Part 28 (1/2)

”All set, Astro!” shouted Strong. ”Right on course. Now pile on the neutrons!”

”Aye, aye, sir.”

On the power deck, the big cadet turned to his control panel, took a deep breath, and opened the reactant feeders wide. The s.h.i.+p leaped through the airless void under the sudden burst of power and Astro watched the acceleration indicator climb to the danger line. He gulped as the needle pa.s.sed the danger point and was about to cut down speed when the needle stopped. Astro breathed easily and settled back satisfied. If it was up to him, they would reach Tom in record time.

Up on the radar deck, Roger continued to read the flas.h.i.+ng signals on the radar scanner. Over and over, he read the same message.

”I guess that's all he can say, sir,” said Roger, turning to Strong.

”Yes, I guess so, Roger,” agreed Strong. ”He's probably sending it out blind, on an open circuit, hoping that anyone near enough would pick it up. Wonder how he did it?”

Roger thought a moment. ”I'm not sure, sir, but I think he's crossed the impulse on the scanner from positive to negative.”

”How do you mean?” asked Strong. The young captain was well acquainted with the principle of radar but, admittedly, could not match Roger's natural ability.

”By making the impulse negative, sir,” said Roger, ”he could create interference on the scanner. Instead of bouncing against something and returning an image to a scanner, the impulse hits itself and creates static which shows up in the form of those white flashes.”

”Well, in any case,” said Strong with a sober nod toward the scanner, ”he's done something the whole Solar Guard couldn't do. He's quite a boy!”

Roger smiled. ”I'll say he is, skipper!”

Strong turned away and climbed down to the control deck. He sat in front of the great control panel and watched the countless dials and needles.

But his mind wasn't on the delicate handling of the great s.h.i.+p. He was thinking about Tom, alone aboard a s.h.i.+p with a crew of desperate criminals.

Tom had taken his life in his hands to send out the message, that much Strong was sure of! And the young skipper noted with pride that there was no appeal for help in the desperate call.

He shook his head wearily and flipped the teleceiver switch to report to Commander Walters.

”Emergency ... attention....” Tom continued to tap out the message slowly and carefully. Behind him, he could hear Brooks hammering against the locker door. Tom felt like opening the door and freezing the pirate with his paralo-ray gun to keep him quiet, but he didn't dare to stop sending.

Finally Tom decided it was time to go. ”If anyone's going to pick up the message,” he thought, ”they've picked it up by now. I may still have time to get away in a jet boat.”

He tied the wires together, causing a continuous interference to be sent out, and secured the radar casing. ”If I'm lucky enough to get away in a jet boat,” thought Tom, ”at least they won't be able to pick me up on that!”

Without a glance at the locker where Brooks continued to pound and yell, Tom turned to the hatch leading to the pa.s.sageway. He gripped the paralo-ray gun and opened the hatch. Peering into the pa.s.sageway and finding it deserted, he slipped out and closed the hatch behind him.

From below, he could hear the roar of the crew as the last of them received his share of the stolen credits.

Tom raced down the companionway toward the jet-boat deck. He made the first deck safely and was about to climb down to the next when he was spotted by Attardi, the scar-faced s.p.a.ceman, who stood at the bottom of the ladder.

”Hey, Kid!” Attardi shouted. ”The skipper's been looking for ya. You got the biggest cut. Three thousand credits for that fancy shooting you did!”

Tom noticed the gleam of the knife at the man's side. The young cadet could imagine the criminal sinking the knife in his back without hesitation, if he suspected anything.

”Well,” demanded Attardi, ”are you going to collect or not? The skipper sent me to look for you.”

Tom smiled, and while still smiling, whipped the paralo-ray gun into sight and fired. His aim was true. Attardi froze, every nerve in his body paralyzed. He could still breathe and his heart continued to beat, but otherwise, he was a living statue, unable to even blink his eyes.