CHAPTER 4
The first three weeks of an Earthworm's life at Space Academy are filled with never-ending physical training and conditioning to meet the rigors of rocket flight and life on distant planets. And under the grueling pressure of fourteen-hour days, filled with backbreaking exercises and long forced marches, very few of the boys can find anything more desirable than sleep—and more sleep.
Under this pressure the friction in Unit 42-D became greater and greater. Roger and Astro continually needled each other with insults, and Tom gradually slipped into the role of arbiter.
Returning from a difficult afternoon of endless marching in the hot sun with the prospect of an evening of free-fall wrestling before them, the three cadets dragged themselves wearily onto the slidestairs leading to their quarters, their muscles screaming for rest.
"Another day like this," began Astro listlessly, "and I'm going to melt down to nothing. Doesn't McKenny have a heart?"
"No, just an asteroid," Tom grumbled. "He'll never know how close he came to getting a space boot in the face when he woke us up this morning. Oh, man! Was I tired!"
"Stop complaining, will you?" snarled Roger. "All I've heard from you two space crawlers is gripes and complaints."
"If I wasn't so tired, Roger," said Astro, "I'd give you something to gripe about. A flat lip!"
"Knock it off, Astro," said Tom wearily. The role of keeping them apart was getting tiresome.
"The trouble with you, Astro," pursued Roger, "is that you think with your muscles instead of your head."