they walked across the steel surface, back to the air lock, Tom stuck out his hand.
“I’m glad you came back, Roger.”
“Save it for the boys that fall for that stuff, Corbett,” said Roger sarcastically. “I came back because I didn’t want you and that Venusian hick to think you’re the only ones with guts around here!”
“No one has ever accused you of not having guts, Roger.”
“Ah—go blast your jets,” snarled Roger.
They went directly to the power deck where Astro was waiting for them, the Geiger counter in his hand.
“All set to get rid of the rotten apple?” he asked with a smile.
“All set, Astro,” said Tom. “What’s the count?”
“She seems to have steadied around fourteen hundred ninety—and believe me, the ten points to the official danger mark of fifteen hundred is so small that we could find out where the angels live any moment now!”
“Then what’re we waiting for,” said Tom. “Let’s dump that thing!”
“How?” snarled Roger.
Tom and Astro looked at him bewilderedly. “What do you mean ‘how’?” asked Astro.
“I mean how are you going to get the tube out of the ship?”
“Why,” started Tom, “there’s nothing holding that tube assembly to the ship now. We cut all the cleats, remember? We can jettison the whole unit!”
“It seems to me,” drawled Roger lazily, “that the two great heroes in their mad rush for the Solar Medal have forgotten an unwritten law of space. There’s no gravity out here—no natural force to pull or push the tube. The only way it could be moved is by the power of thrust, either forward or backward!”
“O.K. Then let’s push it out, just that way,” said Astro.
“How?” asked Roger cynically.
“Simple, Roger,” said Tom, “Newton’s Laws of motion. Everything in motion tends to keep going at the same speed unless influenced by an outside force. So if we blasted our nose rockets and started going backward, everything on the ship would go backward too, then if we reversed—”
Astro cut in, “Yeah—if we blasted the stern rockets, the ship would go forward, but the tube, being loose, would keep going the other way!”
“There’s only one thing wrong,” said Roger. “That mass is so hot now, if any booster energy hit it, it would be like a trigger on a bomb. It’d blow us from here to the next galaxy!”
“I’m willing to try it,” said Tom. “How about you, Astro?”
“I’ve gone this far, and I’m not quitting now.”
They turned to face Roger.
“Well, how about it, Roger?” asked Tom. “No one will think you’re yellow if you take the jet boat and leave now.”
“Ah—talk again!” grumbled Roger. “We always have to talk. Let’s be original for a change and just do our jobs!”
“All right,” said Tom. “Take an emergency light and signal Captain Strong. Tell him what we’re going to do. Warn him to stay away—about two hundred miles off. He’ll know if we’re successful or not within a half hour!”
“Yeah,” said Roger, “then we’ll send him one big flash to mean we failed! Bon voyage!”
Fifteen minutes later, as the Lady Venus drifted in her silent but deadly orbit, Tom, Roger and Astro still worked feverishly as the Geiger counter ticked off the increasing radioactivity of the wildcatting reaction mass in number-three rocket tube.
“Reading on the counter still’s going up, Astro,” warned Roger. “Fifteen-O-five.”
“Hurry it up, Astro,” urged Tom.
“Hand me that wrench, Tom,” ordered Astro. The big cadet, stripped to the waist, his thick arms and chest splattered with grease and sweat, fitted the wrench to the nut and applied pressure. Tom and Roger watched the muscles ripple along his back, as the big Venusian pitted all of his great strength against the metal.
“Give it all you’ve got,” said Tom. “If we do manage to jettison that tube, we’ve got to keep this part of the power deck airtight!”
Astro pulled harder. The veins standing out on his neck. At last, easing off, he stood up and looked down at the nut.
“That’s as tight as I can get it,” he said, breathing heavily.
“Or anyone else,” said Tom.
“All the valve connections broken?” asked Astro.
“Yep,” replied Roger. “We’re sealed tight.”
“That’s it, then,” said Tom. “Let’s get to the control deck and start blasting!”
Astro turned to the power-deck control board and checked the gauges for the last time. From above his head, he heard Tom’s voice over the intercom.
“All your relays to the power deck working, Astro?”
“Ready, Tom,” answered Astro.
“Then stand by,” said Tom on the control deck. He had made a hasty check of the controls and found them to be similar enough to those on the Polaris so that he could handle the ship. He flipped the switch to the radar deck and spoke into the intercom.
“Do we have a clear trajectory fore and aft, Roger?”
“All clear,” replied Roger. “I sent Captain Strong the message.”
“What’d he say?”
“The rebellion wasn’t anything more than a bunch of badly scared old men. Al James just got hysterical, that’s all.”
A low muted roar pulsed through the ship
“What did he have to say about this operation?”
“I can’t repeat it for your young ears,” said Roger.
“So bad, huh?”
“Yeah, but not because we’re trying to save the ship.”
“Then why?” asked Tom.
“He’s afraid of losing a good unit!”
Tom smiled and turned to the control board. “Energize the cooling pumps!” he bawled to Astro over the intercom.
The slow whine of the pumps began to build to a shrieking pitch.
“Pumps in operation, Tom,” said Astro.
“Cut in nose braking rockets,” ordered Tom.
A low muted roar pulsed through the ship.
“Rockets on—we’re moving backward, Tom,” reported Astro.
And then suddenly Astro let out a roar. “Tom, the Geiger counter is going wild!”
“Never mind that now,” answered Tom. “Sound off, Roger!” he yelled.
“Ship moving astern—one thousand feet a second—two thousand—four thousand—”
“I’m going to let her build to ten, Roger,” yelled Tom. “We’ve only got one chance and we might as well make it a good one!”
“Six thousand!” yelled Roger. “Seven thousand!”
“Astro,” bellowed Tom, “stand by to fire stern rockets!”
“Ready, Tom,” was Astro’s reply.
“Eight thousand,” warned Roger. “Spaceman’s luck, fellas!”
The