Danger in Deep Space | Page 8

asked Astro.
"You know he's the roughest officer in the Academy," replied the
blond-haired cadet. "He eats cadets for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
And then has an extra one for dessert. He isn't just tough--his hide's
made of armor plate. But I've got a hunch that if we play dumb at first,
then smarten up slowly, we can make him feel that he's done it for us.
So he'll be easier on us."
"Say, it's after eleven!" exclaimed Tom. "We'd better hurry!"
Suddenly, as if a rocket cruiser were blasting off in the corridors, a roar,
deafening and powerful, filled their ears. And beneath its ferocity there
were four unmistakable words:
"Polaris unit--staaaaaaaannnnnndddddd toooooo!"
Every muscle, every bone in their three bodies snapped to rigid
attention simultaneously. Eyes straight, chins in, the cadets waited for
whatever calamity had befallen them. From behind came quick, heavy
footsteps. They drew closer until they passed alongside and then
abruptly stopped. There, in front of them, stood the one and only Major
"Blast-off" Connel!
Though a few inches shorter than Astro, he was what Astro might
become in thirty years, heavily muscular, with a barrel chest that filled
the gold-and-black uniform tightly. He stood balanced on the balls of

his small feet like a boxer, hands hanging loosely at his sides. A
bulldog chin jutted out of his rough-hewn face as if it were going to
snap off the head of the nearest cadet. He towered over Tom and Roger,
and though shorter than Astro, he made up for this by sheer force of
personality. When he spoke, his voice was like a deep foghorn that had
suddenly learned the use of vowels.
"So this is the great Polaris unit, eh?" he bellowed. "You're two
minutes late!"
Tom suddenly felt that he and his unit-mates were all alone in the
corridor with the major. He glanced to one side, then the other,
cautiously, and saw it was empty. And for good reason! No one wanted
to be around when "Blast-off" Connel was blasting. Cadets, enlisted
men, and even officers were not safe from his sudden outbursts. He
drove himself so hard that he became impatient with others who were
not able to match his drive. It was not because of ego but rather to get
the job at hand finished. More than once he had dressed down a captain
of the Solar Guard in the same tone he used on a green Earthworm. It
was legend around the Academy that once, believing he was right, he
had broken into the Council Chamber itself to argue his point. He won
by a unanimous decision. Nothing, but nothing, had been devised or
thought of that could stop "Blast-off" Connel. Every waking moment of
his adult life had been spent in the pursuit of more and more knowledge
about space, space travel, and life on the other planets.
Now, his wrath at fever pitch at their being tardy, he stood in front of
the cadets, turning his anger on Roger first.
"Your name's Manning, isn't it?" he growled.
"Yes, sir!" replied Roger.
"Father got a medal--used to be a Solar Guard officer?"
"That's right, sir. He was killed in space."
"I know. He was a good man. You'll never be the man he was, if you

live ten thousand years. But if you don't try to be a better man than he
was, you won't live five minutes with me! Is that clear, Cadet
Manning?"
"Very clear, sir!" gulped Roger.
Connel turned to Astro.
"And you're the home-grown atomic-rocket genius, Venusian style,
eh?"
"Yes, sir," choked Astro. "I'm from Venus."
"Bucked rockets on the old chemical burners as a kid before entering
the Academy, eh?" asked Connel. There was less than an inch and a
half between Astro's face and Major Connel's jaw.
"Yes, sir," answered Astro, "I was an enlisted man before coming to the
Academy."
"Well, get this, you rocket buster," roared Connel. "I want a power
deck that will give me what I want, when I want it, or you'll be back in
the ranks again. Is that clear, Cadet Astro?"
"Yes, sir! Everything she's got, when you want it, sir."
"And I like to have a power deck clean enough to eat off the deck
plates!"
"Yes, sir," stuttered Astro, growing more and more confused. "You like
to eat off the deck plates, sir!"
"By the craters of Luna, no! I don't like to eat off the deck plates, but I
want them clean enough to eat there if I want to!"
"Yes, sir!" Astro's voice was hardly above a whisper.
"And you're the tactical wizard that won the space maneuvers recently,
singlehanded, eh?" asked Connel, bending down to face Tom.

"Our side won, sir. If that answers your question," replied Tom. He was
as nervous