by Anthology
"It's no good, Tom, I just can't understand that stuff." Astro turned and faced his unit-mates, his voice charged with sudden emotion. "Just fifteen minutes on the power deck of anything with rockets in her and I'll run her from here to the next galaxy. I--I can't explain it, but when I look at those motors, I can read 'em like you read an astrogation chart, Roger, or you the gauges on the control deck, Tom. But I just can't get those ratios out of a book. I gotta put my hands on those motors--touch 'em--I mean really touch 'em--then I know what to do!"
As suddenly as he had started, he stopped and turned, leaving Tom and Roger staring at him, startled by this unusual outburst.
"Cadets--stand to!" roared a voice from the doorway.
The three cadets snapped to attention and faced the entrance.
"Take it easy, Earthworms!" said Tony Richards. A tall cadet with closely cut black hair and a lazy, smiling face stood in the doorway.
"Lay off, Richards," said Tom. "We haven't time for gags now. Astro's going to take his power-deck manual in a few minutes and we're cramming with him."
"O.K.--O.K.--don't blow your jets," said Richards. "I just wanted to see if there were any bets on which unit would cop honors in the manuals this afternoon."
"I suppose you think your Unit 77-K will finish on top?" drawled Roger.
"I'd like to bet all the galley demerits we have in 77-K against yours."
"With Astro on our team?" complained Roger.
"What's the matter with Astro?" asked Richards. "From what I hear, he's hot stuff!" It wasn't a compliment, but a sharp dig made with a sly smile. Astro balled his huge hands into fists.
"Astro," said Roger, "is the type that can smell out trouble on any power deck. But today he came down with a cold. No, I'm afraid it's no bet, Richards."
"I'll give you two to one," Richards offered.
"Nothing doing," replied Roger. "Not even at five to one. Not with Astro."
Richards grinned, nodded and disappeared.
Roger turned to face the hard stare of Tom.
"That was the dirtiest sellout I've ever heard, Manning," Tom growled.
"Sorry, Corbett," said Roger. "I only bet on sure things."
"That's O.K. with me, Manning," said Astro, "but I'm afraid you sold yourself a hot rocket, because I'm going to pass!"
"Who are you kidding?" Roger laughed and sprawled on his bunk.
Astro took a quick step forward, his fists clenched, his face a mask of burning anger, but Tom quickly jumped in front of him.
"You'll be late for the exam, Astro!" he shouted. "Get going or it'll count against your mark!"
"Huh. What's a few points more or less when you're going to fail anyway," snorted Roger from the bunk.
Again, Astro started to lunge forward and Tom braced himself against the Venusian's charge, but suddenly the burly cadet stopped. Disengaging Tom's restraining arms, he spoke coldly to the sneering boy on the bed.
"I'm going to pass the exam, Manning. Get that? I'm going to pass and then come back and beat your head off!" Turning on his heel, he stalked out of the room.
Tom immediately wheeled to face Roger, fire in his eyes, and the arrogant cadet, sensing trouble, jumped to his feet to meet him.
"What's the idea of giving Astro a hard time?" demanded Tom.
"Cool off, Corbett," replied Roger warily. "You're fusing your tubes you're so hot."
"You bet I'm hot! Hot enough to blast you--again!" Tom deliberately spat out the last word.
Roger flushed and brought his fists up quickly as though to charge in, then suddenly dropped them again. He turned to the door and slowly walked out.
"Go blow your jets," his voice drifted back to Tom as he disappeared.
Tom stood there, looking at the empty door, almost blind with rage and frustration. He was failing in the main job assigned to him, that of keeping the unit on an even keel and working together. How could he command a crew out in space if he couldn't keep the friction of his own unit under control?
Slowly, he left the room to wait for Astro in the recreation hall where the results of the manuals would be announced. He thought of Astro, now probably deep in his exam, and wondered how bad it would be for him. Then another thought crossed his mind. Roger had said nothing of his own test and neither he nor Astro had even inquired.
He shook his head. No matter where the unit placed in the manuals, it just couldn't stay together.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER 7
It was customary for all Earthworm cadets to gather in the main recreation hall to wait for the results of the manuals which would be announced on the huge teleceiver screen. Since all the units were taking their tests that afternoon, the hall was crowded with green-clad cadets, talking in low murmurs and waiting tensely for the outcome of the exam.
Tom entered the huge room, looked around and then drifted toward Al Dixon, the senior cadet who had greeted them as a unit after passing classification tests. The blue-clad cadet was listening to a story spool, a device that told a story, rather than let the person read it from a book.
"Hiya, Corbett," said Dixon, smiling. "Drag up a chair. Listening to a terrific yarn about a guy stranded on an asteroid and then he finds--" The redheaded cadet's voice trailed off when he noticed that Tom wasn't listening.
"Say, what's the matter with you? You look like you just lost your best friend."
"Not yet, but it won't be long now," commented Tom, a trace of bitterness creeping into his voice. "Astro's taking his power-deck manual. What he knows about those compression ratios just isn't known. But he just can't get it on paper."
"Don't sell your unit-mate short," said Dixon, sensing something beneath Tom's comment. "I've heard that big fellow knows more about a rocket deck than McKenny."
"Yeah, that's true," said Tom, "but--"
"You know, Corbett," said Dixon, switching off the story spool, "there's something screwy in that outfit of yours."
"You can say that again," agreed Tom bitterly.
"You come in here with a face dragging on the floor, and Manning--"
Tom's head jerked up. "Manning! What about that space-gassing hot-shot?"
"--Manning just tore through the rec hall trying to get some of the other Earthworm units to bet their galley demerits against your outfit."
Tom's mouth sagged open. "You mean, he actually wanted to bet that Astro would pass?"
"Not just pass, Corbett, but he wanted to bet that your unit would be top rocket of the Earthworms! The head of the list!"
"But he told Astro that--" he stopped.
"Told him what?" Dixon asked.
"Ah--nothing--nothing--" said Tom. He jumped up and headed for the door.
"Hey, where are you going?"
"To find Manning. There are a couple of things I want to clear up."
Tom left Dixon shaking his head in bewilderment and jumped on the slidestairs. He was going to have it out with Roger once and for all. Hopping off the slidestairs onto the forty-second floor, he started down the long hall to his quarters.
Nearing the door, he heard Roger's laugh, and then his lazy voice talking to someone inside.
"Sure, they're dumb, but they're not bad guys," said Roger.
Tom walked into the room. Roger was sitting on the side of his bunk facing Tony Richards.
"Hiya, Corbett," said Roger, "did you hear how Astro made out yet?"
Tom ignored the question.
"I want to talk to you, Roger."
Roger eyed him suspiciously. "Sure, Corbett, go ahead."
"Well, I'll be going along," said Richards. He had heard about the previous fight between Manning and Corbett and didn't want to be hauled up as a witness later if they started again. "Remember, Manning," he called from the doorway, "the bet is two to one, and are you going to get tired of washing pots and pans!" He waved his hand at Corbett and disappeared.
"All right, Corbett," Roger turned to Tom. "What's frying you?"
"I just saw Al Dixon down in the
rec hall," answered Tom. "He told me you were looking for bets on the unit ratings. Is that why Richards was here?"
"That's right," nodded Roger.
"What made you say the things you did to Astro before he went for his manual?"
"Very simple. I wanted to make him pass and that was the only way."
"You're pretty sure of yourself, Roger."
"I'm always sure of myself, Corbett. And the sooner you learn that, the easier it'll be for all of us. I never bet unless it's in the bag. I know Astro's going to pass. Some guys have to have a fire built under them before they get moving. Astro's one of them."
"That doesn't answer my question," said Tom. "Why did you say the things you did before a guy goes to take an exam?"
"I said what I did to make Tony Richards give me odds. And to make Astro mad enough to pass. We're a cinch to win and Richards' outfit will be indebted to us for a year's worth of galley demerits." He smiled easily. "Smooth, huh?"
"I think it's rotten," said Tom. "Astro left here feeling like a plugged credit! And if he does fail, it'll be because you made him think he was the dumbest guy in the universe!"
"He probably is," mused Roger, "but he still won't fail that manual."
From the hallway behind them, a loud blasting yell was suddenly heard, echoing from somewhere on the lower floors. Tom and Roger waited, their eyes wide and hopeful. There was only one person at Space Academy capable of making such a noise.
"He made it!" Tom exclaimed.
"Of course he made it," said Roger casually.
Astro tore into 42-D with a mad rush.
"Yeeeoooooowwww!" He grabbed the two cadets and picked them up, one in each hand. "I made it--hands down--I handled those rocket motors like they were babes in arms! I told you that all I had to do was touch them and I'd know! I told you!"
"Congratulations, Astro," said Tom with a wide grin. "I knew you'd do it."
"Put me down, you oversized Venusian jerk," said Roger, almost good-naturedly. Astro released the smaller cadet and faced him.
"Well, hot-shot, I promised you something when I got back, didn't I?"
"Make it later, will you, and I'll be glad to oblige." He walked toward the door. "I've got to go down and collect a bet."
"What bet?" asked Astro.
"With Tony Richards."
"But I thought you were afraid to bet on me!"
"Not at all, Astro. I just wanted to make you mad enough to ensure my winning."
"That sounds like you were more worried about your bet than you were about Astro passing," snapped Tom.
"You're exactly right, spaceboy," purred Roger, standing in the doorway.
"That's our boy, Manning," growled Astro. "The great team man!"
"Team?" Roger took a step back into the room. "Don't make me laugh, Astro. For your information, tomorrow morning I'm putting in for a transfer to another unit!"
"What!" exclaimed Tom. "You can't trans--"
"Yes, I can," interrupted Roger. "Read your Academy regs. Anyone can request a transfer once the unit has passed its manuals."
"And what excuse are you going to use," snapped Astro bitterly. "That you can't take it?"
"A personality difference, Astro, my boy. You hate me and I hate you. It's a good enough reason, I think."
"It's just as well, hot-shot," replied Astro. "Because if you don't transfer, we will!"
Roger merely smiled, flipped his fingers to his forehead in an arrogant gesture of farewell and turned to leave again. But his path was blocked by the sudden appearance of Captain Steve Strong. The three cadets quickly braced.
The Solar Guard officer strode into the room, his face beaming. He looked at each of the boys, pride shining out of his eyes, and then brought his hand up and held it in salute.
"I just want to tell you boys one thing," he said solemnly. "It's the highest compliment I can pay you, or anyone." He paused. "All three of you are real spacemen!"
Tom and Astro couldn't repress smiles, but Roger's expression never changed.
"Then we passed as a unit, sir?" asked Tom eagerly.
"Not only passed, Corbett"--Strong's voice boomed in the small room--"but with honors. You're the top rockets of this Earthworm group! I'm proud to be your commanding officer!"
Again Tom and Astro fought back smiles of happiness and even Roger managed a small grin.
"This is the fightingest group of cadets I've ever seen," Strong continued. "Frankly, I was a little worried about your ability to pull together but the results of the manuals showed that you have. You couldn't have made it without working as a unit."
Strong failed to notice Roger's face darken, and Tom and Astro look at each other meaningfully.
"My congratulations for having solved that problem too!" Strong saluted them again and walked toward the door, where he paused. "By the way, I want you to report to the Academy spaceport tomorrow at eight hundred hours. Warrant Officer McKenny has something out there he wants to show you."
Tom's eyes bugged out and he stepped forward.
"Sir," he gasped, scarcely able to get the question past his lips, "you don't mean we're--we're going to--"
"You're absolutely right, Corbett. There's a brand-new rocket cruiser out there. Your ship. Your future classroom. You'll report to her in the blues of the Space Cadets! And from now on your unit identification is the name of your ship! The rocket cruiser Polaris!"
A second later, Strong had vanished down the corridor, leaving Tom and Astro hugging each other and clapping each other on the back in delirious joy.
Roger merely stood to one side, a sarcastic smile on his face.
"And now, as we prepare to face the unknown dangers of space," he said bitingly, "let us unite our voices and sing the Academy hymn together! Huh!" He strode toward the door. "Don't they ever get tired of waving that flag around here?"
Before Tom and Astro could reply, he had disappeared. The big Venusian shrugged his shoulders. "I just don't understand that guy!"
But Tom failed to reply. He had turned toward the window and was staring out past the gleaming white Tower of Galileo into the slowly darkening skies of evening to the east. For the moment, the problems of Roger Manning and the unit were far away. He was thinking of the coming morning when he would dress in the blues of a Space Cadet for the first time and step into his own ship as command pilot. He was thinking of the morning when he would be a real spaceman!
[Illustration]
CHAPTER 8
The campus of Space Academy was quiet that evening. Only a few cadets were still out on the quadrangle, lounging around in the open before returning to their quarters for bed-check.
On the forty-second floor of the dormitory building, two thirds of the newly formed Polaris unit, Tom and Astro, were in heated argument.
"All right, all right, so the guy is brilliant," said Astro. "But who can live with him? Not even himself!"
"Maybe he is a little difficult," replied Tom, "but somehow, we've got to adjust to him!"
"How about him adjusting to us? It's two against one!" Astro shambled to the window and looked out moodily. "Besides, he's putting in for a transfer and there's nothing we can do about it!"
"Maybe he won't now--not after that little speech Captain Strong made this afternoon."
"If he doesn't, then, blast it, I will!"
"Aw, now take it easy, Astro!"
"Take it easy, nothing!" Astro was building up a big head of steam. "Where is that space crawler right now?"
"I don't know. He never came back. Wasn't even down at mess tonight."
"There, that's just what I mean!" Astro turned to Tom to press his point. "It's close to bed-check and he isn't in quarters yet. If the MP's catch him outside after hours, the whole unit will be logged and there goes our chance of blasting off tomorrow!"
"But there's still time, Astro," replied Tom lamely.
"Not much there isn't. It just shows you what he thinks of the unit! He just doesn't care!" Astro paced the floor angrily. "
There's only one thing to do! He gets his transfer--or we do! Or--" he paused and looked at Tom meaningfully, "or I do."
"You're not thinking, Astro," argued Tom. "How will that look on your record? Every time there's a trip into deep space, they yank out your file to see how you operate under pressure with other guys. When they see that you asked for a transfer from your unit, that's it!"