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and Mason with Shinny, he eyed them warily.

"Hiya, kid!" greeted Loring. "Glad to see you took my advice and got away from 'Blast-off' Connel." Mason waved a salute, and the three men sat down.

Roger ignored Loring and Mason, speaking directly to Shinny. "Did you complete our deal?" he asked softly.

"Nope," answered Shinny. "I brought you another one instead."

Roger held out his hand. "My one hundred credits—now!"

"Never mind the credits, kid," said Loring, "we've got more important things to talk about."

Roger continued to look at Shinny, his palm outstretched on the top of the table. "One hundred credits," he repeated coldly.

Reluctantly, Shinny handed over the money. Slowly, carefully, Roger counted the bills, and then, after putting them away, he turned to face Loring for the first time.

"You said you have something important to discuss with me?" he drawled.

"I see you learned fast, kid!" said Loring with a crooked smile. "I wouldn't trust Shinny as far as I could throw a comet!"

Mason laughed loudly. The other three merely glared at him, and he stopped abruptly.

"Here's the proposition, Manning," said Loring, leaning across the table. "I've gotta ship and I wanta make a hop into deep space. I want you to do the astrogation!"

"I'm interested," said Roger. "Keep talking."

Briefly Loring described the copper satellite, its potential value, and what they expected to get out of it. Roger listened without comment. When Loring had finished, Shinny told him about the ship and its condition. When Shinny finished, Loring turned to Roger.

"Well, Manning," he asked, "how do you like the setup?"

"How much do I get out of it?" asked Roger.

"One twentieth of the take," said Loring.

"There are four of us. One full quarter-share, nothing less," drawled Roger.

"One-fourth to Shinny and one-fourth to him," whined Mason. "That only leaves us a fourth apiece!"

"That's more than you've got now," snapped Loring. "All right, Manning, you're in!"

Roger smiled for the first time. "When do we blast off?"

"As soon as we get that space wagon in shape we hit the deep!" said Loring.

"I think I need a drink on that," said Shinny. He yelled for the bartender, who brought rocket juice and Martian fizz.

Roger picked up the glass of the sweet water and glanced around the table.

"What's the name of that space wagon you've got buried in the jungles, Mr. Shinny?"

"Ain't got no name," said Shinny.

Roger paused, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Then I propose we name her after the hearts of each of us here at the table."

"What's that?" asked Loring.

"Space Devil," said Roger.

Shinny grinned, his frail body trembling slightly from his silent laughter. He held up the glass of rocket juice.

"I propose a toast to the Space Devil!"

"To the Space Devil," said the others together.

"And whatever trouble she brings," added Roger softly.

Spaceman in foreground, rocket in background

CHAPTER 11

"Cadet Higgins!" Major Connel's voice roared over the ship's intercom as the giant rocket cruiser Polaris blasted smoothly through space.

"Yes, sir," squeaked Alfie in reply.

"Cadet Higgins," said Connel, "I thought I had requested a sight on the sun star Regulus at fifteen hundred hours!"

"You did, sir," replied Alfie.

"Then why, by the craters of Luna, don't I have that position?"

"I was—busy, sir," came the meek reply.

"Cadet Higgins," sighed Connel patiently, "would you be so kind as to come down to the control deck?"

In the short space of time since their departure from the space station Major Connel had learned that to scold Cadet Higgins was not the way to gain his attention. In fact, Major Connel had not been able to find a way of getting the little cadet's attention in any manner, at any time, on anything.

"I can't right now, sir," replied Alfie.

"What do you mean, you can't?" exploded Connel.

"I mean, sir," explained Alfie, "that I've just sighted Tara and I have to get a position check on her before we go any farther, to ensure that we traverse the same trajectory on our return trip and thus avoid the problem of finding a new and safe route back."

"Cadet Alfie Higgins"—Connel's voice climbed to a frenzied shriek—"if you are not on this control deck in ten seconds, I'll personally see that you are fed to a dinosaur when we touch down on Tara and you'll never return. Now get down here!"

Tom and Astro, who could hear the conversation over the intercom, were finding it very difficult to keep from laughing out loud at the innocence of Alfie and the outraged wrath of Major Connel.

Tom, particularly, had discovered that Alfie's innocent refusal to be bullied by Connel had made the time pass more quickly on the long haul through deep space. More than once he had seen Major Connel rage against the underweight cadet and become even more frustrated at his childlike resistance. It had helped Tom forget the empty feeling he experienced every time he called the radar deck and heard Alfie's mild voice instead of Roger's usual mocking answer. Astro, too, had managed to forget the loneliness he felt aboard the great cruiser by watching the antics of Alfie and Major Connel. More than once he had instigated situations where Alfie would get caught red-handed in a harmless error, and then he lay flat on the power deck, laughing until his sides ached, as he listened to Alfie and Major Connel over the intercom.

It had helped. Both Tom and Astro admitted it had helped, but it still didn't take away the dull ache each felt when an occasional remark, situation, or thought would bring Roger to mind.

Tom flipped the teleceiver on and waited for the blank screen to show him Tara. Connel stood to one side, also watching for the image of the planet to take form on the gray-black screen. A hatch clanked behind them, and Alfie stepped into the control deck to snap to his version of attention.

"Cadet Higgins reporting, sir," he said quietly.

Connel stepped in front of him, placed his hands on his hips, and bent slightly, pushing his face almost into Alfie's.

"Cadet Higgins, I want you to know I have taken all the blasted space-brained antics I'm going to take from you," said Connel quietly.

"Yes, sir," replied Alfie blandly.

"And," said Connel, shaking a finger in Alfie's face, "and if there is one more—just one more brazen, flagrant disregard of my specific orders, then, Cadet Higgins, I promise you the most miserable trip back to Earth you will ever know in your entire career! I promise you I'll make you sweat! I'll—I'll—" Connel stopped short and shuddered. Alfie's owl-eyed look of innocence seemed to unnerve him. He tried to resume his tirade, but the words failed him. He finally turned away, growling, "Higgins, get up on that radar deck and do as you're told, when you're told to do it and not when you want to do it! Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," said Alfie meekly. He saluted and returned to the radar deck.

"Corbett!" snapped Connel. "If I should appear to be losing control of myself when addressing Cadet Higgins, you have my official permission to restrain me. Use force if necessary!"

Tom bit his lip to keep from laughing and managed to mumble "Yes, sir." He turned quickly to the control board and began focusing on the planet lying dead ahead of the decelerating spaceship. They had been slowing down for several days, since their speed with the added hyperdrive had been increased greatly. The young cadet adjusted the last dial and the blue-green planet sprang into clear sharp focus on the screen.

"Why," gasped Tom. "Sir, look! It's just like Earth!"

"In more ways than one, Corbett," replied Connel. "What's our range?"

"I'd say we're close enough to reduce thrust to a quarter regular space speed, sir."

"Very well," said Connel. "Now look to the right on the screen. See that small dark patch over there in the middle of the planet?"

"Yes, sir," replied Tom.

"That's where we want to touch down," said Connel. "You stay here on the control deck and maneuver the ship closer in while I go to the radar deck and contact Space Academy on the transmitter. I've got to report that we expect to land soon."

"Very well, sir," said Tom. He turned and flipped the intercom switch. "Control deck to power deck," he said. "Check in, Astro."

"Power deck here," replied Astro. "What's up, Tom?"

"We just got our first good look at Tara. She's dead ahead. Major Connel's going to contact Space Academy, and I'm going to maneuver into our preliminary glide. Stand by for course changes."

"Make it an easy touchdown. I wanta get home, you know," replied Astro good-naturedly.

"O.K.," said Tom. "Better bring her down to one-quarter space speed."

"Hyper or regular?" asked Astro.

"Regular!" yelled Tom. "You give me a quarter on hyper and we'll go right through that planet!"

"One-quarter regular space speed," replied Astro.

Tom adjusted his controls for the speed reduction, while keeping his eyes on the teleceiver screen. He watched the planet grow larger before his eyes, and the terrain become more distinct. He could see two large oceans, the green-blue of the water reflecting the sunlight of Alpha Centauri brilliantly. Nearer and nearer the Polaris plummeted, and Tom could begin to distinguish the rough outline of mountain ranges along the horizon line. He switched to a larger view of the planet on the magnascope that revealed a splendor rivaling the beauty of his own cherished Earth.

"We'll be entering the atmosphere in a minute, Alfie," yelled Tom into the intercom. "Stand by to give range for touchdown."

"Radar deck, aye," reported Alfie. "Range at present five hundred miles."

"Power deck, check in!" yelled Tom.

"Power deck, aye," returned Astro.

"All set below?" asked Tom.

"All set," said Astro.

"Reduce thrust to minimum!" shouted Tom.

Deep inside the powerful ship, the roar of the mighty atomic rocket motors began to fade to a deep growling purr.

"Control deck to radar deck. Major Connel, sir?"

"What is it, Corbett?" asked Connel.

"We're ready for a touchdown. Do you want to take over the bridge?"

"Can't you do it, Corbett?" asked Connel.

"Yes, sir!" replied Tom.

"Then carry on," replied Connel. "I'm having some trouble trying to get through to the Academy on the transmitter. Can't understand it." There was a pause. "I have them now, Corbett! You carry on!" he shouted.

"Aye, aye, sir," said Tom. He turned his attention to the control panel, checking the many dials and gauges with one sweeping glance, and then concentrated on bringing the ship to a safe landing on the foreign planet. His fingers tingled as he reached for the switches that would bring the ship down on the first intergalactic world he had ever visited. In a flash, the curly-haired cadet remembered childhood dreams of doing just what he was doing at this moment, preparing to touch down on a new world, millions of miles away from his home near New Chicago.

"Range one hundred miles," reported Alfie over the intercom.

"Power deck, reduce thrust to absolute minimum!" ordered Tom. "I want as little sustaining power as you can give me without cutting out altogether, Astro."

"Can do!" said Astro. The ship slowed even more, then suddenly picked up speed again as the gravity of Tara began to tug at the space traveler.

"Stand by to fire braking rockets!" yelled Tom. He was all nerves now, sensitive to the throbbing of the great ship's motors, eyes fastened to the dials and meters on the control panel. There was no time to watch the scanner view of the onrushing planet now. He had to touch down blindly, using only his instruments. "Radar bridge, report!" snapped Tom.

"Range one thousand feet," reported Alfie, his calm voice in striking contrast to the nervous excitement in Tom's. "Seven hundred fifty—six hundred—five fifty—"

"Fire braking rockets!" rasped Tom into the intercom.

The great ship bucked under the sudden thrust of the huge braking rockets. The Polaris held steady for a moment, then gradually, as the pull of Tara began again, she settled back toward the dark-green jungles beneath her.

"Two

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