throttles. Oscar sat down in the co-pilot's chair and opened the log to the page of the last entry. He took a stub of pencil
that he had found in the galley, wet it in his mouth, entered the date, and wrote in a large hand:
He paused and said to Matt, 'I still think we ought to shift the command.'
'Stow it,' said Matt. 'If Commodore Arkwright can command the Randolph with his lights gone, you can command the Tart with a busted wing.'
'Okay, if that's the way you want it.' He continued to write,
O. Jensen, acting captain
M. Dodson, pilot and astrogator
W. Jarman, chief engineer
Lt. R. Thiwlow, passenger (sick list)
G. Burke, passenger, civilian (prisoner)
'Muster the crew, Mister.'
'Aye aye, sir. Call your name, too, Oz?'
'Sure, its a short list as it is.'
'How about Stinky?'
'Of course not! I've got him billed as cargo.'
Matt took a deep breath and, speaking close to the speaking tube so that Tex could hear, called out: 'Lieutenant Thurlow!'
Oscar replied, 'I answer for him.' He glanced back at the lieutenant, strapped in the inspector's rest where they could keep an eye on him.
Thurlow opened his eyes with the puzzled, questioning look he always showed on the rare occasions when he seemed to be aware of anything.
'Jensen!'
'Here.'
'Jarman!'
'Here!' Tex called back, his voice muffled and hollow through the tube.
Matt said, 'Dodson present,' then wet his lips and hesitated.
'Dahlquiist!'
Oscar was about to reply when Thurlow's voice came from behind them: 'I answer for him.'
'Martin!' Matt went on mechanically, too startled to stop,
'I answer for him,' said Oscar, his eyes on Thurlow.
'Rivera!'
'I answer for him,' came Tex's voice.
'Wheeler!'
'Wheeler's here too,' Tex answered again. 'They're all here, Matt. We're ready.'
'Complement complete, Captain;'
'Very well, sir.'
'How is he, Oz?'
'He's closed his eyes again. Raise ship when ready.'
'Aye aye, sir. According to plan-raise ship. He grasped the wing controls and waited. The Astarte reared on her belly jets, drove up and forward and into the mists of Venus.
XVIII IN THE COMMANDANT'S OFFICE
PASSED CADETS Dodson and Jarman, freshly detached from the P.R.S. Pegasus, at Terra Station out from New Auckland, climbed out of the Randolph's scooter and into the Randolph herself. Cadet Jensen was not with them; Oscar, on despatch authorization from the Academy, had been granted six months for leave at home, with the understanding that he would be ordered to temporary duty in the course of it, to accompany the first consul to the equatorial regions to his station and assist in establishing liaison. Matt and Tex showed their orders to the officer of the watch and left with him the inevitable copies. He gave them their rooming assignments-in Hog Alley, in a room with a different number but otherwise like the one they had had. 'Seems like we never left it,' remarked Tex, as he unpacked his jump bag.
'Except it seems funny not to have Oz and Pete around.' j
'Yeah, I keep expecting Oz to stick his head in and ask if we'd like to team up with him and Pete.'
The room phone sounded, Tex answered.
'Cadet Jarman?'
'Speaking.'
'The Commandant's compliments-you are to report to his office at once.'
'Aye aye, sir.' He switched off and continued to Matt. 'They don't waste much time, do they?' He looked thoughtful and added, 'You know what I think?'
'Maybe I can guess.'
'Well, this quick service looks promising. And we did do quite a job, Matt. There's no getting around to it.'
'I guess so. Bringing in the Astarte, a hundred and eight years overdue, was something-even if we had dragged it in on wheels it still would be something. I won't start calling you 'Lieutenant' just yet, but-he might commission us.'
'Keep your fingers crossed. How do I look?'
'You aren't pretty, but you look nineteen times better than you did when we grounded at South Pole. Better get moving.'
'Right.' Tex left and Matt waited nervously. Presently the call he expected came in, telling him, too, to report to the Commandant.
He found that Tex was still inside. Rather than fidget under the eyes of others in the Commandant's outer office, he chose to wait in the passageway. After a while, Tex came out. Matt went up to him eagerly. 'How about it?'
Tex gave him an odd look. 'Just go on in.'
'You can't talk?'
'We'll talk later. Go on in.'
'Cadet Dodson!' someone called from the outer office.
'On deck,' he called back. A couple of moments later he was in the presence of the Commandant.
'Cadet Dodson, reporting as ordered, sir.'
The Commandant turned his face toward him and Matt felt again the eerie feeling that Commodore Arkwright could see him better than could an ordinary, sighted man. 'Oh,
yes, Mr. Dodson. At ease.' The elder Patrolman reached unerringly for a clip on his desk. 'I've been looking over your record. You've made up your deficiency in astrogation and supplemented it with a limited amount .of practical work. Captain Yancey seems to approve of you, on the whole, but notes that you are sometimes absent-minded, with a tendency to become pre-occupied with one duty to the expense of others. I don't find that very serious-in a young man.'
'Thank you, sir.'
'It was not a compliment, just an observation. Now tell me, what would you do if-' Forty-five minutes later Matt caught his breath sufficiently to realize that he had been subjected to a very searching examination. He had come into the Commandant's office feeling nine feet tall, four feet wide, and completely covered with hair. The feeling had passed.
The Commandant paused for a moment as if thinking, then went on, 'When will you be ready to be commissioned, Mr. Dodson?'
Matt strangled a bit, then managed to answer, 'I don't know, sir. Three or four years, perhaps.'
'I think a year should suffice, if you apply yourself. I'm sending you down to Hayworth Hall. You can catch the shuttle from the Station this afternoon.
'The usual delay for leave, of course,' he added.
'That's fine, sir!'
