ng mad he couldn't speak. Finally, after they had showered
and were climbing into their bunks, Tom spoke for the first time since
leaving Vidac.

"I have to write a report to Captain Strong," he said, when Roger
started to turn out the light. "Better leave it on a while, Roger."

"O.K., Tom," said Roger. "Are you going to tell him what's going on
here?"

"Yeah," growled Astro. "Give him the whole works. There's something
wrong here somewhere. I can understand the professor blasting his jets.
He does that all the time. But I can't understand Vidac acting the way
he does."

"I feel the same way, Astro," said Tom, "but actually what are we going
to say to Captain Strong? So far nothing concrete has happened." He
shook his head. "I'm afraid if I put what happened down on an
audioscriber that it'll look as though we've suddenly become
cry-babies!"

"I'm ready to quit!" said Roger. "Grab a freighter and blast outta here.
A whole year with this guy! There's no telling what he's liable to do!"

Tom leaned over the table and stared at the bulkhead in front of him. He
clenched his fists. Needless to say, he agreed with Roger, he had the
same feelings. But he was powerless to do anything about it.

CHAPTER 7

"All set, Tom," called Roger, adjusting the valves that supplied a
steady stream of oxygen into his space suit. Tom nodded and turned to
Astro, seated behind them, his hand on the remote-control switch
governing the huge air-lock portal on the jet-boat deck.

"Open her up, Astro," he ordered, his voice crackling through the
spacephones inside his space helmet. Astro pressed the lever opening the
sliding panel in the side of the hull of the _Polaris_ and the cold
blackness of outer space came into view.

Seated at the controls of the jet boat, Tom pressed down on the
acceleration pedal, sending the tiny ship rocketing out of the _Polaris_
like a projectile. As they circled their mother ship, Roger pointed out
the vessel they were going to and Tom settled down to full throttle in
the direction of Roald colony vessel Number Twelve. The huge converted
luxury liner carrying many of the colonists was several lanes away in
the sprawling formation of ships and it would take several minutes for
them to traverse the four hundred miles to Number Twelve.

The three cadets were under orders to tour the fleet and observe
conditions aboard the other ships. It was obviously a nuisance
assignment since any extraordinary