Venus.
“This is where we’re going first,” he said, placing a finger on a ball-shaped satellite in orbit around the misty planet. “This is the Venus space station. As you know, Venus has no natural satellite of its own, so we built one. We’ll blast off from here and go directly to the space station where the Polaris will be fitted with hyperdrive for deep-space operations. While at the station you will acquaint yourselves with the operation of the new audio communications transmitter. When I’m satisfied that you can handle it under the prevailing conditions of an extended space flight, we’ll blast off for a test of its range and performance.”
Major Connel paused and faced the cadets squarely. Then he continued: “This is an important mission—one which I hope will enable the Solar Guard to establish the first base outside of our solar system. Our destination is Tara, in the star system of Alpha Centauri. Tara is a planet in a stage of development similar to that of Earth several million years ago. Its climate is tropical, and lush vegetation—jungles really—covers the land surface. Two great oceans separate the land masses. One is called Alpha, the other Omega. I was on the first expedition, when Tara was discovered, and have just returned from the second, during which we explored it and ran tests to learn if it could sustain human life. All tests show that Tara can be transformed into a paradise.”
Connel paused, took a deep breath, and continued: “I shall expect more than just hard work from you. I want everything you have to offer. Not just good performance, but excellence! I will not tolerate anything less, and if I’m forced to resort to extreme disciplinary action to get what I demand, then you can expect to receive every demerit in the book!” He stepped closer to the three cadets. “Remember! Spacemen—or nothing! Now, stand by to blast off!”
Without a word, the three cadets hurried to their stations and began routine procedure to raise ship.
“All departments ready to blast off, Major Connel,” reported Tom, saluting sharply.
“Very well, Corbett, proceed,” said Connel.
Tom called into the intercom, “Stand by for blast-off!” He then opened the circuit to the teleceiver screen overhead and spoke to the spaceport control tower.
“Polaris to spaceport control. Request permission to blast off. Request orbit.”
“Spaceport traffic to Polaris. Your orbit has been cleared 089—repeat 089—blast off in two minutes.…”
“Orbit 089—blast off minus one fifty-nine fifty-eight.”
“You read me clear, Polaris…”
Tom clicked off the switch and turned to the intercom. “Control deck to radar bridge. Do we have a clear tangent forward and up?”
“All clear forward and up, Tom,” replied Roger.
“Control deck to power deck. Energize the cooling pumps!”
“Cooling pumps in operation,” answered Astro briskly.
The giant ship began to shudder as the mighty pumps on the power deck started their slow, whining build-up. Tom sat in front of the control panel, strapped himself into the acceleration chair, and began checking the dials and gauges. Satisfied everything was in order, he fastened his eyes to the sweeping red second hand on the solar clock. The teleceiver screen brought a sharp picture of the surrounding base of the spaceship, and he saw that it was all clear. The second hand reached the ten-second mark.
“Stand by to raise ship!” bawled Tom into the intercom. The red hand moved steadily, surely, to the zero at the top of the clock face. Tom reached for the master switch.
“Blast off minus five—four—three—two—one—zero!”
Tom threw the switch.
Slowly the giant ship raised itself from the ground. Then faster and faster, pushing the four spacemen deep into their acceleration cushions, it hurtled spaceward.
In a few seconds the Polaris was gravity-free. Once again, Earthmen had started another journey to the stars.
CHAPTER 4
“Stand by to reduce speed three-quarters!” roared Major Connel.
“Aye, aye, sir,” replied Tom, and began the necessary adjustments on the control panel. He spoke into the intercom. “Control deck to power deck. Stand by to reduce thrust on main drive rockets by three-quarters. We’re coming onto the space station, Astro.”
“Power deck, aye,” acknowledged Astro.
Drifting in a steady orbit around its mother planet, the Venus space station loomed ahead of the Polaris like a huge metal ball set against a backdrop of cold, black space. It was studded with gaping holes, air locks which served as landing ports for spaceships. Inside the station was a compact city. Living quarters, communications rooms, repair shops, weather observations, meteor information, everything to serve the great fleet of Solar Guard and merchant spaceships plying the space lanes between Earth, Mars, Venus, and Titan.
“I’m getting the identification request from the station, sir. Shall I answer her?” asked Roger over the intercom.
“Of course, you space-brained idiot, and make it fast!” exploded Connel. “What do you want to do? Get us blasted out of space?”
“Yes, sir!” replied Roger. “Right away, sir!”
Tom kept his eyes on the teleceiver screen above his head. The image of the space station loomed large and clear.
“Approaching a little too fast, I think, sir,” volunteered Tom. “Shall I make the adjustment?”
“What’s the range?” asked Connel.
Tom named a figure.
“Ummmmh,” mused Connel. He glanced quickly over the dials and then nodded in assent. Tom turned once more to the intercom. “Control deck to power deck,” he called. “Stand by for maneuvering, Astro, and reduce your main drive thrust to minimum space speed.”
“Space station traffic control to rocket cruiser Polaris. Come in, Polaris. This is traffic control on space station to Polaris,” the audio teleceiver crackled.
“Rocket cruiser Polaris to space station and traffic control. Request touchdown permission and landing-port number,” replied Tom.
“Permission to touch down granted, Polaris. You are to line up on approach to landing-port seven—repeat—seven. Am now sending out guiding radar beam. Can you read beam?”
Tom turned to the intercom. “Have you got the station’s guiding beam, Roger?”
“All lined up, Tom,” replied Roger from the radar bridge. “Get that Venusian on the power deck to give me a three-second shot on the starboard rocket, if he can find the right handles!”
“I heard that, Manning!” roared Astro’s voice on the intercom. “Another crack like that and I’ll make you get out and push this baby around!”
“You execute that order and do it blasted quick!” Major Connel’s voice exploded over the intercom. “And watch that loose talk on the ship’s intercom. From now on, all directions and orders will be given and received in a crisp, clear manner without unnecessary familiarity!”
Connel didn’t expect them to acknowledge his order. The cadets had heard him and that was enough. He knew it was enough. In the short time it had taken them to traverse the immense gulf of space between the Academy and the station Connel had handed out demerits by fives and tens! Each of the cadets was now tagged with enough black marks to spend two months in the galley working them off!
Now, working together like the smooth team of junior spacemen they were, Tom, Roger, and Astro maneuvered the great rocket ship toward the gaping hole of the air lock in the side of the white ball-like satellite.
“Drop your bow one half degree, Polaris, you’re up too high,” warned the station control.
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