Treachery in Outer Space Part 10

He turned and left the stand without a word to Tom, Roger, or Astro. The three cadets looked at each other, feeling the tension in the air suddenly relax. Strong was busy talking to someone on the portable intercom and had missed the byplay between the three finalists.

"That Quent sure has a talent for making himself disliked," Tom commented to his unit mates.

"And all he's going to get for it is trouble," quipped Sid, who would not let any argument take away the pleasure he felt over winning the trials. "I'm going back to our s.h.i.+p and find out what happened to those feeders."

"I'll come with you," volunteered Astro.

"Just a minute, Astro," interrupted Strong. "I've been talking with Commander Walters. He's on his way back to the Tower of Galileo and called me from the portable communicator on the main slidewalk. He wants me to report to his office on the double. You three will have to take care of the final details here."

"Come down when you can," said Sid to Astro, and turned to leave with Kit.

"Something wrong, sir?" asked Tom.

"I don't know, Tom," replied Strong, a worried frown on his face.

"Commander Walters seemed excited."

"Does it have anything to do with the race?" asked Roger.

"In a way it does," replied Strong. "I'm leaving on special a.s.signment.

I'm not sure, but I think you three will have to monitor the race by yourselves."

Major Connel sat to one side of Commander Walters' desk, a scowl on his heavy, fleshy face. The commander paced back and forth in front of the desk, and Captain Strong stood at the office window staring blankly down on the dark quadrangle below. The door opened and the three officers turned quickly to see Dr. Joan Dale enter, carrying several papers in her hand.

"Well, Joan?" asked Walters.

"I'm afraid that the reports are true, sir," Dr. Dale said. "There are positive signs of decreasing pressure in the artificial atmosphere around the settlements on t.i.tan. The pressure is dropping and yet there is no indication that the force screen, holding back the real methane ammonia atmosphere of t.i.tan, is not functioning properly."

"How about leaks?" Connel growled.

"Not possible, Major," replied the pretty physicist. "The force field, as you know, is made up of electronic impulses of pure energy. By shooting these impulses into the air around a certain area, like the settlement at Olympia, we can refract the methane ammonia, push it back if you will, like a solid wall. What the impulses do, actually, is create a force greater and thicker in content than the atmosphere of t.i.tan, creating a vacuum. We then introduce oxygen into the vacuum, making it possible for humans to live without the c.u.mbersome use of s.p.a.ce helmets." Dr. Dale leaned against Commander Walters' desk and considered the three Solar Guard officers. "If we don't find out what's happening out there," she resumed grimly, "and do something about it soon, we'll have to abandon t.i.tan."

"Abandon t.i.tan!" roared Connel. "Can't be done."

"Impossible!" snapped Walters.

"It's going to happen," a.s.serted the girl stoutly.

Connel sprang out of his chair and began pacing the floor. "We can't abandon t.i.tan!" he roared. "Disrupt the flow of crystal and you'll set off major repercussions in the system's economy."

"We know that, Major," said Walters. "That's the prime reason for this meeting."

"May I make a suggestion, sir?" asked Strong.

"Go ahead, Steve," said Walters.

"While these graphs of Joan's show us _what's_ happening, I think it will take on-the-spot investigations to find out _why_ it's happening."

Connel flopped back in his chair, relaxed again. He looked at Walters.

"Send Steve out there and we'll find out what's going on," he said confidently.

Walters looked at Strong. "When are the s.h.i.+ps supposed to blast off for the race?"

"Tomorrow at 1800, sir."

"You planned to use the _Polaris_ to monitor the race?"

"Yes, sir."

"Think we should send the _Polaris_ unit out alone?"

"I have a better suggestion, sir," said Strong.

"Well?"

"Since there are only three finalists, how about putting one cadet on each s.h.i.+p? Then I can take the _Polaris_ and go on out to t.i.tan now.

When the boys arrive, they could help me with my investigation."

Walters looked at Connel. "What do you think, Major?"

"Sounds all right to me," replied the veteran s.p.a.ceman. "If you think the companies won't object to having cadets monitor their race for them."

"They won't have anything to say about it," replied Walters. "I'd trust those cadets under any circ.u.mstances. And the race won't mean a thing unless we can find the source of trouble on t.i.tan. There won't be any crystal to haul."

"Fine," grunted Connel. He rose, nodded, and left the room. He was not being curt, he was being Connel. The problem had been temporarily solved and there was nothing else he could do. There were other things that demanded his attention.

"What about me going along too, Commander?" asked Joan.

"Better not, Joan," said Walters. "You're more valuable to us here in the Academy laboratory."

"Very well, sir," she said. "I have some work to finish, so I'll leave you now. Good luck, Steve." She shook hands with the young captain and left.

Walters turned back to Strong. "Well, now that's settled, tell me, what do you think of the race tomorrow, Steve?"

"If Kit Barnard gets that reactor of his functioning properly, he'll run away from the other two."

"I don't know," mused Walters. "Wild Bill Stic.o.o.n is a hot s.p.a.ceman. One of the best rocket jockeys I've ever seen. Did I ever tell you what we went through a few years back trying to get him to join the Solar Guard?" Walters laughed. "We promised him everything but the Moon. But he didn't want any part of us. 'Can't ride fast enough in your wagons, Commander,' he told me. Quite a boy!"

"And with Quent Miles in there, it's going to be a very hot race,"

a.s.serted Strong.

"Ummmmh," Walters grunted. "He's the unknown quant.i.ty. Did you see that s.h.i.+p of his? Never saw anything more streamlined in my whole life."

"And the cadets said he stripped her of everything but the hull plates."

"It paid off for him," said Walters. "He and Charley Brett are certainly working hard to get this contract."

"There's a lot of money involved, sir," said Strong. "But in any case we're bound to get a good schedule with the speeds established so far."