"Yeow!"
Astro's bull-like roar echoed through the Good Company. Tom and Kit jumped around in their seats to stare dumfounded at the half-stripped cadet climbing through the hatch into the power deck, followed by Sid. Sweating, his body streaked with grease, the belt of rocketman's tools swinging from his hips, Astro pounded the two spacemen on the back. "We did it!" he roared, turning to hug Sid who was equally grimy and naked to the waist.
"Did what?" demanded Kit.
"You know that by-pass feeder you said wouldn't hold a pressure of more than D-18 rate?" said Astro eagerly.
When Kit nodded, Astro roared triumphantly, "Well, it'll hold more than D-18 rate now!"
"What do you mean?" demanded Kit.
Astro's involved and detailed reply in engineering terms was almost gibberish to Tom, but he understood enough of the unit construction to sense that Astro had done something extraordinary.
"And he did it all himself, too," said Sid quietly. "I didn't do any more than hold the tools."
"But I still don't understand," protested Kit. "The by-pass won't take more than D-18."
"We built another one," said Astro proudly. "Since you were making a small unit, you naturally built a small by-pass feeder. We made a big one." Astro grinned. "I admit that it looks a little lopsided, with that tank joint on the side nearly twice as big as the whole cooling unit, but if you'll cut your motors and give me fifteen minutes to change that line, I'll give you a reactant feed at D-30 rate."