He turned quickly to the control board and began focusing on the planet lying dead ahead of the decelerating spaceship. They had been slowing down for several days, since their speed with the added hyperdrive had been increased greatly. The young cadet adjusted the last dial and the blue-green planet sprang into clear sharp focus on the screen.
“Why,” gasped Tom. “Sir, look! It’s just like Earth!”
“In more ways than one, Corbett,” replied Connel. “What’s our range?”
“I’d say we’re close enough to reduce thrust to a quarter regular space speed, sir.”
“Very well,” said Connel. “Now look to the right on the screen. See that small dark patch over there in the middle of the planet?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Tom.
“That’s where we want to touch down,” said Connel. “You stay here on the control deck and maneuver the ship closer in while I go to the radar deck and contact Space Academy on the transmitter. I’ve got to report that we expect to land soon.”
“Very well, sir,” said Tom. He turned and flipped the intercom switch. “Control deck to power deck,” he said. “Check in, Astro.”
“Power deck here,” replied Astro. “What’s up, Tom?”
“We just got our first good look at Tara. She’s dead ahead. Major Connel’s going to contact Space Academy, and I’m going to maneuver into our preliminary glide. Stand by for course changes.”
“Make it an easy touchdown. I wanta get home, you know,” replied Astro good-naturedly.
“O.K.,” said Tom. “Better bring her down to one-quarter space speed.”
“Hyper or regular?” asked Astro.
“Regular!” yelled Tom. “You give me a quarter on hyper and we’ll go right through that planet!”
“One-quarter regular space speed,” replied Astro.
Tom adjusted his controls for the speed reduction, while keeping his eyes on the teleceiver screen. He watched the planet grow larger before his eyes, and the terrain become more distinct. He could see two large oceans, the green-blue of the water reflecting the sunlight of Alpha Centauri brilliantly. Nearer and nearer the Polaris plummeted, and Tom could begin to distinguish the rough outline of mountain ranges along the horizon line. He switched to a larger view of the planet on the magnascope that revealed a splendor rivaling the beauty of his own cherished Earth.
“We’ll be entering the atmosphere in a minute, Alfie,” yelled Tom into the intercom. “Stand by to give range for touchdown.”
“Radar deck, aye,” reported Alfie. “Range at present five hundred miles.”
“Power deck, check in!” yelled Tom.
“Power deck, aye,” returned Astro.
“All set below?” asked Tom.
“All set,” said Astro.
“Reduce thrust to minimum!” shouted Tom.
Deep inside the powerful ship, the roar of the mighty atomic rocket motors began to fade to a deep growling purr.
“Control deck to radar deck. Major Connel, sir?”
“What is it, Corbett?” asked Connel.
“We’re ready for a touchdown. Do you want to take over the bridge?”
“Can’t you do it, Corbett?” asked Connel.
“Yes, sir!” replied Tom.
“Then carry on,” replied Connel. “I’m having some trouble trying to get through to the Academy on the transmitter. Can’t understand it.” There was a pause. “I have them now, Corbett! You carry on!” he shouted.
“Aye, aye, sir,” said Tom. He turned his attention to the control panel, checking the many dials and gauges with one sweeping glance, and then concentrated on bringing the ship to a safe landing on the foreign planet. His fingers tingled as he reached for the switches that would bring the ship down on the first intergalactic world he had ever visited. In a flash, the curly-haired cadet remembered childhood dreams of doing just what he was doing at this moment, preparing to touch down on a new world, millions of miles away from his home near New Chicago.
“Range one hundred miles,” reported Alfie over the intercom.
“Power deck, reduce thrust to absolute minimum!” ordered Tom. “I want as little sustaining power as you can give me without cutting out altogether, Astro.”
“Can do!” said Astro. The ship slowed even more, then suddenly picked up speed again as the gravity of Tara began to tug at the space traveler.
“Stand by to fire braking rockets!” yelled Tom. He was all nerves now, sensitive to the throbbing of the great ship’s motors, eyes fastened to the dials and meters on the control panel. There was no time to watch the scanner view of the onrushing planet now. He had to touch down blindly, using only his instruments. “Radar bridge, report!” snapped Tom.
“Range one thousand feet,” reported Alfie, his calm voice in striking contrast to the nervous excitement in Tom’s. “Seven hundred fifty—six hundred—five fifty—”
“Fire braking rockets!” rasped Tom into the intercom.
The great ship bucked under the sudden thrust of the huge braking rockets. The Polaris held steady for a moment, then gradually, as the pull of Tara began again, she settled back toward the dark-green jungles beneath her.
“Two hundred and fifty feet,” reported Alfie. “One hundred and seventy-five—one fifty—” he droned.
“Ease her up, Astro,” shouted Tom. “Easy! Ease her up, you Venusian clunk, we’re dropping too fast!”
Once again, from the heart of the Polaris, there came a roaring blast of the powerful motors. The ship steadied once more and then slipped back into her fall toward the new planet under more sure control.
“Fifty feet,” reported Alfie. “Forty—thirty—twenty—”
There was a brief pause, as if everything had stopped and they were held still by a giant hand, and then, suddenly, a rocking motion, a slight bump and rumble. Tom knew they were down.
“Touchdown!” he yelled at the top of his voice. “Touchdown! We made it—we made it!”
From the power deck, quiet except for the whining of the oxygen feed pump, Astro’s bellow could be heard vibrating through the passageways.
“Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooowwwwwww!”
Tom began shutting off the many circuits and switches and made a quick last-minute check of the now dead ship. Satisfied, he glanced at the great solar clock, noted the time in the log, and stepped to the ladder leading to the radar bridge.
“Cadet Corbett reporting, sir,” said Tom, saluting smartly. “I wish to report, sir, that the Polaris made touchdown on the planet Tara at exactly seventeen fifty-nine, solar time!”
Connel, his great bulk bent over the tiny transmitter, was twirling the dials, his head encased in a vacuum earphone helmet to ensure perfect silence. He had acquired the knowledge of lip reading out of necessity on the power decks of the old chemical burners thirty years before, and while he couldn’t hear what Tom had said, he knew what the report was.
“Very well, Corbett,” he shouted, not being able to judge the volume of his voice. “Good job! Can’t seem to pick them up at the Academy again. Had them once, then lost them. Am placing you in command of an expedition for a quick look outside. Arm yourselves with paralo-ray guns and rifles. Take a jet boat and under no circumstances are you to land. Dismissed! Oh, yes, one more thing. Take Alfie Higgins along with you and keep your eye on him. Report back in one hour!”
Tom