Part 31 (1/2)
”No time for celebrating,” barked Strong. ”We haven't caught him yet.
He's the slickest thing to hit this system since the reptiles climbed out of the Venusian mud! It's going to be a case of our getting him before he can disappear into the asteroid belt, so let's. .h.i.t the high, wide, and deep!”
Five minutes later, Strong and the boys were aboard their s.h.i.+p.
”Ready to blast off, sir,” reported Tom. The curly-haired cadet's face was still pale and drawn, showing the effects of his ordeal in s.p.a.ce.
”Get me direct teleceiver contact with Captain Randolph on the rocket cruiser _Sirius_,” ordered Strong.
”Yes, sir,” replied Tom. He turned to flip on the teleceiver, and a moment later the captain's face appeared on the screen.
”Randolph here. What's up, Steve?”
”I've got Squadron Nineteen of the Martian reserve fleet heading for the last reported position of the _Avenger_ now, Randy. I'll take the point position of your squadron and direct operations. I'll relay course to you as soon as we're in s.p.a.ce.”
”O.K., Steve,” replied Randolph. ”I'm ready to raise s.h.i.+p.”
”I'll go up first. Form up around me at about five thousand miles. End transmission!”
”End transmission!”
”All right, Tom,” ordered Strong, ”let's get out of here!”
The young cadet strapped himself into his acceleration chair, then picked up the control panel intercom and began calling out orders crisply.
”Stand by to raise s.h.i.+p! All stations check in!”
”Power deck standing by!” replied Astro from below.
”Radar bridge standing by!” acknowledged Roger over the intercom.
”Energize the cooling pumps!”
The whine of the mighty pumps began to fill the s.h.i.+p almost as quickly as Astro acknowledged the order.
”Feed reactant!” snapped Strong, strapping himself in beside Tom.
A low-muted hiss joined the sound of the whining pumps as Tom opened the valves. ”Reactant feeding at D-9 rate, sir,” he reported.
”Roger,” called Strong into the intercom, ”do we have a clear trajectory?”
”Clear as s.p.a.ce, skipper!” was Roger's breezy answer.
”All right, Tom,” said Strong, ”cut in take-off gyros.”
The cadet closed the master switch on the control panel and the noise from the power deck below began to build to an unbearable crescendo!
Watching the sweeping second hand of the chronometer, Tom called out, ”Blast off minus five--four--three--two--one--_zero_!”
With a mighty roar, all main rockets of the s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p exploded into life. Shuddering under the sudden surge of power, the s.h.i.+p rose from the ground, accelerated at the rate of seven miles per second, and arrowed into the sky, s.p.a.ce-borne!