nd make a final circle around Titan
when you arrive.

"Stand by to raise ship! And spaceman's luck!"

Strong turned and flipped on the intercom to the control tower. "All
ready up there?" he called.

"All set, sir," replied the enlisted spaceman.

"All right, give them their orbits and blast-off time."

There was a slight pause, and then the gruff voice of the tower operator
was heard over the loud-speakers and in the ships. "All ships will blast
off on orbit forty-one ... raise ship at 18:51:35 ... stand by!"

There was a tense moment of silence while the seconds on the red hand of
the astral chronometer slipped around the dial. Out on the field, the
three ships were pointed toward the darkening afternoon skies. The first
ship, nearest the tower, was Wild Bill Sticoon's ship, the _Space
Lance_, painted a gleaming white. Strong could see Tom sitting beside
the viewport, and across the distance that separated them, the Solar
Guard officer could see the curly-haired cadet wave. He returned the
greeting.

Next was the black ship with the red markings that had aroused so much
comment. Strong searched the viewports for a sight of Roger but could
not see him. Finally he looked over at Kit Barnard's red-painted _Good
Company_. He knew Astro would be on the power deck, preferring to nurse
the reactor than watch the blast-off.

And then Strong was conscious of the tower operator counting off the
seconds. He would pick it up at ten minus. He gripped the intercom mike
as Mike's voice droned in his ears.

" ... fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten...."

"Stand by to raise ships!" bawled Strong. He watched the sweep hand on
the chronometer. "Blast off, minus five, four, three, two, one--_zero!_"

There was really very little to see. The three ships left Earth in a
giant upheaval of thunderous noise and blazing red exhaust flames. The
roar of the crowds was lost in the explosions of the rockets. And the
greatest race in space was underway.

Strong raced up to the control tower and stood in front of the radar
scanner to watch the course of the three vessels now blasting through
the atmosphere. They were three white blips on the green surface of the
glass scope, in perfect line, traveling at incredible speeds.

Strong turned to the enlisted spaceman. "Contact the ships and see if
everything's all right," he ordered.

"Very well, sir," replied the spaceman, turning to the audioceiver
microphone.

"Spacepor