Carrying Manning’s luggage as well as their own, they finally stepped on the slidewalk and began the smooth easy ride from the monorail station to the Academy. Both having felt the sharpness of Manning’s tongue, and both having been dressed down by Warrant Officer McKenny, they seemed to be linked by a bond of trouble and they stood close together for mutual comfort.
As the slidewalk whisked them silently past the few remaining buildings and credit exchanges that nestled around the monorail station, Tom gave thought to his new life.
Ever since Jon Builker, the space explorer, returning from the first successful flight to a distant galaxy, came through his home town near New Chicago twelve years before, Tom had wanted to be a spaceman. Through high school and the New Chicago Primary Space School where he had taken his first flight above Earth’s atmosphere, he had waited for the day when he would pass his entrance exams and be accepted as a cadet candidate in Space Academy. For no reason at all, a lump rose in his throat, as the slidewalk rounded a curve and he saw for the first time, the gleaming white magnificence of the Tower of Galileo. He recognized it immediately from the hundreds of books he had read about the Academy and stared wordlessly.
“Sure is pretty, isn’t it?” asked Astro, his voice strangely husky.
“Yeah,” breathed Tom in reply. “It sure is.” He could only stare at the shimmering tower ahead.
“It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do,” said Tom at length. “Just get out there and—be free!”
“I know what you mean. It’s the greatest feeling in the world.”
“You say that as if you’ve already been up there.”
Astro grinned. “Yup. Used to be an enlisted space sailor. Bucked rockets in an old freighter on the Luna City—Venusport run.”
“Well, what are you doing here?” Tom was amazed and impressed.
“Simple. I want to be an officer. I want to get into the Solar Guard and handle the power-push in one of those cruisers.”
Tom’s eyes glowed with renewed admiration for his new friend. “I’ve been out four or five times but only in jet boats five hundred miles out. Nothing like a jump to Luna City or Venusport.”
By now the slidewalk had carried them past the base of the Tower of Galileo to a large building facing the Academy quadrangle and the spell was broken by McKenny’s bull-throated roar.
“Haul off, you blasted polliwogs!”
As the boys jumped off the slidewalk, a cadet, dressed in the vivid blue that Tom recognized as the official dress of the Senior Cadet Corps, walked up to McKenny and spoke to him quietly. The warrant officer turned back to the waiting group and gave rapid orders.
“By twos, follow Cadet Herbert inside and he’ll assign you to your quarters. Shower, shave if you have to and can find anything to shave, and dress in the uniform that’ll be supplied you. Be ready to take the Academy oath at”—he paused and glanced at the senior cadet who held up three fingers—“fifteen hundred hours. That’s three o’clock. All clear? Blast off!”
Just as the boys began to move, there was a sudden blasting roar in the distance. The noise expanded and rolled across the hills surrounding Space Academy. It thundered over the grassy quadrangle, vibrating waves of sound one on top of the other, until the very air quivered under the impact.
Mouths open, eyes popping, the cadet candidates stood rooted in their tracks and stared as, in the distance, a long, thin, needlelike ship seemed to balance delicately on a column of flame, then suddenly shoot skyward and disappear.
“Pull in your eyeballs!” McKenny’s voice crackled over the receding thunder. “You’ll fly one of those firecrackers some day. But right now you’re Earthworms, the lowest form of animal life in the Academy!”
As the boys snapped to attention again, Tom thought he caught a faint smile on Cadet Herbert’s face as he stood to one side waiting for McKenny to finish his tirade. Suddenly he snapped his back straight, turned sharply and stepped through the wide doors of the building. Quickly the double line of boys followed.
“Did you see that, Astro?” asked Tom excitedly. “That was a Solar Guard patrol ship!”
“Yeah, I know,” replied Astro. The big candidate from Venus scratched his chin and eyed Tom bashfully. “Say, Tom—ah, since we sort of know each other, how about us trying to get in the same quarters?”
“OK by me, Astro, if we can,” said Tom, grinning back at his friend.
The line pressed forward to Cadet Herbert, who was now waiting at the bottom of the slidestairs, a mesh belt that spiraled upward in a narrow well to the upper stories of the building. Speaking into an audioscriber, a machine that transmitted his spoken words into typescript, he repeated the names of the candidates as they passed.
“Cadet Candidate Tom Corbett,” announced Tom, and Herbert repeated it into the audioscriber.
“Cadet Candidate Astro!” The big Venusian stepped forward.
“What’s the rest of it, Mister?” inquired Herbert.
“That’s all. Just Astro.”
“No other names?”
“No, sir,” replied Astro. “You see—”
“You don’t say ‘sir’ to a senior cadet, Mister. And we’re not interested in why you have only one name!” Herbert snapped.
“Yes, sir—uhh—Mister.” Astro flushed and joined Tom.
“Cadet Candidate Philip Morgan,” announced the next boy.
Herbert repeated the name into the machine, then announced, “Cadet Candidates Tom Corbett, Astro, and Philip Morgan assigned to Section 42-D.”
Turning to the three boys, he indicated the spiraling slidestairs. “Forty-second floor. You’ll find Section D in the starboard wing.”
Astro and Tom immediately began to pile Manning’s luggage to one side of the slidestairs.
“Take your luggage with you, Misters!” snapped Herbert.
“It isn’t ours,” replied Tom.
“Isn’t yours?” Herbert glanced over the pile of suitcases and turned back to Tom. “Whose is it then?”
“Belongs to Cadet Candidate Roger Manning,” replied Tom.
“What are you doing with it?”
“We were carrying it for him.”
“Do we have a candidate in the group who finds it necessary to provide himself with valet service?”
Herbert moved along the line of boys.
“Will Cadet Candidate Roger Manning please step forward?”
Roger slid
