"Polaris to Commander Walters at Space Academy—Come in, Commander Walters!" Captain Strong's voice was urgent in the teleceiver. "Just worked up an assumed position on the Lady Venus," said Roger over the intercom. "I think she's bearing about seventeen degrees to port of us, and about one-twenty-eight on the down-plane of the ecliptic." "O.K., Roger," said Tom. "Captain Strong's trying to reach Commander Walters now." He made a quick mental calculation. "Golly, Roger—if you've figured it right, we're closer to the Lady Venus than anyone else!" The teleceiver audio crackled. "Commander Walters at Space Academy to Captain Strong on the Polaris. Come in, Steve!" "Commander!" Strong's voice sounded relieved. "Did you get that emergency from the Lady Venus—the S O S?" "Yes, we did, Steve," said the commander. "How far away from her are you?" Without a word, Tom handed Strong the position that Roger had computed. Strong relayed the information to the commander. "If you're that close, go to her aid in the Polaris. "Right, sir," replied Steve. "I'll report as soon as I get any news. End transmission!" "Spaceman's luck, end transmission!" said the commander. "Have you got a course for us, Roger?" asked Strong. "Yes, sir!" "Then let's get out of here. I have a feeling there's something more than just the usual emergency attached to that S O S from the Lady Venus." In twenty seconds the mighty cruiser was blasting through space to the aid of the stricken passenger ship. "Better get the emergency equipment ready, Tom," said Strong. "Space suits for the four of us and every spare space suit you have on the ship. Never can tell what we might run into. Also the first-aid surgical kit and every spare oxygen bottle. Oh, yeah, and have Astro get both jet boats ready to blast off immediately. I'll keep trying to pick them up again on the teleceiver." "Yes, sir," replied Tom sharply. "What's going on up there?" asked Astro, when Tom had relayed the orders from Captain Strong. Tom quickly told him of the emergency signal from the Lady Venus. "Lady—Venus—" said the big cadet, rolling the name on his tongue, "I know her. She's one of the Martian City—Venusport jobs—an old-timer. Converted from a chemical burner to atomic reaction about three years ago!" "Any ideas what the trouble might be?" asked Tom. "I don't know," replied Astro. "There are a hundred and fifty things that could go wrong—even on this wagon and she's brand new. But I wouldn't be surprised if it was on the power deck!" "And what makes you think so?" asked Tom. "I knew a spaceman once that was on a converted tub just like the Lady Venus and he had trouble with the reaction chamber." "Wow!" exclaimed Tom. "Let's hope it isn't that now!" "You can say that again," said Astro grimly. "When this stuff gets out of control, there's very little you can do with it, except leave it alone and pile out!" The Polaris, rocketing through space at full space speed, plunged like a silver bullet through the vastness of the black void, heading for what Strong hoped to be the Lady Venus. Tom prepared the emergency equipment, doubling all the reserves on the oxygen bottles by refilling the empties he found on the ship and making sure that all space suits were in perfect working order. Then he opened the emergency surgical kit and began the laborious task of examining every vial and drug in the kit to acquaint himself with what there was to work with just in case. He brought all the stores of jelly out for radiation burns and finally opened a bottle of special sterilization liquid with which to wipe all the instruments and vials clean. He checked the contents of the kit once more, and, satisfied that everything was as ready as he could make it, he went up to the control deck. "Any other message from them yet, sir?" asked Tom. "Nothing yet," answered Strong. "If I could pick them up on the teleceiver, maybe they could tell us what the trouble is and then we could more or less be prepared to help them." He bent over the teleceiver screen and added grimly, "If there is anything left to help!" "Radar deck to control deck!" Roger's voice was tense. "I think I've picked them up on the radar scanner, Captain Strong!" "Relay it down here to control-deck scanner, Manning," ordered Strong. "Ummmh!" murmured the captain when the screen began to glow. "I'm pretty sure that's her. Here's that assumed position Roger worked up, Tom. Check it against this one here on the scanner." Tom quickly computed the position of the object on the scanner and compared it to the position Roger had given them previously. "If Roger's positioning was correct, sir," said Tom, "then that's the Lady Venus. They both check out perfectly!" Strong, bent over the radar scanner, didn't answer. Finally he turned around and flipped off the scanner. "That's her," he announced. "Congratulations, Roger. You hit it right on the nose!" "How shall we approach her, sir?" asked Tom. "We'd better wait until she sends up her flares." "You mean the identification flares for safety factors?" "That's right," replied Strong. "A white flare means it's all right to come alongside and couple air locks. A red one means to stand off and wait for instructions." Strong turned to the intercom. "Control deck to power deck. Reduce thrust to one quarter space speed!" "Power deck, aye," answered Astro. "We'll wait until we're about two miles away from her and then use our braking jets in the bow of the ship to bring us within a few thousand feet of her," commented Strong. "Yes, sir," said Tom. "Work up an estimated range, Roger," said Strong, "and give me a distance on our approach." "Aye, aye, sir," Roger replied. "Objective four miles away now, sir." "When we hit three miles," said Strong to Tom, "have Astro stand by the forward braking jets." "Aye, sir," said Tom. "Three-and-a-half miles," said Roger a few moments later. "Closing in fast. Lady Venus looks like a dead ship." "That could only mean one thing," said Strong bitterly. "There has been a power-deck failure of some sort." "Three miles to objective, sir," reported Roger. "I think I can pick her up on the teleceiver now, but only one way, from us to her." "All right," said Strong, "see what you can do." In a few moments the teleceiver screen glowed and then the silver outline of the Lady Venus appeared on the screen. "I don't see any damage to her hull," said Strong half to himself. "So if it was an explosion, it wasn't a bad one." "Yes, sir," said Tom. "Shall I stand by with the flares?" "Better send up a yellow identification flare, identifying us as the Solar Guard. Let them know who we are!" Tom turned to the yellow button on his left and pressed it. Immediately a white flash resembling a meteor appeared on the teleceiver screen. "There should be an answer soon," said Strong. "Three thousand yards to objective," reported Roger. "Fire braking rockets one half," ordered Strong. Tom relayed the order to Astro and made the necessary adjustments on the control panel. "Stern drive rockets out," ordered Strong. Once again Tom relayed the message to Astro and turned to the control board. "Cut all rockets!" ordered Strong sharply. The great ship, slowed by the force of the braking "They should be sending up their safety-factor flare soon," said Strong. "Keep trying to raise them on the teleceiver, Roger." Strong was peering through a crystal port directly at the ship hanging dead in space opposite them. There wasn't any sign of life. Tom stepped to the side of Steve Strong and looked out at the crippled passenger ship. "Why don't we go aboard, sir?" asked Tom. "We'll wait a little longer for the flare. If we don't get it soon—" "There it is, sir!" shouted Tom at Strong's side. From the flare port near the nose of the commercial ship, a ball of fire streaked out. "Red!" said Strong grimly, "That means we can't go alongside. We'll have to use jet boats." "Captain Strong," shouted Roger from the radar deck, "they're signaling us with a small light from the upper port on the starboard side!" "Can you read it?" asked Strong quickly. "I think so, sir. They're using standard space code, but the light is very dim." "What do they say?" " ... reaction ... chamber—" said Roger slowly as he read the blinking light, " ... radiation ... leaking around ... baffle ... all ... safe...." Roger stopped. "That's all, sir. I couldn't get the rest of it." Strong turned to the intercom. "Astro, get the jet boats ready to blast off immediately. Roger, send this message. 'Am coming aboard. Stand by to receive me on your number-one starboard jet-boat catapult deck, signed, Strong, Captain, Solar Guard.'" "Yes, sir!" replied Roger. "Get into your space suit, Tom, and give Astro a hand with the jet boats. I have to get a message back to "Aye, sir," said Tom. "Roger," said Strong, "stand by to record this message for the teleceiver in case Space Academy should call our circuit while we're off the ship." "All set, sir," came the reply from the radar deck. "O.K.—here goes—Captain Steve Strong—Solar Guard—am boarding passenger ship Lady Venus. Secondary communications signal message received indicates it is power-deck failure. Am taking cadets Corbett, Manning and Astro and boarding same at"—he paused and glanced at the clock—"thirteen hundred fifty one hours!" "That all, sir?" asked Roger. "That's it. Get that set on the open circuit for any one calling us, then climb into your space suit!" In a matter of minutes, the four spacemen of the Polaris crew were making last-minute adjustments on their space suits. Astro picked up his heavy belt of tools and strapped them around his waist. "What's that for, Astro?" asked Strong. "They'll have tools aboard the ship if we need them." "If that lead baffle in the reaction chamber has worked loose, sir, the odds are ten to one that the control chamber is flooded with radiation. And if it is, the tools are probably so hot you couldn't use them." "That's good thinking, Astro," complimented Strong. He turned to Tom and Roger and checked their suits and the oxygen supply and feeder valves on their backs. He then turned his back while Tom checked his, and Roger adjusted Astro's. "All right, turn on your communicators and test them," ordered Strong. One by one the boys flipped on the switch of the portable spacephones in their fish-bowl helmets and spoke "Astro, you and Roger take number-one boat," said Strong. "Tom and I will take number two." His voice had a harsh metallic tone through the headset spacephones. Roger hurried along with Astro to the number-one boat and climbed inside. "Jet boat has its own oxygen system," said Astro to Roger. "Better make use of it while we're in here and save our suits' supplies." "Good idea," said Roger. He locked the clear plastic airtight covering of the jet boat and began flicking at the control buttons. "Strap in, you Venusian hick. Here we go!" Roger shoved a lever at his side, making the jet-boat deck airtight from the rest of the Polaris, and then, by pressing a button on the simple control board, a section of the Polaris' hull slipped back, exposing them to empty space. The controls of a jet boat were simplicity itself. A half-moon wheel for guiding, up, down and either side, and two pedals on the floor, one for going and one for stopping. Roger stepped on the "Go" pedal and the small ship flashed out into the darkness of space. Almost immediately on the opposite side of the Polaris, Captain Strong and Tom in the second boat shot away from the rocket cruiser and both boats headed for the stricken spaceship. |