Stand by for Mars! - Carey Rockwell (reading in the dark txt) 📗

“Er⁠—no, sir,” answered Astro, his face clouding over.

There was a long moment of silence while Strong lifted one knee, swung it over the arm of his chair, and looked steadily at the two half-naked boys in front of him. He smiled lazily.

“Well, for two Earthworms, you’ve certainly been acting like a couple of space aces!”

He let that soak in while he toyed with the gleaming Academy ring on his finger. He allowed it to flash in the light of the window port, then slipped it off and flipped it over to Corbett.

“Know what that is?” he asked the curly-haired cadet.

“Yes, sir,” replied Tom. “Your Academy graduation ring.”

“Uh-huh. Now give it to our friend from Venus.” Tom gingerly handed Astro the ring.

“Try it on, Astro,” invited Strong.

The big cadet tried it on all of his fingers but couldn’t get it past the first joint.

“Give it to Manning.”

Roger accepted the ring and held it in the palm of his hand. He looked at it with a hard stare, then dropped it in the outstretched hand of the Solar Guard officer. Replacing it on his finger, Strong spoke casually.

“All units design their own rings. There are only three like this in the universe. One is drifting around in space on the finger of Sam Jones. Another is blasting a trail to the stars on the finger of Addy Garcia.” He held up his finger. “This is the third one.”

Strong got up and began to pace in front of the boys.

“Addy Garcia couldn’t speak a word of English when he first came to the Academy. And for eight weeks Sam and I sweated to figure out what he was talking about. I think we spent over a hundred hours in the galley doing K.P. because Addy kept getting us fouled up. But that didn’t bother us because we were a unit. Unit 33-V. Class of 2338.”

Strong turned to face the silent cadets.

“Sam Jones was pretty much like you, Astro. Not as big, but with the same love for that power deck. He could always squeeze a few extra pounds of thrust out of those rockets. What he knew about astrogation and control, you could stick on the head of a pin. On long flights he wouldn’t even come up to the control deck. He just sat in the power hole singing loud corny songs about the Arkansas mountains to those atomic motors. He was a real power-deck man. But he was a unit man first! The only reason I’m here to tell you about it is because he never forgot the unit. He died saving Addy and myself.”

The room was still. Down the long hall, the lively chatter of other cadets could be heard as they showered and prepared for dinner. In the distance, the rumble of the slidewalks and test firing of rockets at the spaceport was dim, subdued, powerful.

“The unit is the backbone of the Academy,” continued Strong. “It was set up to develop three men to handle a Solar Guard rocket cruiser. Three men who could be taught to think, feel and act as one intelligent brain. Three men who would respect each other and who could depend on each other. Tomorrow you begin your real education. You will be supervised and instructed personally.

“Many men have contributed to the knowledge that will be placed in front of you⁠—brave, intelligent men, who blasted through the atmosphere with a piece of metal under them for a spaceship and a fire in their tail for rockets. But everything they accomplished goes to waste if the unit can’t become a single personality. It must be a single personality, or it doesn’t exist. The unit is the ultimate of hundreds of years of research and progress. But you have to fight to create it and keep it living. Either you want it, or you get out of the Academy!”

Captain Strong turned away momentarily and Tom and Astro looked at Roger significantly.

“Stand to!”

The three boys snapped to attention as the wide-shouldered captain addressed them again.

“Tomorrow you begin to learn how to think as a single brain. To act with combined intelligence as one person. You either make up your minds to start tomorrow or you report to Commander Walters and resign. There isn’t any room here for individuals.”

He stepped to the door and paused.

“One more thing. I’ve been given the job of making you over into spacemen. I’m your unit commander. If you’re still here in the morning, I’ll accept that as your answer. If you think you can’t take”⁠—he paused⁠—“what I’m going to dish out, then you know what you can do. And if you stay, you’ll be the best unit, or I’ll break you in two in the attempt. Unit dis⁠ ⁠… missed!” And he was gone.

The three cadets stood still, not knowing quite what to do or say. Finally Tom stepped before Astro and Roger.

“Well,” he said quietly, “how about it, you guys? Are you going to lay off each other now?”

Astro flushed, but Roger eyed Corbett coolly.

“Were you really taken in with that space gas, Tom?” He turned to the shower room. “If you were, then you’re more childish than I thought.”

“A man died to save another man’s life, Roger. Sam Jones. I never knew him. But I’ve met Captain Strong, and I believe that he would have done the same thing for Jones.”

“Very noble,” commented Roger from the doorway.

“But I’ll tell you this, Manning,” said Tom, following him, fighting for self-control, “I wouldn’t want to have to depend on you to save my life. And I wouldn’t want to be faced with the situation where I would have to sacrifice mine to save yours!”

Roger turned and glared at Tom.

“The Academy regs say that the man on the control deck is the boss of the unit. But I have my private opinion of the man who has that job now!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Tom.

“Just this, spaceboy. There’s a gym below where I’ll take you or your big friend on⁠—together⁠—or