Stand by for Mars! by Carey Rockwell (the top 100 crime novels of all time .TXT) 📖
- Author: Carey Rockwell
- Performer: 1598186337
Book online «Stand by for Mars! by Carey Rockwell (the top 100 crime novels of all time .TXT) 📖». Author Carey Rockwell
"Get me a course to Mars, Roger," said Tom. "Astro, stand by to blast off with as much speed as you can safely get out of this old wagon, and stand by for Mars!"
The two cadets quickly reported their departments ready, and following the course Roger plotted, Astro soon had the Lady Venus blasting through space, heading for Mars!
Mars, fourth planet in order from the Sun, loomed like a giant red gem against a perfect backdrop of deep-black space. The Lady Venus, rocketing through the inky blackness, a dull red glow from her three remaining rockets, blasted steadily ahead to the planet that was crisscrossed with wide spacious canals.
"Last time I was on Mars," said Astro to Tom and Roger over a cup of tea, "was about two years ago. I was bucking rockets on an old tub called the Space Plunger. It was on a shuttle run from the Martian south pole to Venusport, hauling vegetables. What a life! Burning up on Venus and then freezing half to death at the south pole on Mars." Astro shook his head as the vivid memory took him back for a moment.
"From what I hear," said Tom, "there isn't much to see but the few cities, the mountains, the deserts and the canals."
"Yeah," commented Roger, "big deal! Rocket into the wild depths of space and see the greatest hunk of wasteland in the universe!"
The three boys were silent, listening to the steady hum of the rockets, driving them forward toward Mars. For four days they had traveled on the Lady Venus, enjoying the many luxuries found on the passenger ship. Now, with their destination only a few hours away, they were having a light snack before making a touchdown on Mars.
"You know," said Tom quietly, "I've been thinking. As far back as the twentieth century, Earthmen have wanted to get to Mars. And finally they did. And what have they found? Nothing but a planet full of dry sand, a few canals and dwarf mountains."
"That's exactly what I've been saying!" said Roger. "The only man who ever got anything out of all this was the first man to make it to Mars and return. He got the name, the glory, and a paragraph in a history book! And after that, nothing!" He got up and climbed the ladder to the radar deck, leaving Astro and Tom alone.
Suddenly the ship lurched to one side.
"What's that?" cried Tom.
A bell began to ring. Then another—and then three more. Finally the entire ship was vibrating with the clanging of emergency bells.
Astro made a diving leap for the ladder leading down to the power deck, with Tom lunging for the control board.
Quickly Tom glanced about the huge board with its many different gauges and dials, searching for the one that would indicate the trouble. His eye spotted a huge gauge. A small light beside it flashed off and on. "By the moons of Jupiter, we've run out of reactant fuel!"
"Tom!—Tom!" shouted Astro from the power deck. "We're smack out of reactant feed!"
"Isn't there any left at all?" asked Tom. "Not even enough to get us into Marsopolis?"
"We haven't enough left to keep the generator going!" said Astro. "Everything, including the lights and the teleceiver, will go any minute!"
"Then we can't change course!"
"Right," drawled Roger. "And if we can't change course, the one we're on now will take us straight into Mars's gravity and we crash!"
"Send out an emergency call right away, Roger," said Tom.
"Can't, spaceboy," replied Roger in his lazy drawl. "Not enough juice to call for help. Or haven't you noticed you're standing in the dark?"
"But how—how could this happen?" asked Tom, puzzled. "We were only going at half speed and using just three rockets!"
"When we got rid of that hot tube back in space," explained Astro grimly, "we dumped the main reactant mass. There isn't a thing we can do!"
"We've got one choice," said Tom hollowly. "We can either pile out now, in space suits and use the jet boat, and hope for someone to pick us up before the oxygen gives out, or we can ride this space wagon right on in. Make up your minds quick, we're already inside Mars's gravity pull!"
There was a pause, then Astro's voice filled the control deck. "I'll ride this baby right to the bottom. If I'm going to splash in, I'll take it on solid ground, even if it is Mars and not Venus. I don't want to wash out in space!"
"That goes for me, too," said Roger.
"O.K.," said Tom. "Here we go. Just keep your fingers crossed that we hit the desert instead of the mountains, or we'll be smeared across those rocks like applesauce. Spaceman's luck, fellas!"
"Spaceman's luck, both of you," said Astro.
"Just plain ordinary luck," commented Roger, "and plenty of it!"
The three boys quickly strapped themselves into acceleration seats, with Tom hooking up an emergency relay switch that he could hold in his hand. He hoped he would remain conscious long enough to throw the switch and start the water sprinkler in case the ship caught fire.
The Lady Venus flashed into the thin atmosphere from the void of space and the three cadets imagined that they could hear the shriek of the ship as it cut through the thin air. Tom figured his speed rapidly, and counting on the thinness of the atmosphere, he estimated that it would take eleven seconds for the ship to crash. He began to count.
" ... One—two—three—four—five—" he thought briefly of his family and how nice they had been to him " ... six—seven—eight—nine—ten—"
The ship crashed.
"Astro! Roger!" yelled Tom. He opened his eyes and then felt the weight on his chest. A section of the control board had fallen across him pinning his left arm to his side. He reached for the railing around the acceleration chair with his right and discovered he still held the switch for the water sprinkler. He started to flip it on, then sniffed the air, and smelling no trace of smoke, dropped the switch. He unstrapped himself from the acceleration chair with his right hand and then slowly, with great effort, pushed the section of the control board off him. He stood up rubbing his left arm.
"Astro? Roger?!" he called again, and scrambled over the broken equipment that was strewn over the deck. He stumbled over more rubble that was once a precision instrument panel and climbed the ladder leading to the radar deck.
"Roger!" he yelled. "Roger, are you all right?" He pushed several shattered instruments out of the way and looked around the shambles that once had been a room. He didn't see Roger.
He began to scramble through the litter on the deck, kicking aside instruments that were nearly priceless, so delicately were they made. Suddenly a wave of cold fear gripped him and he began tearing through the rubble desperately. From beneath a heavy tube casing, he could see the outstretched arm of Roger.
He squatted down, bending his legs and keeping his back straight. Then gripping the heavy casing on one side, he tried to stand up. It was too much for him. He lifted it three inches and then had to let go.
"Tom! Roger!" Tom heard the bull-like roar of Astro below him and stumbled over to the head of the ladder.
"Up here, Astro," he yelled, "on the radar deck. Roger's pinned under the radar scanner casing!"
Tom turned back to the casing, and looking around the littered deck desperately, grabbed an eight-foot length of steel pipe that had been snapped off like a twig by the force of the crash.
Barely able to lift it, he shoved it with all his strength to get the end of the pipe beneath the casing.
"Here, let me get at that thing," growled Astro from behind. Tom stepped back, half falling out of the Venusian's way, and watched as Astro got down on his hands and knees, putting his shoulder against the case. He lifted it about three inches, then slowly, still balancing the weight on his shoulder, shifted his position, braced it with his hands and began to straighten up. The casing came up from the floor as the huge cadet strained against it.
"All—right—Tom—" he gasped, "see if you can get a hold on Roger and pull him out!"
Tom scrambled back and grabbed Roger's uniform. He pulled, and slowly the cadet's form slid from beneath the casing.
"All right, Astro," said Tom, "I've got 'im."
Astro began to lower the casing in the same manner in which he had lifted it. He eased it back down to the floor on his knees and dropped it the last few inches. He sat on the floor beside it and hung his head between his knees.
"Are you all right, Astro?" asked Tom.
"Never mind me," panted Astro between deep gasps for breath, "just see if hot-shot is O.K."
Tom quickly ran his hands up and down Roger's arms and legs, his chest, collarbone and at last, with gently probing fingers, his head.
"No broken bones," he said, still looking at Roger, "but I don't know about internal injuries."
"He wasn't pinned under that thing," said Astro at last. "It was resting on a beam. No weight was on him."
"Uh—huh—ahhh—uhhhh," moaned Roger.
"Roger," said Tom gently, "Roger, are you all right?"
"Uh—huh?—Ohhhh! My head!"
"Take it easy, hot-shot," said Astro, "that head of yours is O.K. Nothing—but nothing could hurt it!"
"Ooohhhh!" groaned Roger, sitting up. "I don't know which is worse, feeling the way I do, or waking up and listening to you again!"
Tom sat back with a smile. Roger's remark clinched it. No one was hurt.
"Well," said Astro at last, "where do we go from here?"
"First thing I suggest we do is take a survey and see what's left," said Tom.
"I came up from the power deck," said Astro, "all the way through the ship. You see this radar deck?" He made a sweeping gesture around the room that looked like a junk heap. "Well, it's in good shape, compared to the rest of the ship. The power deck has the rocket motors where the master panel should be and the panel is ready to go into what's left of the reactant chamber. The jet boat is nothing but a worthless piece of junk!"
The three boys considered the fate of the jet boat soberly. Finally Astro broke the silence with a question. "Where do you think we are?"
"Somewhere in the New Sahara desert," answered Tom. "I had the chart projector on just before we splashed in, but I can't tell you any more than that."
"Well, at least we have plenty of water," sighed Roger.
"You had plenty of water. The tanks were smashed when we came in. Not even a puddle left in a corner."
"Of course it might rain," said Roger.
Tom gave a short laugh. "The last time it rained in this place dinosaurs were roaming around on Earth!"
"How about food?" asked Roger.
"Plenty of that," answered Astro. "This is a passenger ship, remember! They have everything you could ask for, including smoked Venusian fatfish!"
"Then let's get out of here and take a look," said Tom.
The three bruised but otherwise healthy cadets climbed slowly down to the control deck and headed for the galley, where Tom found six plastic containers of Martian water.
"Spaceman, this is the biggest hunk of luck we've had in the last two hours," said Roger, taking one of the containers.
"Why two hours, Roger?" asked Astro, puzzled.
"Two hours ago we were still in space expecting to splash in," said Tom. He opened one of the containers and offered it to Astro. "Take it easy, Astro," said Tom. "Unless we find something else to drink, this might have to last a long time."
"Yeah," said Roger, "a long time. I've been thinking about our chances of getting out
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