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

“Mrs. John Bailey?” called Tom.

A gray-haired woman of about sixty stepped forward.

“Pardon me, sir, but I would rather remain with my husband, and go later with him.”

“No⁠—no, Mary,” pleaded an elderly man, holding his arm around her shoulder. “Go now. I’ll be all right. Won’t I, sir?” He looked at Tom anxiously.

“I can’t be sure, sir,” said Tom. He found it difficult to control his voice as he looked down at the old couple, who couldn’t weigh more than two hundred pounds between them.

“I’m going to stay,” said the woman firmly.

“As you wish, Madam,” said Tom. He looked at the list again. “Mrs. Helen Carson?”

A woman about thirty-five, carrying a young boy about four years old, stepped out and took her place beside the two sisters.

In a moment, the first eight passengers were assembled into two groups, helped into space suits, with a special portable suit for the little boy, and loaded in the jet boats. The red light over the hatch glowed, then went out. The first load of passengers had left the Lady Venus.

“They’re pretty jumpy,” Roger whispered, nodding toward the remaining passengers.

“Yeah,” answered Tom. “Say, where’s Astro?”

“I don’t know. Probably went to take a look at the jet boats to see if one could be repaired so we’d have a third ferry running.”

“Good idea,” said Tom. “See if you can’t cheer these people up, Roger. Tell them stories or sing songs⁠—or better yet, get them to sing. Try to make them forget they’re sitting on an atom bomb!”

“I can’t forget it myself,” said Roger. “How can I make them forget it?”

“Try anything. I’ll go see if I can’t give Astro a hand!”

Roger turned to face the assembled passengers and smiled. All around him in the main passenger lounge, the frightened men and women sat huddled together in small groups, staring at him, terror in their eyes.

“Ladieeees and Gentlemen,” began Roger. “You are now going to be entertained by the loudest, corniest and most miserable voice in the universe. I’m going to sing!”

He waited for a laugh, but there was only a slight stir as the passengers shifted nervously in their seats.

Shrugging his shoulders, Roger took a deep breath and began to sing. He only knew one song and he sang it with gusto.

“From the rocket fields of the Academy
To the far-flung stars of outer space,
We’re Space Cadets training to be⁠ ⁠…”

On the lower deck of the passenger ship, Tom smiled as he faintly heard his unit-mate’s voice. He made his way to the jet-boat deck of the Lady Venus and opened the hatch.

“Hey, Astro,” he called. There wasn’t any answer.

He stepped inside and looked around the empty deck. Walking over to one of the jet boats, he saw evidence of Al James’s attempts to send out emergency signal messages. He called again. “Hey, Astro⁠—where are you?” Still no answer. He noticed that one of the jet boats was missing. There were three still on the deck, but an empty catapult for the fourth made Tom think that Astro might have repaired the fourth and taken it out in space for a test. The light over the escape hatch indicated that someone had gone out. It was odd, thought Tom, for Astro to go out alone. But then he shrugged, remembering how Astro could lose himself in his work and forget everything but the job at hand. He climbed back to the passenger deck.

When Tom opened the hatch to the main lounge, the sight that filled his eyes was so funny that, even in the face of danger, he had to laugh. Roger, with his hands clasped behind his back, was down on his knees trying to push a food pellet across the deck with his nose. The whole passenger lounge echoed with hysterical laughter.

Suddenly the laughter was stopped by the sound of the bell over the air-lock hatch. Strong and James had returned to ferry more passengers to the Polaris. Immediately the fun was forgotten and the passengers crowded around for the roll call.

“Where’s Astro?” asked Strong, as he reappeared in the lounge.

“He’s down on the jet-boat deck, sir, trying to fix another one,” replied Tom. “I think he’s out testing one now.”

“Good,” said Strong. “How’re they taking it?” He indicated the passengers.

“Roger’s been keeping them amused with games and songs, sir,” said Tom proudly.

“They’ll need it. I don’t mind telling you, Corbett,” said Strong, “it’s a wonder to me this tub hasn’t blown up already.”

In less than a half hour, the forty passengers and crewmen of the Lady Venus were transferred in alphabetical order to the waiting Polaris. Roger kept up a continual line of patter and jokes and stories, making a fool of himself, but keeping the remaining passengers amused and their minds off the dangers of the rapidly building reaction mass.

“Just one passenger left,” said Strong, “with myself and you three. I think we can squeeze five in that jet boat and get off here.”

“That’s for me,” said Roger. “I’m the only man in the whole universe that’s ever played to a packed house sitting on top of an atomic bomb!”

“All right, Barrymore,” said Strong, “get aboard!”

“Say,” asked Tom, “where’s Astro?”

“I don’t know,” replied Roger. “I thought you went to find him half an hour ago!”

“I did,” said Tom, “but when I went to the jet-boat deck, one was missing. So I figured he had fixed one and taken it out for a test.”

“Then he’s probably outside in space now!” said Strong. Suddenly the Solar Guard captain caught himself. “Wait a minute! How many jet boats were on the deck, Corbett?”

“Three, sir.”

“Then Astro is still aboard the ship,” said Strong. “He couldn’t have taken a boat. James told me he couldn’t repeat the message he sent out because he only had the power of three jet boats. One was damaged and left behind at Atom City!”

“By the rings of Saturn,” said Roger, “a coupla million miles from home, sitting on an atomic bomb and that big Venusian hick decides to