Danger in Deep Space Part 32

"But how, sir?" asked Tom.

"It's very simple, Tom," answered Connel. His voice was strangely quiet.

"Junior spins on its axis in two hours, just as Earth spins in twenty-four hours. I thought we had the explosions timed so at the proper moment we'd push Junior out of his...o...b..t around Tara, and the greater orbit around Alpha Centauri, by utilizing both speeds, plus the initial thrust. But by being one blast short, forty minutes late, the explosion will take place when Junior is forty minutes out of position"--he paused and calculated rapidly in his mind--"that's about forty-eight thousand miles out of position. When it goes off, instead of sending Junior out into s.p.a.ce, it'll blast it right into its own sun!"

"Isn't there something we can do, sir?" asked Tom.

"Nothing, Corbett," answered Connel wearily. "Instead of supplying the Solar Alliance with copper, in another week Junior will be hardly more than a molten piece of s.p.a.ce junk." He looked at the teleceiver screen.

All ready, Junior was falling away.

"Stand by for full acceleration, hyperdrive," said the big officer in a hoa.r.s.e whisper. "We're heading home!"

CHAPTER 17

The subdued whine of the hyperdrive filled the power deck and made Roger wince as he stepped through the hatch and waved at Astro. He climbed down the ladder and stopped beside the big Venusian who stood stripped to the waist, watching the pressure gauges on the power-deck control board.

"Hiya, Roger," said Astro with a big grin.

"h.e.l.lo, Astro," replied Roger and sat down on a stool near by.

"Excuse me a minute, hot-shot," said Astro. "Gotta check the baffling around reaction tube three." The big cadet hurriedly donned a lead-lined protective suit and entered the reaction chamber. After a moment he reappeared and took off the suit. He poured a gla.s.s of water, handed it to Roger, and poured another for himself.

"Gets pretty hot down here," he said. "I don't like to use the air conditioner when I'm on hyperdrive. Sucks my power output and reduces pressure on the oxygen pumps."

Roger nodded absently at the needlessly detailed explanation. Astro looked at him sharply. "Say, what's eating you?"

"Honestly, Astro," said Roger, "I've never felt more miserable in my life."

"Don't let it get you down, Roger," said Astro. "The major said it was a mistake anyone could make."

"Yeah," flared Roger, "but have you seen the way he just--_talks_?"

"Talks?" asked Astro blankly.

"Yeah, talks," said Roger. "No yelling, or blasting off, or handing out demerits like they were candy. Nothing! Why he hasn't even chewed Alfie out since we left Junior. He just sits in his quarters."

Astro understood now and nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, you're right. I'd rather have him fusing his tubes than the way he is now."

"Tom must feel pretty rotten, too," said Roger. "I haven't seen much of him either."

"Or Alfie," put in Astro. "Neither of them have done anything but work.

I don't think either of them has slept since we left Tara."

"It's all my fault!" said Roger. "I'm nothing but a loudmouthed bag of s.p.a.ce gas--with an asteroid for a head!" He got up and lurched toward the ladder.

"Hey, where you going?" yelled Astro.

"Almost forgot," yelled Roger from the top of the ladder. "I've got to feed our prisoners a meal. And the way I feel, I'd like to shove it down their throats!"

Roger went directly to the galley off the control deck and prepared a hasty meal for Loring and Mason. He piled it on a tray and went below to the brig.

"All right, Loring," he growled, "come and get it!"

"Well, well, well," sneered Loring. "Where's the big Manning spirit? You boys are kinda down since you blew that little operation, huh?"

"Listen, you s.p.a.ce crawler," said Manning coldly, "one more word out of you and I'll bring you out in the pa.s.sageway and pound that head of yours into s.p.a.ce junk!"

"I wish you'd try that, you little squirt!" snarled Loring. "I'd break you in two!"

"O.K., pal," said Roger, "I'm going to give you that chance!" He opened the door to the cell and Loring stepped out. Holding the paralo-ray gun on him, Roger relocked the door. Left inside, Mason stuck his face close to the grille.

"Give it to him, Loring," he hissed. "Take him apart!"

Roger threw the paralo-ray gun in the corner of the pa.s.sageway and faced the heavier s.p.a.ceman. He held his arms loosely at his side, and he balanced on the b.a.l.l.s of his feet. A slight smile played at the corners of his mouth.

"Start breaking, Loring," he said quietly.

"Why, you--" snarled Loring and rushed in. He swung wildly for Roger's head, but the cadet slipped inside the punch and drove a hard right to Loring's mid-section. The prisoner doubled over, staggered back, and slowly straightened up. Roger's lips were drawn tightly in a grimace of cold anger. His eyes were s.h.i.+ning hard and bright. He stepped in quickly and chopped two straight lefts to Loring's jaw, then doubled the s.p.a.ceman up again with a hard right to the heart. Loring gasped and tried to clinch. But Roger threw a straight jolting right to his jaw.

The prisoner slumped to the floor, out cold. The fight was finished.

Roger went over, picked up the paralo-ray gun, and opened the cell door again.

"All right, Mason," he said coldly, "drag him inside. And if you want to try me for size, just say so."

Mason didn't answer. He merely hurried out, and grabbing Loring by the feet, dragged him inside. Roger slammed the door and locked it.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Rubbing his knuckles and feeling better than he had felt for days, he started back to the radar bridge. As he neared Major Connel's quarters, he heard Connel's voice. He stopped and listened outside the door.

"It's a beautiful job of calculation, Tom," Connel was saying. "I don't see how you and Higgins could have done it in so short a time. And without an electronic computer to aid you. Beautiful job--really excellent--but I'm afraid it's too risky."

"I've already talked to Astro and Mr. s.h.i.+nny, sir," said Tom, "and they've volunteered. I haven't spoken to Roger yet, but I'm sure he'd be willing to try."

Roger stepped through the door.

"Whatever it is," said Roger, "I'm ready."

"Eavesdropping on your commanding officer," said Connel, eying the blond-headed cadet speculatively, "is a very serious offense."

"I just happened to hear my name mentioned, sir," replied Roger with a smile.

Connel turned back to Tom. "Go over that again, Tom."

"Well, sir," said Tom, "Junior's falling into the sun at a speed of twenty-two miles a second right now. But we could still land a jet boat on Junior, set up more nuclear explosions to blast him out of the sun's grip, and send him on his way to our solar system. We wouldn't get as much speed as before, but we'd still save the copper."