Tom and Astro were silent, thinking about the truth in Roger's words. Roger walked slowly across the deck and stood in front of them defiantly.
"You were counting on the ship being spotted by Captain Strong or part of a supposed searching party! Ha! What makes you think three cadets are so important that the Solar Guard will take time out to look for us? And if they do come looking for us, the only thing left up there now"—he pointed his finger over his head—"is a pile of sand like any other sand dune on this crummy planet. We're stuck, Corbett, so lay off that last chance, do-or-die routine. I've been eating glory all my life. If I do have to splash in now, I want it to be on my own terms. And that's to just sit here and wait for it to come. And if they pin the Medal—the Solar Medal—on me, I'm going to be up there where all good spacemen go, having the last laugh, when they put my name alongside my father's!"
"Your father's?" asked Tom bewilderedly.
"Yeah, my father. Kenneth Rogers Manning, Captain in the Solar Guard. Graduate of Space Academy, class of 2329, killed while on duty in space, June 2335. Awarded the Solar Medal posthumously. Leaving a widow and one son, me!"
Astro and Tom looked at each other dumfounded.
"Surprised, huh?" Roger's voice grew bitter. "Maybe that clears up a few things for you. Like why I never missed on an exam. I never missed because I've lived with Academy textbooks since I was old enough to read. Or why I wanted the radar deck instead of the control deck. I didn't want to have to make a decision! My father had to make a decision once. As skipper and pilot of the ship he decided to save a crewman's life. He died saving a bum, a no good space-crawling rat!"
Tom and Astro sat stupefied at Roger's bitter tirade. He turned away from them and gave a short laugh.
"I've lived with only one idea in my head since I was big enough to know why other kids had fathers to play ball with them and I didn't. To get into the Academy, get the training and then get out and cash in! Other kids had fathers. All I had was a lousy hunk of gold, worth exactly five hundred credits! A Solar Medal. And my mother! Trying to scrape by on a lousy pension that was only enough to keep us going, but not enough to get me the extra things other kids had. It couldn't bring back my father!"
"That night—in Galaxy Hall, when you were crying—?" asked Tom.
"So eavesdropping is one of your talents too, eh, Corbett?" asked Roger sarcastically.