Chapter 2

“The situation may be serious and it may not, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

Commander Walters sat in his office, high up in the Tower of Galileo, with department heads from the Academy and Solar Guard. Behind him, an entire wall made of clear crystal offered a breath-taking view of the Academy grounds. Before him, their faces showing their concern over a report Walters had just read, Captain Strong, Major Connel, Dr. Joan Dale, and Professor Sykes waited for the commanding officer of the Academy to continue.

“As you know,” said Walters, “the resolution passed by the Council in establishing the Solar Guard specifically states that it shall be the duty of the Solar Guard to investigate and secure evidence for the Solar Alliance Council of any acts by any person, or group of persons, suspected of overt action against the Solar Constitution or the Universal Bill of Rights. Now, based on the report I’ve just read to you, I would like an opinion from each of you.”

“For what purpose, Commander?” asked Joan Dale, the young and pretty astrophysicist.

“To decide whether it would be advisable to have a full and open investigation of this information from the Solar Guard attaché on Venus.”

“Why waste time talking?” snapped Professor Sykes, the chief of the nucleonics laboratory. “Let’s investigate. That report sounds serious.”

Major Connel leveled a beady eye on the little gray-haired man.

“Professor Sykes, an investigation is serious. When it is based on a report like this one, it is doubly serious, and needs straight and careful thinking. We don’t want to hurt innocent people.”

Sykes shifted around in his chair and glared at the burly Solar Guard officer. “Don’t try to tell me anything about straight thinking, Connel. I know more about the Solar Constitution and the rights of our citizens than you’ll know in ten thousand light years!”

“Yeah?” roared Connel. “And with all your brains you’d probably find out these people are nothing more than a harmless bunch of colonists out on a picnic!”

The professor shot out of his chair and waved an angry finger under Connel’s nose. “And that would be a lot more than I’m finding out right now with that contraption of yours!” he shouted.

Connel’s face turned red. “So that’s how you feel about my invention!” he snapped.

“Yes, that’s the way I feel about your invention!” replied Sykes hotly. “I know three cadets that could build that gadget in half the time it’s taken you just to figure out the theory!”

Commander Walters, Captain Strong, and Joan Dale were fighting to keep from laughing at the hot exchange between the two veteran spacemen.

“They sound like the Polaris unit,” Joan whispered to Strong.

Walters stood up. “Gentlemen! Please! We’re here to discuss a report on the activities of a secret organization on Venus. I will have to ask you to keep to the subject at hand. Dr. Dale, do you have any comments on the report?” He turned to the young physicist who was choking off a laugh.

“Well, Commander,” she began, still smiling, “the report is rather sketchy. I would like to see more information before any real decision is made.”

Walters turned to Strong. “Steve?”

“I think Joan has the right idea, sir,” he replied. “While the report indicates that a group of people on Venus are meeting regularly and secretly, and wearing some silly uniform, I think we need more information before ordering a full-scale investigation.”

“He’s right, Commander,” Connel broke in. “You just can’t walk into an outfit and demand a look at their records, books, and membership index, unless you’re pretty sure you’ll find something.”

“Send a man from here,” Strong suggested. “If you use anyone out of the Venus office, he might be recognized.”

“Good idea,” commented Sykes.

Joan nodded. “Sounds reasonable.”

“How do you feel about it, Connel?” asked Walters.

Connel, still furious over Sykes’s comment on his spectrum recorder, shot an angry glance at the professor. “I think it’s fine,” he said bluntly. “Who’re you going to send?”

Walters paused before answering. He glanced at Strong and then back at Connel. “What about yourself?”

“Me?”

“Why not?” continued Walters. “You know as much about Venus as anyone, and you have a lot of friends there you can trust. Nose around a while, see what you can learn, unofficially.”

“But what about my work on the spectrum recorder?” asked Connel.

“That!” snorted Sykes derisively. “Huh, that can be completed any time you want to listen to some plain facts about--”

“I’ll never listen to anything you have to say, you dried-up old neutron chaser!” blasted Connel.

“Of course not,” cackled Sykes. “And it’s the same bullheaded stubbornness that’ll keep you from finishing that recorder.”

“I’m sorry, gentlemen,” said Walters firmly. “I cannot allow personal discussions to interfere with the problem at hand. How about it, Connel? Will you go to Venus?”

Lou Connel was the oldest line officer in the Solar Guard, having recommended the slightly younger Walters for the post of commandant of Space Academy and the Solar Guard so that he himself could escape a desk job and continue blasting through space where he had devoted his entire life. While Walters had the authority to order him to accept the assignment, Connel knew that if he begged off because of his work on the recorder, Walters would understand and offer the assignment to Strong. He paused and then growled, “When do I blast off?”

Walters smiled and answered, “As soon as we contact Venus headquarters and tell them to expect you.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to let me go without any fanfare?” mused the burly spaceman. “I could just take a ship and act as though I’m on some kind of special detail. As a matter of fact, Higgleston at the Venusport lab has some information I could use.”

“Anything Higgleston could tell you,” interjected Sykes, “I can tell you! You’re just too stubborn to listen to me.”

Connel opened his mouth to blast the professor in return, but he caught a sharp look from Walters and he clamped his lips together tightly.

“I guess that’s it, then,” said Walters. “Anyone have any other ideas?” He glanced around the room. “Joan? Steve?”

Dr. Dale and Captain Strong shook their heads silently. Strong was disappointed that he had not been given the assignment on Venus. Four weeks at the deserted Academy would seem like living in a graveyard. Walters sensed his feelings, and smiling, he said, “You’ve been going like a hot rocket this past year, Steve. I have a specific assignment for you.”

“Yes, sir!” Strong looked up eagerly.

“I want you to go to the Sweet Water Lakes around New Chicago--”

“Yes, sir?”

“--go to my cabin--”

“Sir?”

“--and go fishing!”

Strong grinned. “Thanks, skipper,” he said quietly. “I guess I could use a little relaxation. I was almost tempted to join Corbett, Manning, and Astro. They’re going hunting in the jungle belt of Venus for a tyrannosaurus!”

“Blast my jets!” roared Connel. “Those boys haven’t killed themselves in line of duty, so they go out and tangle with the biggest and most dangerous monster in the entire solar system!”

“Well,” said Joan with a smile, “I’ll put my money on Astro against a tyranno any time, pound for pound!”

“Hear, hear!” chimed in Sykes, and forgetting his argument with Connel, he turned to the spaceman. “Say, Lou,” he said, “when you get to Venus tell Higgy I said to show you that magnetic ionoscope he’s rigging up. It might give you some ideas.”

“Thanks,” replied Connel, also forgetting the hot exchange of a few minutes before. He stood up. “I’ll take the Polaris, Commander. She’s the fastest ship available with automatic controls for a solo hop.”

“She’s been stripped of her reactant pile, Major,” said Strong. “It’ll take a good eighteen hours to soup her up again.”

“I’ll take care of it,” said Connel. “Are there any specific orders, Commander?”

“Use your own judgment, Lou,” said Walters. “You know what we want and how far to go to get it. If you learn anything, we’ll start a full-scale investigation. If not, we’ll forget the whole matter and no one will get hurt.”

“And the Solar Guard won’t get a reputation of being nosy,” added Strong.

Connel nodded. “I’ll take care of it.” He shook hands all around, coming to Sykes last. “Sorry I lost my temper, Professor,” he said gruffly.

“Forget it, Major.” Sykes smiled. He really admired the gruff spaceman.

The thick-set senior officer came to smart attention, saluted crisply, turned, and left the office. For the time being, the mysterious trouble on Venus was his responsibility.

“Atom City express leaving on Track Four!”

A metallic voice boomed over the station loud-speaker, as last-minute passengers boarded the long line of gleaming white monorail cars, hanging from a single overhead steel rail. In the open doorway of one of the end cars, a conductor lifted his arm, then paused and waited patiently as three Space Cadets raced down the stairs and along the platform in a headlong dash for the train. They piled inside, almost one on top of the other.