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

by Norton, Andre

  “That’s enough, pal,” he said. “I’m coming in.”

  “O.K.,” replied Roger from the control deck. “And don’t fall all over your big feet.”

  In five minutes the Venusian cadet was inside the air lock again, and as the pressure was boosted to equalize with the interior of the ship, he removed his space suit and helmet. He opened the inner hatch and stepped into the control deck to see Roger staring at the teleceiver in openmouthed astonishment. A harsh voice was coming over the loud-speaker.

  “…Order you to cut all power and stand by for a boarding party, or I’ll open fire immediately!”

  With an exclamation of startled surprise, Astro rushed to the teleceiver screen and saw a man in the uniform of the Solar Guard, his face grim and purposeful. Just as Astro was about to speak, the officer spoke again.

  “Did you hear me? This is Captain Newton aboard the cruiser Regulus! I order you to cut all power and stand by or I’ll open fire! Acknowledge!”

  “Roger,” gasped Astro, “what’s this all about?”

  “I—I don’t know,” stammered the blond-haired cadet. He grabbed the teleceiver microphone and called into it rapidly.

  “Rocket scout 4J9 to Regulus. This is Space Cadet Roger Manning. There must be some mistake, sir. Cadet Astro and I are out here on special assignment for the Space Projectile project.”

  “I know who you are!” shouted Newton. “If you don’t stand by, I’ll open fire! This is your last warning!”

  Astro grabbed the mike from Roger’s hand.

  “All right!” he bellowed. “We don’t know what it’s all about, but for the love of Saturn’s rings, don’t start shooting.”

  Captain Newton nodded grimly. “Very well,” he said. “Bring your ship to a dead stop in space and open your starboard air lock. I will send a jet boat over to you.”

  “Aye, aye, sir,” said Astro.

  When the Solar Guard captain signed off and his image faded from the teleceiver screen, Astro and Roger numbly complied with Newton’s abrupt orders, bringing the ship to a dead stop in space and opening the starboard air lock. Then the two cadets sat in the main deck of the small scout and waited, their faces showing their concern. Neither felt like talking. They were so confused that they didn’t know what to say. Finally Roger got up and in a daze walked to the chart table to note the time of the tests in the log. Then he automatically logged the time of Newton’s order.

  Suddenly he threw the pencil down and turned to Astro.

  “Blast it!” he shouted. “What’s this all about?”

  Astro merely grunted, shrugged his shoulders, and slumped further down in his chair. The big cadet was worried. Anything that threatened his career at the Space Academy made him literally tremble with fear. In his whole life there was never anything that he wanted more than to be an officer in the Solar Guard. And the only way that could be accomplished was by being a Space Cadet. Now he was under arrest. He didn’t stop to reason why. All he knew was that it was a direct threat to his future as a power-deck officer in the Solar Guard.

  The two boys felt the metallic thump of something hitting the hull of their rocket scout. They realized immediately that it was the sound of the jet boat coupling on their ship and they turned to face the air-lock hatch.

  Captain Newton was the first to step through the air-lock hatch and he was followed by six Space Marines, holding their ray guns leveled.

  “I am Captain Newton of the Solar Guard, in command of the rocket cruiser Regulus,” he announced. “I arrest you in the name of the Solar Alliance.” The officer handed over the standard warrant that was used by the Solar Guard.

  Roger read it slowly. It was a simple warrant for their arrest, on the grounds of desertion, taking a Solar Guard vessel without permission, and being absent without leave from Space Academy. Stunned, the cadet handed it to Astro who had been reading it over his shoulder, his face white with shock.

  “And I warn you, Cadet Manning,” continued Newton, “that anything you say from now on may be used against you.”

  “I understand, sir,” said Roger, dazed.

  “Then do I have your word,” said Newton, “on your honor as Space Cadets, that you will not make any attempt to escape or in any way jeopardize my authority over you?”

  “Yes, sir,” nodded Roger.

  “On my honor, sir,” said Astro, gulping, “as a Space Cadet.”

  “All right,” said Newton. “Then I’ll let you take the scout back to the Academy yourselves. I’ll escort you in the Regulus.”

  He turned to the squad of Space Marines and nodded. They filed into the air lock and Newton followed slowly. He paused in the hatch and looked back at the two cadets, a momentary gleam of sympathy in his eyes.

  “You’d better be prepared for a rough time, boys,” he said. “Major Connel is going to haul you in front of a court-martial as soon as you land.”

  “But what’ve we done?” Astro suddenly exploded.

  “The charges are listed in the warrant, Cadet Astro!”

  “But that’s all wrong!” protested Astro. “We were ordered to—”

  “Hold it, Astro,” Roger interrupted. “Let’s stop and figure this out first. We can tell our side at the court-martial!”

  Captain Newton looked at the two boys piercingly for a second, then turned and entered the air lock, slamming the hatch closed behind him. Slowly and thoughtfully, Astro and Roger prepared to get their ship under way. They were still stunned by the sudden turn of events.

  They had no idea what had happened. But they knew Dave Barret was at the heart of their troubles. They vowed silently that he wouldn’t get away with it!

  * * * *

  This time it was not a cadet court that Roger and Astro faced. It was a five-man board of Solar Guard officers, consisting of four captains and one major, who conducted the court-martial in closed session. Only the defendants and the complaining witnesses were allowed to be present. The evidence the board heard was as damaging to the boys as it was bewildering. Major Connel testified to their being absent without leave and taking a Solar Guard space vessel without permission. Firehouse Tim Rush stated that they had deserted their stations. When Roger was called to the stand, he entered the only defense he could, stating that he and Astro had been operating under Dave Barret’s orders. The board immediately called Barret in to testify and his words blasted the cadets’ case to smithereens.

  “…I have no idea what they were doing out in that rocket scout,” he stated calmly. “I certainly didn’t send them up on any such ridiculous tests. If you will examine the exhaust tubes of that ship, you’ll see that they’re made of standard materials used in all Solar Guard ships.” He turned to the board, casually. “No, gentlemen,” he continued, “I don’t know what these boys are talking about. You can call Professor Hemmingwell in, if you like. I’m sure he’ll vouch for what I’ve said.”

  As Barret stepped down from the stand, Astro lunged toward him, blind with anger and shouting his fury. It took six Space Marines to force him back to his chair. Roger merely sat, staring blankly into space, a wry smile curling his lips. He clearly saw the trap into which he and his unit mate had fallen, and there was no way out.

  The board didn’t deliberate very long after the last testimony was taken. When they returned to the chamber, the presiding officer addressed Roger and Astro directly, asking formally whether they had anything to say before sentence was passed. Roger stepped forward.

  “I have something to say, sir,” he said in a quiet but firm voice.

  “Very well,” nodded the major.

  “Sir,” began Roger, with a glance at Astro, “this is not a plea for mercy but understanding. We are, it is true, nothing but boys in training to become officers of the Solar Guard. One of the most important parts of our training is how to take orders without question. Now at this trial, we have been accused of three specific instances of misconduct. We can offer no other defense than what we have already claimed. Major Connel and Warran
t Officer Rush have stated that we should have cleared Barret’s orders with them first, since Barret is only a civilian and has no right to give us orders. That may very well be true. But I submit this for your consideration, gentlemen—” Roger paused and looked up and down the line of stony-faced officers. “What would have been your judgment,” he resumed, “if Dave Barret had asked us to do these things and we had refused? Would you have been less hard on us? That’s all, sir.”

  Roger stepped back abruptly and the officers stirred uncomfortably. They recognized the merit in Roger’s statement, and had not the decision been made, there was more than one who might have reconsidered, remembering their own difficulties as Space Cadets. However, the presiding officer picked up a sheet of paper and addressed the boys coldly.

  “While I must compliment Cadet Manning for his admirable statement,” he said, “it does not change the decision of this board. Normally, these offenses would be punished by immediate dismissal from the Cadet Corps. However, in view of their past record at the Academy, it is the decision of this board to exercise some lenience. Cadet Roger Manning, Cadet Astro, you are sentenced to serve on the enlisted man’s work gangs here at Space Academy for a period of exactly six months. All pay and privileges to be denied during that time. Case is closed!”

  CHAPTER 13

  “Atom City rocket liner now loading on Ramp Two!”

  The metallic voice of the dispatcher echoed through the waiting room of the subspaceport on the outskirts of Marsport and the passengers began moving toward the field gate, where the stewards of the ship checked each ticket against the liner’s seating plan. Near them, a squad of four Space Marines scrutinized all passengers carefully as they boarded the waiting jet cars that would take them to the ship far out in the middle of the field.

  Tom Corbett sat at the refreshment stand in the waiting room, sipping a glass of milk thoughtfully and eying the squad of Space Marines. He wore a big-billed hat pulled low over his face and a tight-fitting black jacket, the standard uniform of a merchant spaceman.

  “Anything else?” asked the pretty waitress behind the counter.

  “Yeah,” growled Tom. “Gimme another glass of milk and another of these crummy sandwiches.”

  “Well, you don’t have to be rude about it!” snapped the girl. “Somebody should teach you space tramps some manners!”

  As she flounced off angrily the young cadet smiled. He knew his disguise must be good indeed to fool this young girl, who met hundreds of people at the spaceport every day and could easily recognize a person for what he truly was. Now his only hope was that the disguise would fool the squad of Marines at the gate.

  After having abandoned the jet truck, Tom had moved through the glittering city of Marsport carefully, keeping to the dark alleys and shadows. Gradually he had worked his way back to the area around Sloppy Sam’s where, for a few credits, he had been able to buy a merchant spaceman’s clothes with no questions asked. He buried his cadet uniform in the loose ground near a construction project.

  Then, staying in the area, he wandered in and out of the dingy bars and restaurants looking for the man he had seen at the spaceport, the driver of the truck that had crashed the fence.

  He spent three days in his search, not daring to ask questions, simply keeping his eyes open for the man. Finally he had been forced to abandon the search when he saw a stereo newscast reporting that the missing cadet, Tom Corbett, had been traced to Skid Row. He decided that it was time to leave Mars and went to the huge main spaceport, hoping to get aboard a ship bound for Earth. But the Space Marines were stationed at every gate, examining each departing passenger carefully, and Tom knew it would be impossible to get past them. Then he noticed a poster advertising special non-scheduled flights to Atom City, Earth, at reduced rates, that would blast off from a subspaceport on the outskirts of the city. With renewed hope, he had gone there immediately and bought a ticket. Space Marines were on guard here too, but only a small squad. The cadet resolved to make his break here. He had no other choice.

  “Here’s your milk!” said the waitress, slopping it down on the counter before the cadet. “And your sandwich!”

  Tom paid for the order and took his time about chewing the stale sandwich. He knew he had to get aboard the ship that was loading now, but the Space Marines were watching the passengers very closely. Suddenly Tom saw a spaceport attendant race up to the squad and hand a message to the sergeant in command of the squad. Leaving the counter, Tom walked quickly to a newsstand near the gate, where he could stand close to the Marines. The sergeant read the message quickly and turned to his squad. Tom strained his ears to listen.

  “We have to move out of here or we’ll never get out,” he said. “There’s a Martian sandstorm coming this way. It should hit in about fifteen minutes. This will be the last flight. Then nothing will get off the ground until it blows over. May last for days.”

  “But what about that cadet?” asked the man nearest to the sergeant. “What if he shows up?”

  “Just about all the passengers for this flight are aboard now,” growled the sergeant. “Besides, do you see him anywhere?”

  Tom turned his back to the troopers quickly and heard the Marine reply, “Naw.”

  “Then get your gear and pile on the truck outside,” ordered the sergeant, “or we’ll be living in this station for a couple of days.”

  The Marines quickly marched away from the gate, through the waiting room, and out the door.

  Tom dug into his pocket for the ticket to Atom City and stepped quickly to the gate, presenting his ticket to the steward. “Spaceman Wilson!” Tom growled.

  The steward checked his ticket casually and announced, “Seat fourteen, berth twelve!”

  Tom walked through the gate, trying to look casual.

  “Hey you!” There was a sudden cry of alarm behind Tom and for a moment he was tempted to run. But he turned slowly and looked back. The man at the newsstand was shouting at him.

  “Ya tryin’ to steal my paper?” he yelled.

  Tom looked down and saw that he was still holding the paper he had picked up to hide his face from the Marines. He smiled, reached into his pocket for a coin, and flipped it back to the man.

  “Sorry,” he called and walked on.

  He hurried through a tunnel to the open area of the field where the other passengers were waiting in jet cars. He slipped into the nearest one and settled down beside a fat woman. She looked at him archly, sniffed audibly, and turned to stare out the window. Tom merely grinned and settled deeper in the seat. In a moment the jet cab was speeding across the small field to the waiting passenger ship.

  Safely inside the ship, Tom sank into his assigned seat, buckled his acceleration belt, and listened to the voice of the skipper counting off the seconds until blast off.

  “Five, four, three, two, one, zero!”

  There was very little acceleration shock, since this was a vessel designed for the comfort of the passengers. In fact, Tom found it difficult to determine just exactly when it left the ground. The force of the drive pushed him deep in his seat, to be sure, but it was a gradual pressure and not at all like the sudden violent jerk that came when he gunned the Polaris.

  He smiled. There was considerably less power in this ship than in the Polaris!

  The thought of the giant rocket cruiser made him think about Roger and Astro. He wondered what they were doing and if they had stayed out of trouble.

  During the trip back to Atom City, Tom kept to himself, avoiding the other passengers on the ship as much as possible, taking his meals in his berth. The cadet had a lot of thinking to do. Though temporarily safe, he knew he couldn’t dodge the Solar Guard forever. He kept track of his pursuit by stereo newscasts which the ship picked up from both Mars and Earth, and he was pleased to learn that the Marines and Solar Guardsmen were still searching for him in Marsport.

  There was one bit of information that was general news to the others on the ship, but of particular interest to Tom. He
had sat up in his berth and listened.

  “…The report of a sabotage attempt on a highly secret project now in progress at Space Academy was denied today by project officials and Commander Walters. The commander said there was no basis for the report that the entire control panel of a new type ship had been destroyed.”

  Tom switched off his set and settled back in his bunk. He saw through the denial by Commander Walters. There was no need to upset the public and, more important, let the saboteur know how successful he had been.

  Though Tom knew who was responsible, this knowledge did not mean much while he was still a fugitive. He would have to have proof. He would have to have more than just his word and accusation to make his charges stick. But how to get it?

  “Attention,” boomed the voice of the captain over the ship’s loud-speaker. “Fasten your deceleration belts, please! We land at Atom City in thirty minutes. Fasten your deceleration belts, please!”

  Certain he wouldn’t be seen by the passengers and crew strapped in for the landing, Tom slipped out of his berth and down the companionway to the luggage compartment. Safely inside, he examined the contents of several expensive-looking bags, opening them by springing the locks with his knife. Finally he found a set of civilian clothes that would fit him. Leaving a hundred credits in the suitcase, more than the clothes were worth, he returned to his berth where he quickly washed, shaved, and dressed in the stolen clothes, steadying himself against the lurching of the ship as it made its landing approach.

  When the ship finally touched down at the Atom City spaceport, Tom waited in his berth until he was sure most of the passengers had left. Then he walked quickly out of the ship, head down and hat pulled low over his face, to lose himself in the crowded spaceport.

  Safe for the time being, at least until the Solar Guard traced him to Earth, Tom moved openly through the streets of Atom City and went directly to the monorail station where he purchased a ticket for Space Academy. He boarded a local train instead of the express and rode the jet-propelled train in the comfort of the dining car where he had a huge meal.