Part 36 (1/2)

”I believe,” said Alfie emphatically, ”that you're jos.h.i.+ng me, Manning.”

”Now, whatever gave you that idea?” asked Roger in a hurt tone.

”This _is_ a serious situation, isn't it?” asked Alfie, looking at Astro.

”It sure is, Alfie,” said Astro soberly, ”and I'm the first one to say I'm a little scared!”

Alfie smiled. ”I'm very glad you said that, Astro,” he said, ”because I feel exactly the same way!” He turned and walked back to Major Connel.

”What was the idea of telling him that?” hissed Roger at Astro. ”What are you trying to do? Get the little guy s.p.a.ce happy, or something?”

”Look at him!” said Astro. ”I'm twice his size. He figures if a big guy like me is scared, then he's got a right to be scared too!”

Roger grunted in appreciation of the way Astro had treated Alfie's fears and turned back to the loading of the fuel.

Major Connel walked over and watched them transfer the last of the fuel into the tanks.

”How much have you got there, Astro?” he asked.

”I'd say enough to sustain flight for about three hours, sir.

Considering we'll have such a big load.”

”Ummmmh,” mused Connel. ”You know we're up against big odds, don't you?”

Roger and Astro nodded.

”If Tom doesn't come back soon, we'll be so far into the pull of the sun, even a s.h.i.+p the size of the _Polaris_ wouldn't be able to break out.”

”How much time have we got, sir?” asked Roger.

”Not too much, Manning,” said Connel. ”Of course we can blast off in the jet boat and get up a few hundred miles, in case Tom does come back.

Then he won't have to bring the _Polaris_ down here. But if time runs out on us up there, we'll have to come back and take our chance on Junior being blasted out of the sun's grip.”

There was a pause while Astro and Roger considered this.

”That would mean,” asked Roger, ”that we'd be here when the reactor units go off, wouldn't it, sir?”

”That's right, Manning,” said Connel, admitting to the danger. ”Even if Junior were blasted out of the pull of the sun, we couldn't survive the explosions.”

”Couldn't we blast off in the jet boat and then land after the explosions, sir?” asked Astro.

”Yes,” admitted Connel, ”we could do that. But the radioactivity would be so powerful we couldn't last more than a few days. We have no antiradiation gear. Not even food or water.” He paused and scanned the sky. ”No,” he said in a surprisingly casual voice, ”the only way we can get out of this is for Tom to come back and get us.”

s.h.i.+nny and Alfie came over and joined the group around the jet boat. No one said anything. There wasn't anything to say. Each of them felt the heat burning through his s.p.a.ce suit. Each felt the same fear tugging at his throat. There was nothing to say. The _Polaris_ was not to be seen; the sky was empty of everything except Alpha Centauri, the great burning ma.s.s of gases that once they had all seen only as a quiet twinkling star in the heavens, never dreaming that someday it would be pulling them relentlessly into its molten self.

Tom Corbett had a plan.

He sat at the control board of the great rocket cruiser, apparently watching the needles and gauges on the panel, but his mind was racing desperately. The two-hour deadline had just pa.s.sed. The great solar clock had swung its red hand past the last second. Only a miracle could save the five men on Junior now. But Tom was not counting on miracles.

He was counting on his plan.