The Tom Corbett Space Cadet Megapack: 10 Classic Young Adult Sci-Fi Novels

by Norton, Andre

  “The lieutenant governor is busy,” said Roger sarcastically. “Very busy, in fact.”

  “Doing what?” asked Winters.

  “Trying to keep the rest of his space rats in line!” snapped Roger.

  “Listen, you!” growled Winters, taking a threatening step toward Roger. “I don’t have to take that from you. One word outta me, and Vidac’ll bury you in the brig.”

  Tom quickly stepped between Roger and the angry civilian spaceman to prevent the impending fight. He stared at Winters and smiled. “What’s the matter, Winters? Need Vidac’s help in everything you do?”

  “Aw, go blast your jets, you space-brained jerks!” snorted Winters. He turned back toward the hatch, but there was noticeably less swagger to his walk.

  The three cadets smiled at each other and followed him into the main body of the ship.

  While the Polaris was the command ship of the fleet, the nerve center of the entire operation, it was still hardly more than a prison ship for the cadets. In direct contrast, the space liner was bright, gay, and full of life. Everything imaginable for the convenience of the colonists had been installed aboard the massive ship. As the three cadets walked through the ship on their way to the control deck, they passed the auditorium where stereos were shown in the evenings and indoctrination lectures were given during the day. They passed a number of compartments that served as a school for the children of the colonists. There were workshops where the colonists could make objects for their future homes in their spare time. And in the heart of the ship was one of the most complete and extensive libraries in the Solar Alliance. Audioslides, soundscribers, story spools, question-and-answer tapes, everything designed to answer just about any question the human mind could ask.

  The main living quarters of the ship were arranged so that each family had a small apartment, complete in every detail, to preserve as much of the family life as possible. There were no governors or supervisors to control the colonists. It had been decided to allow the colonists to choose their own leaders aboard the ships. But they were living together so peacefully, they hadn’t found it necessary to select any one individual to be a leader. The ship was a miniature city.

  As the Space Cadets made their rounds of the power deck, control deck, and radar deck, they were amazed by the excellence of the equipment and the care given it. And because they saw nothing to substantiate their suspicions of Vidac, and his hand-picked crew, on Number Twelve, they found themselves confused about their feelings toward him.

  On the power deck, Astro had questioned a rocketman closely about the arrangement of the baffling around one of the firing chambers. The power-deck officer, Shilo Speed, heard Astro’s questions, agreed with the cadet, and made the rocketman rearrange the baffling. Then, on the control deck, the pilot had been careless in maintaining his position with the other ships in the fleet. Tom mentioned it to Winters, and Winters immediately ordered the man off the bridge, and replaced him. Such action for the safety of the colonists had made the cadets wonder about Vidac’s ability.

  After inspecting the ship from radar mast to jet exhausts, the three cadets started back for the jet-boat deck. As they retraced their steps, they passed through the library and encountered Hyram Logan and his son Billy.

  “Hello, Mr. Logan,” greeted Tom with a big smile.

  “Well, hello, Corbett,” Logan replied. “Didn’t know you were aboard Number Twelve.”

  “We’re not assigned to her, sir,” replied Tom. “We’re just making an inspection for the lieutenant governor. How do you like the way she’s being run?”

  Logan’s endorsement was immediate. “Just fine, Corbett. This ship is almost a colony in itself.”

  “Yeah, including school,” chimed in Billy sourly. The three cadets laughed. Then the boy grinned and stuck a finger gently into Roger’s stomach. “She ain’t here, Cadet Manning. My sister is teaching kindergarten right now.”

  “Be quiet, Billy!” barked his father.

  Roger’s face turned a slow red while Tom and Astro grinned. After a few more words, the three cadets again headed for the jet-boat deck.

  “That Billy will make a fine radarman someday,” drawled Astro.

  “How do you figure that, Astro?” asked Tom.

  “Did you see the way he spotted Roger’s roving eye looking for his pretty sister? Why, in ten years, he’ll be picking up asteroids the same way.”

  Back in their jet boat a few minutes later, blasting through space on the rest of their tour, Tom turned to his unit mates, a troubled look on his face.

  “Did you notice anything aboard Number Twelve that looked—well, suspicious?” he asked.

  Astro and Roger shook their heads.

  “Me neither,” said Tom. “Maybe we’ve got Vidac pegged wrong. Maybe—”

  “I thought of that, Tom,” interrupted Roger. “But there’s one thing that doesn’t seem right.”

  “What’s that?” asked Tom.

  “Your report to Captain Strong,” Roger replied. “You sent it to him ten days ago. You should have had an answer by now.”

  “He’s out on Pluto,” said Astro. “Space Academy might not have forwarded it to him.”

  “You know the rules,” said Roger. “Any official communication to a Solar Guard officer is sent through regardless of where he is in the universe, if communications are at all possible.”

  “You’re right, Roger,” said Tom finally. “I should have had some sort of answer by now.”

  “You think,” mused Astro slowly, “maybe Vidac didn’t send the report?”

  Roger hesitated and then replied, “There’s one way to find out.”

  “How?” asked Tom.

  “Take a look in the communications logbook on the control deck.”

  “We can’t, Roger.” Tom shook his head. “Vidac’s got his own men planted in every one of our departments.”

  “Yeah,” growled Astro. “I been watching the way that guy Smith takes care of the power deck and, believe me, it makes me burn. Why, he hasn’t washed down the atomic motor casing once since we blasted off!”

  “Wait a minute!” cried Roger suddenly. “Jeff Marshall!”

  “Jeff?” asked Tom. “What about him?”

  “He can get to the control deck and take a look at the logbook,” answered Roger.

  “Say, that’s right,” said Tom.

  “Come on,” said Roger. “Let’s finish off this tour and get back to the Polaris. If Vidac’s on the level, he’ll have sent your report to Captain Strong. If not, we know where we stand.”

  Astro shook his head slowly. “Honestly, fellas, I don’t know whether to hope he did or didn’t.”

  * * * *

  Their tour completed, the three cadets returned to the Polaris. They quickly audioscribed their report to Vidac and then hurried to the observatory to find Jeff Marshall. Luckily the sergeant was alone and they were able to give him all the reasons for their suspicions of Vidac and tell him what they wanted him to do.

  “But what can I say I’m looking for in the logbook?” Jeff Marshall protested.

  “We passed through a cloud of meteor dust the other day, didn’t we?” asked Tom.

  “Yeah,” replied Jeff, “but what’s that got to do—”

  “You had to report it to central weather control,” said Tom. “Tell the pilot you lost your own copy of the report and want to get the official path out of the log. Tell him the professor wants it.”

  Jeff thought a moment, then nodded his head. “O.K. I’ll see you later.”

  The three cadets returned to their quarters to wait while Jeff went up to the control deck. He walked in with a smile, chatted with the pilot a few moments, and then made his request.

  “I want to take a look at the log a minute, Johnny,” he said casually. “The professor lost his notes on the meteor dust we passed through the other day.”

  “Sure,” said the pilot. He tossed the dog-eared book to the sergeant. Jeff flipped through the pages and found th
e day Tom’s report was to have been sent. He checked carefully, continuing through the entries for the succeeding days, ending with the last entry made just an hour before. There was no mention of Tom’s report. Jeff turned to give the logbook to the pilot when Vidac and Professor Sykes stepped through the hatch. Seeing Jeff with the log in his hands, Vidac frowned.

  “What are you doing here, Marshall?” he snapped.

  Jeff was trapped. He came to attention and remained silent. Vidac walked across the control deck and stood in front of him.

  “Well, Marshall?” he barked. “Answer me!”

  “I needed some information about the meteor dust we passed through recently, sir,” said Jeff.

  Vidac turned to the professor. “Did you send him up here?”

  Sykes merely shook his head.

  “I lost the professor’s notes and needed the information in the logbook, sir,” said Jeff.

  “What are you talking about?” growled Sykes. “The notes are still in my work journal. You put them there yourself!”

  “What have you got to say to that?” demanded Vidac.

  “I repeat, sir,” said Jeff, “that was my reason for looking in the log.”

  Vidac paused, and when he spoke, his voice was cold. “The control-deck logbook contains classified information, Marshall. You know that. I won’t say you’re lying about reasons for looking at it, but that does not excuse the fact that you did look at it without my permission. I’m confining you to the brig for ten days.”

  Jeff didn’t bat an eyelash. The fact that he had found no entry of Tom’s report to Captain Strong in the log, and the unreasonable annoyance Vidac expressed over his having looked into the logbook, convinced him that the cadets were not wrong in their suspicions concerning the lieutenant governor.

  Vidac dismissed him and the enlisted sergeant was escorted to the Polaris’ brig by two hastily summoned crewmen.

  When the cadets learned of Jeff’s punishment they immediately went to Vidac’s quarters and requested permission to speak with him. After making them wait for nearly three hours, Vidac finally received them.

  “Well, what now?” demanded Vidac.

  “We would like to ask a question, sir,” said Tom.

  “Speak up!” snorted Vidac impatiently.

  “It’s about Sergeant Marshall, sir,” said Tom.

  “What about him?”

  “We would like to know, sir, under what article of the space code was Sergeant Marshall sentenced to the brig?”

  Vidac’s eyes sharpened. He spoke quickly and crisply. “I suspected that there was some connection between Marshall looking in the log and your coming here to see me. I don’t know what you have in mind, Corbett, but I’m going to lay it on the line. This is the last time you will question my authority. From this moment on, and until you are released from my jurisdiction, I am the space code. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Very clear, sir,” said Tom tightly. “Then will the lieutenant governor please put in writing any further orders he might have for us?”

  “I will not!” snarled Vidac. “But I tell you what I will do. I’ll confine you to your quarters for ten days for that impertinent request! And if I so much as see your noses outside your quarters, I’ll really get tough! Dismissed!”

  CHAPTER 8

  “This is highly irregular, Logan,” said Vidac to the Venusian farmer, “but I guess you can see the cadets. Perhaps a little advice from you will help them mend their ways.”

  Logan nodded. “I have a boy of my own, Governor,” he said, “and I know how rambunctious they can get.”

  Vidac smiled thinly. “You’ll find them in their quarters. The first ladder to your right and down two decks.”

  “Thank you, sir,” replied Logan. He left Vidac’s quarters and two minutes later stepped through the hatch leading into the cadet’s room. After seven days of confinement, the three boys greeted Logan with a yell of pure joy.

  “We have guests!” bellowed Astro, grabbing Roger who was asleep in his bunk and then banging on the shower door where Tom was taking a shower.

  Roger tumbled out of the bunk and Tom came rushing out of the shower wrapped in a towel. They all began talking at once.

  “How’d you know we were confined to quarters, sir?” asked Tom.

  “It’s a wonder Vidac allowed you to come see us!” yelled Roger.

  “Never mind the questions, sir,” said Astro. “It’s just plain good to see a different face besides these two space jokers. One more game of space chess with Manning and I think I’d—”

  Logan laughed at the cadets’ enthusiasm, holding up both hands to stem their eager babbling questions. After Tom had dressed hastily and Roger had cleared off a bunk, they began to talk calmly.

  “I didn’t know you boys were in trouble,” said Logan, “until I came over to the Polaris to see you. Then Vidac told me all about it.”

  “Was there any special reason why you wanted to see us, sir?” asked Tom.

  “Well, as a matter of fact, there was a little reason. Billy, my son, has been pestering me to get some of your Academy books and audioscripts so he can study to become a Space Cadet when he gets old enough.”

  The three cadets grinned at each other and soon the Venusian farmer was piled high with manuals, audioscripts, tapes, and general information about the Academy.

  “Thank you, boys,” said Logan. “That’s real nice of you, but—”

  “But what, sir?” asked Tom.

  “That was the little reason for coming to see you. I have a big reason too.”

  “What’s that, sir?” asked Roger.

  “I don’t know how to say it exactly,” began Logan, his voice low and hesitant, “but do you remember when you three came over to inspect Number Twelve?”

  The boys all nodded and Logan continued in a hushed voice.

  “Well, I told you then that everything was as nice as it could be. At that time it was. But now—”

  “What’s happened, sir?” asked Tom.

  “What hasn’t happened you mean!” snorted Logan. “The very next day we had a visit from Vidac himself. He made a routine check of all the departments, stopped and talked to some of the colonists, and he seemed, in general, like a nice fellow. Then all of a sudden it started.”

  “What?” asked Astro.

  “Our skipper Winters and another fellow, Ed Bush, began treating us like—well, like prisoners!”

  “Prisoners!” cried Tom.

  “Yes!” said Logan. “They began to tell us when we couldn’t go to the workshop and to the stereos, and made us eat our meals together in the main assembly room, with the wives taking turns doing all the cooking. And the schooling has been cut altogether.”

  “Why, why—” Tom was floored by the information. “But how can that be?”

  “I don’t know,” said Logan, “but that’s the way it is. I came over to tell you boys about it, since you were the only ones I knew. You struck me as being honest and I felt I could trust you.”

  “What else have Winters and Bush done?” asked Astro tensely.

  “I guess the worst of all is the fact that we’re having to pay for everything we eat,” said Logan.

  “Pay!” exclaimed Roger. “But, but—how can you? You don’t have any credits. The Solar Council decided to let the colony work on a barter basis—share and share alike—until it could take its place in the over-all economy of the Solar Alliance.”

  “I know, I know,” said Logan resignedly. “We’re having to pay for the things we get by signing over a percentage of our future profit over the next seven years.”

  The three cadets looked at each other in disbelief. The idea of two men openly violating the laws of the expedition, treating the Solar Alliance citizens as if they were prisoners, was overwhelming.

  Tom got up and began to pace the deck. Finally he turned and faced Logan. “Have you said anything to Vidac about this?” he asked.

  “Ummmpf!” snorted Logan. “Every one of us sig
ned a petition and had it sent to the governor himself. We didn’t even get a reply. Vidac must have heard about it and told Winters and Bush to take it easy, because the next day we were allowed to eat again without having to sign over part of our profit to them. But everything else is the same.”

  “But how could they force you to pay?” asked Roger. “Couldn’t you refuse?”

  “Sonny,” declared Logan emphatically, “I’m brave as the next man. But you don’t argue against a paralo-ray gun, especially when there are women and children to worry about.”

  Tom whirled around and faced Roger and Astro. “I guess we don’t need any more proof now,” he said coldly. “Jeff Marshall is thrown into the brig for looking into a logbook; we’re relieved of our jobs here on the Polaris; my monthly report to Captain Strong isn’t sent to Space Academy, and now this. One of two things is happening. Either Governor Hardy is in on this with Vidac, or Vidac is taking over without Hardy knowing anything about it.”

  “All right—all right,” growled Astro, “but what are we going to do about it?”

  “We’ve got to get word to Space Academy or Captain Strong someway, somehow. We’ve got to let them know what’s going on.”

  “There’s only one way to do that,” said Roger. “But with the communications controlled by Vidac’s men, we don’t have the chance of a snowball on the sunny side of Mercury!”

  “Then,” announced Tom firmly, “we’ll have to build our own communications unit.”

  “But how?” asked Logan.

  “Roger here can make a communicator out of spit and bailing wire,” said Astro. “All he needs is the essential parts.”

  “Look,” said Tom tensely, “Jeff Marshall will be getting out of the brig when we do. He’ll be working with Professor Sykes, along with us. Why can’t we build one on the sly in the observatory?”

  Roger thought a moment. “It’s the only thing we can do. I just hope that Mr. Logan’s coming here hasn’t aroused suspicion.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” said Logan. “I told Vidac I wanted this information about Space Academy for Billy. That seemed to satisfy him.”