“Cut the chatter, both of you!” snapped Strong. “Astro, execute course change!”
Astro’s reply was a blast on the steering rockets. On the control deck, Strong watched the needle of the astral compass swing around and stop dead on the course he had ordered.
“All set, Astro!” shouted Strong. “Right on course. Now pile on the neutrons!”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
On the power deck, the big cadet turned to his control panel, took a deep breath, and opened the reactant feeders wide. The ship leaped through the airless void under the sudden burst of power and Astro watched the acceleration indicator climb to the danger line. He gulped as the needle passed the danger point and was about to cut down speed when the needle stopped. Astro breathed easily and settled back satisfied. If it was up to him, they would reach Tom in record time.
Up on the radar deck, Roger continued to read the flashing signals on the radar scanner. Over and over, he read the same message.
“I guess that’s all he can say, sir,” said Roger, turning to Strong.
“Yes, I guess so, Roger,” agreed Strong. “He’s probably sending it out blind, on an open circuit, hoping that anyone near enough would pick it up. Wonder how he did it?”
Roger thought a moment. “I’m not sure, sir, but I think he’s crossed the impulse on the scanner from positive to negative.”
“How do you mean?” asked Strong. The young captain was well acquainted with the principle of radar but, admittedly, could not match Roger’s natural ability.
“By making the impulse negative, sir,” said Roger, “he could create interference on the scanner. Instead of bouncing against something and returning an image to a scanner, the impulse hits itself and creates static which shows up in the form of those white flashes.”
“Well, in any case,” said Strong with a sober nod toward the scanner, “he’s done something the whole Solar Guard couldn’t do. He’s quite a boy!”
Roger smiled. “I’ll say he is, skipper!”
Strong turned away and climbed down to the control deck. He sat in front of the great control panel and watched the countless dials and needles. But his mind wasn’t on the delicate handling of the great ship. He was thinking about Tom, alone aboard a ship with a crew of desperate criminals.
Tom had taken his life in his hands to send out the message, that much Strong was sure of! And the young skipper noted with pride that there was no appeal for help in the desperate call.
He shook his head wearily and flipped the teleceiver switch to report to Commander Walters.
* * * *
“Emergency…attention.…” Tom continued to tap out the message slowly and carefully. Behind him, he could hear Brooks hammering against the locker door. Tom felt like opening the door and freezing the pirate with his paralo-ray gun to keep him quiet, but he didn’t dare to stop sending.
Finally Tom decided it was time to go. “If anyone’s going to pick up the message,” he thought, “they’ve picked it up by now. I may still have time to get away in a jet boat.”
He tied the wires together, causing a continuous interference to be sent out, and secured the radar casing. “If I’m lucky enough to get away in a jet boat,” thought Tom, “at least they won’t be able to pick me up on that!”
Without a glance at the locker where Brooks continued to pound and yell, Tom turned to the hatch leading to the passageway. He gripped the paralo-ray gun and opened the hatch. Peering into the passageway and finding it deserted, he slipped out and closed the hatch behind him. From below, he could hear the roar of the crew as the last of them received his share of the stolen credits.
Tom raced down the companionway toward the jet-boat deck. He made the first deck safely and was about to climb down to the next when he was spotted by Attardi, the scar-faced spaceman, who stood at the bottom of the ladder.
“Hey, Kid!” Attardi shouted. “The skipper’s been looking for ya. You got the biggest cut. Three thousand credits for that fancy shooting you did!”
Tom noticed the gleam of the knife at the man’s side. The young cadet could imagine the criminal sinking the knife in his back without hesitation, if he suspected anything.
“Well,” demanded Attardi, “are you going to collect or not? The skipper sent me to look for you.”
Tom smiled, and while still smiling, whipped the paralo-ray gun into sight and fired. His aim was true. Attardi froze, every nerve in his body paralyzed. He could still breathe and his heart continued to beat, but otherwise, he was a living statue, unable to even blink his eyes.
Tom jumped past the spaceman and dashed for the jet-boat deck. He had to hurry now. Attardi would be discovered any moment and be neutralized. When neutralized, the victim returned to normal, with only violent muscle soreness remaining.
Tom reached the jet-boat deck, opened the hatch, and raced for the nearest small craft. Suddenly from behind he could hear the buzz of a paralo-ray on neutralizing charge. Attardi had been discovered.
Tom jumped into the nearest jet boat, closed the hatch, and pressed the button releasing the sliding side of the ship’s hull. Slowly, the great wall of metal slid back exposing the cold black velvet of deep space. As soon as the opening was wide enough, Tom pressed the acceleration lever and the small ship shot out, its jets roaring.
Tom quickly glanced around to locate his position by the stars and saw that he was close to the asteroid belt. He opened up to full acceleration, and since there was nothing else to do but wait for time to pass and hope for escape, he began to examine the contents of the small ship. He opened the emergency food locker and was relieved to see it fully stocked with synthetics and water. Every second carried him farther away from the Avenger, and when he looked back, Tom saw no evidence of pursuit. The cadet smiled. They would depend on the radar to find him, instead of sending out the other jet boats. Tom almost laughed out loud. With the radar jammed, he was safe. He would make it. Once inside the asteroids, they would never find him.
Glancing around the few indicators on the control board of the small vessel, Tom’s smile changed to a grimace of sudden terror. The jet boat had not been refueled after their raid on the jet liner. There was less than three days’ oxygen remaining in the tanks. In three days the jet boat would become an airless shell. A vacuum no different than the cold silent void of space!
CHAPTER 15
“What’s our position, Roger?” Captain Strong called into the intercom.
“Space quadrant B, section twenty-three, sir,” replied Roger from the radar bridge. “But I can’t see a thing on the radar. That static flash Tom sent out is scrambling everything.”
“But you’re sure this is our position?”
“Yes, sir. I checked it three times.”
“All right, then,” said Strong grimly. “There’s only one thing to do. We’re too near the asteroid belt to use the Polaris without radar, so we’ll search in jet boats. Astro! We’re parking right here! Give me full braking rockets and secure the power deck. Then prepare the jet boats for flight.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” came the reply from the Venusian.
The ship bucked under the tremendous power of the braking rockets and came to a dead stop in space. Strong dashed up the ladder to the radar bridge where Roger was still hunched before the radar scanner.
“Any chance of switching the scanner to another frequency and offsetting the effects of the static, Roger?” asked the Solar Guard captain.
Roger shook his head. “I don’t think so, sir. The interference would have to be eliminated at its source.”
“Well,” sighed Strong, “to go looking for Tom without the help of radar would be like looking for an air bubble in the ammonia clouds of Jupiter. And we don’t even know if he’s still aboard the Avenger or not!”
“You know, sir,” said Roger speculatively, “I’ve been thinking. I might be able to get a fix on this interference.”
“A fix? How?”
“By blanking out the radar range, so that
it would only work at one point of the compass at one time, then testing each heading separately until the flash appears. When it does, we’d at least know in which direction to blast off and trail Coxine.
“If you can do that, Roger,” exclaimed Strong, “it would take us right into Coxine’s lap! Do you think you can work it?”
“I can try, sir.”
“All right, then,” decided Strong. “Astro and I will take the jet boats and go looking around. Meantime, you stay aboard and try to pin point the heading on that flash.”
“Very well, sir,” replied Roger, and turned to the radar to begin the complicated task of rewiring the instrument.
Strong went directly to the jet-boat deck where Astro was busily preparing the jet boats for flight. He looked up when Strong entered the hatch.
“All ready, sir,” he said.
“Very well,” said Strong. “I’ll take number one, you take number two. We’re in section twenty-three of quadrant B. You take section twenty-two and I’ll take twenty-four.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Astro. “Do you think there’s any chance of finding Tom?”
“I don’t even know if he’s out here, Astro. But we can’t be sure he isn’t. So we’ll search and hope for the best.”
“Very well, sir.”
“Keep your jet-boat audioceiver open all the time and maintain contact with me.”
“Why not contact Roger here on the Polaris, sir?” asked Astro.
“He’s busy trying to find out where the flashing static on the radar is coming from,” explained Strong. “We’ll make wide circles, starting outside and working in. Blast in a continuous circle inward, like a spiral. If there’s anything around here, we’ll find it that way.”
“Yes, sir,” said Astro. “I sure hope Tom is O.K.”
“Best answer I can give you. Astro, is to blast off and find out.”
The two spacemen climbed into the small craft, and while Strong opened the outer lock, exposing them to the emptiness of space, Astro started the jets in his boat. With a wave of his hand to Strong, he roared away from the sleek rocket cruiser. Strong followed right on his tail. They circled the Polaris twice, establishing their positions, and then roared away from each other to begin their search.
Astro turned his midget space vessel toward the asteroid belt, ahead and below him. Choosing a large asteroid that he estimated to be on the outer edge of section twenty-two, he roared full power toward it. The tiny space bodies that made up the dangerous path around the sun, between Mars and Jupiter, loomed ahead ominously. Moving toward them under full rocket thrust, the Venusian cadet remembered fleetingly stories of survivors of space wrecks, reaching the airless little planetoids, only to die when help failed to arrive. He shuddered at the thought of Tom, a helpless castaway on one of the asteroids, waiting to be saved. Astro clenched his teeth and concentrated on the search, determined to investigate every stone large enough to support an Earthman.
Miles away, no longer visible to Astro and out of sight of the giant rocket cruiser, Captain Strong felt the same helplessness as he approached the asteroid belt from a different angle. He realized any number of things could have happened on the pirate-ship. Tom could have been captured, or if not yet discovered, unable to escape from the ship. Strong’s throat choked up with fierce pride over the gallant effort Tom had made to warn the Solar Guard of the Avenger’s position.
As he neared the outer edges of the belt, he concentrated on guiding his small ship in and around the drifting asteroids, his eyes constantly sweeping the area around him for some sign of a drifting space-suited figure. What Strong really hoped for was the sight of a jet boat, since in a jet boat, Tom would have a better chance of survival.
The young captain reached the outer edge of his search perimeter, turned the small ship into a long-sweeping curve, and flipped on the audioceiver.
“Attention! Attention! Jet boat one to jet boat two! Come in, Astro!”
Across the wide abyss of space that separated the two men, Astro heard his skipper’s voice crackle in his headphones.
“Astro here, sir,” he replied.
“I’m beginning my sweep, Astro. Any luck?”
“Not a thing, sir.”
“All right. Let’s go, and keep a sharp eye out.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” replied Astro. He could not keep the worry out of his voice, and Strong, many miles away, nodded in silent agreement with Astro’s feelings.
* * * *
The Avenger had long since disappeared and Tom was left alone in space in the tiny jet boat. To conserve his oxygen supply, the curly-haired cadet had set the controls of his boat on a steady orbit around one of the larger asteroids and lay down quietly on the deck. One of the first lessons he had learned at Space Academy was, during an emergency in space when oxygen was low, to lie down and breath as slowly as possible. And, if possible, to go to sleep. Sleep, under such conditions, served two purposes. While relaxed in sleep, the body used less oxygen and should help fail to arrive, the victim would slip into a suffocating unconsciousness, not knowing if and when death took the place of life.
Tom lay on the deck of the small vessel and stared at the distant stars through the clear crystal roof of his jet boat. He breathed as lightly as he could, taking short, slight breaths, holding them as long as he could and then exhaling only when his lungs felt as if they would burst. He could see Regulus overhead, and Sirius, the two great stars shining brilliantly in the absolute blackness of space. He raised himself slowly on one elbow and looked at the oxygen indicator. He saw that the needle had dropped past the empty mark. He knew it wouldn’t be long now. And he knew what he had to do. He took a last long look at the two giant stars, and then closed his eyes.
Tom no longer tried to control his breathing, but took deep satisfying lungfuls of oxygen and in a few moments slipped into a sound sleep.
The jet boat roared on, carrying its sleeping occupant in an endless spiral around the nameless asteroid.
Not too many miles away, alone on the radar bridge of the giant rocket cruiser, Roger Manning, sweat popping out on his forehead, was trying the radar scanner on the three-hundred-and-tenth point on the compass. He connected the wires, glanced at the scanner, and shook his head disgustedly. The scanner screen was still dark. Having adjusted the delicate mechanism to eliminate the white flashes of static, he couldn’t find them again. He sat back in his chair for a moment, mopping his brow and watching the white hairline in its continuous swing around the face of the scope. As the line swept to the top of the screen, he saw the blip outline of a jet boat and recognized it as one belonging to the Polaris. Then, slowly, the line swept down and Roger suddenly saw the blip outline of a second craft. With the experienced eye of a radar veteran, Roger was able not only to distinguish the jet boats from the asteroids, but from each other. He gripped the edge of the instrument and shouted at the top of his voice. The second boat was a different model!
He reached for the audioceiver and switched it on.
“Attention! Attention! Captain Strong! Astro! Come in! This is Manning aboard the Polaris! Come in!”
Strong and Astro replied almost together.
“Strong here!”
“Astro here!”
“I’ve spotted a jet boat!” Roger shouted. “You think it might be—”
“Where?” bawled Astro before Roger could finish. “Where is it, you rockethead?”
“As close as I can figure it, he’s circling an asteroid, a big one, at the intersection of sections twenty-one and twenty-two!”
“Twenty-one and twenty-two! Got it!” yelled Astro.
“I’ll meet you there, Astro!” said Strong.
Astro and Strong turned their small ships in the direction of the intersecting space sections. Astro was the first to spot the asteroid, but for a moment he couldn’t see the jet boat on the opposite side of the small celestial body. Meanwhile, Strong, coming from the other direction, saw the boat and relayed the position to Astro. In a few
moments the two space craft had regulated their speeds to that of Tom’s ship and were hastily donning space suits. A quick look inside had shown them Tom’s sleeping body. As Astro started to open the crystal hatch of his ship to cross over to the other, Strong yelled over the audioceiver.
“Astro, wait!”
Astro looked across at the captain’s ship questioningly.
“Tom isn’t in a space suit. If we open the hatch it would kill him. We’ve got to tow him back to the Polaris and get his boat inside the air lock before we can open the hatch!”
Without a word, Astro nodded, ducked inside his ship, and climbed out again with a length of rope. Working quickly, he tied one end securely to the bow of Tom’s jet boat and made the other end fast to the stern of his. Then returning to his cockpit, he sent the jet boat hurtling back toward the Polaris.
But he was still faced with the problem of getting Tom’s jet boat inside the air lock. It was still under acceleration and there was no way to get inside to stop its jet motors. Astro called to Strong and explained the situation to him.
“Looks like the only thing we can do, sir, is keep going until it runs out of fuel.”
“That might take too long, Astro,” replied Strong. “No telling how much oxygen Tom has left.”
“There’s nothing else we can do, sir,” replied Astro. “We can’t brake her to land inside the Polaris and we can’t open the hatch to turn off the motor. We’ll have to take a chance on Tom lasting until it runs out of fuel!”
Inside the roaring craft, Tom suddenly opened his eyes. He began to cough. There was a roaring in his ears. The stars overhead swam dizzily. And then, as though through a billowing mist, he saw the jet boat ahead of him and the rope tied to his ship. He realized he had been rescued. He tried to signal them. He had to let them know he needed oxygen. He tried to reach the communicator near the control panel but could not lift his arm. He fell back to the deck gasping for air; his lungs screaming for oxygen. Something, thought Tom through the haze that fogged his brain, something to signal them. Then, with the last of his strength, he raised up on one elbow and reached for the acceleration lever. His fingers trembled a few inches away from their goal. His face began to turn violent red. He strained a little more. The lever was an inch away. Finally, with the very last ounce of his strength, he touched the lever and pulled it back by the weight of his falling body.
The Tom Corbett Space Cadet Megapack: 10 Classic Young Adult Sci-Fi Novels Page 47