On and on, the sleek ship plummeted through the black depths of space beyond Jupiter, heading for the planet Saturn and her magnificent rings of different colors, and to her largest satellite with its deadly methane ammonia gas atmosphere, the crystal-bearing moon, Titan.
* * * *
“They are approaching the spaceport, sir,” called the Titan control-tower operator, and Strong jumped to the radarscope to stare at the two blips on the screen. Only a mile separated them, with Quent Miles’ Space Knight ahead.
“Five minutes to touchdown,” reported the operator.
“Come on, Kit,” muttered Strong through clenched teeth. “Pour it on, boy. Give her the gun!”
The two blips drew closer to the heart of the scope. First one and then the other shooting ahead for brief seconds as they began deceleration.
“You can see them outside, now, sir,” said the operator, and Strong jumped to the door, stepping out on the observation platform that looked out over the spaceport. He searched the skies above him, and then, faintly, he could see the exhaust trails of the two ships as they streaked over the field, beginning their deceleration orbits around the satellite.
Behind him, Strong heard the voice of the tower operator ordering Ramp Four and Ramp Five cleared for the two ships, and the mobs of people on the spaceport surged back. Strong noted the irony of the situation. The people of Titan were not out to greet a hero of space, but were waiting for the next evacuation rocket ship.
The ramps were cleared and within minutes the two ships reappeared over the horizon, nosing upward over the spaceport in an arc, their braking rockets blasting loudly as they prepared to land.
Then, feeling that his heart would stop, Captain Strong saw Quent Miles’ black ship touch the surface of the spaceport first. Kit Barnard had lost the race. By seconds to be sure, but he had lost the race.
A weak cheer arose from the crowds and then quickly died out. To them the race was futile and the prize empty. How could the winning company ship crystal, when soon, none would be mined?
Strong raced across the field and boarded the Good Company to find Kit, Tom, Astro, and Sid sitting glumly on the control deck. There was a quick smile of greeting on the two cadets’ faces when they saw their unit commander, but their smiles died away. Abruptly Kit Barnard was on his feet looking past Strong to someone entering the hatch behind him.
“Congratulations, Quent!” said Kit, extending his hand. “That was a great race.”
“Thanks,” replied Miles. “But I never figured it would end any other way. You put up a great fight, Barnard. Yes, sir! A great fight!” He turned to Captain Strong and chortled. “Good race, eh, Strong?”
The Solar Guard officer shook hands with the winner and then asked, “Where is Cadet Manning?”
“Say, I want to make a complaint about that!” exclaimed Miles. He looked at Tom and Astro. “It was bad enough to have to be bothered with these kids, but when they behave the way that kid Manning behaved, I’ve got a right to be sore!”
“When did Manning leave the ship?” asked Strong.
“As soon as we made touchdown on Ganymede. He left the ship after sleeping all the way out, made a couple of nasty cracks, and the last I saw of him, he was heading over toward the deep-space section of the spaceport.”
“You’re sure of that?” asked Strong.
Quent Miles sneered. “I just said that’s what happened, didn’t I?”
“Yes, that’s what you said,” Strong replied. “And I’ll have to take your word for it until Manning can answer for himself.”
“How did you manage to make it from Earth to Ganymede without refueling, Quent?” asked Kit slowly. “And what have you got in your ship to get that kind of speed?”
Miles’ lips curled in a twisted grin. “That’s my secret, spaceman,” he said, turning away. “Well, I’ve got to report to my boss. Great race, Kit. Too bad there couldn’t be more than one winner.” He laughed and swaggered out of the ship.
“I’d like to brain that guy,” growled Tom.
“All right, Corbett, Astro, pack your gear and report to the control tower for reassignment,” snapped Strong. He turned and with a nod of sympathy to Kit left the control deck.
“Let’s go, Astro,” sighed Tom. “We’ll see you later, Kit. You too, Sid. And—” They looked at each other, but there was nothing more that could be said. The race was finished.
When Tom and Astro had finished packing their gear and left the ship, Sid turned to Kit. “I’m going to take a look at the Space Knight!” he announced.
“Better not, Sid.” Barnard shook his head. “Miles is a rough customer. He might not like visitors around his ‘secret’ on the power deck.”
Sid’s face was set. “I’m going,” he repeated and ducked through the hatch.
His face showing his disappointment at having lost the race, Kit paced the deck for a moment and then he strode purposefully toward the hatch, calling:
“Hey! Wait, Sid. I’m coming with you.”
In the control tower at the far end of the spaceport, Tom and Astro entered the station commander’s office in time to overhear the last of Commander Walters’ orders to Captain Strong.
“…might as well give the boys a rest before we begin our investigations, Steve.” He looked up as the door opened. “Oh, here they are now.”
“Cadets Corbett and Astro reporting, sir.” Tom and Astro saluted smartly.
“Stand easy, boys,” said Walters, rising to face them. “I don’t know how much you’ve heard of this emergency on Titan, but you can be briefed on details later. For the moment, all you have to know is that your assignment here is concerned with a detailed checking-out of the whole force-screen machinery. Take a twenty-four-hour rest and then report back here ready for the hardest work you’ll ever do in your lives.”
“Yes, sir,” said Tom.
“Where is Manning? Didn’t he think it necessary to report to me?” Walters looked at Strong. “Well, Steve? It’s your unit?”
“It seems he got off the Space Knight at Ganymede, sir,” replied Strong reluctantly. “Captain Miles said the last he saw of Manning he was walking toward the deep-space section of the spaceport.”
Walters’ eyes suddenly became very bright and hard. “He got off, did he? Well,” he snapped, “this is just about the end of the line for Cadet Roger Manning!”
“I’m sure Roger has a good explanation, sir—” began Tom.
Walters glared at the cadet. “None of that, Corbett. Manning is a bad rocket and the sooner I get rid of him the better off the Academy and the Polaris unit will be. Now take your twenty-four-hours’ leave and report back here ready to work.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Tom. He and Astro saluted and turned to leave the office but were stopped by the sudden appearance of Sid and Kit. Sid’s face was aglow. Kit was scowling.
“You know what we found on the Space Knight?” exclaimed Sid, unable to hold back.
“What?” asked Tom.
“Almost a full tank of reactant!” replied the young engineer. “And the after burners showed about as much wear as if the ship had jumped from Earth to Venus.”
“What’s that, young man?” snapped Walters, stepping forward quickly. “What are you talking about?”
Kit Barnard faced the commander and began to explain.
“We were both curious about Quent Miles’ ship, sir,” he said. “We wondered what kind of equipment he had to get that kind of speed, so we went aboard and looked her over. She looks as if she just made a routine flight. Hardly any of her baffling has been eaten away and her motors are cooling fast, and I’d swear by the stars there isn’t anything on that ship to give her the kind of speed she made out here.”
“Hm-m! There’s something funny about this,” mused Walters.
Strong stepped forward quickly. “Would you like me to investigate, sir?” he asked eagerly.
“Of course not,” snapped Walters. “What’s the matter with you? We’ve got a w
hole planet full of people about to lose their homes and you want to take time off to investigate pure speculation!”
“I’m sorry, sir.” Strong’s face flushed at the rebuke.
“Carry on! Work with Joe Howard.”
“Yes, sir.”
Strong saluted and started for the door. He passed Tom, Astro, Sid, and Kit without so much as a glance. His jaw was set like a rock.
Tom Corbett shuffled uncomfortably, embarrassed at the rebuke Strong had just suffered from Walters. It was not like the commander to flare up so quickly. The situation on Titan must be extremely serious. He and Astro ducked out of the room quickly.
“Come on, Astro,” muttered the young cadet. “Let’s get a bite to eat. I’m starved.”
“I was,” said the giant Venusian. “But I lost my appetite.”
“Boy, do I wish I had Roger here now!”
“Yeah, me too!”
CHAPTER 12
Olympia, the largest colony on Titan, was gripped by a wave of fear. The broad streets were empty; the shops and stores were deserted; and the population waited in line at the spaceport, with their most valuable belongings, for their turn to leave the threatened settlement. Slowly the satellite of Saturn was dying, and through the methane ammonia atmosphere, the glittering rings of the mother planet shone down on her death struggle.
Tom Corbett and Astro walked through the streets silently, overcome by the desolation around them. Many parts of the city were completely abandoned, and the few remaining citizens wore cumbersome oxygen masks as the deadly atmosphere of gas seeped through the force field to reach the ground surface of the satellite.
As the two cadets continued their dismal tour, they could only find one small restaurant open, a self-service food center that required no help. They were the only customers. During the meal they hardly talked, as they watched the slow procession of people outside, heading for the spaceport.
When the two cadets left the restaurant, a jet car suddenly blasted to a stop beside them and a master sergeant, dressed in the scarlet red of the enlisted Solar Guard, jumped out to face them.
“All persons are required to wear oxygen masks, Cadets,” the sergeant announced, handing over two masks. “And I would suggest that you leave this section of the city as quickly as possible. The screens are leaking badly again. We may have to close off this section too.”
Tom and Astro took the masks but did not put them on.
“Thanks, Sergeant,” said Tom. “But we’ll probably be around here for some time. We’re on special duty with Commander Walters and Captain Strong.”
At the mention of Strong’s name, the sergeant started, looked at the boys closely, and then smiled. “Say, aren’t you Corbett and Astro?”
“That’s right,” acknowledged Tom.
“Well, don’t you remember me?” asked the sergeant.
Tom looked at him closely and then smiled in sudden recognition. “Morgan! Phil Morgan!” he cried.
“Of course,” chimed in Astro.
“Sure,” said the sergeant. “We went through our first test together at the Academy and I washed out.”
“And you became an enlisted man!” exclaimed Tom. “Man, you’re a real space buster!”
“I figured if I couldn’t get into space one way, I’d do it another,” said Morgan proudly. “A lot of times I wished I was still a cadet with you, but now I don’t think I’d change it for anything in the world.”
“I can believe that,” said Tom, smiling. “And a master sergeant at that! McKenny told us once it took a man nearly fifteen years to get top rating. It must really be a labor of love for you to have made it this quickly.” He stuck out his hand. “Congratulations, Morgan.”
They shook hands. “Well, I’ve got to get rolling,” said Morgan. “I sure hope you fellows find out what’s cooking here. I’ve got a lot of friends here and they stand to lose everything they own if Titan is abandoned.”
“With Captain Strong on the job, you can bet we’ll find out the trouble,” declared Astro.
Morgan smiled. “See you around,” he said, and jumped back into the jet car. A second later it was roaring down the street to the western part of the city.
“Boy, sure makes you feel good to know that a guy loves space so much that he would fight his way to the top of the enlisted guard as Morgan did!” said Tom.
Suddenly Astro jerked Tom by the sleeve and pulled him back into the restaurant to crouch behind the door.
“Hey, what’s the matter with you?” growled Tom.
“Sh-h-h!” hissed Astro and pointed across the street. “Look!”
Tom poked his head around the corner of the doorway and quickly jerked it back again. Quent Miles was hurrying down the street.
“Wonder what he’s doing around here?” whispered Astro, watching the black-clad spaceman pass directly opposite them and continue down the street, seemingly unaware that he was being watched.
“He must be heading for the evacuated section,” said Tom.
“How do you figure that?” asked Astro, as they peered cautiously around the edge of the doorway.
“He’s wearing his oxygen mask.”
“Come on!” said Astro. “Let’s find out what that heel is up to.”
Hugging the buildings, the two cadets walked down the street, following Miles. There was a puzzled frown on Astro’s face as he stared at the spaceman, a hundred feet away. “I swear, Tom,” he complained, “I’m about to bust a rocket. Every time I see that guy, I think I know him, but when I try to pin it down, it slips away from me.”
“Watch it!” cried Tom. “He’s stopping.”
The boys ducked behind a deserted jet car as Quent Miles suddenly spun around to stare suspiciously back down the street.
“I don’t know if he saw us or not,” whispered Tom.
“With that oxygen mask,” replied the big cadet, “maybe he can’t see very well.”
“He’s going on,” replied Tom. “Come on. We’ve got to find out what he’s up to. He wouldn’t be concerned about someone following him if he weren’t trying to hide something.”
They slipped around the jet car and stepped back on the sidewalk. Ahead of them, Quent Miles was walking quickly, reading all the street signs. Suddenly he turned down a side street, and the two cadets raced after him.
They were in the outskirts of the city now. Great areas were covered with rolling grass fields where the citizens of Titan spent their leisure hours playing ball and picnicking, and it was easy for the cadets to follow the black-suited spaceman. They had to put on their oxygen masks as the deadly fumes of the methane ammonia atmosphere began to swirl around them. They were near the outer limits of the atmosphere screen’s effectiveness.
“I think he’s going into that building up ahead, Astro,” said Tom, his voice distorted to a low metallic hiss by the miniature amplifier in the face of the mask.
Astro nodded and they ducked into a gully as Quent Miles turned once again and glanced down the street.
“Wonder what’s in that building?” mused Tom.
“One way to find out,” said Astro. “Come on. He’s moving again.”
The gas began to thicken now, and the two cadets found it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead as they moved cautiously through the swirling death around them. After what seemed like an hour, but was actually hardly more than a few minutes, they found the building Miles had entered.
“I’d give two weeks’ leave for a ray gun now,” said Tom.
“Want me to try the door?” asked Astro.
“Go ahead. We can’t learn anything standing out here.”
Astro put his hand on the circular latch and twisted it slowly. The door slid back on rollers, exposing a dark interior. The two boys slipped inside.
“Better close the door, Astro,” said Tom. “The ammonia doesn’t seem to be so thick in here.”
Astro twisted the latch on the inner side and the heavy door rolled back into place. They turned slowly and s
aw a room that was dark except for a single light gleaming weakly through the haze of the gas. When their eyes became adjusted to the semidarkness, they moved, searching for another door in the huge room.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” asked Astro.
“I can’t be positive,” said Tom. “The stuff outside was too thick—” He stopped, touched Astro on the arm, and pointed to his left. There was the sound of a door sliding back and light filtered into the murky room. Quent Miles stood framed in the doorway, the unmistakable outline of a paralo-ray gun in his right hand.
“Drop to the floor,” hissed Tom.
The two cadets dropped lightly to the floor and lay face down, while Quent Miles walked toward them fanning the gun around menacingly. Then, as he was about to step on Astro’s hand, he turned and walked quickly back to the door. “You must be nuts, Charley,” the two cadets heard him say. “There’s nobody here.”
The door rolled closed and the light was cut off. Tom and Astro rose and quietly made their way toward the door. They stopped, leaned against the door, and tried to hear what was going on inside, but were unable to distinguish more than a vague mumble of voices, because of their masks and the thickness of the door. Suddenly, however, they were conscious of footsteps approaching from the other side.
There was no time to hide. Each boy flattened himself against the wall on opposite sides of the door and held his breath as the door opened slowly.
* * * *
“There can be no doubt about it, Steve,” said Commander Walters to the young captain. “What we need are more powerful pumping stations for oxygen and additional generators for supplying power to the force field.”
“How do you figure that, sir?” asked Strong.
“It’s simply this,” replied Walters. “The population here has nearly tripled in the past two years. The force-field screens were set up originally to accommodate only a minimum number of miners and their families. With the heavy demand for crystal, and therefore, more civilians to dig it out, the force field has been overloaded.”
“But I still don’t see how, sir,” Strong protested.
The Tom Corbett Space Cadet Megapack: 10 Classic Young Adult Sci-Fi Novels Page 94