The Space Pioneers | Page 9

captain pointed to the ladder leading to the radar deck.
"Manning's on duty now and will take care of you, sir."
"Thank you," said the governor, turning to the ladder.

A moment later, as Captain Strong and Tom were idly discussing the
forthcoming screening operations on Venusport, they were surprised to
see Roger climb down the ladder from the radar bridge.
"What are you doing down here, Manning?" inquired Strong. "I thought
you were sending out messages for Governor Hardy."
Roger dropped into the co-control pilots' seat and shrugged. "The
governor said he'd handle it. Said the messages were top secret and that
he wouldn't burden me with their contents, since he knew how to
operate a teleceiver!"
Puzzled, Tom looked at Roger. "What could be so secret about this
mission?" he asked.
"I don't know," answered Roger. "After that speech the president of the
Solar Council made the other night, the whole Alliance must know
about the project, the screening, and practically everything else."
Strong laughed. "You space brats see adventure and mystery in
everything. Now, why wouldn't a man in charge of a project as large as
this have secret messages? He might be talking to the president of the
council!"
Tom blushed. "You're right, sir," he said. "I guess I let my imagination
run riot."
"Just concentrate on getting this wagon to Venus in one piece, Corbett,
and leave the secret messages to the governor," joked Strong. "And any
time you get too suspicious, just remember that the governor was
appointed head of this project by the Solar Alliance itself!"
Blasting through space, leaving a trail of atomic exhaust behind her, the
Polaris rocketed smoothly through the dark void toward the misty
planet of Venus. In rotating watches, the cadets ran the ship, ate, slept,
and spent their few remaining spare hours attending to their classroom
work with the aid of soundscribers and story spools. Each of them was
working for the day when he would wear the black-and-gold uniform of

the Solar Guard officer that was respected throughout the system as the
mark of merit, hard work, distinction, and honor.
[Illustration]
Once, Captain Strong and Astro donned space suits and went outside to
inspect the hull of the Polaris. The ship had passed through a swarm of
small meteorites, each less than a tenth of an inch in diameter but
traveling at high speeds, and some had pierced the hull. It was a simple
and quick job to seal the holes with a special atomic torch.
Like a giant silver bullet speeding toward a bull's-eye, the rocket ship
pin-pointed the planet Venus from among the millions of worlds in
space and was soon hovering over Venusport, nose up toward space,
ready for a touchdown at the municipal spaceport. As the braking
rockets quickly stopped all forward acceleration, the main rockets were
cut in and the giant ship dropped toward the surface of the tropical
planet tailfirst.
Tom's face glowed with excitement as he adjusted one lever and then
another, delicately balancing the ship in its fall, meanwhile talking into
the intercom and directing Astro in the careful reduction of thrust. On
the radar deck Roger kept his eyes glued to the radar scanner and
posted Tom on the altitude as the ship drew closer and closer to the
ground.
"One thousand feet!" yelled Roger over the intercom. "Nine
hundred--eight--seven--six--"
"Open main rockets one half!" called Tom. "Reduce rate of fall!"
The thunder of the rockets increased and the mighty ship quivered as its
plummeting descent was checked slightly. Tom quickly adjusted the
stabilizer trim tabs to keep the ship perpendicular to the ground, then
watched the stern scanner carefully as the huge blast-pitted concrete
ramp loomed larger and larger.
"Five hundred feet to touchdown," tolled Roger in more slow and

measured tones. "Four hundred--three--two--"
On the scanner screen Tom could see the exhaust flare begin to lick at
the concrete ramp, then splash its surface until it was completely
hidden. He grasped the main control switch tightly and waited.
"One hundred feet," Roger's voice was tense now. "Seventy-five,
fifty--"
Tom barked out a quick order. "Blast all rockets!"
In immediate response, the main tubes roared into thunderous life and
the Polaris shook as the sudden acceleration battled the force of gravity.
The ship's descent slowed perceptibly until she hovered motionless in
the air, her stabilizer fins only two feet from the concrete ramp.
"Cut all power!" Tom's voice blasted through the intercom. A split
second later there was a deafening silence, followed by a heavy
muffled thud and the creak of straining metal as the Polaris came to
rest on the ramp.
"Touchdown!" yelled Tom. He quickly cut all power to the control
board and watched as one by one the gauges and dials registered zero
or empty. The