Stand by for Mars! | Page 4

Be ready to take the Academy oath at"--he paused and glanced at the senior cadet who held up three fingers--"fifteen hundred hours. That's three o'clock. All clear? Blast off!"
Just as the boys began to move, there was a sudden blasting roar in the distance. The noise expanded and rolled across the hills surrounding Space Academy. It thundered over the grassy quadrangle, vibrating waves of sound one on top of the other, until the very air quivered under the impact.
Mouths open, eyes popping, the cadet candidates stood rooted in their tracks and stared as, in the distance, a long, thin, needlelike ship seemed to balance delicately on a column of flame, then suddenly shoot skyward and disappear.
"Pull in your eyeballs!" McKenny's voice crackled over the receding thunder. "You'll fly one of those firecrackers some day. But right now you're Earthworms, the lowest form of animal life in the Academy!"
As the boys snapped to attention again, Tom thought he caught a faint smile on Cadet Herbert's face as he stood to one side waiting for McKenny to finish his tirade. Suddenly he snapped his back straight, turned sharply and stepped through the wide doors of the building. Quickly the double line of boys followed.
"Did you see that, Astro?" asked Tom excitedly. "That was a Solar Guard patrol ship!"
"Yeah, I know," replied Astro. The big candidate from Venus scratched his chin and eyed Tom bashfully. "Say, Tom--ah, since we sort of know each other, how about us trying to get in the same quarters?"
"O.K. by me, Astro, if we can," said Tom, grinning back at his friend.
The line pressed forward to Cadet Herbert, who was now waiting at the bottom of the slidestairs, a mesh belt that spiraled upward in a narrow well to the upper stories of the building. Speaking into an audioscriber, a machine that transmitted his spoken words into typescript, he repeated the names of the candidates as they passed.
"Cadet Candidate Tom Corbett," announced Tom, and Herbert repeated it into the audioscriber.
"Cadet Candidate Astro!" The big Venusian stepped forward.
"What's the rest of it, Mister?" inquired Herbert.
"That's all. Just Astro."
"No other names?"
"No, sir," replied Astro. "You see--"
"You don't say 'sir' to a senior cadet, Mister. And we're not interested in why you have only one name!" Herbert snapped.
"Yes, sir--uhh--Mister." Astro flushed and joined Tom.
"Cadet Candidate Philip Morgan," announced the next boy.
Herbert repeated the name into the machine, then announced, "Cadet Candidates Tom Corbett, Astro, and Philip Morgan assigned to Section 42-D."
Turning to the three boys, he indicated the spiraling slidestairs. "Forty-second floor. You'll find Section D in the starboard wing."
Astro and Tom immediately began to pile Manning's luggage to one side of the slidestairs.
"Take your luggage with you, Misters!" snapped Herbert.
"It isn't ours," replied Tom.
"Isn't yours?" Herbert glanced over the pile of suitcases and turned back to Tom. "Whose is it then?"
"Belongs to Cadet Candidate Roger Manning," replied Tom.
"What are you doing with it?"
"We were carrying it for him."
"Do we have a candidate in the group who finds it necessary to provide himself with valet service?"
Herbert moved along the line of boys.
"Will Cadet Candidate Roger Manning please step forward?"
Roger slid from behind a group of boys to face the senior cadet's cold stare.
"Roger Manning here," he presented himself smoothly.
"Is that your luggage?" Herbert jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
"It is."
Roger smiled confidently, but Herbert merely stared coldly.
"You have a peculiar attitude for a candidate, Manning."
"Is there a prescribed attitude, Mr. Herbert?" Roger asked, his smile broadening. "If there is, I'll be only too glad to conform to it."
Herbert's face twitched almost imperceptibly. Then he nodded, made a notation on a pad and returned to his post at the head of the gaping line of boys. "From now on, Candidate Manning, you will be responsible for your own belongings."
Tom, Astro, and Philip Morgan stepped on the slidestairs and began their spiraling ascent to the forty-second floor.
"I saw what happened at the monorail station," drawled the third member of Section 42-D, leaning against the bannister of the moving belt. "By the craters of Luna, that Manning felluh sure is a hot operator."
"We found out for ourselves," grunted Astro.
"Say, since we're all bunkin' togethuh, let's get to knowin' each othuh. My name's Phil Morgan, come from Georgia. Where you all from?"
"New Chicago," replied Tom. "Name's Tom Corbett. And this is Astro."
"Hiya." Astro stuck out a big paw and grinned his wide grin. "I guess you heard. Astro's all the name I've got."
"How come?" inquired the Southerner.
"I'm from Venus and it's a custom from way back when Venus was first colonized to just hand out one name."
"Funny custom," drawled Phil.
Astro started to say something and then stopped, clamping his lips together. Tom could see his face turn a slow pink. Phil saw it too, and hastily added:
"Oh--I didn't mean anything. I--ah--" he broke off, embarrassed.
"Forget