nderstand why Governor Hardy would make him lieutenant
governor, with his background," mused Tom.

Jeff grinned. "You three guys have been jockeying with so many space
crawlers since you came to the Academy, you're suspicious of everyone
you meet. I'm surprised you haven't decided that I'm an arch space
criminal myself!"

The three cadets smiled. Jeff Marshall was so gentle and mild, his
manner so quietly humorous, it was impossible to picture him as any kind
of a criminal.

During the few minutes they had left, they casually discussed the
chances of the senior space cadets against the enlisted guardsmen in a
forthcoming mercuryball game, and then went up to the forward
compartment of the _Polaris_, which served as a temporary observatory
for Professor Sykes.

The Chief Astrophysicist of Space Academy, Professor Barnard Sykes, was
a man of great talent and even greater temper. Referred to as Barney by
the cadet corps, he was held in high regard and downright fear. There
were few cadets who had escaped his scathing tongue when they had made a
mistake and practically the entire student body had, at one time or
another, singly and in unison, devoutly wished that a yawning hole would
open up and swallow them when he began one of his infamous tirades. Even
perfection in studies and execution by a cadet would receive a mere
grunt from the cantankerous professor. Such temperament was permissible
at the Academy by an instructor only because of his genius and for no
other reason. And Professor Sykes fitted the bill. It was by sheer
devotion to his work and single-mindedness of purpose that he was able
to become a leading scientist in his field. Professor Sykes had been
assigned, at his request, to the Roald expedition. As the leading
scientist, it was his job to evaluate every new discovery made during
the trip out to the distant satellite, and later make observations on
the colony itself. Scientifically, and in a sense ultimately, the
success or failure of the Roald expedition would rest on his round
hunched shoulders.

When the three cadets and Jeff Marshall entered the observatory, they
found Professor Sykes bending over a calculating machine checking some
figures. Apparently finding a mistake, he muttered to himself angrily
and started over again. Roger stepped forward.

"I can handle a calculator pretty well, sir," Roger said. "You want me
to do it for you?"

Sykes whirled around and glared at the blond-haired cade