Tom, Roger, and Astro crowded to the viewport in Strong's command shack to watch the bulky Martian's ship take to space. With Sticoon at the controls, there was no hesitation. He gave the ship full throttle from the moment of blast-off and in three seconds was out of sight. There wasn't much to see at such speed.
The three members of the Polaris unit left the shack to return to their task of inspection. They passed the maintenance hangar where Kit Barnard was readying his ship for blast-off in the next half hour.
"Any last-minute hitches, Kit?" asked Astro, vitally interested in the new reactor unit and its cooling system.
Kit smiled wearily and shook his head. "All set!"
"Good." Tom smiled. "We'll try to be back before you blast. We've got to check Quent Miles' ship now."
As the three cadets approached the sleek black vessel with its distinctive markings, the air lock opened and Quent Miles stepped out on the ladder.
"It's about time you three jerks showed up," he sneered. "I have to blast off in twenty minutes! What's the idea of messing around with that Barnard creep? He hasn't got a chance, anyway."
"Is that so?" snapped Roger. "Listen—!"
"Roger!" barked Tom warningly.
Quent grinned. "That's right. Lay off, buster. Get to your inspecting and let a spaceman blast off."