"We'll just cruise for a while on this orbit so you boys can get the feel of the ship and of space." The Solar Guard officer took Tom's place in the command pilot's chair. "You knock off for a while. Go up to the radar bridge and have a look around. I'll take over here."
"Yes, sir." Tom turned and had to restrain himself from racing up the ladder to the radar bridge. When he climbed through the hatch to Roger's station, he found his unit-mate tilted back in his chair, staring through the crystal blister over his head.
"Hiya, spaceboy," smiled Roger. He indicated the blister. "Take a look at the wide, deep and high."
Tom looked up and saw the deep blackness that was space.
"It's like looking into a mirror, Roger," he breathed in awe. "Only there isn't any other side--no reflection. It just doesn't stop, does it?"
"Nope," commented Roger, "it just goes on and on and on. And no one knows where it stops. And no one can even guess."
"Ah--you've got a touch of space fever," laughed Astro. "You'd better take it easy, pal."
Tom suppressed a smile. Now, for the first time, he felt that there was a chance to achieve unity among them. Kill him with kindness, he thought, that's the way to do it.
"All right, boys!" Captain Strong's voice crackled over the speaker.
"Time to pull in your eyeballs and get to work again. We're heading back to the spaceport! Take your stations for landing!"
Tom and Astro immediately jumped toward the open hatch and started scrambling down the ladder toward their respective stations while Roger strapped himself into his chair in front of the astrogation panel.
Within sixty seconds the ship was ready for landing procedure and at a nod from Captain Strong, who again strapped himself into the second pilot's chair, Tom began the delicate operation.
Entering Earth's atmosphere, Tom gave a series of rapid orders for course changes and power adjustments, and then, depressing the master turn control, spun the ship around so that she would settle stern first toward her ramp at the Academy spaceport.
"Radar deck to control deck," called Roger over the intercom. "One thousand feet to touchdown!"
"Control deck, aye," answered Tom. "Control deck to power deck. Check in."
"Power deck, aye," replied Astro.
"Stand by to adjust thrust to maximum drive at my command," ordered Tom.
"Power deck, aye."
The great ship, balanced perfectly on the hot exhaust, slowly slipped toward the ground.
"Five hundred feet to touchdown," warned Roger.
"Main rockets full blast," ordered Tom.
The sudden blast of the powerful jets slowed the descent of the ship, and finally, fifty feet above the ground, Tom snapped out another order.
"Cut main rockets! Hold auxiliary!"
A moment later there was a gentle bump and the _Polaris_ rested on the ramp, her nose pointed to the heavens.
"_Touchdown!_" yelled Tom. "Cut everything, fellas, and come up and sign the log. We made it--our first hop into space! We're spacemen!"
CHAPTER 10
"The next event will be," Warrant Officer McKenny's voice boomed over the loud-speaker and echoed over the Academy stadium, "the last semifinal round of mercuryball. _Polaris_ unit versus _Arcturus_ unit."
As two thousand space cadets, crowded in the grandstands watching the annual academy tournament, rose to their feet and cheered lustily, Tom Corbett turned to his unit-mates Astro and Roger and called enthusiastically, "O.K., fellas. Let's go out there and show them how to play this game!"
During the two days of the tournament, Tom, Roger and Astro, competing as a unit against all the other academy units, had piled up a tremendous amount of points in all the events. But so had Unit 77-K, now known as the _Capella_ unit. Now with the _Capella_ unit already in the finals, the _Polaris_ crew had to win their semifinal round against the _Arcturus_, in order to meet the _Capella_ in the final round for Academy honors.
"This is going to be a cinch," boasted Astro. "I'm going to burn 'em up!"
"Save it for the field," said Tom with a smile.
"Yeah, you big Venusian ape," added Roger. "Make points instead of space gas."
Stripped to the waist, wearing shorts and soft, three-quarter-length space boots, the three boys walked onto the sun-baked field amid the rousing cheers from the stands. Across the field, the cadets of the _Arcturus_ unit walked out to meet them, stopping beside McKenny at the mid-field line. Mike waited for the six boys to form a circle around him, while he held the mercuryball, a twelve-inch plastic sphere, filled with air and the tricky tube of mercury.
"You all know the rules," announced McKenny abruptly. "Head, shoulders, feet, knees, or any part of your body except your hands, can touch the ball. _Polaris_ unit will defend the north goal," he said, pointing to a white chalk line fifty yards away, "_Arcturus_ the south," and he pointed to a line equally distant in the opposite direction.
"Five-minute periods, with one-minute rest between. All clear?"
As captain of the _Polaris_ unit, Tom nodded, while smiling at the captain of the _Arcturus_ team, a tow-headed boy with short chunky legs named Schohari.
"All clear, Mike," said Tom.
"All clear here, Mike," responded Schohari.
"All right, shake hands and take your places."
The six boys shook hands and jogged toward respective opposite lines.
Mike waited for them to reach their goal lines, and then placed the ball in the middle of a chalk-drawn circle.
Toeing the line, Tom, Roger and Astro eyed the _Arcturus_ crew and prepared for the dash to the ball.
"All right, fellas," urged Tom, "let's show them something!"
"Yeah," breathed Astro, "just let me get my size thirteens on that pumpkin before it starts twisting around!"
Astro wanted the advantage of the first kick at the ball while the mercury tube inside was still quiet. Once the mercury was agitated, the ball would be as easy to kick as a well-greased eel.
"We'll block for you, Astro," said Tom, "and you put every ounce of beef you've got into that first kick. If we're lucky, we might be able to get the jump on them!"
"Cut the chatter," snapped Roger nervously. "Baldy's ready to give us the go ahead!"
Standing on the side lines, Warrant Officer McKenny slowly raised his hand, and the crowd in the grandstand hushed in eager anticipation. A second passed and then there was a tremendous roar as he brought his hand down and blew heavily on the whistle.
Running as if their lives depended on it, the six cadets of the two units raced headlong toward the ball. Tom, just a little faster than Roger or Astro, flashed down the field and veered off to block the advancing Schohari. Roger, following him, charged into Swift, the second member of the _Arcturus_ crew. Astro, a few feet in back of them, running with surprising speed for his size, saw that it was going to be a close race between himself and Allen, the third member of the _Arcturus_ unit. He bowed his head and drove himself harder, the roar of the crowd filling his ears.