five—four—three—two—one—zeeroooooo!”
Paying scant attention to the crush of sudden acceleration, Tom gave the ship all the power she could take for the climb out of Tara’s atmosphere, and soon they were rocketing through the airless void of space. Alfie and Connel hurriedly swept the area with the radar scanner for the attacking intruder.
“There she is!” roared Connel. “There!” He placed a finger on a white blip on the scanner. “By the craters of Luna, that’s an Earth ship!” The fear of an outer-space invasion by hostile people from another world had been in the back of his mind, but he had been reluctant to voice his fears in front of the cadets. “And she’s an old one at that!” he exclaimed. “Not even armed. I know that class vessel. Corbett!” he shouted.
“Aye, aye, sir,” replied Tom.
“Put the ship on automatic flight, attack-approach pattern number three. Then stand by to send a message to whoever’s manning that ship!”
“Aye, aye, sir!” replied Tom. He hurriedly set the delicate device that would fly the ship in a preplanned course of zigzag maneuvers and opened the circuits of the teleceivers.
“All set for the message, sir,” reported Tom.
“Tell them,” said Connel heavily, his voice cold, “whoever they are, that I’ll give them two minutes to surrender. If they don’t, I’ll blast them into protons!”
“Very well, sir,” said Tom. He turned to the teleceiver and began twirling the dials.
“Attention! Attention! Rocket cruiser Polaris to spaceship X. Polaris to spaceship X. You are ordered to surrender within two minutes or we will attack. By order of Major Connel, Senior Line Officer, Solar Guard.”
He switched the teleceiver for reception and waited. In a moment the screen blurred and then an image appeared. Tom gasped. It was Roger!
“Tom, Tom,” yelled Roger. “Tom, this is me—Roger!”
“Roger! What’re you doing out here? How’d you get here?”
“I can’t explain now,” said Roger. “I—I—”
Tom interrupted him. “Roger, you’ve been cleared! The investigation of the crash on the station proved that Loring and Mason are guilty. They’re wanted for the crash and the deaths of Jardine and Bangs!”
“What! You mean—” stammered Roger.
“Yes. Loring and Mason did the whole thing!” supplied Tom.
“Look, Tom,” pleaded Roger, “give me ten minutes. Don’t fire for ten minutes! I’m going to try an idea. If I’m not successful, then open up and blast us back to Mars!”
“Roger, wait!” shouted Tom. “What’s going on? What’re you doing on that ship?”
“I can’t talk now,” answered Roger. “Loring and Mason are on the ship with me. Remember—ten minutes—and if I don’t contact you, then open fire!”
CHAPTER 13
Roger flipped off the teleceiver. He stared at the darkened screen and began estimating the chances of success for a plan he had in mind. Deciding that, regardless of what happened, he had to take over the ship, he got up and turned toward the hatch and the gun locker. He stopped cold. Loring stood framed in the doorway, a paralo-ray gun in each hand.
“Just stand right where you are, spaceboy!” snapped Loring. “You want ten minutes, huh? Ten minutes for what? I thought there was something funny going on when we missed the Polaris with that bomb!”
“You knew all along I didn’t have anything to do with that crash back on the station, didn’t you?” shouted Roger. His eyes blazed angrily.
“Yeah. So what?” growled Loring. “Hey, Mason,” he yelled over his shoulder, “get up here in a hurry! We gotta work fast!”
“What are you going to do?” asked Roger.
“You’re still valuable to us, Manning,” said Loring with a crooked grin. “You’re going to ensure our getting what we came after!”
Mason stepped through the door. “Yeah, Loring?”
Loring quickly told him of Roger’s attempt to work with Connel.
“Take our spaceboy down below and lock him in a storage compartment.” He handed over one of the paralo-ray guns, and Mason shoved the muzzle into Roger’s stomach.
“Get moving, Manning!” he snarled. “I’d like nothing better than to let you have it right now!”
Roger smiled, knowing Mason still harbored a grudge for the beating he had taken earlier on the trip.
“When you have him locked up, get back on the control deck,” said Loring. “We’re going to do some old-fashioned bargaining with ‘Blast-off’ Connel!”
“Bargaining?” exclaimed Roger.
“Yeah! One slightly used Space Cadet for what we came after—the copper satellite!”
“Connel won’t bargain,” said Roger. “Not for me, not for anything. You don’t know him!”
“I know this, Manning!” said Loring. “I’m going to get on the teleceiver and tell Connel that if he doesn’t blast away from here right now, you’re a dead Space Cadet!” He jerked his head toward the door. “All right, take him below and tell Shinny to stand by on the power deck. In case Connel won’t bargain, we’ll have to make a run for it!”
“Right,” said Mason as he shoved the paralo-ray gun deeper into Roger’s stomach. “Move, Manning!”
Roger climbed down the ladder and through the long passageway of the Space Devil. He passed Shinny on the way down.
“What’s going on here?” demanded Shinny, seeing Mason with the paralo-ray gun.
“We missed with the bomb,” said Mason, “and Connel raised ship. He’s ready to blast us if we don’t surrender right away. Loring’s trying to make a deal with him.”
“What kind of a deal?” asked Shinny.
“Hot-shot Manning for the satellite!”
“He hasn’t told you everything, Mr. Shinny,” said Roger in his casual drawl. “They are the ones who caused the crash of the Annie Jones and the deaths of Jardine and Bangs. They framed me!”
“Then,” mused Shinny, “you’re cleared?”
“Yeah,” growled Mason, “he’s cleared! Cleared for a long swim in space if Connel doesn’t do what Loring tells him! Get in there!” Mason shoved Roger into the cramped storage compartment. He locked the door and turned to Shinny.
“Loring wants you to stand by the power deck in case Connel won’t play ball. We might have to make a run for it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Shinny, “I’ll stand by the power deck.”
Mason turned and walked away. Shinny followed him, a curious gleam in his eyes.
Up on the control deck, Loring was twisting the dials in front of the teleceiver screen.
“Space Devil to Polaris—Space Devil to Polaris—come in, Polaris.” He twisted another dial and watched the darkened screen anxiously. After a moment the screen blurred, and Tom’s face gradually came into sharp focus.
“Loring!” gasped Tom. “Where’s Roger?”
“Never mind him, you punk!” snarled Loring. “Tell that fatheaded Connel I wanta talk to him! Make it fast!”
Tom’s face disappeared to be replaced by the raging features of Major Connel. “You murdering space rat!” he roared. “I’ve given you two minutes to surrender and, by the craters of Luna, you’ve only