Chapter 8

The campus of Space Academy was quiet that evening. Only a few cadets were still out on the quadrangle, lounging around in the open before returning to their quarters for bed-check.

On the forty-second floor of the dormitory building, two thirds of the newly formed Polaris unit, Tom and Astro, were in heated argument.

“All right, all right, so the guy is brilliant,” said Astro. “But who can live with him? Not even himself!”

“Maybe he is a little difficult,” replied Tom, “but somehow, we’ve got to adjust to him!”

“How about him adjusting to us? It’s two against one!” Astro shambled to the window and looked out moodily. “Besides, he’s putting in for a transfer and there’s nothing we can do about it!”

“Maybe he won’t now--not after that little speech Captain Strong made this afternoon.”

“If he doesn’t, then, blast it, I will!”

“Aw, now take it easy, Astro!”

“Take it easy, nothing!” Astro was building up a big head of steam. “Where is that space crawler right now?”

“I don’t know. He never came back. Wasn’t even down at mess tonight.”

“There, that’s just what I mean!” Astro turned to Tom to press his point. “It’s close to bed-check and he isn’t in quarters yet. If the MP’s catch him outside after hours, the whole unit will be logged and there goes our chance of blasting off tomorrow!”

“But there’s still time, Astro,” replied Tom lamely.

“Not much there isn’t. It just shows you what he thinks of the unit! He just doesn’t care!” Astro paced the floor angrily. “There’s only one thing to do! He gets his transfer--or we do! Or--” he paused and looked at Tom meaningfully, “or I do.”

“You’re not thinking, Astro,” argued Tom. “How will that look on your record? Every time there’s a trip into deep space, they yank out your file to see how you operate under pressure with other guys. When they see that you asked for a transfer from your unit, that’s it!”

“Yeah--yeah--I know--incompatible--but honest, Tom--”

The curly-haired cadet felt his big friend weaken and he pressed his advantage.

“It isn’t every day that a unit gets a ship right after finishing ground manuals. Captain Strong said he waited for four months after manuals before getting his first hop into space.”

“Yeah--but what do you think it’s going to be like out in space with Manning making sour cracks all the time?”

Tom hesitated before answering his Venusian friend. He was fully aware that Roger was going to play a lone hand. And that they would never really have unity among them until some drastic measure was taken. After all, Tom thought, some guys don’t have good hearts, or eyes, a defect to prevent them from becoming spacemen. Roger is just mixed up inside. And the handicap is just as real as if he had a physical flaw.

“Well, what do you want to do?” asked Tom finally.

“Go see Captain Strong. Give it to him straight. Tell him we want a transfer.”

“But tomorrow we blast off. We might not have another chance for months! Certainly not until we get a new astrogator.”

“I’d rather wait and have a guy on the radar bridge I know isn’t going to pull something behind my back,” said Astro, “than blast off tomorrow with Manning aboard.”

Again Tom hesitated. He knew what Astro was saying was the truth. Life, so far, at the Academy had been tough enough, but with mutual dependence and security even more important out in space, the danger of their constant friction was obvious.

“O.K.,” he relented, “if that’s the way you really want it. Come on. We’ll go see Captain Strong now.”

“You go,” said Astro. “You know how I feel. Whatever you say goes for me too.”

“Are you sure you want to do it?” asked Tom. He knew what such a request would mean. A black mark against Roger for being rejected by his unit-mates and a black mark against Astro and himself for not being able to adjust. Regardless of who was right and who was wrong, there would always be a mark on their records.

“Look, Tom,” said Astro, “if I thought it was only me I’d keep my mouth shut. But you’d let Manning get away with murder because you wouldn’t want to be the one to get him into trouble.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” said Tom. “I think Roger would make a fine spaceman; he’s certainly smart enough, and a good unit-mate if he’d only snap out of it. But I can’t let him or anyone else stop me from becoming a spaceman or a member of the Solar Guard.”

“Then you’ll go see Captain Strong?”

“Yes,” said Tom. If he had been in doubt before, now that he had made the decision, he felt relieved. He slipped on his space boots and stood up. The two boys looked at each other, each realizing the question in the other’s mind.

“No!” said Tom decisively. “It’s better for everyone. Even Roger. He might find two other guys that will fit him better.” He walked from the room.