.
"Some pretty important work going on in there," said one of the men."But how come they wouldn't let you go in?"
"I haven't been cleared by security," replied Tom. "It's top secret."
"Secret," said a man who had just joined the group. Tom had noticed himbefore, climbing out of one of the huge jet trucks parked near the gate."Why, there ain't nothing secret about what's going on in there," hecontinued.
"Why do you say that?" asked Tom alertly.
"Why, we all know about it, Cadet," said one of the first men Tom hadspoken to. "They're building receivers for cargo projectiles."
Tom gulped in surprise. "But how did you know?" he asked.
"Why, it's the only thing we've been talking about down at the garageand at Sloppy Sam's, the jet-truckers hangout," replied the trucker."If this thing works, surface transportation will be finished."
"That's right," asserted another worker. "The whole industry will bewiped out overnight. Nobody will have anything trucked any more.Cargo'll be loaded into a projectile and shot off into space to apassing freighter. Then the freighter carries it to its destination andshoots it back down to a receiver."
"But how could you know all this?" asked Tom. "It is one of the SolarGuard's most closely guarded secrets."
"It's all over Mars," declared the truck driver with a derisive laugh."Why, everybody knows it."
Suddenly one of the men yelled and pointed toward the fence. The jettruck parked near the gate was rolling forward slowly. As Tom and themen watched in horror, the giant vehicle crashed through the fence androlled into the restricted area, picking up speed.
In a flash Tom was inside the jet car, driving right through the hole inthe fence and speeding after the huge machine. Around him, guards wererunning after the truck, shouting frantic warnings. Far ahead of him,Tom saw Major Connel and Devers standing near several receivers lined upoutside a blockhouse. The truck was rolling straight toward them.Hearing the shouts of alarm, the two men turned and saw their danger.Devers immediately jumped into the safety of the blockhouse, but Connelstumbled and fell heavily. Tom's blood ran cold. He saw that the majorhad struck his head against one of the receivers and he lay on theground, dazed and unable to move.
Tom jammed the accelerator of the tiny jet car to the floor and shotahead like a rocket. He was alongside the truck now, but the distancebetween the huge machine and Connel was narrowing rapidly. Tom clenchedhis teeth and urged the little car on faster. He knew that there was notenough time for him to jump into the truck and pull the brake. Therewas only one thing he could do.
Regaining his senses, Connel tried to crawl to safety, but there was notime. He braced himself for what he knew would be instant death, andthen to his amazement he saw Tom's jet car swerve sharply in front ofthe runaway truck.
_Tom swerved the jet car in front of the runaway truck_]
There was a wrenching crash of metal, a shrill scream of skidding tires,climaxed by a thunderous roar. After that, deathly silence.
For a second Connel stood frozen in horror, staring at the overturnedtruck and the tangle of twisted metal that was the jet car. Then helunged forward with a frantic cry.
"Corbett! Corbett!"