Tom nodded. "You're right," he said.
"Now wait a minute!" said Roger angrily. "I went to a lot of trouble to get these things for you—"
"Look, Roger," Tom interrupted, "I would rather have one night with those spools than a two-week leave in Atom City right now. But the Capella unit is having a tough time making the Spring passing lists. They need those spools more than we do."
"Yeah," said Astro. "We could probably take the tests now and pass, but they really have to study. I'm for getting them back to the Capella unit right now. How about you, Tom?"
The young cadet nodded and turned to Roger who stood there, frowning. "Roger," said Tom, "both Astro and I really appreciate it. But you wouldn't want the Capella unit to flunk out of the Academy, would you?"
Roger gnawed at his thumbnail and then looked at his two unit mates sheepishly. "You're right, fellas," he said. "It was kind of a dirty trick. Give me the spools. I'll take them back to Tony right now."
"Wait a minute!" exclaimed Astro. "It's after hours. We're not supposed to be out of the dorm."
For a second the three boys looked at each other hesitantly. Then, as though they had telepathically conveyed their individual decisions to each other, they turned toward the door. Tom opened it and stepped out into the hall cautiously, then turned back and nodded. Roger and Astro followed him quickly.
As Roger closed the door behind him, he murmured, "There's no reason for all of us to go. I was the one who took the spools, so I should bring them back. Why should you two guys risk getting caught?"
Astro punched him in the shoulder fondly. "We always work together, don't we?" he declared. "If one's gonna get into trouble, we all should."
"Let's go," urged Tom in a sharp whisper, and they all raced silently toward the slidestairs.
Seconds later, the three cadets of the Polaris unit were down in the main hallway of the dormitory building, tiptoeing toward the front portal. Pausing only to look into the O.D.'s office to make sure the officer wouldn't spot them, they reached the portal and ducked out. Pausing again to scan the immediate area for any watch officers, they darted across the slidewalk and into the shadows of the shrubbery.
Quickly and soundlessly, they raced across the green lawn of the quadrangle toward the dormitory where the Capella unit was quartered. Once they sprawled headlong on the turf and lay still as a watch officer suddenly appeared out of the darkness at the base of the Tower of Galileo. But he walked past without seeing them and they continued on across the quadrangle.
Reaching another clump of shrubbery right opposite the Capella unit's dormitory, the boys stopped and discussed their final move.
"This is getting ridiculous," whispered Roger. "I shouldn't have let you two come with me. But I'm going the rest of the way myself."
"We came this far, Roger," asserted Tom. "We'll go the rest of the way and help you explain."
"And you've got a space-blasting lot to explain."
The three cadets whirled as a familiar voice snarled out of the darkness behind them. They saw three figures, all in cadet uniforms, wearing the insigne of the Capella unit. In the forefront was Tony Richards scowling angrily.
"Tony!" gasped Tom. "What are you doing out here?"
"We were on our way over to your dorm, Corbett," growled Tony Richards. "We saw you three sneaking across the quadrangle."
"Coming to pay us a visit, fellas?" asked Roger blandly.
"You know blasted well why we were coming," snapped McAvoy, the second member of the Capella crew.
Davison, the third member of the unit, stepped forward. "Give us back our study spools," he demanded.
"Take it easy," said Tom in a calm voice. "We were bringing them back to you."
"I'll bet," snapped McAvoy.
"Relax," growled Astro. "Tom said we were returning them. We admit it was a dirty trick, but you haven't lost much time. Half an hour maybe."
"Don't try to cover for Manning, Astro," said Tony heatedly. "It's a shame you two guys are stuck with a bad rocket like Manning in your unit."
"Bad rocket!" exclaimed Roger.
"Now, wait a minute, Tony," Tom said, advancing toward the broad-shouldered cadet. "We are returning the spools, and we apologize for yanking them from the Earthworm. But that doesn't mean we'll listen to that kind of talk about Roger."
"He stole them, didn't he?" retorted Davison.
Roger stepped forward. "Davy, my boy," he said in a low controlled tone, "I don't like that remark. I've got a notion to make you eat that word."
"I don't think you can, Manning," replied the angry cadet.
Tom stepped between them quickly. "Listen, fellows, we don't want any trouble. Here are the spools." He held them out.
"That's what I mean, Corbett," said McAvoy sarcastically. "Manning gets you in trouble and then you and the big boy have to bail him out."
"We've apologized," retorted Astro angrily. "You're getting the spools back. So no more cracks about Roger."
"I can take care of myself, Astro," said Roger.
"Here, take the spools and get back to your dorm," growled Tom. He handed the pile of spools over, but as Tony extended his hands, one of the spools dropped to the grass. No one made a move to pick it up.
"There are the spools," said Tom icily. "Now beat it."
"Let's go," said Davison, leaning over to pick up the spool. "The air is beginning to stink around here."
Red-faced, Roger stepped forward and put his foot on the spool just as Davison reached for it. "That's enough, Davison," he snarled.
"Why, you dirty space crawler—" Davison straightened up and swung wildly. Roger ducked the blow easily, then spun the heavy-set cadet around and pushed him back into the bushes.
Tony Richards stepped forward and Astro turned to him threateningly, but Tom quickly shoved them aside and faced Richards.
"Listen, Tony," he said. "We're all out after hours, and if a watch officer spots us, we've had it. We don't want any trouble." He glanced at Davison, who was being restrained by McAvoy. "We apologize. Now get out of here before we're all logged."
Richards nodded and started to turn to his unit mates when suddenly Davison jerked free and lunged at Roger. The blond-haired cadet was not caught unawares. He stepped aside and threw a quick jolting right straight to the Capella cadet's jaw. Davison staggered back and fell to the ground. He shook his head, jumped to his feet again, and charged back with a roar.
Both Tom and Astro and Tony Richards and McAvoy grabbed at their respective unit mates and tried to restrain them. In the struggle to keep Roger and Davison apart, Astro accidentally pushed Richards to one side.
"What in blazes—!" yelled Richards. He suddenly released Davison and gave Astro a shove that sent the big cadet sprawling. And then, without warning, McAvoy swung at Tom. The curly-haired cadet saw the blow coming a fraction of a second too late and caught it on the side of his head. He fell back into the bushes.
Roger yelled in anger at the sudden attack, and grabbing Davison by the front of his tunic, slammed a hard right into the cadet's stomach. Richards grabbed Roger, holding him around the head and neck, as McAvoy swung at him viciously. Seeing their unit mate pommeled, Tom and Astro charged back and the battle was on. The two units forgot about the watch officers and the strong possibility of being caught and slugged it out in the darkness of the quadrangle. The fight seemed to be the climax of a long-standing feud. The Polaris crew had first come to grips with Richards and his unit mates when they were assigned to the old rocket cruiser Arcturus. When the ship was scrapped, the cadets were transferred to the Capella, but the rivalry continued stronger than before. Time and time again, the two crack units had competed for hours on the athletic fields, in space flight tests, and in the classroom. The Polaris unit had constantly come out ahead, often by no more than a fraction of points, but their superiority was clear, and the Capella unit could not repress its resentment and jealousy.
Tony Richards and Tom had squared off and were boxing with ligh
tninglike thrusts of their fists, each waiting for an opening. In back of them, Roger and Davison were simply hammering away at each other's mid-sections, and Astro and McAvoy were rolling around on the ground like bears, growling and tugging. It was brute strength against brute strength.
Tom danced away from Richards' rapierlike left, weaved low, and shot a hard right to his opponent's stomach that left him gasping. Richards doubled over and stepped in to bring up a solid right, then hesitated. Richards was through. The blow to the mid-section had taken all the fight out of him. Tom refused to pursue his advantage while the other could not fight back. His anger cooling rapidly, Tom realized that the whole fight was nothing more than a misunderstanding. As Richards sank to the grass helpless and gasping for breath, Tom turned to break up the other two fights. But Roger was just finishing his battle with Davison. Feinting to the mid-section and pulling Davison's guard down, Roger hooked his left cleanly to the jaw, following immediately with a haymaker right. Davison dropped to the turf, out cold.
Meanwhile, Astro had rolled on top of the last cadet of the Capella unit, and with his great strength, clamped McAvoy's arms to his side. Face to face, the two cadets glared at each other. The muscles tightened in Astro's arms, and beads of sweat popped out on his face.
"Give up!" demanded the Venusian, tightening his grip.
Tom shot a hard right to his opponent's stomach
Slowly McAvoy sagged under the pressure Astro was applying and his face began to redden.
"He'll break his back," whispered Roger to Tom.
Tom nodded and stepped forward. "Let him go, Astro. He's finished."
Astro did not let go. His face was white with anger. McAvoy bent further back. "Give up," demanded Astro.
"Grab him," said Tom to Roger. "Get him off Mac before he breaks his back."
Tom and Roger jumped to Astro's side and each grabbed one of the powerful arms encircling McAvoy. It took all their strength to break the viselike hold the giant Venusian had on the other cadet, but slowly they pulled the muscular arms back and McAvoy slumped to the grass.
The three victorious cadets paused and looked down at the beaten Capella crew, then looked at each other.
"Well," sighed Roger, "I suppose that the least we can do now is get them back to their dorm."
Tom and Astro nodded. As the three boys started forward they were stopped by a voice behind them—a voice that roared like an atomic blast.
"Stand to!"
Whirling around in surprise for the second time within a space of ten minutes, Tom, Astro, and Roger saw a menacing sight standing behind them, his balled fists jammed on his hips, his booted legs widespread, and his massive head thrust forward. It was Major Lou Connel, more familiarly known as "Blast-off" Connel, a Senior Line Officer of the Solar Guard and the sternest disciplinarian in the whole Academy. Behind him stood a short, thin man, whom none of the boys recognized.
Connel stepped forward slowly and menacingly, glaring at the three boys.
"Out a little late, aren't you, boys?" he asked with a mildness that sent a chill down their spines.
"Y-yes sir," replied Tom, a slight tremor in his voice.
"On official business, I presume?" The major's voice was still as smooth as silk.
Tom gulped and then shook his head. "N-no, sir," he quavered.
Connel's eyes widened in mock horror. "Why, Corbett," he exclaimed, "didn't anyone ever tell you the rules of Space Academy? Or perhaps you didn't know what time it was?"
Tom bit his lip. He knew that he and his unit mates were caught in a hopeless trap and that Connel was simply baiting them. "I knew what time it was, sir," he said. "We're out after hours."
Suddenly there was a movement in the brush behind Tom as McAvoy stumbled to his feet. Richards also sat up groggily.
"Major!" It was the man behind Connel who spoke. "Who are they?"
As though in answer, Davison stood up too and the three members of the Capella unit were suddenly and horribly aware of the presence of Connel. They immediately braced themselves, their faces white with sudden fear.
"So!" Now the major's voice began to roar again. "Fighting, eh? Well, now we really have something here."
"Sir," began Richards tremulously, "if you'll let us explain—"
"I'll let you explain all right," thundered Connel. "Out after hours, fighting, you'll have a great time explaining to an inquiry."
"An inquiry!" Tom exclaimed involuntarily.
"Did you expect anything less?" roared Connel. "You are all under arrest and confined to quarters."
The six cadets all trembled but said nothing, standing at rigid attention, eyes straight ahead.
"Return to your quarters immediately."
As one, the cadets wheeled and marched off. Tom, Astro, and Roger walked across the quadrangle back to their dorm, and the Capella unit took the slidewalk that led to their quarters. Connel watched them go, a ferocious scowl on his craggy features.
"Little rough on them, weren't you, Major?" asked the man who stood beside the Solar Guard officer.
"Rules are meant to be obeyed, Professor Hemmingwell," retorted Connel stiffly.
"Perhaps you're right," mused the stranger. "But what's this about an inquiry?"
"A trial, Professor. A trial conducted by the cadets themselves to see whether or not the accused should be kicked out of the Academy."
"Kicked out?" exclaimed the professor. "You certainly do believe in discipline."
"These boys are to be Solar Guardsmen," replied Connel shortly. "If they can't obey orders now, they never will."
"Well, it's all very unimportant really, Major," Hemmingwell said with a shrug. "We have many more vital things to think about now than mere cadets. Shall we go? Commander Walters is waiting for us."
As the little man in civilian clothes walked away, Connel stifled a blistering retort. True, his mission here at the Academy was of great importance. But cadets were important too. And he was afraid. The Polaris unit was in grave trouble, grave enough to cause expulsion from the Academy.
CHAPTER 2
Space Academy, U.S.A.!
This was the dream and goal of every boy in the thrilling year 2354, when mankind had reached out beyond the bounds of Earth and had conquered space, colonizing planets and blazing trails to distant worlds deep in the black void of the outer universe. To support the ever-growing need for trained spacemen to man the rocket ships that linked the planets and distant satellite outposts, the Solar Alliance, the government of the solar system, had erected Space Academy. It was there that the most promising boys were trained to become members of the Solar Guard to patrol the space lanes and keep peace in the universe.
Organized into tight, hard-hitting units of three, the Academy cadets were trained to work together under the most severe conditions. Their waking hours were spent in one of two places; in powerful rocket cruisers, blasting through space on endless training missions, or at the Academy in classrooms and lecture halls, where they studied everything from the theory of space flight to the application of space laws. A very important course of study was the theory of government. For, above all else, the Solar Alliance was a government of the people. And to assure the survival and continuance of that democratic system, the officers of the Solar Guard functioned as the watchdogs of the space democracy, entrusted with the vital mission of making sure the government reflected the will of the people.
As a practical approach to this course, the Academy officials had established a Cadet Council for the settlement of disputes and infractions of rules by the cadets. It was to this cadet governing body that the fight between the Polaris and the Capella units was referred by Major Connel.
The Academy had buzzed with talk since the fight, and sides were drawn hard and fast. Both units were extremely popular and the arguments raged through the dormitories as to which unit was at fault.
Meanwhile, the Cadet Council decided to have a full trial to give each unit a fair chance to defend itself against the ch
arges. A judge and jury were selected and lawyers appointed for each side. Finally a date was set for the trial.
During this time, Tom, Roger, and Astro were confined to their quarters. They did not talk much, each conscious of the fact that should the Cadet Council decide against them, they might be expelled from the Academy. The same was true about the Capella unit, of course, but the Council might decide the Polaris had instigated the whole affair. Roger was particularly silent, since his actions in obtaining the study spools had started the whole chain of disastrous events.
The boys did not know which cadet would be appointed to defend them until late the following afternoon when there was a knock on the door, and a small, thin cadet, wearing a thick pair of eyeglasses that gave him a decided owllike look, entered the room.
"Alfie Higgins!" cried Tom.
"The Brain!" yelled Astro.
"Glad to see you, pal!" shouted Roger.
The three cadets surrounded little Alfie and pommeled him playfully in their joy at seeing another cadet. Alfie merely looked at them gravely.
"Hello, Tom, Roger, Astro," he said somberly.
"What are you doing here?" asked Tom. "We're not allowed visitors."
"I'm not a visitor, Tom," replied the little cadet. "I'm your defense lawyer." He glanced at Roger and Astro. "I hope that will be satisfactory to you."
"Satisfactory!" exclaimed Tom. "Alfie, we couldn't ask for anyone better."
"That's right, Brain," said Roger. "You're the boy for us."
Astro grunted his approval. "Yeah."
"Well, in that case," said Alfie, opening his brief case, "I would suggest that we get right down to the facts. The trial is tomorrow."
"All right, Alfie, we're ready," said Tom. "I suppose you want to hear the whole thing."
"If you don't mind," said Alfie, adjusting his eyeglasses. "You start, Roger."
Sitting around the room, relaxed, yet concerned, the four cadets discussed the details of the case. Alfie took copious notes, occasionally interrupting Tom or Roger or Astro to ask a pointed question.
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