up and walked over to the big cadet. “Come on, Astro, we haven’t got much time. You’re due in the examination hall in a few minutes.”
“It’s no good, Tom, I just can’t understand that stuff.” Astro turned and faced his unit-mates, his voice charged with sudden emotion. “Just fifteen minutes on the power deck of anything with rockets in her and I’ll run her from here to the next galaxy. I—I can’t explain it, but when I look at those motors, I can read ’em like you read an astrogation chart, Roger, or you the gauges on the control deck, Tom. But I just can’t get those ratios out of a book. I gotta put my hands on those motors—touch ’em—I mean really touch ’em—then I know what to do!”
As suddenly as he had started, he stopped and turned, leaving Tom and Roger staring at him, startled by this unusual outburst.
“Cadets—stand to!” roared a voice from the doorway.
The three cadets snapped to attention and faced the entrance.
“Take it easy, Earthworms!” said Tony Richards. A tall cadet with closely cut black hair and a lazy, smiling face stood in the doorway.
“Lay off, Richards,” said Tom. “We haven’t time for gags now. Astro’s going to take his power-deck manual in a few minutes and we’re cramming with him.”
“O.K.—O.K.—don’t blow your jets,” said Richards. “I just wanted to see if there were any bets on which unit would cop honors in the manuals this afternoon.”
“I suppose you think your Unit 77-K will finish on top?” drawled Roger.
“I’d like to bet all the galley demerits we have in 77-K against yours.”
“With Astro on our team?” complained Roger.
“What’s the matter with Astro?” asked Richards. “From what I hear, he’s hot stuff!” It wasn’t a compliment, but a sharp dig made with a sly smile. Astro balled his huge hands into fists.
“Astro,” said Roger, “is the type that can smell out trouble on any power deck. But today he came down with a cold. No, I’m afraid it’s no bet, Richards.”
“I’ll give you two to one,” Richards offered.
“Nothing doing,” replied Roger. “Not even at five to one. Not with Astro.”
Richards grinned, nodded and disappeared.
Roger turned to face the hard stare of Tom.
“That was the dirtiest sellout I’ve ever heard, Manning,” Tom growled.
“Sorry, Corbett,” said Roger. “I only bet on sure things.”
“That’s O.K. with me, Manning,” said Astro, “but I’m afraid you sold yourself a hot rocket, because I’m going to pass!”
“Who are you kidding?” Roger laughed and sprawled on his bunk.
Astro took a quick step forward, his fists clenched, his face a mask of burning anger, but Tom quickly jumped in front of him.
“You’ll be late for the exam, Astro!” he shouted. “Get going or it’ll count against your mark!”
“Huh. What’s a few points more or less when you’re going to fail anyway,” snorted Roger from the bunk.
Again, Astro started to lunge forward and Tom braced himself against the Venusian’s charge, but suddenly the burly cadet stopped. Disengaging Tom’s restraining arms, he spoke coldly to the sneering boy on the bed.
“I’m going to pass the exam, Manning. Get that? I’m going to pass and then come back and beat your head off!” Turning on his heel, he stalked out of the room.
Tom immediately wheeled to face Roger, fire in his eyes, and the arrogant cadet, sensing trouble, jumped to his feet to meet him.
“What’s the idea of giving Astro a hard time?” demanded Tom.
“Cool off, Corbett,” replied Roger warily. “You’re fusing your tubes you’re so hot.”
“You bet I’m hot! Hot enough to blast you—again!” Tom deliberately spat out the last word.
Roger flushed and brought his fists up quickly as though to charge in, then suddenly dropped them again. He turned to the door and slowly walked out.
“Go blow your jets,” his voice drifted back to Tom as he disappeared.
Tom stood there, looking at the empty door, almost blind with rage and frustration. He was failing in the main job assigned to him, that of keeping the unit on an even keel and working together. How could he command a crew out in space if he couldn’t keep the friction of his own unit under control?
Slowly, he left the room to wait for Astro in the recreation hall where the results of the manuals would be announced. He thought of Astro, now probably deep in his exam, and wondered how bad it would be for him. Then another thought crossed his mind. Roger had said nothing of his own test and neither he nor Astro had even inquired.
He shook his head. No matter where the unit placed in the manuals, it just couldn’t stay together.
CHAPTER 7
It was customary for all Earthworm cadets to gather in the main recreation hall to wait for the results of the manuals which would be announced on the huge teleceiver screen. Since all the units were taking their tests that afternoon, the hall was crowded with green-clad cadets, talking in low murmurs and waiting tensely for the outcome of the exam.
Tom entered the huge room, looked around and then drifted toward Al Dixon, the senior cadet who had greeted them as a unit after passing classification tests. The blue-clad cadet was listening to a story spool, a device that told a story, rather than let the person read it from a book.
“Hiya, Corbett,” said Dixon, smiling. “Drag up a chair. Listening to a terrific yarn about a guy stranded on an asteroid and then he finds—” The redheaded cadet’s voice trailed off when he noticed that Tom wasn’t listening.
“Say, what’s the matter with you? You look like you just lost your best friend.”
“Not yet, but it won’t be long now,” commented Tom, a trace of bitterness creeping into his voice. “Astro’s taking his power-deck manual. What he knows about those compression ratios just isn’t known. But he just can’t get it on paper.”
“Don’t sell your unit-mate short,” said Dixon, sensing something beneath Tom’s comment. “I’ve heard that big fellow knows more about a rocket deck than McKenny.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” said Tom, “but—”
“You know, Corbett,” said Dixon, switching off the story spool, “there’s something screwy in that outfit of yours.”
“You can say that again,” agreed Tom bitterly.
“You come in here with a face dragging on the floor, and Manning—”
Tom’s head jerked up. “Manning! What about that space-gassing hot-shot?”
“—Manning just tore through the rec hall trying to get some of the other Earthworm units to bet their galley demerits against your outfit.”
Tom’s mouth sagged open. “You mean, he actually wanted to bet that Astro would pass?”
“Not just pass, Corbett, but he wanted to bet that your unit would be top rocket of the Earthworms! The head of the list!”
“But he told Astro that—” he stopped.
“Told him what?” Dixon asked.
“Ah—nothing—nothing—” said Tom. He jumped up and headed for the door.
“Hey, where are you going?”
“To find Manning. There are a couple of things I want to clear up.”