ast friends.

As control-deck cadet and pilot, Tom was head of the unit,
second-in-command to Captain Strong. And while he could issue orders to
Astro and Roger and expect to be obeyed, the three cadets all spoke
their minds when it came to making difficult decisions. This had
solidified the three cadets into a fighting, experienced, dependable
unit.

Tom made a final check on the gravity generator and turned to the
intercom.

"All departments, report!" he called.

"Radar bridge checks in O.K.," replied Roger.

"Power deck checks in on the nose, Tom," reported Astro.

"Right! Stand by! We blast as soon as the skipper gets around."

Tom turned to the teleceiver and switched it on. The screen blurred and
then steadied into a view of the spaceport outside. Tom scanned the
launching ramp below, and, satisfied it was clear, he switched the
teleceiver to the spaceport traffic-control circuit.

"Rocket cruiser _Polaris_ to spaceport control," he called. "Come in,
spaceport control. Request orbit clearance."

"Spaceport traffic control to _Polaris_," reported the traffic officer,
his face in focus on the teleceiver screen. "Your orbit has been cleared
for blast-off. Orbit number 3847--repeat, 3847--raise ship when ready!"

"Orbit 3847," repeated Tom. "End transmission!"

"End transmission," said the officer. Tom flipped off the teleceiver and
the officer's face disappeared.

At the rear of the control deck, Captain Strong suddenly stepped through
the hatch and dropped his black plastic space bag on the deck. Tom got
up and saluted sharply.

"_Polaris_ ready to blast off, sir," he said. "Orbit cleared."

"Very well, Corbett," replied Strong, returning the salute. "Carry on!"

Tom turned back to the control board and flipped on the intercom.
"Control deck to power deck! Energize the cooling pumps!"

"Cooling pumps, aye!" said Astro.

From the power deck, the massive pumps began their whining roar. The
great ship shuddered under the pressure.

Tom watched the gauge that indicated the pressure control and then
called into the intercom.

"Radar bridge, do we have a clear trajectory?'

"All clear forward and up, Tom," reported Roger from the radar bridge.

"Strap in for blast-off!" bawled the curly-haired cadet.

Captain Strong took his place in the pilot's chair next to Tom and
strapping himself in snapped out, "Feed reactant!"

Spinning a small wheel at the side of the control panel, Tom reported,
"Feed