"Spaceport control to Polaris," the voice of the tower operator replied. "You are cleared for blast-off in two minutes. Take out—orbit 75 ... repeat ... 75...."
"Polaris to spaceport control. Orders received and understood. End transmission!"
Tom then turned his attention to the station check.
"Control deck to radar deck. Check in."
"Radar deck, aye! Ready to raise ship." Roger's voice was relaxed, easy.
Tom turned to the board to adjust the teleceiver screen for a clear picture of the stern of the ship. Gradually it came up in as sharp detail as if he had been standing on the ground.
He checked the electric timing device in front of him that ticked off the seconds, as a red hand crawled around to zero, and when it swept down to the thirty-second mark, Tom pulled the microphone to his lips again. "Control deck to power deck. Check in!"
"Power deck, aye?"
"Energize the cooling pumps!"
"Cooling pumps, aye!" repeated Astro.