Stand by for Mars!, Carey Rockwell [early readers .TXT] 📗

them again. He turned to the door and slowly walked out.

“Go blow your jets,” his voice drifted back to Tom as he disappeared.

Tom stood there, looking at the empty door, almost blind with rage and frustration. He was failing in the main job assigned to him, that of keeping the unit on an even keel and working together. How could he command a crew out in space if he couldn’t keep the friction of his own unit under control?

Slowly, he left the room to wait for Astro in the recreation hall where the results of the manuals would be announced. He thought of Astro, now probably deep in his exam, and wondered how bad it would be for him. Then another thought crossed his mind. Roger had said nothing of his own test and neither he nor Astro had even inquired.

He shook his head. No matter where the unit placed in the manuals, it just couldn’t stay together.

VII

It was customary for all Earthworm cadets to gather in the main recreation hall to wait for the results of the manuals which would be announced on the huge teleceiver screen. Since all the units were taking their tests that afternoon, the hall was crowded with green-clad cadets, talking in low murmurs and waiting tensely for the outcome of the exam.

Tom entered the huge room, looked around and then drifted toward Al Dixon, the senior cadet who had greeted them as a unit after passing classification tests. The blue-clad cadet was listening to a story spool, a device that told a story, rather than let the person read it from a book.

“Hiya, Corbett,” said Dixon, smiling. “Drag up a chair. Listening to a terrific yarn about a guy stranded on an asteroid and then he finds⁠—” The redheaded cadet’s voice trailed off when he noticed that Tom wasn’t listening.

“Say, what’s the matter with you? You look like you just lost your best friend.”

“Not yet, but it won’t be long now,” commented Tom, a trace of bitterness creeping into his voice. “Astro’s taking his power-deck manual. What he knows about those compression ratios just isn’t known. But he just can’t get it on paper.”

“Don’t sell your unit-mate short,” said Dixon, sensing something beneath Tom’s comment. “I’ve heard that big fellow knows more about a rocket deck than McKenny.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” said Tom, “but⁠—”

“You know, Corbett,” said Dixon, switching off the story spool, “there’s something screwy in that outfit of yours.”

“You can say that again,” agreed Tom bitterly.

“You come in here with a face dragging on the floor, and Manning⁠—”

Tom’s head jerked up. “Manning! What about that space-gassing hot-shot?”

“⁠—Manning just tore through the rec hall trying to get some of the other Earthworm units to bet their galley demerits against your outfit.”

Tom’s mouth sagged open. “You mean, he actually wanted to bet that Astro would pass?”

“Not just pass, Corbett, but he wanted to bet that your unit would be top rocket of the Earthworms! The head of the list!”

“But he told Astro that⁠—” he stopped.

“Told him what?” Dixon asked.

“Ah⁠—nothing⁠—nothing⁠—” said Tom. He jumped up and headed for the door.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“To find Manning. There are a couple of things I want to clear up.”

Tom left Dixon shaking his head in bewilderment and jumped on the slidestairs. He was going to have it out with Roger once and for all. Hopping off the slidestairs onto the forty-second floor, he started down the long hall to his quarters.

Nearing the door, he heard Roger’s laugh, and then his lazy voice talking to someone inside.

“Sure, they’re dumb, but they’re not bad guys,” said Roger.

Tom walked into the room. Roger was sitting on the side of his bunk facing Tony Richards.

“Hiya, Corbett,” said Roger, “did you hear how Astro made out yet?”

Tom ignored the question.

“I want to talk to you, Roger.”

Roger eyed him suspiciously. “Sure, Corbett, go ahead.”

“Well, I’ll be going along,” said Richards. He had heard about the previous fight between Manning and Corbett and didn’t want to be hauled up as a witness later if they started again. “Remember, Manning,” he called from the doorway, “the bet is two to one, and are you going to get tired of washing pots and pans!” He waved his hand at Corbett and disappeared.

“All right, Corbett,” Roger turned to Tom. “What’s frying you?”

“I just saw Al Dixon down in the rec hall,” answered Tom. “He told me you were looking for bets on the unit ratings. Is that why Richards was here?”

“That’s right,” nodded Roger.

“What made you say the things you did to Astro before he went for his manual?”

“Very simple. I wanted to make him pass and that was the only way.”

“You’re pretty sure of yourself, Roger.”

“I’m always sure of myself, Corbett. And the sooner you learn that, the easier it’ll be for all of us. I never bet unless it’s in the bag. I know Astro’s going to pass. Some guys have to have a fire built under them before they get moving. Astro’s one of them.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” said Tom. “Why did you say the things you did before a guy goes to take an exam?”

“I said what I did to make Tony Richards give me odds. And to make Astro mad enough to pass. We’re a cinch to win and Richards’ outfit will be indebted to us for a year’s worth of galley demerits.” He smiled easily. “Smooth, huh?”

“I think it’s rotten,” said Tom. “Astro left here feeling like a plugged credit! And if he does fail, it’ll be because you made him think he was the dumbest guy in the universe!”

“He probably is,” mused Roger, “but he still won’t fail that manual.”

From the hallway behind them, a loud blasting yell was suddenly heard, echoing from somewhere on the lower floors. Tom and Roger waited, their eyes wide and hopeful. There was only one person at Space Academy capable of making such a noise.

“He made it!” Tom exclaimed.

“Of course he made it,” said Roger casually.

Astro tore into