Carey Rockwell

The Tom Corbett Space Cadet Megapack


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      “Who’s going to do all that?” snapped Loring. “A bunch of punk kids and a loudmouthed Solar Guard officer?”

      “Yeah,” retorted Roger.

      “Cadet Manning!” Connel’s voice roared over the intercom. “You were ordered to report to the control deck in five minutes! You are already one minute late! Report to the control deck on the double and I mean double!”

      Loring and Mason laughed. “Old ‘Blast-off’ Connel’s really got your number, eh, kid?”

      “Ah, rocket off, you pinheaded piece of space junk! It didn’t take him long to dampen your tubes!”

      Connel roared again. “Blast your hide, Manning, report!”

      “Better raise ship, Manning,” said Loring, “you might get another nasty demerit!”

      Roger turned away and raced to the control deck. He entered breathlessly and stood beside his unit-mates while Connel eyed him coldly.

      “Thank you, Cadet Manning,” said Connel. “We appreciate your being here!”

      “Yes, sir,” mumbled Roger.

      “All right,” barked Connel, “you know your assignments. We’ll take the jet boats as before and go out in pairs. Tom and myself, Astro and Roger, and Shinny and Alfie. We’ll set up the reaction charges on Junior at the points marked on the chart screen here.” He indicated the chart on the projection. “Copy them down on your own charts. Each team will take three of the reaction units. My team will set up at points one, two, and three. Astro and Roger at four, five, and six. Alfie and Shinny at seven, eight, and nine. After you’ve set up the charges, attach the triggers for the fuses and return to the ship. Watch your timing! If we fail, it’ll be more than a year before Junior will be in the same orbital position again. How much time do we have left, Corbett?”

      Tom glanced at the clock. “Exactly two hours, sir,” he said.

      “Not much,” said Connel, “but enough. It shouldn’t take more than an hour and a half to set up the units and get back to the ship to blast off. All clear? Any questions?”

      There were no questions.

      “All right,” said the officer, “put on your space gear and move out!”

      Handling the lead-encased charges carefully, the six spacemen loaded the jet boats and, one by one, blasted off from the Polaris to positions marked on the map.

      Working rapidly, each of the teams of two moved from one position to another on the surface of the desolate satellite. Connel, referring constantly to his watch, counted the minutes as one by one the teams reported the installation of a reactor unit.

      “This is Shinny. Just finished installing reaction charge one at point seven…”

      “This is Manning. Just finished installing reaction charge at point four…”

      One after the other, the teams reported. Connel, with Tom piloting the jet boat, finished setting up their units at points one, two, and three and headed back to the Polaris.

      “How much time, sir?” asked Tom as he slowed the small craft for a landing.

      “Less than a half hour, Corbett,” said Connel nervously. “I’d better check on Shinny and Alfie.” He called into the audiophone. “Major Connel to Shinny and Higgins, come in Shinny—Higgins!”

      “Shinny here!” came the reply. “We’re just finishing up the last unit. Should be back in five minutes.”

      “Make it snappy!” said Connel. “Less than a half hour left!”

      “We’ll make it,” snorted Shinny.

      “Coming in for a touchdown,” said Tom. “Better strap in, sir!”

      Connel nodded. He laced several straps across his lap and chest, gripping the sides of the seat. Tom sent the jet boat in a swooping dive, cut the acceleration, and brought the small ship smoothly inside the huge air lock in the side of the Polaris.

      “I’d better get right up on the control deck and start warming up the circuits, sir,” said Tom.

      “Good idea, Tom,” said Connel. “I’ll try and pick up Manning and Astro.”

      Tom left the officer huddling over the communicator in the jet boat.

      “Major Connel to Manning and Astro, come in!” called Connel. He waited for a moment and then repeated. “Manning—Astro, come in! By the rings of Saturn, come in!” There was the loud roar of an approaching jet boat. Shinny guided the ship into the Polaris with a quick violent blast of the braking rockets. The noise was deafening.

      “Belay that noise, you blasted space-brained idiot!” roared Connel. “Cut that acceleration!”

      Shinny grinned and cut the rockets. The jet-boat catapult deck was quiet, and Connel turned back to the communicator.

      “Come in, Manning—Astro! This is Major Connel. Come in!”

      On the opposite side of the airless satellite, Roger and Astro were busy digging a hole in the hard surface. Near by lay the last of the explosive units to be installed. Connel’s voice thundered through their headset phones.

      “Boy, is he blasting his jets!” commented Roger.

      “Yeah,” grunted Astro. “He should have to dig this blasted hole!”

      “Well, this is where it’s got to go. If the ground is hard, then it’s our tough luck,” said Roger. “If we stick it anywhere else, it might mess up the whole operation.”

      Astro nodded and continued to dig. He held a small spade and jabbed at the ground. “How much—time—have we got left?” he gasped.

      “Twenty minutes,” replied Roger. “You’d better hurry.”

      “Finished now,” said Astro. “Get the reactor unit over here and set the fuse.”

      Roger picked up the heavy lead box and placed it gently inside the hole.

      “Remember,” Astro cautioned, “set the fuse for two hours.”

      “No, you’re wrong,” replied Roger. “I’ve set the fuses each time, subtracting the amount of time since we left the Polaris. I set this one for twenty minutes.”

      “You’re wrong, Roger,” said Astro. “It’s maximum time is two hours.”

      “Listen, you Venusian clunk,” exploded Roger, “I built this thing, so I know what I’m doing!”

      “But, Roger—” protested Astro.

      “Twenty minutes!” said Roger, and twisted the set-screw in the fuse. “O.K., it’s all set. Let’s get out of here!”

      The two cadets raced back to the jet boat and blasted off immediately. Once in space, Astro turned to Roger.

      “Better check in with Major Connel before he tears himself to pieces!”

      “Yeah,” agreed Roger. “I guess you’re right.” He flipped on the audio communicator. “Attention! Attention! Manning to Major Connel. Am making flight back to Polaris. All installations complete.”

      “What took you so long, Manning?” barked Connel in reply. “And why didn’t you answer me?”

      “Couldn’t, sir,” said Roger. “We had a tough time digging a hole for the last unit.”

      “Come back to the Polaris immediately,” said Connel. “We’re blasting off in fifteen minutes.”

      “Very well, sir,” said Roger.

      Presently the jet boat circled the Polaris and made a landing run for the open port. Roger braked the small craft and brought it to rest alongside the others.

      “That’s