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

“Never mind the cracks,” said Strong. “We’ve got to find him!”

“Captain,” said the little man with the round face and glasses who had first spoken to Strong when he came aboard, “just because my name happens to be Zewbriski, and I have to be the very last to get on a jet boat, I don’t see why I have to wait any longer. I demand to be taken off this ship immediately! I refuse to risk my life waiting around for some foolish cadet!”

“That foolish cadet, Mr. Zewbriski,” said Strong coldly, “is a human being like you and we don’t budge until we find him!”

At that moment the bell began to ring, indicating that the outer hatch to the air lock was opening.

“By the craters of Luna,” said Tom, “that must be Astro now!”

“But if it is,” said Roger, “how did he get out there?”

From behind them, the hatch to the inner air lock opened and Al James stepped through.

“Captain Strong,” he said excitedly, “you’ve got to come quickly. Some of the crewmen have broken into your arms locker and taken paralo-ray guns. They threaten to leave you here if you don’t return to the ship within five minutes. They’re afraid the Venus might blow up and damage the Polaris at this close range.” The young skipper, his red-brown uniform torn and dirty, looked at the Solar Guard captain with wild-eyed desperation.

“They can’t leave us here,” whimpered Zewbriski. “We’ll all be blown to bits!”

“Shut up!” barked Strong. He turned to Tom and Roger. “I can do one of two things,” he said. “I can order you to return to the Polaris now, with James and myself, or you can volunteer to stay behind and search for Astro.”

Without looking at Roger, Tom answered, “We’ll stay, sir. And we won’t have to search for him. I think I know where he is.”

“Now that I think about it,” replied Strong, “I guess there is only one place he could be.”

“Yes, sir,” said Tom, “down on the power deck trying to save this wagon! Come on, Roger! Let’s get him!”

“What’s the reading on the Geiger counter now?” asked Tom.

Roger looked down at the face of the radioactive measuring device and answered, “She’s been dropping for the last five minutes, Tom. Looks like the mass in number three is cooling off. Fourteen hundred and ten now.”

“That’s not fast enough,” said Astro, straightening up from tightening a nut on the lead baffle. “She’s still plenty hot. That mass should have been dumped out of the rocket exhaust right away. Now the whole tube control box is so hot with radiation, it’d burn you to a crisp if you opened the hatch.”

“Good thing you brought along those tools from the Polaris,” said Tom.

“Yeah, greaseball,” said Roger, “you used your head for once. Now let’s see you use it again and pile out of this hunk of junk!”

“Fifteen hundred on the counter is the danger mark, Roger, and as long as we keep it under that, I’m going to try and save this wagon!” replied Astro.

“Why? To get yourself a Solar Medal?” asked Roger sarcastically.

“What do you think made this tub act up like this, Astro?” asked Tom, ignoring Roger’s remark.

“Using special reactant feed, Tom,” replied Astro. “This is a converted chemical burner⁠—with an old-type cooling pump. It’s touchy stuff.”

“Well, couldn’t we drive boron rods into the mass and slow down the reaction?” asked Tom.

“No, Tom,” answered Astro, “the control for the rods are inside the tube control box. We can’t reach it.”

There was a sudden loud ticking from the Geiger counter.

“Astro!” cried Roger. “The mass is building!”

“Here, lemme see!” shouted Astro. He took the instrument in his big hand and watched the clocklike face intently.

“… fourteen hundred thirty⁠—fourteen hundred fifty⁠—fourteen hundred seventy⁠—” He faced his unit-mates. “Well, that does it. The mass is maintaining a steady reaction without the energizing pumps. It’s sustaining itself!”

“But how is that possible?” asked Tom.

“It’s one of those freaks, Tom. It’s been known to happen before. The fuel is just hot enough to sustain a steady reaction because of its high intensity. Once that baffle worked loose, the mass started wildcatting itself.”

“And if it doesn’t stop?” asked Roger tensely.

“It’ll reach a point where the reaction comes so fast it’ll explode!”

“Let’s pile out of here!” said Roger.

The three boys made a dash for their space suits and the jet boat. Inside the air lock, they adjusted their oxygen valves and waited for pressure to equalize so they could blast off.

“Blast it,” said Astro, “there must be some way to get to that rocket tube and dump that stuff!”

“Impossible, Astro,” said Roger. “The release controls are in the control box, and with all that radiation loose, you wouldn’t last half a minute!”

Tom walked over to the valve that would open the outside hatch.

“Wonder how Captain Strong is making out with those tough babies on the Polaris?” asked Tom.

“I don’t know,” replied Roger, “but anything would be better than sitting around waiting for this thing to blow up!”

“Ah⁠—stop griping,” said Astro, “or I’ll shove you up a rocket tube and blast you from here all the way back to Atom City!”

“Hey, wait a minute!” shouted Tom. “Astro, remember the time we were on the ground crew as extra duty and we had to overhaul the Polaris?”

“Yeah, why?”

“There was one place you couldn’t go. You were too big, so I went in, remember?”

“Yeah, the space between the rocket tubes and the hull of the ship. It was when we were putting in the new tube. So what?”

“So this!” said Tom. “When they converted this tub, they had standard exhausts, so it must have the same layout as the Polaris. Suppose I climb in the main exhaust, between the tube and the outer hull, and cut away the cleats that hold the tube to the ship?”

“Why, then everything would come out in one piece!” Astro’s face lit up. “Reactant mass, tube, control box⁠—the works!”

“Say, what