Stand by for Mars!

  CHAPTER 6

  "Well, Steve, how's everything going?"

  Captain Steve Strong didn't answer right away. He returned the salute ofa Space Cadet passing on the opposite slidewalk and then faced CommanderWalters who stood beside him, eyeing him quizzically.

  "Things are shaping up pretty well, Commander," he replied, finally,with an air of unconcern.

  "The Earthworm units buckling down to business?" Commander Walters'voice matched Strong's in nonchalance.

  "Yes, I'd say so, sir. Speaking generally, of course." Strong felt theback of his neck begin to flush as Walters kept eyeing him.

  "And--speaking specifically, Steve?"

  "Why--ah--what do you mean, sir?"

  "Let's stop fencing with each other, Steve." Walters spoke kindly butfirmly. "What about Manning and Unit 42-D? Are those boys learning towork together or not? And I want facts, not hopes!"

  Strong hesitated, trying to word his reply. In these weeks that hadfollowed Tom's fight with Roger in the gym, there had been no furtherincidents of open warfare. Roger's attitude, once openly defiant, hadnow subsided into a stream of never-ending sarcasm. The sting had beentaken out of his attack and he seemed satisfied merely to annoy. Astrohad withdrawn into a shell, refusing to allow Roger to bother him andonly an occasional rumble of anger indicated his true feelings towardhis troublesome unit-mate. Tom maintained his role of peacemaker anddaily, in many ways, showed his capacity for leadership by steering hisunit-mates away from any storm-provoking activities.

  Strong finally broke the silence. "It's difficult to answer thatquestion with facts, Commander Walters."

  "Why?" insisted Walters.

  "Well, nothing's really happened," answered Steve.

  "You mean, nothing since the fight in the gym?"

  "Oh--" Strong flushed. "You know about that?"

  Commander Walters smiled. "Black eyes and faces that looked like rawbeef don't go unnoticed, Steve."

  "Uhh--no, sir," was Strong's lame reply.

  "What I want to know is," pursued Walters, "did the fight proveanything? Did the boys get it out of their systems and are theyconcentrating on becoming a unit?"

  "Right now, Commander, they're concentrating on passing their manuals.They realize that they have to work together to get through this seriesof tests. Why, Dr. Dale told me the other day that she's sure Tom's beengiving Roger a few pointers on control-deck operation. And one night Ifound Manning giving Astro a lecture in compression ratios. Of course,Manning's way of talking is a way that would confuse the Venusian morethan it would help him, but at least they weren't snarling at eachother."

  "Hmm," Walters nodded. "Sounds hopeful, but still not conclusive. Afterall, they have to help each other in the manuals. If one member of theunit fails, it will reflect on the marks of the other two and they mightbe washed out too. Even the deadliest enemies will unite to save theirlives."

  "Perhaps, sir," replied Strong. "But we're not dealing with deadlyenemies now. These are three boys, with three distinct personalitieswho've been lumped together in strange surroundings. It takes time andpatience to make a team that will last for years."

  "You may have the patience, Steve, but the Academy hasn't the time."Commander Walters was suddenly curt. "When does Unit 42-D take itsmanuals?"

  "This afternoon, sir," replied Strong. "I'm on my way over to theexamination hall right now."

  "Very well. I won't take any action yet. I'll wait for the results ofthe tests. Perhaps they will solve both our problems. See you later,Steve." Turning abruptly, Commander Walters stepped off the slidewalkonto the steps of the Administration Building and rapidly disappearedfrom view.

  Left alone, Strong pondered the commander's parting statement. Theimplication was clear. If the unit failed to make a grade high enough towarrant the trouble it took keeping it together, it would be broken up.Or even worse, one or more of the boys would be dismissed from theAcademy.

  A few minutes later Strong arrived in the examination hall, a large,barren room with a small door in each of the three walls other than theone containing the entrance. Tom Corbett was waiting in the center ofthe hall and saluted smartly as Strong approached.

  "Cadet Corbett reporting for manual examination, sir!"

  "Stand easy, Corbett," replied Strong, returning the salute. "This isgoing to be a rough one. Are you fully prepared?"

  "I believe so, sir." Tom's voice wasn't too steady.

  A fleeting smile passed over Strong's lips, then he continued. "You'lltake the control-deck examination first. Manning will be next on theradar bridge and Astro last on the power deck."

  "They'll be here according to schedule, sir."

  "Very well. Follow me."

  Strong walked quickly to the small door in the left wall, Tom staying arespectful step behind. When they reached the door, the officer presseda button in the wall beside it and the door slid open.

  "All right, Corbett. Inside." Strong nodded toward the interior of theroom.

  The boy stepped in quickly, then stopped in amazement. All around himwas a maze of instruments and controls. And in the center, twin pilot'schairs.

  "Captain Strong!" Tom was so surprised that he could hardly get thewords out. "It's--it's a real control deck!"

  Strong smiled. "As real as we can make it, Corbett, without allowing thebuilding to blast off." He gestured toward the pilot's chairs. "Takeyour place and strap in."

  "Yes, sir." His eyes still wide with wonder, Tom stepped over to theindicated chair and Strong followed him, leaning casually against theother.

  He watched the young cadet nervously adjust his seat strap and put acomforting hand on his shoulder. "Nervous, Corbett?"

  "Yes, sir--just a little," replied Tom.

  "Don't worry," said Strong. "You should have seen the way I came intothis room fifteen years ago. My cadet officer had to help me into thecontrol pilot's seat."

  Tom managed a fleeting smile.

  "Now, Corbett"--Strong's voice became businesslike--"as you know, thesemanual tests are the last tests before actually blasting off. In thepast weeks, you cadets have been subjected to every possibleexamination, to discover any flaw in your work that might later crop upin space. This manual operations test of the control board, likeManning's on the radar bridge and Astro's on the power deck, is designedto test you under simulated space conditions. If you pass this test,your next step is real space."

  "Yes, sir."

  "I warn you, it isn't easy. And if you fail, you personally will washout, and if other members of the unit do not get a high enough mark toaverage out to a passing grade for all of you, you fail as a unit."

  "I understand, sir," said Tom.

  "All right, then we'll begin. Your crew is aboard, the air lock isclosed. What is the first thing you do?"

  "Adjust the air circulating system to ensure standard Earth conditions."

  "How do you do that?"

  "By pressing this button which will activate the servo units. Theyautomatically keep the circulating pumps in operation, based onthermostatic readings from the main gauge." Tom pointed to a black clockface, with a luminous white hand and numbers.

  "All right, carry on," said Strong.

  Tom reached over the huge control board that extended around him forsome two feet on three sides. He placed a nervous finger on a smallbutton, waited for the gauge below to register with a swing of the hand,and then released it. "All pressures steady, sir."

  "What next?"

  "Check the crew, sir--all departments--" replied Tom.

  "Carry on," said Strong.

  Tom reached out and pulled a microphone toward him.

  "All hands! Station check!" said Tom, and then was startled to hear ametallic voice answer him.

  "Power deck, ready for blast-off!" And then another voice: "Radar deck,ready for blast-off!"

  Tom leaned back in the pilot's seat and turned to the captain. "Allstations ready, sir."

  "Good! What next?" asked Strong.

  "Ask spac
eport tower for blast-off clearance--"

  Strong nodded. Tom turned back to the microphone, and without looking,punched a button in front of him.

  "Rocket cruiser--" He paused and turned back to Strong. "What name do Igive, sir?"

  Strong smiled. "_Noah's Ark_--"

  "Rocket cruiser _Noah's Ark_ to spaceport control! Request blast-offclearance and orbit."

  Once again a thin metallic voice answered him and gave the necessaryinstructions.

  On and on, through every possible command, condition or decision thatwould be placed in front of him, Tom guided his imaginary ship on itsimaginary flight through space. For two hours he pushed buttons, snappedswitches and jockeyed controls. He gave orders and received them fromthe thin metallic voices. They answered him with such accuracy, andsometimes with seeming hesitation, that Tom found it difficult tobelieve that they were only electronically controlled recording devices.Once, when supposedly blasting through space at three-quarters spacespeed, he received a warning from the radar bridge of an approachingasteroid. He asked for a course change, but in reply received onlystatic. Believing the recording to have broken down, he turnedinquiringly to Captain Strong, but received only a blank stare inreturn. Tom hesitated for a split second, then turned back to thecontrols. He quickly flipped the teleceiver button on and began plottingthe course of the approaching asteroid, ignoring for the moment hisother duties on the control deck. When he had finished, he gave thecourse shift to the power deck and ordered a blast on the starboard jet.He waited for the course change, saw it register on the gauges in frontof him, then continued his work.

  Strong suddenly leaned over and clapped him on the backenthusiastically.

  "Good work, Corbett. That broken recording was put there intentionallyto trap you. Not one cadet in twenty would have had the presence of mindyou showed in plotting the course of that asteroid yourself."

  "Thank you, sir," stammered Tom.

  "That's all--the test is over. Return to your quarters." He came overand laid a hand on Tom's shoulder. "And don't worry, Corbett. While itisn't customary to tell a cadet, I think you deserve it. You've passedwith a perfect score!"

  "I have, sir? You mean--_I really passed?_"

  "Next step is Manning," said Strong. "You've done as much as one cadetcan do."

  "Thank you, sir"--Tom could only repeat it over and over--"thank you,sir--thank you."

  Dazed, he saluted his superior and turned to the door. Two hours in thepilot's chair had made him dizzy. But he was happy.

  Five minutes later he slammed back the sliding door and entered thequarters of 42-D with a lusty shout.

  "Meet Space Cadet Corbett--an Earthworm who's just passed hiscontrol-deck manual operations exam!"

  Astro looked up from a book of tables on astrogation and gave Tom a wansmile.

  "Congratulations, Tom," he said, and turned back to his book, addingbitterly, "but if I don't get these tables down by this afternoon for mypower-deck manual, you're sunk."

  "Say--what's going on here?" asked Tom. "Where's Roger? Didn't he helpyou with them?"

  "He left. Said he had to see someone before taking his radar-bridgemanual. He helped me a little. But when I'd ask him a question, he'djust rattle the answer off so fast--well, I just couldn't follow him."

  Suddenly slamming the book shut, he got up. "Me and these tables"--heindicated the book--"just don't mix!"

  "What's the trouble?"

  "Ah--I can get the easy ones about astrogation. They're simple. But it'sthe ones where I have to _combine_ it with the power deck."

  "Well--I mean--what specifically?" asked Tom softly.

  "For instance, I've got to find the ratio for compression on the mainfiring tubes, using a given amount of fuel, heading for a givendestination, and taking a given time for the passage."

  "But that's control-deck operations--as well as astrogation and power!"exclaimed Tom.

  "Yeah--I know," answered Astro, "but I've still got to be able to do it.If anything happened to you two guys and I didn't know how to get youhome, then what?"

  Tom hesitated. Astro was right. Each member of the unit had to depend onthe other in any emergency. And if one of them failed...? Tom saw whythe ground manuals were so important now.

  "Look," offered Tom. "Suppose we go over the whole thing again together.Maybe you're fouled up on the basic concept."

  Tom grabbed a chair, hitched it close to the desk and pulled Astro downbeside him. He opened the book and began studying the problem.

  "Now look--you have twenty-two tons of fuel--and considering theposition of your ship in space--"

  As the two boys, their shoulders hunched over the table, began reviewingthe table of ratios, across the quadrangle in the examination hallRoger Manning stood in a replica of a rocket ship's radar bridge andfaced Captain Strong.

  "Cadet Manning reporting for manual examination, sir." Roger brought uphis arm in a crisp salute to Captain Strong, who returned it casually.

  "Stand easy, Manning," replied Strong. "Do you recognize this room?"

  "Yes, sir. It's a mock-up of a radar bridge."

  "A workable mock-up, cadet!" Strong was vaguely irritated by Roger'snonchalance in accepting a situation that Tom had marveled at. "You willtake your manuals here!"

  "Yes, sir."

  "On these tests you will be timed for both efficiency and speed andyou'll use all the tables, charts and astrogation equipment that you'dfind in a spaceship. Your problems are purely mathematical. There are nodecisions to make. Just use your head."

  Strong handed Roger several sheets of paper containing written problems.Roger shuffled them around in his fingers, giving each a quick glance.

  "You may begin any time you are ready, Manning," said Strong.

  "I'm ready now, sir," replied Roger calmly. He turned to the swivelchair located between the huge communications board, the adjustablechart table and the astrogation prism. Directly in front of him was thehuge radar scanner, and to one side and overhead was a tube mounted on aswivel joint that looked like a small telescope, but which was actuallyan astrogation prism for taking sights on the celestial bodies in space.

  Roger concentrated on the first problem.

  " ... you are now in the northwest quadrant of Mars, chart M, areatwenty-eight. You have been notified by the control deck that it hasbeen necessary to jettison three quarters of your fuel supply. For thelast five hundred and seventy-nine seconds you have been blasting atone-quarter space speed. The four main drive rockets were cut out atthirty-second intervals. Making adjustment for degree of slip on eachsuccessive rocket cutout, find present position by using cross-fix withRegulus as your starboard fix, Alpha Centauri as your port fix."

  Suddenly a bell began to ring in front of Roger. Without hesitation headjusted a dial that brought the radar scanner into focus. When thescreen remained blank, he made a second adjustment, and then a third andfourth, until the bright white flash of a meteor was seen on thescanner. He quickly grabbed two knobs, one in each hand, and twistedthem to move two thin, plotting lines, one horizontal and one vertical,across the surface of the scanner. Setting the vertical line, hefingered a tabulating machine with his right hand, as he adjusted thesecond line with his left, thus cross-fixing the meteor. Then he turnedhis whole attention to the tabulator, ripped off the answer withlightning moves of his fingers and began talking rapidly into themicrophone.

  "Radar bridge to control deck! Alien body bearing zero-one-five,one-point-seven degrees over plane of the ecliptic. On intersectingorbit. Change course two degrees, hold for fifteen seconds, then resumeoriginal heading. Will compensate for change nearer destination!"

  Roger watched the scanner a moment longer. When the rumbling blast ofthe steering jets sounded in the chamber and the meteor flash shifted onthe scanner screen, he returned to the problem in his hand.

  Seven minutes later he turned to Strong and handed him the answer.

  "Present position by dead reckoning is northwest quadrant of Mars,chart O, area thir
ty-nine, sir," he announced confidently.

  "_I was unable to get a sight on Alpha Centauri_"]

  Strong tried to mask his surprise, but a lifted eyebrow gave him away."And how did you arrive at this conclusion, Manning?"

  "I was unable to get a sight on Alpha Centauri due to the presentposition of Jupiter, sir," replied Roger easily. "So I took a fix onEarth, allowed for its rotational speed around the sun and took thecross-fix with Regulus as ordered in the problem. Of course, I includedall the other factors of the speed and heading of our ship. That wasroutine."

  Strong accepted the answer with a curt nod, motioning for Roger tocontinue. It would not do, thought Strong, to let Manning know that hewas the first cadet in thirty-nine years to make the correct selectionof Earth in working up the fix with Regulus, and still have the presenceof mind to plot a meteor without so much as a half-degree error. Ofcourse the problem varied with each cadet, but it remained essentiallythe same.

  "Seven-and-a-half minutes. Commander Walters will be surprised, to saythe least," thought Steve.

  Forty-five minutes later, Roger, as unruffled as if he had been sittinglistening to a lecture from a sound slide, handed in the rest of hispapers, executed a sharp salute and walked out.

  "Two down and one to go," thought Strong, and the toughest one of themall coming up. Astro. The big Venusian was unable to understand anythingthat couldn't be turned with a wrench. The only thing that would preventUnit 42-D from taking Academy unit honors over Unit 77-K, the unitassigned to Lieutenant Wolcheck, would be Astro. While none of themembers of the other units could come up to the individual brilliance ofCorbett or Manning, they worked together as a unit, helping one another.They might make a higher unit rating, simply because they were betterbalanced.

  He shrugged his shoulders and collected the papers. It was as muchtorture for him, as it was for any cadet, he thought, and turned to thedoor. "All right, Astro," he said to himself, "in ten minutes it'll beyour turn and I'm going to make it tough!"

  Back in the quarters of Unit 42-D, Tom and Astro still pored over thebooks and papers on the desk.

  "Let's try again, Astro," sighed Tom as he hitched his chair closer tothe desk. "You've got thirty tons of fuel--you want to find thecompression ratio of the number-one firing-tube chamber--so what do youdo?"

  "Start up the auxiliary, burn a little of the stuff and judge what it'llbe," the big cadet replied. "That's the way I did it on the spacefreighters."

  "But you're not on a space freighter now!" exclaimed Tom. "You've got todo things the way they want it done here at the Academy. By the book!These tables have been figured out by great minds to help you, and youjust want to burn a little of the stuff and guess at what it'll be!" Tomthrew up his hands in disgust.

  "Seems to me I heard of an old saying back in the teen centuries aboutleading a horse to water, but not being able to make him drink!" drawledRoger from the doorway. He strolled in and kicked at the crumpled sheetsof paper that littered the floor, stark evidence of Tom's efforts withAstro.

  "All right, wise guy," said Tom, "suppose you explain it to him!"

  "No can do," replied Roger. "I tried. I explained it to him twenty timesthis morning while you were taking your control-deck manual." He tappedhis head delicately with his forefinger. "Can't get through--too thick!"

  Astro turned to the window to hide the mist in his eyes.

  "Lay off, Roger," snapped Tom. He got up and walked over to the bigcadet. "Come on, Astro, we haven't got much time. You're due in theexamination hall in a few minutes."

  "It's no good, Tom, I just can't understand that stuff." Astro turnedand faced his unit-mates, his voice charged with sudden emotion. "Justfifteen minutes on the power deck of anything with rockets in her andI'll run her from here to the next galaxy. I--I can't explain it, butwhen I look at those motors, I can read 'em like you read an astrogationchart, Roger, or you the gauges on the control deck, Tom. But I justcan't get those ratios out of a book. I gotta put my hands on thosemotors--touch 'em--I mean really _touch 'em_--then I know what to do!"

  As suddenly as he had started, he stopped and turned, leaving Tom andRoger staring at him, startled by this unusual outburst.

  "Cadets--stand _to!_" roared a voice from the doorway.

  The three cadets snapped to attention and faced the entrance.

  "Take it easy, Earthworms!" said Tony Richards. A tall cadet withclosely cut black hair and a lazy, smiling face stood in the doorway.

  "Lay off, Richards," said Tom. "We haven't time for gags now. Astro'sgoing to take his power-deck manual in a few minutes and we're crammingwith him."

  "O.K.--O.K.--don't blow your jets," said Richards. "I just wanted to seeif there were any bets on which unit would cop honors in the manualsthis afternoon."

  "I suppose you think your Unit 77-K will finish on top?" drawled Roger.

  "I'd like to bet all the galley demerits we have in 77-K against yours."

  "With Astro on our team?" complained Roger.

  "What's the matter with Astro?" asked Richards. "From what I hear, he'shot stuff!" It wasn't a compliment, but a sharp dig made with a slysmile. Astro balled his huge hands into fists.

  "Astro," said Roger, "is the type that can smell out trouble on anypower deck. But today he came down with a cold. No, I'm afraid it's nobet, Richards."

  "I'll give you two to one," Richards offered.

  "Nothing doing," replied Roger. "Not even at five to one. Not withAstro."

  Richards grinned, nodded and disappeared.

  Roger turned to face the hard stare of Tom.

  "That was the dirtiest sellout I've ever heard, Manning," Tom growled.

  "Sorry, Corbett," said Roger. "I only bet on sure things."

  "That's O.K. with me, Manning," said Astro, "but I'm afraid you soldyourself a hot rocket, because I'm going to pass!"

  "Who are you kidding?" Roger laughed and sprawled on his bunk.

  Astro took a quick step forward, his fists clenched, his face a mask ofburning anger, but Tom quickly jumped in front of him.

  "You'll be late for the exam, Astro!" he shouted. "Get going or it'llcount against your mark!"

  "Huh. What's a few points more or less when you're going to failanyway," snorted Roger from the bunk.

  Again, Astro started to lunge forward and Tom braced himself against theVenusian's charge, but suddenly the burly cadet stopped. DisengagingTom's restraining arms, he spoke coldly to the sneering boy on the bed.

  "I'm going to pass the exam, Manning. Get that? I'm going to pass andthen come back and beat your head off!" Turning on his heel, he stalkedout of the room.

  Tom immediately wheeled to face Roger, fire in his eyes, and thearrogant cadet, sensing trouble, jumped to his feet to meet him.

  "What's the idea of giving Astro a hard time?" demanded Tom.

  "Cool off, Corbett," replied Roger warily. "You're fusing your tubesyou're so hot."

  "You bet I'm hot! Hot enough to blast you--again!" Tom deliberately spatout the last word.

  Roger flushed and brought his fists up quickly as though to charge in,then suddenly dropped them again. He turned to the door and slowlywalked out.

  "Go blow your jets," his voice drifted back to Tom as he disappeared.

  Tom stood there, looking at the empty door, almost blind with rage andfrustration. He was failing in the main job assigned to him, that ofkeeping the unit on an even keel and working together. How could hecommand a crew out in space if he couldn't keep the friction of his ownunit under control?

  Slowly, he left the room to wait for Astro in the recreation hall wherethe results of the manuals would be announced. He thought of Astro, nowprobably deep in his exam, and wondered how bad it would be for him.Then another thought crossed his mind. Roger had said nothing of his owntest and neither he nor Astro had even inquired.

  He shook his head. No matter where the unit placed in the manuals, itjust couldn't stay together.