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"No, Tom!" roared Connel. "There's nothing you can do. We're too far into the sun's pull. You'll never blast off again!"
"I don't care if we all wind up as cinders," said Tom, "I'm coming in!"
The communicator went dead and from the left, over the close horizon of the small satellite, the _Polaris_ swept into view like a red-tailed fire dragon. It shot up in a pretouchdown maneuver, and then began to drop slowly to the surface of the planetoid.
No sooner had the _Polaris_ touched the dry airless ground than the air-lock hatch was opened. From the crystal port on the control deck, Tom waved to the men below him.
Shinny climbed into the lock first, followed by Astro, Alfie, Roger, and Connel. While Roger and Alfie closed the hatch, Astro and Connel adjusted the oxygen pressure and waited for the supply to build to normal. At last the hissing stopped, and the hatch to the inner part of the ship opened. Tom greeted them with a smile and an outstretched hand.
"Glad to have you aboard!" he joked.
After the back slapping between Roger, Astro, and Tom was over, Connel questioned Tom on his strange departure from the satellite.
"It was just like I told you, sir," explained Tom. "They got out of the brig," he paused, not mentioning the spoon that Loring had used or how he had gotten it. "They forced me to take them to Tara. I managed to get the gravity turned off and gave them a lesson in free-fall fighting.
They're still frozen stiff up on the control deck."
"Good boy!" said Connel. "I'll go and have a talk with them. Meantime, Astro, you and Shinny and Alfie get below and see how much fuel we have in emergency supply. We're going to need every ounce we have."
"Aye, aye, sir," said Astro. The three hurried to the power deck.
Connel followed Roger and Tom to the control deck. Loring and Mason were still in the positions they were in when Tom had fired his paralo-ray.
Connel took Tom's gun and switched to the neutralizer. He fired twice and the two men rose shakily to their feet. Connel faced them, his eyes burning.
"I'm going to say very little to you two s.p.a.ce-crawling rats!" snapped Connel. "I'm not going to lock you in the brig; I'm not going to confine you in any manner. But if you make one false move, I'll court-martial you right here and now! You've caused enough trouble with your selfishness, jeopardizing the lives of six men. If we fail to get off this satellite, it'll be because _you_ put us in this position. Now get below and see what aid you can give Astro. And if either of you so much as raises your voice, I'm going to let _him_ take care of you! Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir!" mumbled Loring. "We understand, sir. And we'll do everything we can to--to--make up for what we've done."
"The only thing you can do is to stay out of my sight!" said Connel coldly.
Loring and Mason scuttled past Connel and climbed down to the power deck.
"Attention! Attention! Control deck--Major Connel! Sir, this is Roger on the radar bridge. I just checked over Tom's figures on thrust, sir, and I'm not sure, but I think we've pa.s.sed the point of safety."
"Thanks, Roger," said Connel. He turned to the intercom. "Power deck, check in!"
"Power deck, aye," said Astro.
"Loring and Mason there?" asked Connel.
"Yes, sir. I'm putting them right to work in the radiation chamber, sir.
I'm piling all emergency fuel into the reaction chambers to try for one big push!"
"Why?" asked Connel.
"I heard what Roger said, sir," replied Astro. "This'll give us enough thrust to clear the sun's gravity, but there's something else that might not take it."
"What?" asked Connel.
"The cooling pumps, sir," said Astro. "They may not be able to handle a load as hot as this. We might blow up."
Connel considered this a moment. "Do what you can, Astro. I have absolute faith in you."
"Aye, aye, sir," said Astro. "And thank you. If this wagon holds together, I'll get her off."
Connel turned to Tom who stood ready at the control panel.
"All set, sir," said Tom. "Roger's given me a clear trajectory forward and up. All we need is Astro's push!"
"Unless Astro can build enough pressure in those cooling pumps to handle the overload of reactant fuel, we're done for. We'll get off this moon in pieces!"
"Power deck to control deck."
"Come in, Astro," said Tom.
"Almost ready, Tom," said Astro. "Maximum pressure is eight hundred and we're up to seven seventy now."
"Very well, Astro," replied Connel. "Let her build all the way to an even eight hundred and blast at my command."
"Aye, aye, sir," said Astro.
The mighty pumps on the power deck began their piercing shriek. Higher and higher they built up the pressure, until the ship began to rock under the strain.
"Stand by, Tom," ordered Connel, "and if you've ever twisted those dials, twist them now!"
"Yes, sir," replied Tom.
"Pressure up to seven ninety-one, sir," reported Astro.
"Attention! All members strap into acceleration cushions!"
One by one, Shinny and Alfie, Loring and Mason, Astro and Roger strapped themselves into the acceleration cushions. Roger set the radar scanner and strapped himself in on the radar bridge. Connel slumped into the second pilot's chair and took over the controls of the ship, strapping himself in, while Tom beside him did the same. The whine of the pumps was now a shrill whistle that drowned out all other sounds, and the great ship bucked under the force of the thrust building in her heart.
In front of the power-deck control panel Astro watched the pressure gauge mount steadily.
"Pressure up to seven ninety-six, sir," he called.
"Stand by to fire all rockets!" roared Connel.
"Make it good, you Venusian clunk," yelled Roger.
"Seven ninety-nine, sir!" bellowed Astro.
Astro watched the gauge of the pressure creep slowly toward the eight-hundred mark. In all his experience he had never seen it above seven hundred. Shinny, too, his merry eyes shining bright, watched the needle jerk back and forth and finally reach the eight-hundred mark.
"Eight hundred, sir," bellowed Astro.
"Fire all stern rockets!" roared Connel.
Astro threw the switch. On the control board, Connel saw a red light flash on. He jammed the master switch down hard.