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While the lack of atmosphere outside had dissipated the full force of the blast, the effect on the inside of the ship, where Earth's air pressure was maintained, was devastating. Whole banks of delicate machinery were torn from the walls and scattered over the decks. The precision instruments of the inner hull showed no signs of leakage, and the oxygen-circulating machinery could still function on an auxiliary power hookup.

Completing the quick survey of the ship, Major Connel realized that they would never be able to continue their flight to Venus and instructed Roger to contact the nearest Solar Guard patrol ship to pick them up.

"The Polaris will have to be left in space," continued Connel, "and a maintenance crew will be sent out to see if she can be repaired. If they decide it isn't worth the labor, they'll junk her here in space."

The faces of the three cadets fell.

"But there's no real damage on her power deck, sir," said Astro. "And the hull is in good shape, except for the stabilizer fin and some of the stern plates. Why, sometimes a green Earthworm unit will crack a fin on their first touchdown."

"And the radar deck can be patched up easy, sir," spoke up Roger. "With some new tubes and a few rolls of wire I could have her back in shape in no time."

"That goes for the control deck, too!" said Tom doggedly. Then, after a quick glance at his unit mates, he faced Connel squarely. "I think it goes without saying, sir, that we'd appreciate it very much if you could recommend that she be restored instead of junked."

Connel allowed himself a smile in the face of such obvious love for the ship. "You forget that to repair her out in space, the parts have to be hauled from Venus. But I'll see what I can do. Meantime, Roger, see if you can't get that patrol ship to give us a lift to Venusport. Tell the C.O. I'm aboard and on urgent official business."

"Yes, sir," said Roger.

"And," continued the spaceman, noticing the downcast looks of Tom and Astro, "it wouldn't hurt if you two started repairing as much as you can. So when the maintenance crew arrives, they won't find her in such a mess."

"Yes, sir!" chorused the two cadets happily.

Connel returned to his quarters and sat down heavily in the remains of his bunk, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Somehow, word had gotten out that he was going to check on the secret organization on Venus and someone had made a bold and desperate attempt to stop him before he could get started. It infuriated him to think that anyone would interrupt official business. As far as Connel was concerned, nothing came before official business. And he was doubly furious at the danger to the three cadets, who had innocently hitched a ride on what was almost a death ship. Someone was going to pay, Connel vowed, clenching his huge fists—and pay dearly.

CHAPTER 4

"Yeeooowww!"

Roaring with jubilation and jumping high in the air at every other step, Astro raced out of the gigantic maintenance hangar at the Venusport spaceport and charged at his two unit mates waiting on the concrete apron.

"Everything's O.K.," he yelled, throwing his arms around them. "The Polaris is going to be brought in for full repairs! I just saw the audiograph report from the maintenance chief!"

Tom and Roger broke into loud cheers and pounded each other on the back.

"Great Jupiter," gasped Roger, "I feel as though I've been sitting up with a sick friend!"

"Your friend's going to make a full recovery," asserted Astro.

"Did you see Major Connel?" asked Tom.

"Yeah," said Astro. "I think he had a lot to do with it. I saw him talking to the head maintenance officer."

"Well, now that we've sweated the old girl through the crisis," asserted Roger, "how's about us concentrating on our vacation?"

"Great," agreed Tom. "This is your party, Astro. Lead the way."

The three cadets left the spaceport in a jet cab and rode happily into the city of Venusport. As they slid along the superhighway toward the first and largest of the Venusian cities, Astro pointed out the sights. Like slim fingers of glass,