Connel stepped back, fists on his hips, eying the three cadets. He had heard about their difficulty in fitting personalities together when they had first arrived at Space Academy (as described in Stand By for Mars!). And he had heard about their triumph over the Martian desert. He was impressed with everything he had learned about them, but he knew that he had a reputation for being tough and that this reputation usually brought out the best in cadets. Early in his long and brilliant career he had learned that his life depended on the courage and ingenuity of his fellow spacemen. When he became an instructor at the Academy, he had determined that no cadet would ever be anything but the best, and that, when they blasted off in later years, they could be depended on.
He looked at the three cadets and felt a tinge of excitement that did not show on his scowling face. "Yes," he thought, "they'll make spacemen. It'll take a little time—but they're good material."
"Now listen to this!" he bawled. "We blast off for the Venus space station in exactly thirty minutes. Get your gear aboard the Polaris and stand by to raise ship." He dropped his voice and pushed out his jaw a little farther. "This will be the toughest journey you'll ever make. You'll either come back spacemen, or you'll come back nothing. I'm going to try my best to make it"—he paused and added coldly—"nothing! Because if you can't take it from me, then you don't belong in space! Unit dis-missed!"
He turned on his heel and disappeared up the slidestairs without another look at the three rigid cadets.
"Yeah—we'll educate him, all right," said Astro softly, with a wink at Tom. "Make him think he's done everything for us."
"Ah, go blast your jets!" snarled Roger after he had found his voice.
"Come on," said Tom. "Let's get the Polaris ready. And, fellows, I mean ready!"
Bill Loring and Al Mason stood near the entrance to the control tower of the Academy spaceport and watched the three cadets of the Polaris scramble into the giant rocket cruiser.
"Every time I think about that Connel kicking us out of space for twelve months I wanta pound his head in with a wrench!" snarled Loring.
Mason snorted. "Well, what's the use of hanging around here?" he asked. "That Connel wouldn't have us aboard the Polaris, even if we were cleared and had our papers. There ain't a thing we can do!"