"You mean, sir—" began Tom, not daring to hope.
"Of course, Corbett," smiled Strong. "Take your stations for blast-off. We raise ship as soon as we get orbital clearance from spaceport control!"
Without waiting for further orders, the three boys scurried to their stations.
Soon the muffled whine of the energizing pumps on the power deck began to ring through the ship, along with the steady beep of the radar scanner on the radar bridge. Tom checked the maze of gauges and dials on the control board. Air locks, hatches, oxygen supply, circulating system, circuits, and feeds. In five minutes the two-hundred-foot shining steel hull was a living thing as her rocket motors purred, warming up for the initial thrust.
Tom made a last sweeping check of the complicated board and turned to Captain Strong who stood to one side watching.
"Ship ready to blast off, sir," he announced. "Shall I check stations and proceed to raise ship?"
"Carry on, Cadet Corbett," Strong replied. "Log yourself in as skipper with me along as supercargo. I'll ride in the second pilot's chair."
Tom snapped a sharp salute and added vocally, "Aye, aye, sir!"
He turned back to the control board, strapped himself into the command pilot's seat and opened the circuit to the spaceport control tower.
"Rocket cruiser Polaris to spaceport control," he droned into the microphone. "Check in!"