Danger in Deep Space Part 33

By this time, Astro and Shinny had joined the group and were standing outside the door in the pa.s.sageway, listening silently.

Connel tugged at his chin. "Let's see," he said, "if we could get back to Tara in three days ..." He looked up at Astro. "Do you think you could get us back in three days, Astro?"

"Major Connel, for another crack at Junior," roared the big Venusian, "I'd get you back in a day and a half!"

"All right," said Connel. "That's one problem. But there are others."

"What, sir?" asked Tom.

"We have to prepare reactant fuses and we have to build new reactor units. If we could do that--"

"If Astro can get us back," said Shinny, "and Roger and this smart young feller here, Alfie, can make up some fuses, I'll build them there units. After all, Astro showed me how once. I guess I can follow his orders!"

"Good!" said Connel. "Now there is the element of time. How much time would we need on Junior?" He looked at Tom.

"Let me answer this way, sir," said Tom. "We'd only have two hours to plant the reaction charges and trigger them, but that should be enough."

"Why so close, Tom?" asked Roger.

"It has to be," answered Tom. "We know what the pull of the sun is, and the power of the jet boat. When the sun's pull becomes greater than the escape speed of the jet boat, the boat would never clear. It would keep falling into the sun. I've based this figure on reaching Junior at the last possible moment."

"It'd take at least five men to set up the five explosions we need,"

mused Connel. "That means one of us will have to stay on the _Polaris_."

There was an immediate and loud chorus of "Not me!" from everyone.

"All right," said Connel, "we'll draw numbers. One, two, three, four, five, and six. The man who draws number six will stay with the _Polaris_. All right?"

"Yes, sir," said Tom, glancing around. "We agree to that."

Connel went to his desk and wrote quickly on six slips of paper. He folded each one, dumped them in his cap, and offered it to Astro.

"All right, Astro," said Connel, "draw!"

Astro licked his lips and stuck in his big paw. The Venusian fingered several, then pulled out a slip of paper. He opened it and read aloud.

"Number two! I go!" He turned and grinned at the others.

Connel offered his cap to Alfie. Alfie dipped in two fingers and pulled out a slip. "Number four! I go!" he squealed.

Roger and Shinny drew numbers one and three. Tom looked at the major.

"Go ahead, Corbett," said Connel.

"After you, sir," said Tom.

"I said draw one!" roared Connel.

"Yes, sir," said Tom. He reached in and quickly pulled out one of the two remaining slips.

"Number six," he said quietly. "I stay."

Connel, not bothering to open the last one, slapped the hat on his head and turned away.

"But, sir," said Tom, "I--ah--"

Connel cut him off with a wave of his hands. "No _buts_!" He turned to the others. "Manning, Higgins! Get me a course back to Junior and make it clean and straight. Astro, Shinny, stand by on the power deck for course change. Tom, get on the control deck. We're going back to s.n.a.t.c.h a hot copper filling right out of a sun's teeth!"

Once again the energy of the six s.p.a.cemen was burned in twenty-four hour stretches of improvisation and detailed calculations. Roger and Alfie redesigned the fuse to ensure perfect co-ordination of the explosions.

Astro and Shinny surpa.s.sed their previous efforts by putting enough power in the five small reaction units to more than do the job required.

Tom, standing long watches on the control deck, devoted his spare time to the torturous equations that would mean failure or success to the whole project. And Major Connel, alert and alive once more, drove his crew toward greater goals than it had achieved before.

Nearly three days later, the _Polaris_ appeared over the twin oceans of Tara and glided into an orbit just beyond the pull of the planet's gravity. Aboard the s.p.a.ceship, last-minute preparations were made by the red-eyed s.p.a.cemen.

In constant contact with s.p.a.ce Academy, using the resources of the Academy's scientific staff to check the more difficult calculations, the six men on the _Polaris_ worked on.

Connel appeared on the radar bridge and flipped on the long-range scanner.

"Have to find out where Junior is," he said to Roger and Alfie.

"That doesn't work, sir," said Roger.

"What do you mean it doesn't work?" exploded Connel.

"Junior's falling into the sun, sir. The radiations are blocking it out from our present position."

"Couldn't we move to another position?" asked the officer.

"Yes, sir," said Roger, "we could. But to do that would take extra time, and we haven't got it."

"Then how are you going to find Junior?" asked Connel.

"Alfie's busy with a special scanner, sir, one that's especially sensitive to copper. Since the sun is composed mostly of gas, with this filter only Junior will show up on the screen."

"By the rings of Saturn," exclaimed Connel, "you mean to tell me that Alfie Higgins is building a new radar scanner, just like that?"

"Why, yes, sir," answered Roger innocently. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"No--no--" said Connel, backing off the bridge. "Just--just go right on.

You're doing fine! Yessirree, fine!" He literally ran from the bridge.

"Most humorous of you, Manning," said Alfie, smiling.

"I'll tell you something funnier than that," said Roger. "I feel the same way he does. Is there anything you _can't_ do, Alfie?"

Alfie thought a moment. "Yes, there is," he said at last.

"What?" demanded Roger.