 Chapter 8 of Danger in Deep Space This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Danger in Deep Space by Cary Rockwell, narrated by Slam Holloway. Chapter 8 There, there, shouted Captain Steffens into the mic aboard the jet boat circling around the station. I think I see something bearing about 70 degrees to my left and up about 20 on the ecliptic. Do you see it, Scotty? Tom, in the bucket seat of the jet boat, strained his eyes but was unable to see over the control board. Terry Scott, in a second jet boat 10 miles away, answered quickly. Yes, I think I see it, sir. Good! shouted Steffens. Maybe we've found something. He spoke to Tom over his shoulder, keeping his eye on the floating objects in the black void of space. Come to the starboard about one quarter full turn, Corbett, and hold it, then up about 25 degrees. Aye aye, sir. said Tom. He began to manoeuvre the small, natsize spacecraft to the proper position. That's good. shouted Steffens. Now hold that. Let me see. I think we've hit pay dirt. From the right, Tom could see the red flash of the rockets of Terry Scott's jet boat, which Astro had volunteered to pilot, coming into view. As soon as order had been restored aboard the station, search parties had been sent out to look for survivors. Carefully, Tom slowed the spacecraft in response to Steffens' brief commands, and soon came to a dead halt in space. There, hovering right above them, visible through the crystal dome of the jet boat, Tom could see two space-suited figures floating effortlessly. A moment later, Scott's craft came alongside, and the two small ships were lashed together with magnetic lines. Tom and Steffens hurriedly pulled on their space helmets. They adjusted the valves regulating the oxygen supply in their suits, and Steffens slipped back the sliding top of the jet boat. Out on the hull, he secured a line to a projecting ring, and ordering Tom to stand by, he pushed himself off the ship into the bottomless void of space. The line trailing behind him, Steffens drifted towards the two helpless figures. He reached them in less than a minute, secured the line to their belts, and signalled Tom to haul in. Nearby, Terry Scott and Astro watched as the three figures were pulled to safety. Quickly, the top of the jet boat was closed, oxygen pressure in the craft was restored, and the four men took off their helmets. Said Loring, added Mason. Then, with a quick look at Loring, he asked softly, Were there any other survivors? Steffens' face was grim. Not one. After we untangled the mess, we found bodies of two men. It was pretty bad. A little later, something was spotted on the radar, and we hoped there might be survivors. Luckily for you, we came to look. By the rings of Saturn. Swore Loring softly. Jardine and Bangs were brave men. They practically forced us to pile out when they saw they were going to crack up. He turned to Mason. Didn't they, Al? Yeah, yeah, sure, brave men. Al Mason agreed. Nothing to be done for them now, of course, said Steffens. What happened? He paused, and then added. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to before you make out a report, but I'd sure like to know. I don't really know what happened, sir, said Loring. We had made a deal for a ride back to Earth with Jardine and were sleeping back on the cargo deck. All of a sudden, Jardine came running in. Told us we were about to pile into the station, and for us to suit up and get out. We asked him about himself, but he said he was going to stay and try to save the ship. We piled out and, well, we saw the whole thing from out here. Like a big splash of light. It must have been pretty bad on the station, eh? Plenty bad. But thanks to Cadet Corbett here, there wasn't a single injury. He warned everybody to get off that side of the station. A lot of damage, but no casualties. Don't you have any idea what made the ship crash? Asked Tom quietly. Loring looked at Tom, but spoke to Steffens. I told you all I know, sir. Can I expect to be questioned by everyone in the Solar Guard, including Cadets? Steffens bristled. It was a civil question, Loring. He said stiffly. But you don't have to say anything if you don't want to. Loring and Mason had not expected such a strong defence of the Cadet, and Loring was quick to make amends. I'm sorry, I guess I'm still a bit shaken up. He muttered. Steffens grunted. It wasn't pretty, you know, watching that ship go up and not be able to do anything about it. Loring continued plaintively. Jardine and Bangs, well, they were sort of friends of mine. They were silent all the way back to the station, each with his own thoughts. Steffens puzzling over the cause of the crash, Loring and Mason exchanging quick furtive glances and wondering how long their story would hold up, and Tom wondering how much Rodgers changing the power circuits on the radar had to do with the crash of the ship. That's right, snapped Connell to the two enlisted spacemen. I said I wanted the radar section of the communications deck closed and sealed off until further investigations. You can hook up and use one of the monitors in the traffic control meantime. The two red-clad spacemen turned and walked away. Steffens stood to one side. Didn't you think that's carrying things a little too far, sir? He asked Connell. I'm doing this as much to protect Cadet Manning as I am to prosecute him. I want to be sure there was no connection between the crash of the Annie Jones and his tampering with the radar circuits. Connell replied. I guess you're right, sir. Replied Steffens. There's two survivors, Loring and Mason, having coffee in the mess, if you want to talk to them. Did they change their story? Asked Connell. None at all. They were hooking a ride back to Atom City, and they were asleep in the cargo hold. Jardine, one of the pilots, came in and told them to pile out. They did. Mused Connell. I know those two. Loring and Mason had a little trouble with them recently on a trip to Tara. Suspended their papers. So if they were just hooking a ride, it might be they're telling the truth. I have a report here on the damage to the station, sir, if you'd like to listen to it. Said Steffens, handing his superior a spool of audio tape. Good. Did you make out the report yourself? Asked Connell. Yes, sir. With the assistance of Terry Scott and Cadet Corbett. Good lad, that Corbett. Said Connell and paused. The whole unit is good. If it weren't for that hair-brain manning, I'd say they had as bright a future in the solar guard as any unit I've seen. I'll buy that, sir. Said Steffens with a smile. That Corbett picked up traffic control operations like a duct text to water, and it's been a long time since Genledge and the power deck raved about a Cadet the way he does about Astro. Connell smiled. He was reluctant to press for an investigation of the radar deck, knowing that if he did, it would mean a damaging black mark against manning. But justice was justice, and Connell came closer to worshiping justice than anything else in space. Connell placed the spool of tape in the audiograph and settled in a chair to listen. He didn't like the entire affair. He didn't like to think of losing a cadet of manning's ability because of one stupid mistake. He had recommended a thorough investigation. There was no other way. If manning was cleared of the responsibility for the crash, he was free, and it would not show up against his record. If he wasn't, however, then he'd have to pay. Yes, thought Connell's to himself, as Stefan's voice began to crackle harshly on the audiograph. If manning was guilty, then manning would most certainly pay. Connell would see to that. Deep in the heart of the space station, Lorring and Mason were huddled over steaming cups of coffee, whispering to each other cautiously. One more coffee, Mason. Asked Lorring. Who wants coffee when there's going to be a solar guard investigation? Wind Mason. Suppose they find out something. Relax, will ya? muttered Lorring reassuringly. Connell doesn't suspect a thing. Besides, he has that cadet under arrest. Yeah, argued Mason. But you don't know these guys at Space Academy. All this honor stuff, it's not like a regular investigation. They don't stop digging until they dig up real facts. They'll find out we stowed away and… Lorring calmly added cream and sugar to his coffee. They can't prove a thing. Jardine and bangs are dead, and the ship's nothing but a pile of junk. They'll find out, I tell you, and now we've got murder on our hands. A door behind Mason suddenly opened, and Stephens appeared. Shut up, you fool. Lorring hissed. He turned blandly to face Stephens. Well, Captain, glad you came. I wanted to talk to you about getting us transportation back to Venusport. You'll just have to wait for the jetliner from Earth, said Stephens. See me in about two hours. Right now I've got to make arrangements for the investigation of the crash. Sure, sir. Said Lorring. Say, Captain, what do you expect the investigation to turn up? The true facts. Replied Stephens. Whether the crash was due to the negligence of Cadet Manning, or something that happened on the ship. Then you really think the Cadet may be responsible? Asked Lorring softly. He admits to negligence, and the Annie Jones is a lot of evidence. Said Stephens with a shrug, and walked out. There's our answer. Said Lorring triumphantly. Come on. Where are we going? Asked Mason. We're going to have a little talk with our fall guy. Ah, sit down, Roger. Said Astro. Everything will be okay. Yeah, agreed Tom. You're just wearing out the deck and your nerves walking back and forth like that. Everything will be okay. Tom tried hard to keep any apprehension out of his voice. Nothing will make those two guys on the spaceship okay? Said Roger. He kicked viciously at a storm, and sat down on the side of his bunk. Since the crash Roger had been confined to his quarters, with Tom and Astro bringing him his meals. Tom had watched his unit mate grow more and more bitter over the turn of events, and was afraid Roger would do something rash. The central communicator over the door suddenly buzzed, and the three Cadets waited for the announcement. Cadets Corbett and Astro report to rocket cruiser Polaris for indoctrination on hyperdrive on the double by order of Major Kano. Tom and Astro got up. Astro found it hard to hide his eagerness to begin indoctrination on hyperdrive, and it was only his deep concern for Roger that kept him from letting out one of his bullthroated bellows. Take it easy Roger. Said Tom. The investigation will be over and will be on our way to Tara before you know it. Yeah, space Romeo. Ground Astro. Crawling the sack and resting your bones, you're lucky you can miss this. Roger managed a weak smile. I'll be okay. Go ahead and learn about that hyperdrive before you explode. There was an awkward moment while the three Cadets stared at one another. The deep friendship between them didn't need to be expressed in words. Abruptly Tom and Astro turned and left the room. Roger stared at the closed door for a moment and then flopped on his bunk. He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep. Whatever happened he thought it wouldn't do him any good to knock himself out. As he lay there thinking back to the first months at Space Academy when he'd met Tom and Astro, he heard a knock at the door and he turned to see the steel hatch slide back stealthily. He jumped up. Loring stuck his head inside the door. You alone Menning? He asked. Yeah, who are you? Asked Roger. My name's Loring and this is my space buddy, El Mason. We were on the Annie Jones. Roger's eyes lighted up. Then you know I'm not responsible for the crash. Said Roger. I wouldn't say that kid. Said Loring grimly. I wouldn't say that at all. What do you mean? Demanded Roger. Ashame. Loring shook his head. Young fella like you winding up on the prison asteroid. Prison asteroid? Asked Roger stupidly. Yeah. Grunted Loring. Have you ever seen one of them joints Manning? They work from noon to midnight. Then they give you synthetic food to eat because it costs too much to haul up solid grub. Once you've been on the prison rock you can't ever blast off again. You're washed up as a spaceman. Think you liked that? Why what's that got to do with me? Asked Roger. Just this kid. After the investigation they'll find out your radar scope wasn't working right. Then they'll come to me and ask me what happened aboard the Annie Jones. Well demanded Roger. What did happen? Loring glanced at Mason. Just this kid. Jardin and bangs were on the teleceiver and the radar for 15 minutes trying to pick up your beam. But there wasn't any because you had it fouled up. Roger sat down on the side of the bunk and stared at the two men. If what they said was true Roger knew there could only be one outcome to the investigation. Why are you telling me this? Asked Roger quietly. Very simple. I don't like to see anyone go to the prison rock. Are you Roger hesitated? Are you suggesting that I escape? Loring and Mason got up and walked to the door. Loring turned back to face Roger. I'm not suggesting anything Manning. He said. You're a big boy and should know what's good for you, but... He paused and measured his words carefully. If I were you, I wouldn't wait around for Connell or anyone else to blast my life to pieces by sending me to a prison for one little mistake. The hatch lid closed behind the two spacemen. Roger stood up and began packing a small spaceman's bag. There was a jetliner coming in from Atom City that would make a stop at Venus Port. He glanced at his watch. Thirty minutes. He didn't have much time. End of Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Of Danger in Deep Space This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Danger in Deep Space by Cary Rockwell narrated by Sam Holloway Chapter 9 Attention! Attention! This is a general alert. Tom Corbett's voice was hollow as he spoke over a solar-wide audio cast. Wanted Space Cadet Roger Manning 5 feet 11 inches tall 165 pounds Blue eyes Blonde hair Last seen wearing dress blues Cadet Manning broke confinement to quarters on Venus Space Station and is believed to be heading back to Earth. He is wanted in connection with the crash of the space freighter Annie Jones and the death of two spacemen. All information regarding the whereabouts of Manning should be forwarded to Captain Isaiah M. Patrick, Senior Security Officer, Solar Guard, Space Academy, Earth. This alert is to be transmitted to all local authorities. Tom snapped the switch off and silently watched the glowing audio tubes darken. He turned to one side and saw Astro. The big Venusian was seated on a desk, slumped over. His head held in his massive hands. You know. Said Astro slowly. I could take that guy Manning and break him in two for running out. Tom didn't answer. When they had discovered that Roger was missing, it had been a terrific blow. Unaware that Roger and his confused state of mind had been an easy victim to luring a Mason's trickery and had innocently walked into their trap, the two cadets felt that his escape was a breach of trust. Roger had given his spacemen's word that he would confine himself to his quarters. Roger had broken that trust and now the fact was being flashed around the entire solar system. Roger Manning was an escaped criminal. There's nothing we can do now. Said Tom. The whole universe knows it. He's finished. Washed up. The only thing that could save him now would be absolute clearance by the investigation. But since he's run out, I guess it must be the other way around. He was afraid he was going to get caught. Tom's voice was cold and bitter. We can't blame anyone, but... But Manning! Barked a voice behind them. Astro jumped up and snapped to attention. Tom turned to see Major Connell stride into the room. It was at Connell's insistence that Tom had been ordered to broadcast the alert for Roger. That's the last time I ever want to hear any sympathy for a man who broke his word! Snarled Connell. I have something I'd like to say to the Major. Said Astro in a deliberate voice. As man to man. Even at attention, Tom jerked his head involuntarily to look at Astro. Connell's eyes narrowed. Here it comes. He thought... Well, I've handled rebellion of this sort before. He stepped close to Astro, so close in flat that the black and gold of his uniform brushed the massive chest of the cadet from Venus. You have permission to speak! Man to man! Snapped Connell. Astro paused for a moment. Then he relaxed and brought his eyes down to the level of the Major. I am a human being, sir. Said Astro in the deepest voice Tom had ever heard. It was strong and full of emotion, yet controlled. And as long as I am a human being, I shall consider Roger Manning one of the finest men I'll ever know. Are you finished? Snapped Connell. No, sir. I'm not. Said Astro. I speak in defence of the man, the spaceman, not the uniform or the trust he betrayed. And I respectfully request of the Major that of his feelings for Cadet Manning are so violent that he finds it difficult to control them, that he make a special effort to control them. Astro paused and stuck out his chin. In my presence. Connell stepped back. And if I don't? He shouted. Then I shall ask for a transfer from your command, sir. And if that is not granted, then I shall resign from the academy. And? Asked Connell. And, sir? Astro stumbled. And what? Cadet Astro! Roared Connell. I have nothing more to say, sir. Said Astro. Tom, who had at first had to control an impulse to laugh at the strange seriousness of Astro's manner and tone, now found it equally difficult to hold back the tears that were welling up in his eyes. Connell was not going to let the incident stand there. He had secretly hoped that such a situation would present itself, because he wanted to see what material the Polaris unit was made of. And he was secretly satisfied. Any Cadet who would offer to resign from the academy in defence of his unit mate was a true spaceman. Connell wasn't going to allow Astro or Tom to resign over some foolish trick of Rogers, but at the same time he couldn't allow them to take too many liberties with discipline. Connell turned to Tom. I suppose you feel the same way, Corbett. He asked. I do, sir. Said Tom. Of course you know. I could make your lives miserable now. He threatened. We are aware of that, sir. Said Tom quietly. Very well. Cadets, Corbett and Astro. I shall comply with your request, not because of your request, but out of respect for your feelings as spaceman. I wouldn't have thought much of you if you hadn't come out in defence of Manning. And just for your own sake, Astro. Said Connell, stepping back in front of the big Cadet. Never asked to talk to a solo guard officer man to man again. As long as you're still a member of the Cadet Corps, such disrespect will not be tolerated. Another man who might not have understood your feelings could have used your desire for fair play. As a means of trapping you into one of the worst offences in the spaceman's code, striking a solo guard officer. Yes, sir. Mumbled Astro. Thank you, sir. Report aboard the Polaris. Connell glanced at his watch. In 15 minutes. I'm going to put you through your paces on hyperdrive and the operation of the transmitter. Then we're still going to make the trip to Tara, sir. Ask Tom. We certainly are, Corbett. Replied Connell. In two hours, another Cadet is arriving from the Academy to replace Roger. His name's Alfie Higgins. Perhaps you know him. Tom smiled. Yes, sir. We know him. He replied. Cadet Higgins is a friend of mine. He carries the nickname of The Brain, has the highest IQ in the Academy. Good. I'm glad you know him. Because this is going to be a rough trip. We get off to a bad start, but it's all over now. So forget it. And before I go, I want you to know this. In my personal opinion, Manning had nothing to do with the crash. I think the whole trouble was caused on the ship. I have nothing to back up my opinion, except my feelings. But feelings can go a long way in making a man innocent until proved guilty. Unit dismissed! Alfie Higgins listened attentively to the story of the crash and Roger's disappearance as Tom and then Astro described the situation in detail. It's a penny, of course, but Manning was always the impulsive type. Not very definite in his attitude and emotionally unstable. commented Alfie when the story was finished. Lay off that talky, overstuffed brain. Ground, Astro. In this outfit, Roger is just away on vacation. Yes, yes, of course. said Alfie quickly. It wasn't wise to get off on the wrong foot in a new unit, especially when one was trying to fill the shoes of a Cadet whom Alfie had to admit had everything. Alfie Higgins' mother didn't raise any stupid children, he said to himself. He was too happy being a member of the Polaris Unit, the hottest crew at the Academy, to allow anything to interfere with his success. I've heard a great deal about Hyperdrive. He said quickly, changing the subject. I would appreciate it if you could describe the basis of this new feature in Space Travel so that I may have at least a surface familiarity with its operation and application. Astro gulped and looked at Tom. Might as well get used to that kind of chatter Said Tom, smiling. Alfie can't talk any other way. Is there something wrong with the way I speak? Asked Alfie, wrinkling up his nose a little to see through the thick lenses of his glasses. You want to know about Hyperdrive? Growled Astro. Do be sure if you'd be so kind. Said Alfie. Well, if you'll close your trap long enough, I'll tell you about it. Alfie sat back and waited, hands clasped around one knee. In the first place? Began Astro. Hyperdrive was developed by Joan Dale back at the academy. And it's so blasted simple I get mad at myself for not thinking of it first. Uh, snorted Alfie. I respect your great talent on the power, Deck Astro, but I would hardly compare myself with Dale. Shut up. Bunked Astro. You'll see how simple it is. Hyperdrive is based on the idea that the thrust of the rockets acts in the exact same way on all the atoms inside the spaceship, so you can have as much thrust as you want and no one will feel a thing. Even if the ship were to accelerate a million times faster than the gravity of the Earth, you wouldn't feel a thing, because all the atoms inside would be pushed along at the same time. Astro sat back triumphantly. Commented Alfie. That sounds all right as a principle, but will it work out in space? Listen, you, you! Snorted Astro. Sure it will, Alfie. Said Tom. It's been tested before. Still room for improvement, though. Commented Alfie. I'll improve your head. Barked Astro. If you don't close that big mouth, how do you like that, Tom? We get rid of one space-gassing Romeo, and now we've got one even worse. Astro's reference to Roger made Tom draw a quick breath. In the short while since Alfie's arrival and the week since Roger's disappearance, there hadn't been time to forget their old unitmate and get accustomed to a new personality. Astro sensed Tom's feelings and irritably banged one ham-like fist into the other. Alfie was okay, thought the big Venusian, but by the craters of Luna, he wasn't Roger. Attention, attention. The intercom crackled into life. Polaris unit by order of Major Connell. Stand by to blast off immediately. This is first warning. Pack your gear and stand by to blast off immediately. Tom, Astro, and Alfie got up, and with the image of Roger fresh in their minds, made their way to the landing port deck where the great gleaming spaceship was slung on magnetic gradles. They were met at the hatch by Major Connell. All right. He said, We leave all thoughts of manning right here on the station. Man, oh, it's tough, but we've got a still tougher job to do. This is to be a scientific expedition, and we'll need every ounce of energy and intelligence we have, collectively, to make a success of this mission. Connect orbit. Yes, sir. Replied, Tom. Stand by to blast off in five minutes. End of Chapter 9. Chapter 10 of Danger in Deep Space. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Danger in Deep Space by Kerry Rockwell. Narrated by Sam Holloway. Chapter 10. Can I speak with you a minute, spaceman? Roger turned from the automatic food dispenser and stared at a wizened little man standing beside him, grinning up at him toothlessly. What do you want? Asked Roger. Just talk. Let's sit down at this table, eh? Said the little man, taking the cadet by the arm. Got a little deal I think you might be interested in. Roger cast a quick appraising glance over the shabbily dressed man and walked to the table. Unless someone knew Roger personally, it would have been hard to recognise him, no longer wearing the vivid blue of the senior space cadet, he was now dressed in black trousers fitting snugly around the legs, a midnight blue pullover jersey, and the black-billed hat of the merchant spaceman. His once-close-cropped blonde hair was beginning to grow shaggy around the edges, and with the hat pulled low over his forehead, he might have been another person entirely. Leaving the space station on the jetliner had been easy for Roger, since no one suspected he would violate his trust. But once his absence was discovered and the warrant issued for his arrest, it had been necessary for him to assume some sort of disguise to allude to the solar-guard MPs. Roger had wound up on spaceman's row in Venusport as a matter of course. Luckily, when he left the station, he had the foresight to take all his money with him, so he was not yet in need. On spaceman's row, Roger found the new freedom from discipline enjoyable at first, but now the novelty had worn off. Having visited all of the interesting places on the row, existence there had become boring. His one attempt to leave spaceman's row had nearly met with disaster. Running into a squad of solar-guard MPs, he had made a hurried escape into a nearby jet taxi. Back on the row, Roger had lounged around the cafes, feeling the loneliness that haunts men wanted by the law. And only because he was so lonely, he had agreed to talk to the little man who sat and stared at him from across the table. You were rocket pusher, astragator or skipper? Ask the little man. Who wants to know? Ask Roger cautiously. Look, sunny boy. Was the quick retort. I'm Mr. Shinny. I'm the fixer of spaceman's row. You want something? Come to me and I'll get it for you. I don't care why you're here. That ain't none of my business. But the fact remains that you're here, and you don't come down here unless you're in trouble. Space deep. Roger looked at the little man more closely. Suppose I am in something deep. What could you do for me? He asked. What would you want done? Ask Shinny slyly. Well? Said Roger casually. I could use a set of papers. What happened to your own? Solar guard picked them up. Answered Roger simply. For what? Ask Shinny. Taking ice cream away from the skipper's pet monkey. Snap Roger. Shinny threw back his head and laughed. That's good. Very good. He wiped his mouth after spitting at a nearby cuspidore. He reached over and patted Roger on the arm. You'll do, Sonny. You'll do right well on the row. Join me in a little acceleration sport. What's that? Asked Roger. Rocket juice. Said Shinny. Ain't you never heard of rocket juice? I've heard about it. Said Roger with a smile. And I'm still here to talk about it because I never drank any of it. Roger liked the little man for some reason. He couldn't tell why. He'd met several people on the row since his arrival. But they had all wanted to know how many credits he had and where he was staying. I took a jolt of that stuff once in Lunar City. Said Roger. I was ready to blast off without a rocket ship. Shinny laughed again. Good lad. Well, you won't mind if I have just a little one. He paused and wiped his lips. Aren't you, of course? One. Roger held up his finger. On me, of course. Hey there. Yelled Shinny. You, with the asteroid head, give me a short bucket of that juice and bring a bottle of Martian Fizz along with it. The bartender nodded and Shinny turned back to Roger. Martian Fizz is nothing more than a little water with sugar in it. He explained. Yeah, I know. Replied Roger. What about those papers? I'll talk to you, spaceman to spaceman. Said Shinny. When you're ready to talk to me, spaceman to spaceman. They were silent while the bartender slopped a glass full of bluish liquid in front of Shinny and the bottle of Martian Fizz and a glass in front of Roger. Roger paid for the drinks and poured a glass of the mild sweet water. Sipping it silently, he suddenly put the glass down again and looked Shinny in the eye. You know who I am. He stated quietly. Yep. Replied Shinny. You're Roger Manning, space cadet. Breach of honour and violation of the spaceman's oath escaped from the Venus Space Station on a jet liner, but one of the best men on a radar scanner and astrogation prism in the whole alliance. Shinny related the information rapidly. He had known all the time. Thought Roger. He was testing me. Roger wondered why. What are you going to do about it? Questioned Roger. Thinking about the 1000 credit reward. Standard price offered by the solar guard for all wanted men. If I had wanted to, I could have brought the finest jet liner in space with money made on solar guard rewards. Snap Shinny. We got our own spaceman's code here on the row. It goes something like this. What a man wants to bring with him down here, he brings. What he don't bring, don't exist. Roger smiled and stuck out his hand. All right, Mr. Shinny. I want a set of papers, spacepapers, made out in any name so that I can get out into space again. I don't care where I go or on what or how long I'm gone. I just got a blast off. You want papers for the astrogation deck or control or as a power pusher? That's Shinny. Roger thought for a moment. Better make them for the control deck. He said. Credits. Said Shinny. You have any credits? How much? That's Roger. 100 now? Said Shinny. And then added. And 100 when I deliver. Guaranteed papers? Positively. It's not a Shinny. I don't sell things that ain't good. I'm an honest man. Roger reached inside his jersey and pulled out a small roll of crumpled credit notes. He counted off 100 and handed them over to Shinny. When do I get the papers? Astroger. Tomorrow. Same place, same time. Answered Shinny. What's the name of this place? Astroger. Cafe Cosmos. Roger picked up his glass of sweet water, raising it in a toast to the little man in front of him. Until tomorrow, Mr. Shinny. When you come back here with the papers, or I come looking for you with bare knuckles. You don't scare me. Snapped Shinny. I'll be here. Roger tilted his chair back and smiled his casual smile. I know you'll be back, Mr. Shinny. You see, I really mean what I say. And more important, you know I mean what I say. Shinny got up. Tomorrow. Same time, same place. He said, hurrying out the door. Roger finished the bottle of Martian Fizz, suddenly very depressed. He didn't really want the false papers. He just wanted to get away from the deadly humdrum existence on Spaceman's Row. He walked wearily back to his scrubby little bedroom to wait for the night to come. He hated to go back to the room, because he knew he would think about Tom and Astro and the Space Academy. Now he couldn't allow himself to think about it anymore. It was passed, finished. You got who? Asked Loring. I said I got the best astrogator in the deep fire. Snapped Shinny. Loring looked at Mason and then suddenly burst out laughing, dropping his head on the table. What's the matter with you? Demanded Shinny. You got space fever or something? Mason, sitting quietly in the dirty hotel room, was grinning from ear to ear. So you got madding for us, eh? Repeated Loring at last. I want to tell you something, Shinny. I was the one that got that kid to break out of that space station. You what? Asked Shinny. The little spaceman had come to like the straightforwardness of Roger. That's right, said Loring. When Mason and me lost up taking over the Annie Jones, that kid Manning was on the radar watch at the station. At the same time we were going to crash into the station, he crossed a couple of wires and was talking to his girl back on Earth. They think he fouled up the radar and caused the crash. Then he's your fool guy, commented Shinny thoughtfully. Right, said Loring. And now you come along and tell us that we can get him to astrogate us out of Tara. I tell you, Mason, this is the greatest gag I've heard in years. Yeah, agreed Mason. His weak mouth still stretched in a stupid grin. But you have to be careful, he never finds out it was us that got him into all this trouble. Leave that to me, said Loring. He'll never know a thing. In fact, he'll thank us for getting him off the station and then giving him a chance to get back in space. He turned to Shinny. You got this ship. I told you before. Said Shinny. There ain't anything to be had. Well, we've got to have a ship. Said Loring. A fortune waiting for us in the deep and no space wagon to go get it. There is a ship. Said Shinny. Not too good, but a spaceship. Where? Asked Loring. Near Venusport, out in the jungles, to be exact, needs a little fixing, but it'll make a deep space hop well enough. Who does it belong to? Demanded Loring. Me. Said Shinny. A strange twinkle in his eyes. You? Gasp, Loring. They're the creators of Luna. Where did you get a spaceship? Fifteen years ago, Frater was forced down in the jungles, right near Venusport. Said Shinny. I was prospecting nearby for pitch blend, back when everybody thought Venus was loaded with it. I saw the crew leave in jet boats. Soon as they was out of sight, I went over to take a look. I wanted to see if there was any grub I could swipe, and save myself a trip back to Venusport for more supplies. Anyway, I went aboard and found the grub all right, but I got nosy about why they'd made an emergency touchdown. I looked around the power deck, found they'd busted their reaction timer. I got the idea then of fixing it up, and bringing it back to Venusport to give them young jerks a surprise. I lifted her off the ground, and then figured, why should I give it back? Just move it someplace else, and let the vines and creepers grow over it for a few days. Didn't the crew come back looking for it? Asked Loring. Did they? Chortled Shinny. I'll say they did. Almost drove them poor fellows crazy. I guess they searched for that old wagon for three months before giving up. And, and you mean it's still there, and in good condition? Asked Loring. Needs a little fuel. Said Shinny. And probably a good overhaul, but I don't think there's anything serious to matter with it. By the creators of Luna. Exclaimed Loring. Will blast off immediately. Hold on. Said Shinny. I didn't say I'd give it to you. Well, what do you want for it? Demanded Loring. Ah, let me see. Muse Shinny. I figure that if you figure to get as much as 20 million credits out of the copper, a full court of share ought to be about right. Five million credits for a ship that's been rotting in the jungle for 15 years? Exclaimed Loring. She's in good shape. Defended Shinny. I go out there every six months or so, and turn over the reactors just to keep them from getting rusty. Why didn't you try to do something with it before? Asked Loring. Never had no occasion to. Answered Shinny. Well, is it a deal or isn't it? Too much. Snapped Loring. That's my price. Said Shinny. I could take the ship and not give you anything. Sneered Loring. If the solar guard looked for three months in that jungle with a hundred men and the instruments, do you think you'll find it? I'll give you a fifth share. Said Loring. Nope. Said Shinny. I've known to my price. You either take it or leave it. He glared at Loring. Mason finally spoke. Take it, Loring. He said. And let's get out of here. I'm getting jittery over the investigation that's coming up on the station. All right. Said Loring. It's a deal. One quarter share for the ship. Done. Said Shinny. Now, I guess we'd better go talk to that boy Manning, eh? Don't you think it's a little dangerous taking him along? Wined Mason. Yeah, maybe you're right. Said Loring. If it was me. Said Shinny. I wouldn't give it a second thought. You're going into deep space. It ain't like a hop to Mars or Titan. This is as deep as you can go. If I was you, I'd want the best there is in my crew. And from what I've heard about that young fella, he's the best there is on the radar bridge. You know who his father was. Who? Asked Mason. Ken. Shinny suddenly closed his mouth tight. Just another space man. He said. But a good one. He rose quickly. Well, I'm supposed to meet Manning in an hour at the cosmos. The three men left the dingy hotel and walked out into the main street of Spaceman's Row. In a few moments they arrived at the Cafe Cosmos. Roger was already there, seated at the same table and watching the door. When he saw Loring and Mason with Shinny, he eyed them warily. Hi, kid. Greeted Loring. Glad to see you took my advice and got away from blast of Connell. Mason waved a salute and the three men sat down. Roger ignored Loring and Mason, speaking directly to Shinny. Did you complete our deal? Yes, softly. No. Answered Shinny. I brought you another one instead. Roger held out his hand. My 100 credits. Now. Never mind the credits, kid. Said Loring. We've got more important things to talk about. Roger continued to look at Shinny, his palm outstretched on the top of the table. 100 credits. He repeated coldly. Reluctantly, Shinny handed over the money. Slowly, carefully, Roger counted the bills and then, after putting them away, he turned to face Loring for the first time. You said you have something important to discuss with me? He drawned. I see you learned fast, kid. Said Loring with a crooked smile. I wouldn't trust Shinny as far as I could throw a comet. Mason laughed loudly. The other three men glared at him and he stopped abruptly. Here's the proposition, Manning. Said Loring, leaning across the table. I've got a ship and I want to make a hop into deep space. I want you to do the extrogation. I'm interested. Said Roger. Keep talking. Briefly, Loring described the copper satellite, its potential value, and what they expected to get out of it. Roger listened without comment. When Loring had finished, Shinny told him about the ship and its condition. When Shinny finished, Loring turned to Roger. Well, Manning. He asked, How do you like the setup? How much do I get out of it? Asked Roger. One twentieth of the take. Said Loring. There are four of us. One full quarter share, nothing less. Drawned Roger. One fort to Shinny and one fort to him. Wined Mason. Hell, he leaves us a fourth apiece. That's more than you've got now. Snapped Loring. All right, Manning. You're in. Roger smiled for the first time. When do we blast off? As soon as we get that space wagon in shape, we hit the deep. Said Loring. I think I need a drink on that. Said Shinny. He yelled for the bartender, who brought rocket juice and Martian fizz. Roger picked up the glass of the sweet water and glanced around the table. What's the name of this space wagon you've got buried in the jungles, Mr. Shinny? Ain't got no name. Said Shinny. Roger paused, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Then I propose we name her after the hearts of each of us here at the table. What's that? Asked Loring. Space Devil. Said Roger. Shinny grinned, his frail body trembling slightly from his silent laughter. He held up the glass of rocket juice. I propose a toast to the Space Devil. To the Space Devil. Said the others together. And whatever trouble she brings. Added Roger, softly. End of chapter 10. Chapter 11 of Danger in Deep Space. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Danger in Deep Space by Cary Rockwell. Narrated by Sam Holloway. Chapter 11. Can't get Higgins! Major Connell's voice roared over the ship's intercom as the giant rocket cruiser Polaris blasted smoothly through space. Yes, sir. Squeaked Alfie in reply. Can't get Higgins! Said Connell. I thought I had requested a sight on the Sun Star Regulus at 1500 hours. You did, sir. Replied Alfie. Then why? By the creators of Luna, don't I have that position? I was busy, sir. Came the meek reply. Cadet Higgins! Said Connell patiently. Would you be so kind as to come down to the control deck? In the short space of time since their departure from the space station, Major Connell had learned that to scald Cadet Higgins was not the way to gain his attention. In fact, Major Connell had not been able to find a way of getting the little cadets' attention in any manner at any time on anything. I can't right now, sir. Replied Alfie. What do you mean? You can't! Exploded Connell. I mean, sir. Explained Alfie. Then I've just sighted Tara, and I have to get a position check on her before we go any further to ensure that we traverse the same trajectory on our return trip and thus avoid the problem of finding a new and safe route back. Cadet Alfie Higgins! Connell's voice climbed to a frenzied shriek. If you are not on this control deck in 10 seconds, I'll personally see that you are fed to a dinosaur when we touch down on Tara, and you will never return. Now get down here! Tom and Astro, who could hear the conversation over the intercom, were finding it very difficult to keep from laughing out loud at the innocence of Alfie and the outraged wrath of Major Connell. Tom, particularly, had discovered that Alfie's innocent refusal to be bullied by Connell had made the time pass more quickly on the long haul through deep space. More than once he had seen Major Connell rage against the underweight Cadet and become even more frustrated at his childlike resistance. It had helped Tom forget the empty feeling he experienced every time he called the radar deck and heard Alfie's mild voice, instead of Roger's usual mocking answer. Astro, too, had managed to forget the loneliness he felt aboard the Great Cruiser by watching the antics of Alfie and Major Connell. More than once he had instigated situations where Alfie would get caught red-handed in a harmless era, and then he lay flat on the power deck, laughing until his sides ached as he listened to Alfie and Major Connell over the intercom. It had helped. Both Tom and Astro admitted it had helped, but it still didn't take away the dull ache each felt when an occasional remark, situation, or thought would bring Roger to mind. Tom flipped the Teleseaver on and waited for the blank screen to show him Tara. Connell stood to one side, also watching for the image of the planet to take form on the grey-black screen. A hatch clanked behind them and Alfie stepped into the control deck to snap to his version of attention. Gannett Higgins reporting, sir, he said quietly. Connell stepped in front of him, placed his hands on his hips, and bent slightly, pushing his face almost into Alfie's. Gannett Higgins, I want you to know, I have taken all the blasted space-brained antics I'm going to take from you. Said Connell quietly. Yes, sir. Replied Alfie blandly. And, said Connell, shaking a finger in Alfie's face. And if there is one more, just one more brazen, flagrant disregard of my specific orders, then, kid, debt Higgins, I promise you, the most miserable trip back to Earth, you will ever know in your entire career. I promise you, I'll make you sweat. I'll, I'll... Connell stopped short and shuddered. Alfie's owl-eyed look of innocence seemed to unnerve him. He tried to resume his tirade, but the words failed him. He finally turned away, growling. Higgins, get up on that radar deck and do as you're told, when you're told to do it, and not when you want to do it. Is that clear? Yes, sir. Said Alfie meekly. He saluted and returned to the radar deck. Covered. Snapped Connell. If I should appear to be losing control of myself when addressing kid debt Higgins, you have my official permission to restrain me. Use force if necessary. Tom bit his lip to keep from laughing and managed to mumble. Yes, sir. He turned quickly to the control board and began focusing on the planet lying dead ahead of the decelerating spaceship. They had been slowing down for several days, since their speed with the added hyperdrive had been increased greatly. The uncadet adjusted the last dial and the blue-green planet sprang into clear sharp focus on the screen. Why? gasped Tom. Sir, look, it's just like Earth. In more ways than one, Corbett. Replied Connell. What's our range? I'd say we're close enough to reduce thrust to a quarter regular space speed, sir. Very well. Said Connell. Now, looked in the right on the screen. See that small dark patch over there in the middle of the planet? Yes, sir. Replied Tom. That's where we want to touch down. Said Connell. You stay here in the control deck and maneuver the ship closer in while I go to the radar deck and contact Space Academy on the transmitter. I've got to report that we expect to land soon. Very well, sir. Said Tom. He turned and flipped the intercom switch. Control deck to power deck. He said. Check in, Astro. Power deck here. Replied Astro. What's up, Tom? We just got our first good look at Tara. She's dead ahead. Major Connell's going to contact Space Academy and I'm going to maneuver into our preliminary glide. Standby for course changes. Make it an easy touchdown. I want to get home, you know. Replied Astro, good-naturedly. Okay. Said Tom. Better bring her down to one-quarter space speed. Hybrid or regular? Asked Astro. Regular? Yelled Tom. You give me a quarter on Hyper and we'll go right through the planet. One-quarter regular space speed. Replied Astro. Tom adjusted his controls for the speed reduction while keeping his eyes on the Telaceva screen. He watched the planet grow larger before his eyes and the terrain become more distinct. He could see two large oceans. The green-blue of the water reflecting the sunlight of Alpha Centauri brilliantly. Nearer and nearer the Polaris plummeted and Tom could begin to distinguish the rough outline of mountain ranges along the horizon line. He switched to a large review of the planet on the Magnus scope that revealed a splendor rivaling the beauty of his own cherished Earth. We'll be entering the atmosphere in a minute, Alfie. Yelled Tom into the intercom. A standby to give range for touchdown. Rainard deck, aye. Reported Alfie. Range at present, 500 miles. Power deck, check in. Yelled Tom. Power deck, aye. Returned Astro. All said below. Asked Tom. All said. Said Astro. Reduced thrust to minimum. Shouted Tom. Deep inside the powerful ship, the roar of the mighty atomic rocket motors began to fade to a deep growling pur. Control deck to radar deck. Major Connell, sir. What is it, Corbett? Asked Connell. We're ready for a touchdown. Do you want to take over the bridge? Can't you do it, Corbett? Asked Connell. Yes, sir. Replied Tom. Then carry on. Replied Connell. I'm having some trouble trying to get through to the Academy on the transmitter. Can't understand it. There was a pause. I have them now, Corbett. You carry on. He shouted. Aye, aye, sir. Said Tom. He turned his attention to the control panel, checking the many dowels and gauges with one sweeping glance, and then concentrated on bringing the ship to a safe landing on the foreign planet. His fingers tingled as he reached for the switches that would bring the ship down on the first intergalactic world he had ever visited. In a flash, the curly-haired Cadet remembered childhood dreams of doing just what he was doing now at this moment, preparing to touch down on a new world millions of miles away from his home near New Chicago. Range 100 miles. Reported Alfie over the intercom. Power Deck reduced thrust to absolute minimum. Ordered Tom. I want as little sustaining power as you can give me without cutting out altogether, Astro. Can do. Said Astro. The ship slowed even more, and then suddenly picked up speed again as the gravity of Tara began to tug at the space traveller. Stand by to fire breaking rockets. Yelled Tom. He was all nerves now, sensitive to the throbbing of the great ship's motors, eyes fastened to the dowels and meters on the control panel. There was no time to watch the scanner view of the onrushing planet now. He had to touch down blindly using only his instruments. Radar Bridge report. Snap Tom. Range 1000 feet. Reported Alfie, his calm voice in striking contrast to the nervous excitement in Tom's. 750. 600. 550. Fire breaking rockets. Resped Tom into the intercom. The great ship bucked under the sudden thrust of the huge breaking rockets. The Polaris held steady for a moment. Then gradually, as the pull of Tara began again, she settled back toward the dark green jungles beneath her. 250 feet. Reported Alfie. 175. 150. He droned. Ease her up, Astro. Shouted Tom. Easy. Ease her up, you venusian clunk. We're dropping too fast. Once again, from the heart of the Polaris, there came a roaring blast of the powerful motors. The ship steadied once more and then slipped back into her fall toward the new planet under more sure control. 50 feet. Reported Alfie. 40. 30. 20. There was a brief pause as if everything had stopped and they were held still by a giant hand, and then suddenly a rocking motion, a slight bump and rumble. Tom knew that they were down. Touchdown. He yelled at the top of his voice. Touchdown. We made it. We made it. From the power deck, quiet except for the whining of the oxygen feed pump, Astro's bellow could be heard vibrating through the passageways. Tom began shutting off the many circuits and switches and made a quick last-minute check of the now dead ship. Satisfied, he glanced at the great solar clock, noted the time in the log, and stepped to the ladder leading to the radar bridge. Cadet Corbett reporting, sir. Said Tom, saluting smartly. I wish to report, sir, that the Polaris made touchdown on the planet Tara at exactly 17.59 solar time. Conom, his great bulk bent over the tiny transmitter, was twirling the dials. His head encased in a vacuum earphone helmet to ensure perfect silence. He'd acquired the knowledge of lip-reading out of necessity on the power decks of the old chemical burners 30 years before, and while he couldn't hear what Tom had said, he knew what the report was. There you are, Corbett. He shouted, not being able to judge the volume of his voice. Good job! Can't seem to pick them up at the academy again. Had them once, then lost them. I'm placing you in command of an expedition for a quick look outside. Arm yourselves with Perala ray guns and rifles. Take a jet boat, and in no circumstances are you to land. Dismissed! Oh, yes, one more thing. Take off your higgins along with you and keep your eye on them. Report back in one hour! Tom felt a tingle of excitement run up his backbone as he heard the tough skipper give him permission to explore the planet. He saluted and turned away, Alfie trailing him down the ladder. Hey, Astro! Yelled Tom. Get number one jet boat out of the hatch. We're going for a look-see at this place. Tom went to the gun locker and took out three Perala ray guns and rifles. He made sure each of them was fully loaded and then handed them to Alfie. Put these on the jet boat, Alfie. I'll be along in a minute. Alfie took the guns and walked toward the jet boat catapult deck. Tom returned to the radar bridge and stood before Connell. Would you see if there's any news of Roger, sir, when you make contact with the academy? Connell read the cadet's lips and nodded his head. Tom turned and went directly to the jet boat deck. Astro and Alfie waited for him inside. We're along three spaces, Tom. Said Astro. You can never tell what we might run into. Good idea. Said Tom. The three cadets climbed into the jet boat, Tom taking the pilot's seat. He pushed a release button and a portion of the Perala's steel hull slid back. Tom pressed another button, gripped the wheel of the small spacecraft and stepped on the acceleration pedal. The little red ship shot out of the open hatch and zoomed over the giant trees. Travelling at a slow speed, Tom made a wide arc over the forest, checking his position against that of the Pilaris before losing sight of it. He pulled the tiny ship up to 1,000 feet, levelled off, set the automatic pilot, and took his first close look at Tara, four and a half light years from Earth. From above, Tara seemed to be a quagmire of reptiles, dinosaurs and dense vegetation, reaching as high as the gleaming towers of Venusport and Atom City. Huge trees that spread their branches over an area of 1,000 feet soared skyward, limbs and trunks wrapped in jungle creepers. Now and then Alfie would grasp Tom or Astro by the arm and point a wavering finger at a moving animal below, then gasp and fall back white-faced into his seat. While Tom was inclined to share Alfie's reactions, Astro took it in his stride, having been exposed to the dangers of wild jungles on his own Venus. The tiny jet boat raced across the blue-green sea that swept up into giant swells along the snow-white sandy beaches. It was a temptation to set the small craft down and enjoy the pleasure of a swim after the many days of cramped, tortured living on the Polaris. But Tom remembered Connell's orders and also had a lot of respect for some of the things he had seen swimming in the water. Better get back, said Tom. He flipped the audio phone switch in the jet boat and spoke into a small mic. Jet boat one to Polaris, jet boat one to Polaris, cadet Corbett to Major Connell. There was a crackle of static and then Connell's voice, vibrant and clear, filled the small cabin. Corbett! He roared. By the creators of Luna! I couldn't contact you. Return to the Polaris! On the double! Is there something wrong, sir? Asked Tom, apprehensive after seeing the wildness of the jungle below him. Wrong? Blared Connell. News from Earth. From the Academy. Roger's been cleared of all charges. Cleared? Stammered Tom. Absolutely. When I sealed the radar bridge after the crash, security officer examined the settings on the scanners and transmitting equipment. They showed that Roger had been on duty at the time, that he had been tracking the ship as he claimed. Then what was the reason for the crash? Security isn't sure yet. An acceleration control lever is missing from the wreckage and it wasn't broken off as a result of the crash. Now Loring and Mason are wanted for further questioning. Tom looked at his unitmate Astro. The big venusian had his head turned to one side. He seemed to be staring out over the vast writhing jungle. Astro, did you hear? Asked Tom softly. Yeah. Mumbled Astro in a small choked voice. Just don't ask me to turn around. End of Chapter 11 Chapter 12 of Danger in Deep Space This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Danger in Deep Space by Cary Rockwell narrated by Sam Holloway. Chapter 12 How much longer before we reach the atmosphere at Tarot Manning? Asked Loring Roger bent over the chart table and quickly measured the distance between his present position and that of Tara. About two hours. He said, straightening up. Good. Said Loring. Let me know soon as we get close. Okay. Replied the cadet. Hey, radar deck. Mason's voice came over the intercom from the power deck of the Space Devil. Don't forget to let me know when I have to cut down on thrust. Take it easy, Space Boy. Snapped Roger. You'll know in plenty of time. He turned back to the radar scanner and continued the never-ending sweep of space ahead. After a week of checking and reconditioning the Space Devil in the wild Venusian jungles, Roger had become more and more disgusted with himself. Being a wanted spaceman had had his disadvantages on spacemen's row. But working in the steaming jungles, fighting deadly reptiles and insects with Loring and Mason on his neck every minute had soured his appetite for adventure. Several times, when Roger had suggested a certain part be replaced, Loring and he had argued violently and Roger threatened to quit. Now, after the long, tedious trip through space, Roger's relationship with the others was more strained than ever. The sure dependability of Tom on the control deck and Astro on the power deck made the work of Loring and Mason sloppy by comparison. Once, when Roger had been on radar watch, while the ship rolled through the asteroid belt, collision with a small asteroid had threatened. Roger ordered a course change, but Mason, who had taken over the power deck, had been asleep. Luckily, Shini had been nearby and made the course change and saved the ship. Seathing with anger, Roger had gone to the power deck and given the shiftless spaceman a terrific beating. Over and over, conflicts had arisen among them as they blasted through deep space and always, it seemed to Roger, he was in the middle of it. The only satisfaction he could find in the hazardous venture was the prospect of the five million credits and even this had lost its excitement in the last few days as his nerves stretched to the breaking point. Only the slight humour of Shini had saved Roger from the monotony of the long haul through space. Roger absently flipped the scanner to its farthest range. He had been observing the planet Tara for several hours and knew its shape fairly well, but he suddenly jerked to attention. His hands trembled slightly as he peered intently at the scope. Finally, he slumped back. There was no doubt about it. On the scanner was a jet boat in flight. Hey, Loring, Shini, Mason, get up here on the double. He yelled into the intercom. What's up? Demanded Loring. Get up here. Shouted Roger. We're in for trouble. Plenty of trouble. Presently, the three spacemen were grouped around the scanner, staring at the unmistakable outline of a jet boat. By the rings of Saturn. Declared Loring. It must be Connell and his crew. What are we going to do? Wined Mason. Loring's face darkened. Only one thing we can do now. He ground. What do you mean? Asked Roger. I mean that we're going to blast them. Loring snarled. Connell and whoever else is with him. But, but... Stammered Roger. The Polaris crew is down there. Blessed Manning. Loring turned to the cadet. Have you forgotten that you're wanted by the solar guard? You give that bunch down there a chance and they'll make you a space crawler on prison rock. Why, I... Stammered Roger. He knew what Loring had said was the truth. If it was Connell, there would be no question what would happen to him. He faced Loring. What will you do to them? One well-placed reactant bomb and they'll never know a thing. Snared Loring. But you don't have any bombs aboard, said Roger. A little of the fuel. And I can build one easily enough. Replied Loring. He turned to Mason. Go below and suit up to go into the reaction chamber. He ordered. Get an extra lead suit out. I'll go in and help you. And find something we can use for a trigger and a fuse. He smiled at Roger. It might be a little crude, but it'll be fancy enough for what we want. I'm going to blast the Polaris from here back to your sweet little space academy. Mason and Loring left the radar bridge while Shinny and Roger watched the white blip of the jet boat. That could be Tom and Astro in that jet boat. Said Roger softly to himself. I guess I'd better stand by the power deck while we manoeuvre. Said Shinny. Well, you want to stay hidden until Loring and Mason get that thing ready. Roger nodded, and Shinny disappeared. Maneuvering cautiously, Roger bought the space devil around to the night side of Tara, opposite to the landing side of the Polaris. Four hours later, Loring and Mason came out of the reactant chamber carrying a small lead box. They placed it gently on the deck and began taking off their lead suits. Roger and Shinny stared at the box. There she is. Said Loring. Not much to look at, but there's enough juice in there to blast the Polaris into space junk. Wait a minute, Loring. Said Roger. There'll be no killing. No one gets hurt. Got a squeamish stomach, eh, kid? Loring laughed. He slapped Mason on the back. Ah, Little Space could have suddenly worrying about his friends, the same friends that wanted to send him away to the prison asteroid. Blast the ship if you want. Said Roger coldly. But don't hurt the crew. Listen, Manning. Snarled, Loring. If the crew gets hurt, it ain't my fault. If they're in the ship, that's tough. If not, then that's okay with me. I ain't sending them any letter telling them I'm going to blast their ship and then have them come up after me with a space torpedo. Roger didn't answer. He turned away and climbed back to the radar bridge. Loring followed him up the ladder. Don't get any ideas about warning your buddies, Manning, because if you do, I'll blast you before I blast them. Don't worry, replied Roger. It's daytime on the other side of Taranel where the Polaris The crew might be out on a scouting mission or making observations away from the ship. There's less chance of them being on the ship. If we're going to do it, let's get it over with. Okay with me. Said Loring. Take this wagon up towards Alpha Centauri a little way. Coming out of the sun, they won't see us. We'll use one of the jet boats to deliver our little present. I'll set the fuse, put the jet boat on automatic and aim it right for the Polaris. All right. Agreed Manning reluctantly. He turned to the chart table, plotted a course and issued orders to Shini at the controls and to Mason on the power deck. Soon the space devil was blasting away from the night side of the planet heading toward the sun. When they reached an altitude of a thousand miles above the surface of the planet Loring manoeuvred the jet boat into position outside the ship and placed the crewed reactant bomb inside. Ready, he gave Roger the signal to make the run out of the sun toward the Polaris. Roger relayed the orders to Shini and Mason and the space devil rocketed back toward the planet again. Loring sitting inside the jet boat waited until they had reached an altitude of 500 miles. All right Manning said Loring. Give me the course. Roger calculated the rotational speed of the planet, the space devil's altitude and the speed of the jet boat. He drew a line between the space devil and the Polaris, checked it on the astro compass and reached for the intercom bike. He ran a dry tongue over his lips and called out the course. Course is 143. He caught himself and stared at the chart. Suppose Tom or Astro or anyone was near the ship. Even if he missed by several hundred yards the bomb would certainly be fatal. If he only changed the course one degree at a range of 500 miles it would miss the Polaris by several miles. And Loring wouldn't be able to see anything because of the dust cloud. Course corrected. Said Roger. New course is 142. 142. Repeated Loring. Roger sat back and waited for the small spacecraft to blast off from the ship. In his mind he saw Loring setting the trigger on the bomb, adjusting the controls, setting the automatic pilot and then pressing the acceleration button. Roger grit the sides of the chart table instead at the radar scanner. A fast moving blip was streaking across its surface. Loring had started the jet boat. His eyes showing his great fear Roger watched the blip as it sped down like a maddened hornet toward the Polaris resting on its directional fins in the green jungle. He could hear the hatch slam close below as Loring re-entered the ship. But he continued to watch the rapidly moving blip. Suddenly it disappeared and Roger knew it had reached Tara. He slumped back in his chair. His eyes were glassy, his ears deaf to the roar of triumph from below as Loring and Mason watching the flight of the jet boat on the control deck Tennessee for screen saw it explode. Roger couldn't move. He had fired a reactant bomb at Tom and Astro. Creators of Luna! Roared Connell. We've been attacked! The four earthmen exploring a valley several miles north of the Polaris had been thrown to the ground when the bomb landed. Connell's reaction was immediate and decisive. Get into the jet boat! All of you, we've got to get back to the Polaris. If our ship is smashed we'll spend the rest of our lives fighting this jungle. In a matter of seconds the four spacemen were rocketing over the jungle toward the Polaris. Presently they came to an enormous dust cloud that had mushroomed out over the trees. It was so thick Tom found it difficult to pilot the small craft. Any danger of radioactivity in this dust, sir? Asked Astro. What was that possibility Astro? Answered Connell. We'll know soon enough. He flipped on a built-in Geiger counter on the dashboard of the jet boat and immediately the cabin was filmed with a loud ticking that warned of danger. The counter's up 750, sir. Said Astro. Not enough to bother you unless you're in it a long time. There's the Polaris, sir. Yelled Tom. She's still on her direction or fins. They've missed her, she's okay. By the blessed rings of Saturn! She is! exclaimed Connell. Go on, Tom. Give this baby the gun. If we have to die let's die like spacemen in space fighting with spacemen's weapons. Not crawling around here in the jungle like worms. The three boys smiled at their skipper's rousing statement. This is the time, thought Tom. When I'd rather have Major Connell in command than anyone else in the Solar Guard. If there was to be a fight then they'd certainly found the man who knew how to do just that. Fight. Tom swooped over the treetops recklessly and fearing the blast to damage the jet boat airlock brought the small craft to rest in the blinding dust a few yards away from the Polaris. Three minutes later the four spacemen had separated and were standing by their respective posts. Hasty but thorough checks were made to determine the damage and finding none they prepared to raise ship. I'll clear forward enough. Alfie reported in a high squeaking voice. Energize the cooling pumps. shouted Tom. Astro had already started the mighty pumps their vibrations rocking the ship and Tom began counting the seconds. A standby to raise ship minus five four three two one zero. Pink scanned attention to the crush of the sudden acceleration. Tom gave the ship all the power she could take for the climb out of Tara's atmosphere and soon they were rocketing through the airless void of space. Alfie and Connell hurriedly swept the area with the radar scanner for the attacking intruder. There she is. Roared Connell. There. He placed a finger on a white blip on the scanner. By the craters of Luna that's an earth ship. The fear of an outer space invasion by hostile people from another world had been in the back of his mind but he'd been reluctant to voice his fears in front of the cadets. And she's an old one at that. He exclaimed. Not even armed. I know that class vessel. Corbett. He shouted. Aye aye sir. Replied Tom. Put the ship on automatic flight. Attack approach pattern number three. Then standby to send a message to whoever's manning that ship. Aye aye sir. Replied Tom. He hurriedly set the delicate device that would fly the ship in a pre-planned course of zigzag manoeuvres and open the circuits of the Teleseavers. All set for the message sir. Reported Tom. Tell them. Said Connell heavily. His voice cold. Whoever they are that'll give them two minutes to surrender. If they don't I'll blast them into protons. Very well sir. Said Tom. He turned to the Teleseaver and began twirling the dials. Attention. Attention. Rocket cruiser Polaris to spaceship X. Polaris to spaceship X. You are ordered to surrender within two minutes or we will attack. By order of major Connell senior line officer solar guard. He switched the Teleseaver for reception and waited. In a moment the screen blurred and then an image appeared. Tom gasped. It was Roger. Tom Tom. Yelled Roger. Tom this is me Roger. Roger. What are you doing out here? How'd you get here? I can't explain now. Said Roger. I I... Tom interrupted him. Roger you've been cleared. The investigation of the crash on the station proved that Lawring and Mason are guilty. They're wanted for the crash and the deaths of Jardine and Bangs. What? You mean? Stammered Roger. Yes. Lawring and Mason did the whole thing. Supplied Tom. Look Tom. Pleaded Roger. Give me 10 minutes. Don't fire for 10 minutes. I'm gonna try an idea. If I'm not successful then open up and blast us back to Mars. Roger wait. Shouted Tom. What's going on? What are you doing on that ship? I can't talk now. Answered Roger. Lawring and Mason are on the ship with me. Remember 10 minutes and if I don't contact you then open fire. End of chapter 12. Chapter 13 of Danger in Deep Space This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Danger in Deep Space by Cary Rockwell Narrated by Sam Holloway Chapter 13 Roger flipped off the teleceiver. He stared at the darkened screen and began estimating the chances of success for a plan he had in mind. Deciding that regardless of what happened he had to take over the ship. He got up and turned toward the hatch and the gunlocker. He stopped cold. Lawring stood framed in the doorway, a Perala ray gun in each hand. Just stand right where you are, space boy. Snapped Lawring. You won 10 minutes, huh? 10 minutes for what? I thought there was something funny going on when we missed the Polaris with that bomb. You knew all along that I didn't have anything to do with that crash back on the station, didn't you? shouted Roger. His eyes blazed angrily. Yeah, so what? Ground Lawring. Hey, Mason. He yelled over his shoulder. Get up here in a hurry. We've got to work fast. What are you going to do? Asked Roger. You're still valuable to us, Manning. Said Lawring with a crooked grin. You're going to ensure I'll get what we came after. Mason stepped through the door. Yeah, Lawring. Lawring quickly told him of Roger's attempt to work with Connell. Take our space boy down below and lock him in a storage compartment. He handed over one of the Perala ray guns and Mason shoved the muzzle into Roger's stomach. Get moving, Manning. He snalled. I'd like nothing better than to let you have it right now. Roger smiled, knowing Mason still harboured a grudge for the beating he had taken early on the trip. When you have him locked up, get back on the control deck. Said Lawring. We're going to do some old-fashioned bargaining with blast-off Connell. Bargaining, exclaimed Roger. Yeah, one slightly used space cadet for what we came after. The copper satellite. Connell won't bargain, said Roger. Not for me, not for anything. You don't know him. I know this Manning. Said Lawring. I'm going to get on the teleceiver and tell Connell that if he doesn't blast away from here right now, you're a dead space cadet. He jerked his head toward the door. All right, taking below until Shinny to stand by on the power deck. In case Connell won't bargain, we'll have to make a run for it. Right, said Mason, as he shoved the Perala ray gun deeper into Roger's stomach. Move, Manning. Roger climbed down the ladder and threw the long passageway of the space devil. He passed Shinny on the way down. What's going on here? Demanded Shinny, seeing Mason with the Perala ray gun. We missed with the bomb, said Mason. And Connell raised ship. He's ready to blast us if we don't surrender right away. Lawring's trying to make a deal with him. What kind of a deal? That's Shinny. Hot shot Manning for the satellite. He hasn't told you everything, Mr. Shinny. Said Roger in his casual drawl. They're the ones who caused the crash of the Annie Jones and the Deaths of Jardine and Bangs. They framed me. Then used Shinny. You're cleared. Yeah. Ground Mason. He's cleared. Cleared for a long swim in space if Connell doesn't do what Lawring tells him. Get in there. Mason shoved Roger into the cramped storage compartment. He locked the door and turned to Shinny. Lawring wants you to stand by the power deck in case Connell won't play ball. We might have to make a run for it. Yeah, yeah. Said Shinny. I'll stand by the power deck. Mason turned and walked away. Shinny followed him, a curious gleam in his eyes. Upon the control deck, Lawring was twisting the dials in front of the Teleceiver screen. Space devil to Polaris. Space devil to Polaris. Come in, Polaris. He twisted another dial and watched the darkened screen anxiously. After a moment, the screen blurred and Tom's face gradually came into sharp focus. Lawring gasped Tom. Where's Roger? Never mind him, you punk. Snarled Lawring. Tell that fat-headed Connell I want to talk to him. Make it fast. Tom's face disappeared to be replaced by the raging features of Major Connell. You murdering space rat! He roared. I've given you two minutes to surrender. And by the creators of Luna, you've only got 30 seconds left. It'll only take 10 seconds to tell you that if you don't get out of here, cadet Manning gets blasted. What? Roared Connell. That's right. Snarled Lawring. You're the one that's got 30 seconds to get out of here, or Manning takes a swim in space? Who are you? Connell's face was twisted with rage. You can't threaten me. I ain't threatening you, said Lawring. I'm telling you, if you don't get started, you'll never see Manning again. Well, if you do, you won't recognize him. Now make up your mind, Connell. The solar guard officer hesitated. Give me two minutes, he said. And I'll call you back. Two minutes. Two minutes. Repeated Lawring. And if I don't hear from you by then, or if you try any funny stuff, Manning gets it. Above the Polaris, the screen darkened, and Connell, his fists clenched, turned to Tom. We're helpless, Tom. He said softly. Now that we have proof of Roger's innocence, I have to do everything in my power to save him. Tom didn't say anything. Suddenly Connell smashed one huge fist into another. But by the blessed rings of Saturn, when I do get my hands on that Lawring, I'll... I'll... He broke off suddenly and turned back to the Teleceiver. I'm going to do what he wants, Tom. Roger's life is worth a dozen like Lawring, and we'll have to take a chance that Lawring will keep his word. After all, continued the big officer softly. Our mission is complete. We've tested the transmitter and found it to be more than we expected. No real reason why we should stay around here any longer. Yes, yes, sir. Stammered Tom. Sir, I... I... Connell waved him silent with his hand. You don't need to say anything, Tom. It's just one of those things. Still, I can't help wondering what they came out here for. He turned to the dowels on the Teleceiver and began twisting them. I'll call them. And you stand by to blast out of here. Nicholas Shinny sat on the power deck and listened to Lawring issue orders over the intercom. I don't know if Connell will go for it or not. Said Lawring. But just in case he doesn't, we've got to get out of here fast. You got that Shinny? Yeah. Answered Shinny. I got it. Mason! Yelled Lawring. You take over on the radar bridge. Already up here, said Mason. Well, be sure we've got a clear trajectory out. Better take us into the Sun now for Centauré. That way, maybe they'll miss us on their radar. The Sun will show all sorts of blips on their screen. Okay. Said Mason. You think he'll go for it? I don't know. Answered Lawring. But if he doesn't, it's going to be spaced us for menning. Shinny got up and walked around the deserted power deck. His legs felt weak. The plan he had made was a desperate one. Over and over, he checked the operation in his mind. It would have to be quick, sure, and sudden. That was the only thing that would ensure success. Yes, sir. He thought. If we can surprise him, we can get away with it. He dug out a piece of chewing tobacco, took a bite, eyed the remaining piece, and then shoved the whole thing in his mouth. His cheek bonched. He went to the intercom and flipped it on. Hey, Lawring. Yelled. I've got to check the timer on number three rocket. She's not acting just right. He'll take me about a minute. Okay. Came Lawring's reply. But make it snappy. The timers were to the left of the control board, but Shini turned to the right, and the ladder leading to the lower deck. He eased the hatch open, glanced around, and then climbed down quickly. He stopped at a locker, opened the doors quietly, and took out two Peralo ray guns and two rifles. Then, closing the doors, he made his way to the opposite side of the ship. Hey, Manning. He whispered through the closed, storied hatch. Can you hear me? Who is it? asked Roger. Me, Shini. hissed the wizened spaceman. He opened the hatch, and Roger quickly stepped out. What's the idea? Gasped Roger when Shini shoved a rifle and pistol into his hands. I ain't got time to explain now. Said Shini. We've got to hurry, if we're going to take over this tub. Roger's eyes glowed. You mean? Never mind what I mean. Said Shini. Just listen. Lawring's on the control deck, and Mason's on the radar bridge. Lawring's just talked to Connell. He's trying to make him blast out of here. If Connell doesn't, Lawring's going to dump you in space. Yeah, I know. That murdering space crawler. Snarled Roger. He gripped the rifle tightly. I'll blast him. Now wait a minute. It's Shini. You go up and get Lawring, see? Make it look like you got out by yourself. If you can handle him, okay. I'll stay him back, and if anything goes wrong, I'll back you up. Fine, said Roger. He patted the spaceman on the back and smiled. Don't worry, Mr. Shini. Nothing will go wrong. Watch your step. That Lawring is a smart cookie. Roger turned into the passageway and made his way silently to the control deck hatch. He peered around the edge of the hatch and saw Lawring sitting in front of the teller-ceiver screen. He's back toward Roger. The cadet quickly stepped into the control room, levelled the rifle, and said quietly. All right, Lawring. Keep your hands in view. Lawring spun around instead, opened mouthed at Roger. Man. He gasped. Yeah, me. Said Roger. Call Mason and tell him to come down here on the double. But one wrong move, Lawring, and I'll give you a quick freeze with this ray gun. Moving slowly, Lawring turned to the intercom and flipped the switch. Hey, Mason. Yelled. Come down here a minute, will you? What do you want? Ground, Mason. I've got to figure out this course. Roger stepped close to Lawring, raising the gun. Lawring licked his lips and turned back to the intercom. Don't give me any back talk. I said get down here. Suddenly the teller-ceiver came to life. Polaris to Space Devil. Come in, Lawring. This is Major Connell on the Polaris calling Lawring of the Space Devil. The suddenness of the voice startled Roger, and for a split second he took his eyes off Lawring. In that instance, Lawring leaped for the boy grabbing at the rifle. The quickness of his lunge caught Roger off-guard and he was thrown back against the bulkhead, but he held onto the rifle as Lawring tried to twist it out of his grasp. What the? cried Mason from the ladder leading to the radar bridge. When he saw Roger and Lawring struggling, he grabbed for the Perala ray gun at his slide. Just at that moment, Shinny stepped through the hatch and fired his rifle. Mason was frozen into a rigid statue, unable to move. All right, Lawring. Yelled Shinny. Step back or I'll blast you like I did Mason. Roger wrenched the rifle out of Lawring's grasp and stepped back. Good work, Mr. Shinny. He said to the little spaceman. You sure figured it right. Attention, attention. This is Carnal on the Polaris. Come in, Lawring. Shinny looked over at Roger and winked. Better answer him while I get this joker locked up. He motioned to Lawring, who stood back up against the bulkhead, his hands honey over his head. You dirty, double-crossing, space rat. He snarled at Shinny. Yeah, nah, none of that. Said Shinny, levelling the rifle. You get too noisy. I'll freeze you like I did Mason to keep your trap shut. Lawring cast a side-long glance at Mason, who stood as if carved out of marble. The effects of the ray blast were devastating, having paralysed his entire nervous system. While the victim was still able to breathe and his heartbeat remained normal, he was unable to move so much as an eyelid. The gun was developed after all lethal weapons had been outlawed by the Solar Alliance. Though any victim could be released from its paralysing effect by a neutralising charge from the same gun, while under its power, the victim was reduced to a state of mild hysteria. He was able to hear, see, and think, but not to act. When released, it was not unusual to see a man crumpled to the floor from exhaustion. Lawring marched meekly in front of Shinny to the storage room that had held Roger. The cadet spaceman remained on the control deck. He twisted the dowels of the jealousy from Spoke into the mic. Space Devil to Major Connell, come in. This is Manning on the Space Devil calling Major Connell. Manning! Shouted Connell. I thought you were a prisoner. Ah, it was nothing, Skipper. Said Roger blandly. I just took over the ship. With a little help, of course. A little help? Asked Connell. From whom? Roger then gave the officer a complete review of what had happened to him since leaving the space station, finishing with Shinny's aid in his escape. Why would he want to help you? Asked Connell. I don't know, sir. Replied Roger. Well, never mind, said Connell. Now, suppose you two can handle that ship all right between you. Land on Tarra as soon as you can. I'll get the details then. Aye aye, sir. Replied Roger. Then, just before breaking contact, he yelled into the mic. Hey, Astro, Tom, see you in a few minutes. As the Telsiever screen darkened, Shinny reappeared. He had released Mason from the effects of the Ray Charge, and both Mason and Loring were safe in the storage room. He walked over and slapped Roger on the back. Well, it looks like we did it, sunny boy. He said. Roger turned to look at the wizened spaceman who was still chewing on the plug of tobacco. What made you do this for me, Mr. Shinny? Asked Roger quietly. Tell you a little secret. Said Shinny, with a merry twinkle in his eyes. I was in the solar guard for twenty years. Enlisted man, got into an accident and hurt my leg, but it wasn't in the line of duty, so I was tossed out without a pension. Ever since then, I've been kind of bitter, you might say, and strangely enough, it was Major Connell that kicked me out. But you, you... Gasped Roger. Let's just say... Said Shinny with a smile. That once you're a solar guardman, you're always a guardman. Now, how about getting this wagon down to Tara? Yeah, yeah, sure. Said Roger absently, his eyes trailing after the small, limp pink figure. Once a solar guardman, always a guardman, he thought. Smiling, he turned to the control board. He felt the same way. He was a guardsman, and it was good to be back home. End of Chapter 13. Chapter 14 of Danger in Deep Space. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Danger in Deep Space by Cary Rockwell. Narrated by Sam Holloway. Chapter 14. Major Connell paced nervously in front of the group of spacemen. Tom, Roger, Astro, Alfie and Mr. Shinny were lounging around the small clearing between the Polaris and the Space Devil. A piece of thinned space cloth had been stretched between the two ships to shield the men from the blazing sun. Connell stopped in front of Roger and Shinny. And you say the satellite is three-quarter solid copper? Ask Connell. Yes, sir. Replied Roger. At least that's what Lorring and Mason told us. Where is it? Ask Connell. I mean, where exactly? I spotted her coming in, sir. Replied Roger. I'd say she was about 300,000 miles outside of Tara in perfect orbit. But a blessed rings of Saturn! exclaimed Connell. It's almost too good to be true. The whole solar alliance needs copper desperately. And if what you say is true, that's enough to last for 150 years! Didn't you have any idea they discovered it, sir? Ask Tom. I mean, when they took that unauthorized flight on your first trip out here. Didn't suspect a thing, Tom. Replied Connell. I thought they'd gotten a little space rocky and some homemade rocket juice and just went on a wing ding. Imagine the colossal nerve of those two wanting to corner the market with the largest deposit of copper ever found. How do you plan to get it back, Major? Ask Chiney. I don't know, Chiney. Mr. Chiney. Snapped the wizard spaceman. I'm not one of your cadets. Still a hot-head rocket buster, eh? Ask Connell. I inked the toothless spaceman. It was the same thing that got you kicked out of the solar guard 20 years ago. Wasn't either, and you know it. Snapped Chiney. You retired me because I busted my leg. That helped, said Connell. But the main reason was because you were too hot-headed. Couldn't take orders. Well, said Chiney doggedly. I ain't in no solar guard now, and when you talk to me it's Mr. Chiney. Why, you old goat! Exploded, Connell. I ought to arrest you for aiding criminals. You can't do a thing to me. But, Chiney. Prospecting is prospecting, whether it's in the asteroid belt or out here on Tara. Unable to hold back any longer, the four space cadets suddenly roared with laughter at the site of the two old space folds jarring at each other. Actually, Connell and Chiney were glad to see each other, and when they saw the boys doubled up with laughter, they couldn't help laughing also. Finally, Connell turned to Roger. Can you find that satellite again? He asked. Yes, sir. Roger grinned. All right then. Said Connell finally. Let's go take a look at it. I still won't believe it until I see it. Who's hot-headed now? Snaughted Chiney, climbing into the Polaris. Later, as the rocket cruiser blasted smoothly through space, Connell joined Roger and Alfie on the radar deck. The two cadets were bent over the radar scanner. Pick her up yet? Asked Connell. There she is. Right there, sir. Said Roger, placing a finger on a circular white blip on the scanner. But the magnoscope shows pretty rugged country. I think we'd better take a look on the opposite side. Maybe we can find a better place to touch down. Very well, Manning. Replied Connell. Do what you think best. Tell Tom to land as soon as possible. Aye aye, sir. Replied Roger. Leaving Alfie on watch at the scanner, Roger hurried down the ladder to the control deck, where Tom was seated in front of the great board. Tom. Called Roger, walking up behind his unit mate. We're going to take a look at this baby on the other side, see if we can't find a better place to touch down. Stand by to pick up the surface of the satellite on the teleceiver, as soon as we get close enough. Okay, Roger. Said Tom. Where are you going? Down to Loring and Mason in the cooler. I want to see their faces when I tell them they finally are getting where they wanted to go, but under slightly different circumstances. Tom laughed and turned back to the board. Power deck, check in. Power deck, aye. Replied Astro. When do we sit down on the precious rock, Tom? Ask the Venusian. Should be soon, Astro. Said Tom. Better stand by for manoeuvring. Right. Replied Astro. Tom turned his full attention to the control board and the teleceiver screen above his head. He was happier than he had ever been in his life. The report sent back to Space Academy by Major Connell had been answered with a commendation to both Roger and Shinny for capturing Loring and Mason. With Roger back in the unit, Tom was at peace. Even Alfie was overjoyed at seeing Roger back aboard the Polaris. And Tom had noticed that Major Connell was beginning to call them by their first names. Read our deck to control deck. Said Alfie. From casual observations, Tom, the surface on the far side of the satellite is more suitable for a touchdown. I would suggest you observe the planetoid yourself with the Magnoscope and draw your own conclusions. Okay. Replied Tom. He switched the teleceiver screen onto the more powerful Magnoscope and studied the surface of the small celestial body. He saw a deep valley with a flat hard surface set between two tall cliffs. It would be a tricky spot for a landing, but it looked like the best place available. Tom snapped open the intercom. Attention, attention. Stand by for touchdown. Power deck, stand by for deceleration. Radar bridge, stand by for range and altitude checks. Sharply, crisply, Tom's orders crackled through the ship. Working together with the ease and thoroughness of men well acquainted with their jobs, Astrone, Chiney on the power deck, Roger and Alfie on the radar bridge and Tom on the control deck, handling the delicate manoeuvring combined to bring the great ship to a safe landing on the dry valley floor of the satellite. Touchdown. Yelled Tom and began securing the ship. Two minutes later the entire crew faced Major Connell for briefing. We'll all go out to different parts of the satellite and make geological tests. Announce Connell. We'll pair off two to jet boat. Astrone, Roger. Alfie and Mr. Chiney. Tom and myself. This is a simple test. He held up a delicate instrument and a vial full of colourless liquid. You simply pour a little of this liquid, about a spoonful, on the ground. Wait about five minutes and then stick the end of this into the spot where you pour the liquid. He held up a two foot steel shaft a quarter inch in diameter, fastened to a clock face gauge with numbers from one to a thousand. The other end of the shaft was needle sharp. When you stick this into the ground there'll be a reading on the meter. Relay it to me. This way we'll get an estimate of the amount of copper in a three mile area for a depth of a hundred feet. It must be more than two hundred tonnes per square mile to make it worthwhile. He held up the testing equipment for all to see and explained its use once more. Then giving each team a kit, he ordered them to the jet boats. Just before the crew of Earthman left the Polaris Connell gave them last minute instructions. Report back to the Polaris in one hour. Make as many tests as you can over as wide an area as possible. Don't forget to leave one man in the jet boat while the other is making the test. Keep your audio communicator in the jet boat on at all times. And be sure your belt communicator is always open. Check your oxygen supply and spacesuits. All clear? One by one the spaceman checked in through the audio communicators that all was clear. The sliding hatch on the side of the Polaris was opened and the jet boats blasted out into the brilliant sunlight of Alpha Centurion going in three different directions. Tom piloted his small craft over the rugged surface of the satellite circling the larger peaks and swooping into the small valleys. Connell would indicate when it was time to stop and Tom would set the craft down. While Connell made the tests Tom would talk to the others over the audio communicators. The three small ships covered the satellite quickly in evenly divided sections reporting their readings on the needle-like instrument to Connell who kept recording the reports on a pad at his knee. An hour later the boats returned to the Polaris and the earthmen assembled in the control room. Connell, Tom and Alfie were busy reducing the readings of tests into recognisable copper-ton estimates per square mile. Finally Connell turned around, wiped his brow and faced the others. This is one of the greatest discoveries for earthmen since they learned how to blast off. The big officer paused and then held up the results of the tests. This satellite is really three-quarters solid copper. There was a loud mumble as everyone began talking at once. How are we going to get it back home, sir? Ask Tom. Wouldn't hauling it back in spaceships cost too much? Yes, it would, Corbett. Answered Connell. But I've got an idea how we can lick that problem. Can't see how you can lick it. Snot a chinny. Unless you take the whole blasted satellite back. That's exactly what I'm going to do! Answered Connell. What? exclaimed Roger, momentarily forgetting he was addressing a senior officer. How in blazes are you going to do that? Connell turned to the chart screen projector and switched it on. Immediately an image of earth and its moon and much farther away the sun was visible. Connell stepped to the screen and pointed to the moon. The moon is a captive satellite of earth. Revolving round earth the same way earth revolves round the sun. It's the same situation we have here. This satellite is a captive of Tara and Tara is a captive of Alpha Centauri. The difference is that the satellite is a peanut compared in size to the moon being only about 15 miles in diameter. I'm not sure but I think I can get enough reactant energy out of the space devil's fuel supply to blast the satellite out of Tara's grip and send it back to our solar system in one piece. You mean Sir Ask Tom Perplexed. You'll tear the satellite out of Tara's gravitational pull. That's right Tom. Replied Connell. Using the same principle to clear gravity that we use on the Polaris or any spaceship. Enough power from the rockets will blast a Polaris off Tara. Well if you can get enough power you can blast this satellite out of Tara's grip also. Since the only thing holding it here is the gravity of Tara. The same thing that holds the moon in orbit around earth. Astro's eyes sponged. He looked at Connell blankly. Why Sir? He stammered. It'd take, take a ton of reactant fuel to pull something that size away from Tara. The Polaris is a kiddie car in comparison. You're right Astro. Said Connell. But there's one thing you've forgotten. The copper of the satellite itself. That's going to be the main source of power. The reactant fuel from the space devil will serve only as a starter. A trigger you might say to make use of the copper's fuel. Once again Astro gasped. Then, then there isn't anything to stop you Sir. He finished slowly. Connell smiled. I know there isn't. I'm going to contact Space Academy now for permission to pitch the biggest ball in the history of man. End of chapter 14. Chapter 15 of danger in deep space. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Danger in deep space by Kerry Rockwell. Narrated by Sam Holloway. Chapter 15. Well I'll be a stargazing lunatic. Exclaimed Roger a few minutes later. You really think that you can blast this satellite out of its orbit? Not only that Manning. Said Connell with a smile. But I might be able to get it back to our Sun faster than we could get back ourselves. Why that would be the biggest project ever attempted by Man, Sir. Said Tom, you'd be transporting an entire satellite from one star system to another. That's right Corbett. Said Connell. I've just finished talking to Space Academy and they've given me permission to do anything I think necessary to accomplish just that. Now pay a close attention to me, all of you. We haven't much time. Tom, Roger, Astro, Alphie and Mr. Shinny gathered in a close circle around the major on the control deck of the Polaris and watched him as he drew several rough diagrams on a piece of paper. Getting the satellite back is a trickiest part of the whole operation. Astro are you sure you made a correct estimate on the amount of reactant fuel in the Space Devil? Yes Sir. The Plaid Astro. I checked it four times and Mr. Shinny checked it too. All right then, listen. Said Connell. I've given the satellite a name. From now on we call it Junior. And this will be known as Junior's Pitch. I've explained how Junior is a captive satellite revolving around Tyra the same way our Moon revolves around Earth. We have two problems. One is to blast it out of Tyra's grip and the other is to take advantage of Tyra's orbital speed around its sun Alpha Centauri and Junior's orbital speed around Tyra. We've got to combine the velocities of the orbits so that when we do spring Junior loose he'll gain in speed. But how do we get the orbital speeds to help us Major? Asked Alfie. His glasses had slipped to the very end of his nose. If you'd give the Major a chance he'd tell you big brain. Drawned Roger. Alfie gave Roger a withering look and turned back to the Major. Do you remember when you were kids and tied a rock on the end of a rope and then swung it around your head? Asked Connell. Sure, sort of like a slingshot. Said Astro. That's right Astro. Said Connell. And if you released the rope the rock would fly in the direction it was headed when you let go. I get it. Cryed Tom excitedly. The gravity of Tyra is the rope holding Junior. He fumbled. Making it swing round. And the reactant power of the space devil placed in the right spot would be the trigger to make it let go. Commented Roger. It's as simple as that boys. Said Connell with a smile. But how in the blazing beams of the sun are you going to stop that blasted thing when you get it rolling? Asked Chiny. The chances of Junior hitting anything on the way home are so small it doesn't present a problem. So we just aimed Junior for our solar system. Later on arrangements can be made to steer it into an orbit around our sun. You know. Weas Chiny. His merry eyes twinkling. That sounds pretty neat. It is. Replied Connell. He leaned against the control board desktop and folded his arms across his massive chest. He looked at each of the cadets and Chiny a long time before speaking. Finally he stepped forward and stood among them, turning now and then to speak directly to each of them. We have only four days, five hours, and some minutes to pull Junior out of Tyra's grip. And later the grip of Alpha Centauri. You boys will have to work as you've never worked before. You'll do things you never dreamed you could do. You'll work until your brains ache and your body scream. But when you've finished, you will have accomplished one of man's greatest challenges. You're going to do all this because I know you can. And I'm going to see that you do. Is that clear? There was a barely audible. Yes sir. From the cadets. The six of us working together are going to send a hunk of copper 15 miles in diameter hurdling through 23 million million miles of space. So let's get that ball rolling. With Major Connell roaring, pleading and blasting, four young cadets and a derelict spaceman began the monumental task of assembling the massive information necessary for the satellite's big push through space. During the three days that their project had been under way, Tom, Roger, Astro, Alfie and Mr. Shini worked, as Major Connell promised, as they had never worked before. Late in the afternoon of the third day, Connell stepped through the hatch of the control deck where Tom was busy over a table of ratios for balancing the amount of thrust from each of the reactant power units. The power units were to give Junior its initial thrust out of the gravity of Tara. Oh well, Corbett. Ask Connell. How are you making out with the ratios? I've finished them, sir. Replied Tom, looking up at the Major. His face was drawn, his eyes red from lack of sleep. But I just can't seem to get a time for escaping the orbit on a true tangent. Have you tried making an adjustment for the overall pull of both components? Ask Connell. That of Tara and of Alpha Centauri on Junior. He picked up the paper Tom had been working on and glanced over the figures. Yes, sir. Replied Tom. But I still can't seem to make it come out right. You'll get it, Tom, said Connell. Go over it again. But remember, time's running out. Just one day and about 20 hours left. Connell's voice was friendly, more friendly than at any time Tom could remember. He smiled, and taking a fresh sheet of paper, he began the complicated calculations of escape time all over again. Connell slipped out of the control room and went below to the power deck, where Astro and Mr. Shini had been working without sleep for over 50 hours. When Connell slipped into the room, he found the two men puzzling over a drawing board. What seems to be the trouble, Astro? Ask Connell. Astro turned, startled. We've tried building the lead battle for the reacting units five times now, sir. Said Astro. We're having a hard time getting the correct amount of reactant power we need in a unit this small. Maybe you're trying to make it too small, Astro. Commented Connell, looking over the drawing. Remember, this unit has but one job. To start the reaction. When the reaction fuel gets hot enough, it'll start a reaction on the copper and junior and sustain itself. Try a smaller amount of the reactant. But whatever you do, keep working. Only a day and a few hours left. Connell looked at Shini. Keep him working, Mr. Shini. He ordered. I know he can do it. Just keep him going. Shini grinned and nodded. I'll try, sir. Said Astro, shaking his head. But I won't guarantee it. Connell cut him off with a roar. Get it, Astro. I don't want your guarantee. I want that unit. Now, build it. Hour after hour, the cadets racked their brains for what seemed like impossible answers to an impossible task. Working until their eyes closed fast shut, they would lie down right where they were, power deck, control deck or radar bridge, and sleep. They would awake, still groggy, drink hot tea, eat cold sandwiches, and continue their struggle with time and astrophysics. One by one, the problems were solved and set aside for newer ones that arose on the way. Each cadet worked in his particular field, and all of their information was assembled and coordinated by Major Connell. More than once, Connell had found the clever minds of his cadets reaching for answers to questions he knew would have troubled the professors back at Space Academy. Connell, his eye on the clock, is sharped and lashing out when he thought detected unclear thinking raced from one department to another while the incessant work continued. On the morning of the fourth day, he walked into the radar bridge where Roger and Alfie had been working steadily for 72 hours on an electronic fuse to trigger the reactant units. There you are, Skipper. Said Roger. The fuse is all yours, delivered 12 hours ahead of time. Good work, Roger. You too, Alfie. Excellent! Said Connell, his eyes appraising the fuse. That's nothing, Skipper. Said Roger with a smile. Anyone could have done it with Alfie here to help. He's got a brain like a calculator. Now, I want to see how smart you two really are. Said Connell. Huh? Asked Roger stupidly. Alfie'd slumped to the deck, holding his head in his hands. I want a communications unit. Said Connell. That can send out a constant beam. A signal Space Academy can pick up to follow Junior in transit back to Earth. In 12 hours? Exploded Roger. Impossible, Skipper. Cadet Manning! Roared Connell. I don't want your opinion! I asked for that unit! But one day, sir. Said Roger. Not even a day, 12 hours. I can't, sir. I'm sorry. I'm so tired I can't see straight. Alfie let out a low moan. Connell studied the two cadets. He was aware that he'd already asked them to do the impossible, and they had done it, and they deserved to be let alone. But Major Connell wasn't himself unless he had given every ounce of energy he had left, or the energy left in those around him. He patted Roger on the shoulder and spoke softly. Roger, did I ever tell you that I think you have one of the finest brains for electronics I've ever seen? And that Alfie is sure to have a brilliant future in astrophysics! Roger stammered. Well, uh, thank you, sir. Alfie looked up at Connell and then struggled to his feet. You know, Roger. He said haltingly. If we took that unit, we came out here to test. You know, the transmitter unit. Roger cut him off. Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing. We could borrow some of the reaction mass, the astray good out of the space devil, and use that as a power source. Connell backed away from the two cadets and tiptoed off to the bridge. He smiled to himself. He was going to win his race with time yet, and he was going to do it because he'd learned long before that you could only push a man so far. Then you had to sit down, pat him on the back, tell him how smart he was, and he would push himself. Connell almost laughed out loud. Six hours later, Connell sat in his quarters puzzling over one of the many minor problems of Junior's pitch. When he heard footsteps behind him, he turned. Astro, Tom, Roger, Alfie and Shini walked silently into the room. Connell stared. Is it? He demanded. We've finished, sir. Said Tom, simply. Finished! Exploded Connell. You mean? That's what he means, Skipper. Said Shini. His eyes were bloodshot for want of sleep, but there was a merry twinkle left tugging up the corners. Everything! Ask Connell. Everything, sir. Said Roger. The power units were built, and the fuses installed. All it needs is to be set. Tom's worked out the ratios and the amount of reactant fuel needed in each unit for escape tangent. The escape time, combining orbital speeds of Tara and Junior, are completed, and we have six hours and 55 minutes before blast-off. He turned and rumbled Alfie's hair. Alfie and I have completed the communications unit and have tested it. Junior is ready to get his big kick in the pants. Connell stood up. He was speechless. It was almost too much to believe. Get below! He roared. And go to sleep! If I catch one of you awake in five minutes, I'll lug your fifties of merits! The tired workers grinned back at their commander. I'll get everything set! Said Connell. And wake you up an hour before we have to get things ready. Now hit the sack! Their grins spreading even wider on their haggard faces, they turned away. Connell stepped to the desk on the control-decker and wrote across the face of the logbook page. October 2nd, 2353. Space cadets Corbett, Manning, Astro and Higgins and Exxon-listed Spaceman Nicholas Shinney completed this day all preparation for Operation Junior's pitch. By authority vested in me as Senior Officer, Solar Guard, I hereby recommend official commendation of well done to the above-mentioned Spaceman, and that all honours pursuant to that commendation be officially bestowed on them. Signed Connell Major S.O.S.G. He closed the book and wiped the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand. End of Chapter 15.