“Roger Manning here,” he presented himself smoothly.
“Is that your luggage?” Herbert jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
“It is.”
Roger smiled confidently, but Herbert merely stared coldly.
“You have a peculiar attitude for a candidate, Manning.”
“Is there a prescribed attitude, Mr. Herbert?” Roger asked, his smile broadening. “If there is, I’ll be only too glad to conform to it.”
Herbert’s face twitched almost imperceptibly. Then he nodded, made a notation on a pad and returned to his post at the head of the gaping line of boys. “From now on, Candidate Manning, you will be responsible for your own belongings.”
Tom, Astro, and Philip Morgan stepped on the slidestairs and began their spiraling ascent to the forty-second floor.
“I saw what happened at the monorail station,” drawled the third member of Section 42-D, leaning against the bannister of the moving belt. “By the craters of Luna, that Manning felluh sure is a hot operator.”
“We found out for ourselves,” grunted Astro.
“Say, since we’re all bunkin’ togethuh, let’s get to knowin’ each othuh. My name’s Phil Morgan, come from Georgia. Where you all from?”
“New Chicago,” replied Tom. “Name’s Tom Corbett. And this is Astro.”
“Hiya.” Astro stuck out a big paw and grinned his wide grin. “I guess you heard. Astro’s all the name I’ve got.”
“How come?” inquired the Southerner.
“I’m from Venus and it’s a custom from way back when Venus was first colonized to just hand out one name.”
“Funny custom,” drawled Phil.
Astro started to say something and then stopped, clamping his lips together. Tom could see his face turn a slow pink. Phil saw it too, and hastily added:
“Oh—I didn’t mean anything. I—ah—” he broke off, embarrassed.
“Forget it, Phil.” Astro grinned again.
“Say,” interjected Tom. “Look at that!”
They all turned to look at the floor they were passing. Near the edge of the step-off platform on the fourth floor was an oaken panel, inscribed with silver lettering in relief. As they drew even with the plaque, they caught sight of someone behind them. They turned to see Manning, the pile of suitcases in front of him, reading aloud.
“… to the brave men who sacrificed their lives in the conquest of space, this Galaxy Hall is dedicated. …”
“Say, this must be the museum,” said Tom. “Here’s where they have all the original gear used in the first space hops.”
“Absolutely right,” said Manning with a smile.
“I wonder if we could get off and take a look?” Astro asked.
“Sure you can,” said Roger. “In fact, the Academy regs say every cadet must inspect the exhibits in the space museum within the first week.”
The members of Section 42-D looked at Roger questioningly.
“I don’t know if we have time.” Tom was dubious.
“Sure you have—plenty. I’d hop off and take a look myself but I’ve got to get this junk ready to ship home.” He indicated the pile of bags in front of him.
“Aw, come on, Tom, let’s take a look!” urged Astro. “They have the old Space Queen in here, the first ship to clear Earth’s gravity. Boy, I’d sure like to see her!” Without waiting for the others to agree, the huge candidate stepped off the slidestairs.
“Hey, Astro!” yelled Tom. “Wait! I don’t think—” His voice trailed off as the moving stair carried him up to the next floor.
But then a curious thing happened. As other boys came abreast of the museum floor and saw Astro they began to get off and follow him, wandering around gazing at the relics of the past.
Soon nearly half of the cadet candidates were standing in silent awe in front of the battered hull of the Space Queen, the first atomic-powered rocket ship allowed on exhibition only fifty years before because of the deadly radioactivity in her hull, created when a lead baffle melted in midspace and flooded the ship with murderous gamma rays.
They stood in front of the spaceship and listened while Astro, in a hushed voice, read the inscription on the bronze tablet.
“—Earth to Luna and return. 7th March 2051. In honor of the brave men of the first atomic-powered spaceship to land successfully on the planet Moon, only to perish on return to Earth. …”
“Candidates—staaaaaaaaannnnnd too!”
Like a clap of thunder Warrant Officer McKenny’s voice jarred the boys out of their silence. He stepped forward like a bantam rooster and faced the startled group of boys.
“I wanna know just one thing! Who stepped off that slidestairs first?”
The boys all hesitated.
“I guess I was the first, sir,” said Astro, stepping forward.
“Oh, you guess you were, eh?” roared McKenny.
Taking a deep breath McKenny launched into a blistering tirade. His choice of words were to be long remembered by the group and repeated to succeeding classes. Storming against the huge Venusian like a pygmy attacking an elephant, McKenny roared, berated and blasted.
Later, when Astro finally reached his quarters and changed into the green coveralls of the cadet candidates, Tom and Phil crowded around him.
“It was Roger, blast him!” said Tom angrily. “He was getting back at you because Cadet Herbert made him carry his own gear.”
“I asked for it,” grumbled Astro. “Ah, I should’ve known better. But I just couldn’t wait to see the Queen.” He balled his huge hands into tight knots and stared at the floor.
“Now hear this!!!”
A voice suddenly rasped over the P.A. system loud-speaker above the door. “All cadet candidates will come to attention to receive the Space Academy oath from Commander Walters.” The voice paused. “At-tent-shun! Cadet candidates—Staaaaannnnd to!”
“This is Commander Walters speaking!” A deep, powerful voice purred through the speaker. “The Academy oath is taken individually.
“It is something each candidate locks in his spirit, his mind and his heart. That is why it is taken in your quarters. The oath is not a show of color, it is a way of life. Each candidate will face as closely as possible in the direction of his home and swear by his own individual God as he repeats after me.”
Astro stepped quickly to the window port and gazed into the blue heavens,
