"We're about twenty minutes late," he said to Roger and Astro. "Hope Captain Strong's in good spirits!"
"If he isn't," said Roger, "we can—"
"Don't say it," protested Astro. "I only just finished working off my last bunch of galley demerits."
They stopped in front of a door, straightened their uniforms, and then slid the door to one side and stepped smartly into the room. They came to rigid attention before a massive desk, flanked by two wall windows of clear sheet crystal reaching from ceiling to floor. Standing at the window, Captain Steve Strong, Polaris unit cadet supervisor, his broad shoulders stretching under his black-and-gold uniform, turned to face them, his features set in grim lines of trouble.
"Polaris unit reporting for orders, sir," said Tom. The three cadets saluted crisply.
Strong snapped a return salute and walked to the front of his desk. "Getting pretty big for your britches, aren't you?" he growled. "I've been watching you from this window. I saw the messenger deliver my orders to you, and then, I saw you return to your game and finish it, apparently deciding that the business of the Solar Guard can wait!"
"But, sir—" Roger started to say.
"Close your exhaust, Manning!" snapped Strong. "I'm doing the talking!"
"Yes, sir," stammered the blond-haired cadet.
"Well, Cadets," asked Strong in a silken voice, "if I sent you to Commander Walters' office on the double, do you think I could trust you to get there on the double?"