"Work up an estimated range, Roger," said Strong, "and give me a distance on our approach."
"Aye, aye, sir," Roger replied. "Objective four miles away now, sir."
"When we hit three miles," said Strong to Tom, "have Astro stand by the forward braking jets."
"Aye, sir," said Tom.
"Three-and-a-half miles," said Roger a few moments later. "Closing in fast. _Lady Venus_ looks like a dead ship."
"That could only mean one thing," said Strong bitterly. "There has been a power-deck failure of some sort."
"Three miles to objective, sir," reported Roger. "I think I can pick her up on the teleceiver now, but only one way, from us to her."
"All right," said Strong, "see what you can do."
In a few moments the teleceiver screen glowed and then the silver outline of the _Lady Venus_ appeared on the screen.
"I don't see any damage to her hull," said Strong half to himself. "So if it was an explosion, it wasn't a bad one."
"Yes, sir," said Tom. "Shall I stand by with the flares?"
"Better send up a yellow identification flare, identifying us as the Solar Guard. Let them know who we are!"
Tom turned to the yellow button on his left and pressed it. Immediately a white flash resembling a meteor appeared on the teleceiver screen.
"There should be an answer soon," said Strong.
"Three thousand yards to objective," reported Roger.
"Fire braking rockets one half," ordered Strong.
Tom relayed the order to Astro and made the necessary adjustments on the control panel.
"Stern drive rockets out," ordered Strong.
Once again Tom relayed the message to Astro and turned to the control board.
"Cut all rockets!" ordered Strong sharply.
The great ship, slowed by the force of the braking rockets, became motionless in space a bare five hundred yards from the _Lady Venus_.
"They should be sending up their safety-factor flare soon," said Strong.
"Keep trying to raise them on the teleceiver, Roger."
Strong was peering through a crystal port directly at the ship hanging dead in space opposite them. There wasn't any sign of life. Tom stepped to the side of Steve Strong and looked out at the crippled passenger ship.
"Why don't we go aboard, sir?" asked Tom.
"We'll wait a little longer for the flare. If we don't get it soon--"
"There it is, sir!" shouted Tom at Strong's side.
From the flare port near the nose of the commercial ship, a ball of fire streaked out.
"Red!" said Strong grimly, "That means we can't go alongside. We'll have to use jet boats."
"Captain Strong," shouted Roger from the radar deck, "they're signaling us with a small light from the upper port on the starboard side!"
"Can you read it?" asked Strong quickly.
"I think so, sir. They're using standard space code, but the light is very dim."
"What do they say?"
" ... reaction ... chamber--" said Roger slowly as he read the blinking light, " ... radiation ... leaking around ... baffle ... all ...
safe...." Roger stopped. "That's all, sir. I couldn't get the rest of it."
Strong turned to the intercom. "Astro, get the jet boats ready to blast off immediately. Roger, send this message. 'Am coming aboard. Stand by to receive me on your number-one starboard jet-boat catapult deck, signed, Strong, Captain, Solar Guard.'"
"Yes, sir!" replied Roger.
"Get into your space suit, Tom, and give Astro a hand with the jet boats. I have to get a message back to Space Academy and tell them to send out help right away."
"Aye, sir," said Tom.
"Roger," said Strong, "stand by to record this message for the teleceiver in case Space Academy should call our circuit while we're off the ship."
"All set, sir," came the reply from the radar deck.
"O.K.--here goes--Captain Steve Strong--Solar Guard--am boarding passenger ship _Lady Venus_. Secondary communications signal message received indicates it is power-deck failure. Am taking cadets Corbett, Manning and Astro and boarding same at"--he paused and glanced at the clock--"thirteen hundred fifty one hours!"
"That all, sir?" asked Roger.
"That's it. Get that set on the open circuit for any one calling us, then climb into your space suit!"
In a matter of minutes, the four spacemen of the _Polaris_ crew were making last-minute adjustments on their space suits. Astro picked up his heavy belt of tools and strapped them around his waist.
"What's that for, Astro?" asked Strong. "They'll have tools aboard the ship if we need them."
"If that lead baffle in the reaction chamber has worked loose, sir, the odds are ten to one that the control chamber is flooded with radiation.
And if it is, the tools are probably so hot you couldn't use them."
"That's good thinking, Astro," complimented Strong. He turned to Tom and Roger and checked their suits and the oxygen supply and feeder valves on their backs. He then turned his back while Tom checked his, and Roger adjusted Astro's.
"All right, turn on your communicators and test them," ordered Strong.
One by one the boys flipped on the switch of the portable spacephones in their fish-bowl helmets and spoke to each other. Strong indicated that he was satisfied and turned toward the jet-boat catapult deck, the three boys following him in single file.
"Astro, you and Roger take number-one boat," said Strong. "Tom and I will take number two." His voice had a harsh metallic tone through the headset spacephones.