Chapter 5

“The space station’s biggest headache,” said Terry Scott, a young Solar Guard officer assigned the job of showing the Polaris crew around, “is to 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 of the station. When more weight is taken aboard, or weight leaves the station, we have to adjust the gyro’s speed.”

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

Dials, gauges, meters, were arrayed in seemingly endless rows--but each one 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 that Connel 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 huge dynamo, which he watched with appreciative eyes. But then Terry Scott introduced the Polaris unit to an older Solar Guard officer.

“Cadets, meet Captain Jenledge,” said Scott. “And, sir, this is Cadet Astro. Major Connel would like him to work with you while he’s here.”

“Glad to know you, boys,” said Jenledge, “and particularly you, Cadet Astro. I’ve heard about your handiness with the thrust buckets on the cruisers. What do you think of our layout?”

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

“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 had constructed this space station.

Throughout the solar system it was considered his baby. And when he had asked for permission to remain on as senior power-deck chief, the Solar Alliance 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-deck cadets and junior Solar Guard officers.

Astro beamed. So, the great Jenledge had actually heard of him--of humble Cadet Astro. He could hardly restrain himself from ripping off his blue uniform and going right to work on a near-by machine that had been torn apart for repairs. Finally he managed to gasp, “I think it’s great, sir--just wonderful!”

“Very well, Cadet Astro,” said the officer. “There’s a pair of coveralls in my locker. You can start right to work.” He paused and his eyes 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 think Cadet 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 walked in there? Like a kid with a brand-new toy!”

A moment later Scott, Tom, and Roger, in a vacuum elevator, were being hurtled to the station’s upper decks. They got out on the observation deck, and Scott walked directly to a small door at the end of a corridor. A light over the door flashed red and Scott stopped.

“Here’s the weather and meteor observation room,” he said. “Also radar communications. When the red light’s on, it means photographs are being taken. We’ll have to wait for them to finish.”

As they waited, Tom and Roger talked to Scott. He had graduated from Space Academy seven years before, they learned. He’d been assigned to the Solar Alliance Chamber as liaison between the Chamber and the Solar Guard. After four years, he had requested a transfer to active space operations.

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

The cadets, who had thought him a bit stuffy at first, were changing their 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 subdued whisper. All around them huge screens displayed various views of the surface of Venus as it slowly revolved beneath the station. Along one side of the room was a solid bank of four-foot-square teleceiver screens with an enlisted spaceman or junior officer seated in front of each one. These men, at their microphones, were relaying meteor and weather information to all parts of the solar system. Now it was Roger’s turn to get excited at seeing the wonderful radar scanners that swept space for hundreds of thousands of miles. They were powerful enough to pick up a spaceship’s identifying outline while still two hundred thousand miles away! 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,” he said. “The most powerful. And it’s showing you a picture of the Andromeda Galaxy, thousands of light years away. Most of the lights you see 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 the young officer.

As Tom and Roger walked silently among the men at the teleceiver screens, Scott continued to explain. “This is where you’ll be, Manning,” he said, indicating a large radarscope scanner a little to one side and partially hidden from the glow of the huge teleceiver screen. “We need a man on watch here twenty-four hours a day, though there isn’t much doing between midnight and eight A.M. on radar watch. A little traffic, but nothing compared to what we get during the regular working day.”

“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 station is pretty much like any sleepy Middle Western town. Rolls up the sidewalks and goes to bed.”