Danger in Deep Space Read online

  CHAPTER 5

  "The space station's biggest headache," said Terry Scott, a young SolarGuard officer assigned the job of showing the _Polaris_ crew around, "isto maintain perfect balance at all times."

  "How do you achieve that, sir?" asked Tom.

  "We create our own gravity by means of a giant gyroscope in the heart ofthe station. When more weight is taken aboard, or weight leaves thestation, we have to adjust the gyro's speed."

  They entered the power deck of the great ball-like satellite. Astro'seyes glowed with pleasure as he glanced approvingly from one massivemachine to another. The fuel tanks were made of thin durable aluminite;a huge cylinder, covered with heat-resistant paint, was the airconditioner; power came from a bank of atomic dynamos and generators;while those massive pumps kept the station's artificial air and watersupply circulating.

  Dials, gauges, meters, were arrayed in seemingly endless rows--but eachone of them actually played its part in keeping the station in balance.

  Astro's face was one big, delighted grin.

  "Well," said Roger with a sly wink at Tom, "you can't tell me thatConnel has made our Venusian unhappy. Even if he had given us liberty,I'll bet Astro would have spent it down here with the grease monkeys!"

  Astro didn't rise to the bait. His attention was riveted on a hugedynamo, which he watched with appreciative eyes. But then Terry Scottintroduced the _Polaris_ unit to an older Solar Guard officer.

  "Cadets, meet Captain Jenledge," said Scott. "And, sir, this is CadetAstro. Major Connel would like him to work with you while he's here."

  "Glad to know you, boys," said Jenledge, "and particularly you, CadetAstro. I've heard about your handiness with the thrust buckets on thecruisers. What do you think of our layout?"

  The officer turned and waved his hand to indicate the power-deckequipment.

  "This is just about the finest--the most terrif--"

  The officer smiled at Astro's inability to describe his feelings.Jenledge was proud of his power deck, proud of the whole establishment,for that matter. He had conceived it, had drawn the plans, and hadconstructed this space station.

  Throughout the solar system it was considered his baby. And when he hadasked for permission to remain on as senior power-deck chief, the SolarAlliance had jumped at the chance to keep such a good man on the job.The station had become a sort of postgraduate course for power-deckcadets and junior Solar Guard officers.

  Astro beamed. So, the great Jenledge had actually heard of him--ofhumble Cadet Astro. He could hardly restrain himself from ripping offhis blue uniform and going right to work on a near-by machine that hadbeen torn apart for repairs. Finally he managed to gasp, "I think it'sgreat, sir--just wonderful!"

  "Very well, Cadet Astro," said the officer. "There's a pair ofcoveralls in my locker. You can start right to work." He paused and hiseyes twinkled. "If you want to, that is!"

  "Want to!" roared Astro, and was off to the locker room.

  Jenledge turned to Scott. "Leave him with me, Scotty. I don't thinkCadet Astro's going to care much about the rest of the station!"

  Scott smiled, saluted, and walked away. Tom and Roger came to attention,saluted, and followed the young officer off the power deck.

  "Astro's probably happier now than he'll ever be in his life, Tom,"whispered Roger.

  "Yeah," agreed Tom. "Did you see the way his eyes lit up when we walkedin there? Like a kid with a brand-new toy!"

  A moment later Scott, Tom, and Roger, in a vacuum elevator, were beinghurtled to the station's upper decks. They got out on the observationdeck, and Scott walked directly to a small door at the end of acorridor. A light over the door flashed red and Scott stopped.

  "Here's the weather and meteor observation room," he said. "Also radarcommunications. When the red light's on, it means photographs are beingtaken. We'll have to wait for them to finish."

  As they waited, Tom and Roger talked to Scott. He had graduated fromSpace Academy seven years before, they learned. He'd been assigned tothe Solar Alliance Chamber as liaison between the Chamber and the SolarGuard. After four years, he had requested a transfer to active spaceoperations.

  Then, he told them, there'd been an accident. His ship exploded. He'dbeen badly injured--in fact, both his legs were now artificial.

  The cadets, who had thought him a bit stuffy at first, were changingtheir minds fast. Why hadn't he quit, they wanted to know?

  "Leave space?" said Scott. "I'd rather die. I can't blast off any more.But here at the station I'm still a spaceman."

  The red light went out, and they opened the door.

  In sharp contrast to the bustle and noise on the power deck, the meteor,weather, and radar observation room was filled with only a subduedwhisper. All around them huge screens displayed various views of thesurface of Venus as it slowly revolved beneath the station. Along oneside of the room was a solid bank of four-foot-square teleceiver screenswith an enlisted spaceman or junior officer seated in front of each one.These men, at their microphones, were relaying meteor and weatherinformation to all parts of the solar system. Now it was Roger's turn toget excited at seeing the wonderful radar scanners that swept space forhundreds of thousands of miles. They were powerful enough to pick up aspaceship's identifying outline while still two hundred thousand milesaway! Farther to one side, a single teleceiver screen, ten feet square,dominated the room. Roger gasped.

  Scott smiled. "That's the largest teleceiver screen in the universe," hesaid. "The most powerful. And it's showing you a picture of theAndromeda Galaxy, thousands of light years away. Most of the lights yousee there are no more than that, just light, their stars, or suns,having long ago exploded or burned. But the light continues to travel,taking thousands of years to reach our solar system."

  "But--but--" gasped Tom. "How can you be so accurate with this screen?It looks as though we were smack in the center of the galaxy itself!"

  "There's a fifty-inch telescope attached to the screen," Scott replied,"which is equal to the big one-thousand-inch 'eye' back at the Academy."

  "Why is that, sir?" asked Roger.

  "You don't get any distortion from atmosphere up here," replied theyoung officer.

  As Tom and Roger walked silently among the men at the teleceiverscreens, Scott continued to explain. "This is where you'll be, Manning,"he said, indicating a large radarscope scanner a little to one side andpartially hidden from the glow of the huge teleceiver screen. "We need aman on watch here twenty-four hours a day, though there isn't much doingbetween midnight and eight A.M. on radar watch. A littletraffic, but nothing compared to what we get during the regular workingday."

  "Any particular reason for that, sir?" asked Tom.

  "Oh, there just aren't many arrivals and departures during that period.We have night crews to handle light traffic, but by midnight the stationis pretty much like any sleepy Middle Western town. Rolls up thesidewalks and goes to bed."

  He motioned to Roger to follow him to the radar section and left Tomwatching the interesting spectacle on the giant teleceiver. A huge starcluster flashed brilliantly, filling the screen with light, then fadedinto the endless blackness of space. Tom caught his breath as heremembered what Scott had told him about the light being thousands ofyears old before reaching the solar system.

  "Manning's all set, Corbett," said Scott at Tom's elbow. "Come on. I'llshow you the traffic-control deck."

  Tom followed the young officer out of the room. As all true spacemen doat one time or another in their lives, he thought about the pitifullysmall part mankind had played so far in the conquest of the stars. Manhad come a long way, Tom was ready to admit, but there was still a lotof work ahead for young, courageous spacemen.

  As Scott and Tom climbed the narrow stairs to the traffic-control deck,the Solar Guard officer continued to speak of the man-made satellite."When the station was first built," he said, "it was expected to be justa way station for refueling and celestial observations. But now we'refinding other uses for it, just as though it were a sma
ll community onEarth, Mars, or Venus. In fact, they're now planning to build stilllarger stations." Scott opened the door to the traffic-control room. Hemotioned to Tom to follow him.

  This room, Tom was ready to admit, was the busiest place he had everseen in his life. All around the circular room enlisted Solar Guardsmensat at small desks, each with a monitoring board in front of him holdingthree teleceiver screens. As he talked into a mike near by, each man, byshifting from one screen to the next, was able to follow the progress ofa spaceship into or out of the landing ports. One thing puzzled Tom. Heturned to Scott.

  "Sir, how come some of those screens show the _station_ from the_outside_?" he asked. Tom pointed to a screen in front of him that had apicture of a huge jet liner just entering a landing port.

  "Two-way teleceivers, Corbett," said Scott with a smile. "When youarrived on the _Polaris_, didn't you have a view of the station on yourteleceiver?"

  "Yes, sir," answered Tom, "of course."

  "Well, these monitors picked up your image on the _Polaris_ teleceiver.So the traffic-control chief here could see exactly what you wereseeing."

  In the center of the circular room Tom noticed a round desk that wasraised about eight feet from the floor. This desk dominated all activityin the busy room. Inside it stood a Solar Guard officer, watching themonitoring teleceivers. He wore a throat microphone for sending outmessages, and for receiving calls had a thin silver wire running to thevibrating bone in his ear. He moved constantly, turning in a circle,watching the various landing ports on the many screens.Three-thousand-ton rocket liners, Solar Guard cruisers, scout ships, anddestroyers all moved about the satellite lazily, waiting for permissionto enter or depart. This man was the master traffic-control officer whohad first contacted Tom on his approach to the station. He did that forall approaching ships--contacted them, got the recognition signal,found out the ship's destination, its weight, and its cargo or passengerload.

  Then the connection was relayed to one of the secondary control officersat the monitoring boards.

  "That's Captain Stefens," said Scott in a whisper. "Toughest officer onthe station. He has to be. From five hundred to a thousand ships arriveand depart daily. It's his job to see that every arriving ship isproperly taken into the landing ports. Besides that, everything you'veseen, except the meteor and weather observation rooms, are under hiscommand. If he thinks a ship is overloaded, he won't allow it to enterand disrupt the balance of the station. Instead, he'll order its skipperto dump part of his cargo out in space to be picked up later. He makeshundreds of decisions a day--some of them really hair-raising. Once,when a rocket scout crew was threatened with exploding reactant mass, hecalmly told them to blast off into a desolate spot in space and blow up.The crew could have abandoned ship, but they chose to remain with it andwere blown to atoms. It could have happened to the station. That nighthe got a three-day pass from the station and went to Venusport."

  Scott shook his head. "I've heard Venusport will never be the same afterthat three-day pass of Captain Stefens."

  The young officer looked at Corbett quizzically. "That's the man you'regoing to work for."

  Scott walked over to the circular desk and spoke rapidly to the officerinside. As Tom approached, Stefens gave him a quick, sharp glance. Itsent a shiver down the cadet's spine. Scott waved to him to come over.

  "Captain Stefens, this is Cadet Tom Corbett."

  Tom came to attention.

  "All right, Corbett," said Stefens, speaking like a man who had a lotto do, knew how to do it, liked to do it, and was losing time. "Stand uphere with me and keep your mouth shut. Remember any questions you wantto ask, and when I have a spare moment, ask them. And by the rings ofSaturn, be sure I'm free to answer. Take my attention at the wrongmoment and we could have a bad accident."

  Stefens gave Scott a fleeting smile and turned back to his constantkeen-eyed inspection of the monitors.

  The radar watch was reporting the approach of a ship. Stefens began hiscold, precise orders.

  "Monitor seven, take freighter out of station on port sixty-six; monitortwelve, stand by for identification signal of jet liner coming in fromMars. Watch her closely. The Venusport Space Line is overloading again...."On and on he went, with Tom standing to one side watching withwide-eyed wonder as the many ships were maneuvered into and out of thestation.

  Suddenly Stefens turned to Tom. "Well, Corbett," he rasped, "what's thefirst question?"

  Tom gulped. He had been so fascinated by the room's sheer magic and byStefens' sure control of the traffic that he hadn't had a chance tothink.

  "I--I--don't have one--yet, sir," he managed finally.

  "I want five questions within five minutes!" snapped Stefens, "and theybetter be rocket-blasting _good questions_!" He turned back to themonitors.

  Tom Corbett, while he had gained the respect of many elder spacemen, wasdiscovering that a cadet's life got no easier as time went on. Hewondered fleetingly how Roger and Astro were making out, and then hebegan to think of some questions.

  Beside him, oblivious of his presence, Stefens continued to spoutdirections. "Monitor three, take rocket scout out of landing-porteight. One crew member is remaining aboard the station for medicaltreatment. He weighs one hundred and fifty-eight pounds. Make balanceadjustments accordingly...."

  Tom's head was spinning. It was all too much for one young cadet toabsorb on such short notice.