At exactly 0800 hours the three cadets and Captain Strong appeared at the Academy spaceport dressed in the severe black tight-fitting trousers and jacket of merchant spacemen. Quietly eluding all friends and acquaintances, they entered the confiscated freighter that had been prepared for space flight during the night and began acquainting themselves with the ship's equipment.
When Astro reported the power deck ready and Roger cleared their course, Tom called the traffic-control tower for blast-off clearance.
"Take it easy on the first hop," said Strong. "There's no hurry and I want to be sure we get this crate off in one piece." Smiling confidently at the control-deck cadet, he turned away to his quarters. He was aware of the effect that being left alone had on the cadets. He had learned early in his associations with Tom, Roger, and Astro that they bore responsibility well, and a challenge to do a good job would assure him the job would be done efficiently.
"Stand by to raise ship!" Tom's voice crackled confidently over the ship's intercom.
Strong sat on an acceleration cushion and strapped himself in. He heard Tom's voice counting off the seconds for blast-off.
"... Five—four—three—two—one—zero."
As the rockets burst into a loud roar, the freighter lurched from the ground and thundered up into the atmosphere, pushing Strong deep into his acceleration cushion. Minutes later, he felt the freedom of free-fall space. In a strange ship, the Polaris crew had begun a strange mission.