"End transmission."
Tom turned back to the skipper of the Space Lance with a feeling of despair. "I can't figure it out, Bill," he said. "Roger's pulled some boners before, real rocket blasters, but refusing to answer a call from Strong—" He shook his head.
The audioceiver suddenly crackled into life. "Space Knight to Space Lance, check in!" Quent Miles' voice was harsh and clear.
Tom jumped back to the microphone. "Space Lance, Cadet Corbett here!" he shouted eagerly. "Go ahead, Space Knight! Where's Manning?"
"Still asleep!" replied Miles. "Just wanted to tell you boys good-by. I'm not stopping to refuel at Deimos! I'm going right on through to Ganymede! End transmission!"
Only static filled the control deck of the Space Lance as Tom clutched the microphone and pleaded desperately for Quent Miles to answer him. "Come in, Miles! This is Corbett on the Space Lance to Quent Miles on the Space Knight! Come in, Miles! Come in!"
Bill Sticoon shook his head. "Miles must be nuts trying to get to Ganymede without refueling," he muttered. "Traveling at emergency space speed, he'll eat up his fuel before he gets one third of the way to Jupiter!"
Tom looked at Sticoon. "And Roger's with him."
Sticoon nodded grimly. "They'll wind up drifting around in space halfway between Mars and Jupiter. Finding them will be about as easy as looking for a pebble in the Martian desert."