On the Trail of the Space Pirates - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel On the Trail of the Space Pirates Part 3 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
"Stand by for touchdown!" bellowed Captain Strong's voice on the big s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p's intercom.
"Control deck standing by," replied Tom.
"Corbett," Strong continued, "you may take her down as soon as you get clearance from Venusport traffic control."
Tom acknowledged the order with a brisk "Aye, sir! In a few moments he received permission to touch down on the newly colonized planet. Then, turning his attention to the control board, he requested a ground-approach check from Roger.
"About two miles to touchdown, Tom," reported Roger from the radar bridge. "Trajectory clear!"
"O.K., Roger," said Tom. Glancing quickly at the air speed and rocket thrust indicators, he flipped a switch and sang out, "Power deck, reduce thrust on main drive rockets to minimum!"
"Got ya, Tom," boomed Astro.
"Closing in fast, sir," said Tom to Strong, who had come up from below and now stood at the cadet's shoulder watching as Tom maneuvered the big s.h.i.+p through the Venusian atmosphere, his keen eyes sweeping the great panel of recording gauges and dials.
"One thousand feet to touchdown," intoned Roger from the radar bridge.
Reacting swiftly, Tom adjusted several levers, then picking up the intercom microphone, he threw a switch and yelled, "Power deck! Full braking thrust!"
Deep inside the _Polaris_, Astro, who tended the mighty rocket power plant with loving care, eased home the sensitive control mechanism, applying even pressure to the braking rockets.
As the giant s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p settled smoothly to within a few feet of the surface of the concrete s.p.a.ceport, Tom threw the master switch that cut all power. A moment later the huge craft dropped easily, then settled on the landing platform with a gentle thump.
"Touchdown!" yelled Tom. Then, glancing at the astral chronometer on the control board, he turned to Strong, and saluting smartly, reported, "_Polaris_ completes s.p.a.ce flight at exactly seven fifty-two-O-two!"
Strong returned the salute. "Very well, Tom. Now, I want you, Roger, and Astro to come with me to the exposition commissioner's office for an interview and detailed orders."
"Yes, sir," said Tom.
A few minutes later, dressed in fresh uniforms, the three cadets followed their unit commander out of the s.h.i.+p, then stood by as Strong ordered the chief petty officer of an enlisted Solar Guard working party to prepare the _Polaris_ for moving to the exposition site.
"Empty the reactant fuel tanks of all but enough for us to raise s.h.i.+p and touch down over to the fairgrounds," said Strong. "Better strip her of armament, too. Paralo-ray pistols and rifles, the three-inch and six-inch atomic blasters, narco sleeping gas; in fact, everything that could possibly cause any trouble."
"Yes, sir," replied the scarlet-clad enlisted s.p.a.ceman.
"One thing more," added Strong. "There will be a crew living aboard, so please see that the galley is stocked with a full supply of both fresh and synthetic foods. That's about all, I guess."
"Very well, sir," replied the petty officer with a crisp salute. He turned and began bawling orders to a squad of men behind him and immediately they were swarming over the great s.h.i.+p like ants.
Fifteen minutes later, a jet cab swerved to a stop in front of the tallest of the Venusport buildings, the Solar Alliance Chamber. Strong paid the driver, adding a handsome tip, and flanked by his three cadets strode briskly into the building.
Crossing a high-ceilinged lobby, they entered an express vacuum elevator and five seconds later stepped out onto the four-hundredth floor. There, Strong slid a panel door to one side, and, followed by the cadets, stepped inside the office of Mike Hawks, exposition commissioner and retired senior officer of the Solar Guard.
The office was impressively large and airy, with an outside wall forming a viewport of clear t.i.tan crystal reaching from floor to vaulted ceiling and affording a magnificent view of the city of Venusport and, beyond it, the futuristic buildings of the exposition itself. Another wall, equally as large, was covered by a map of the exposition grounds.
Mike Hawks, a man with steel-gray hair, clear blue eyes, and a ramrod military bearing, sat behind a ma.s.sive desk talking to two men. He looked up when Strong and the cadets walked in and rose quickly with a broad smile to greet them.
"Steve!" he exclaimed, rounding the desk to shake hands with his old friend. "I never dreamed we'd have you and the _Polaris_ unit at our fair!" He nodded warmly to the cadets who stood at rigid attention. "At ease, cadets. Glad to have you aboard."
"I was just as surprised to get this a.s.signment, Mike," said Strong, pumping the officer's hand. Nodding toward the men seated in front of Hawks' desk, he apologized, "Sorry to bust in on you like this, old man.
Didn't know you were busy."
"It's quite all right." The commissioner smiled. "Just handing out a few licenses for the concessions in the amus.e.m.e.nt section at the fair.
People expect to have a little fun when they go to a fair, you know. By the stars, they're going to have it so long as I'm commissioner." He turned to the cadets. "Sit down, boys. You too, Steve. I'll be with you in a minute." He turned back to his desk and the waiting men.
The cadets, at a nod from Strong, sat down on a leather couch that stretched the length of one wall and listened while Hawks completed his business with the two men.
"There you are," said Hawks, applying the seal of his office to a slip of paper. "That gives you the right to operate a concession in the amus.e.m.e.nt area as long as the fair is open."
One of the men took the paper and glanced at it quickly.
"Wait a minute, Commissioner. This is over near the edge of the area,"
he complained. "We wanted to get in the middle. How do you expect us to make any credits away out there by ourselves?" The man's tone was surly and disrespectful.
"Sorry, but that's the only location left. In fact," Hawks added acidly, "you're lucky to get it!"
"Really?" sneered the heavier of the two. "Well, I'm sure going to find out about this!"
Hawks stood up and eyed the two men coldly. "I've been appointed commissioner of this exposition by the delegates to the Solar Alliance Council. I answer only to the council. If you have a complaint, then you must present your case before that body." He cleared his throat and glared at them from behind his desk. "Good day, gentlemen!" he said.
[Ill.u.s.tration: _Hawks stood up and eyed the two men coldly_]
The two men, who until now had been seated facing the desk, got up, and after glaring at Hawks, turned and walked toward the door. Tom gasped, and grabbing Roger by the arm, involuntarily pointed at the two men.
"Look, Roger--those men--" he whispered.
"Yeah," said Roger. "Those are the wise-guy s.p.a.ce crawlers we met on the monorail, the ones who called us punks!"
"How'd they get here so fast?" asked Astro.
"Must have taken a jetliner from Atom City, I guess."
Strong, who sat near Tom, heard the exchange between the cadets.
"You know those men?" he asked.
"Well--uh--not exactly, sir. We just had a little run-in with them on the monorail returning from leave, that's all," said Tom. "Nothing serious. They don't think much of the Solar Guard, though."
"I gathered as much," said Hawks dryly. He walked over from his desk. "I hated to give them the license to operate, but I had to, since I had no valid reason to turn them down. They have a good idea, too."
"That so? What is it?" asked Strong.
"They have an old chemical-burning s.p.a.ce freighter in which they're going to take fair visitors up for a short ride. You see, the big one, Gus Wallace, is an old deep-s.p.a.ce merchantman. The smaller one is Luther Simms, a rocketman."
"Hm. Not a bad idea at all," mused Strong. "They should make out all right."
With that, the two Solar Guard officers dropped the incident of Wallace and Simms and turned to exchanging news of mutual friends and of what each had been doing since their last meeting. Finally, as the conversation was brought around to the exposition, Hawks got up and sat on the side of the desk, facing Strong and the cadets. His eyes glowed as he spoke.