nd put it back together again with his thumbs," thundered below
to the atomic rockets he loved more than anything else in the universe.
Roger Manning, the third member of the famed _Polaris_ unit, raced up
the narrow ladder leading to the radar bridge to take command of
astrogation and communications.

While Captain Strong and the members of the _Arcturus_ unit strapped
themselves into acceleration cushions, Tom conducted a routine check of
the many gauges on the great control panel before him. Satisfied, he
flipped open the intercom and called, "All stations, check in!"

"Radar deck, aye!" drawled Roger's lazy voice.

"Power deck, aye!" rumbled Astro.

"Energize the cooling pumps!" ordered Tom.

"Cooling pumps, aye!"

The whine of the mighty pumps was suddenly heard, moaning eerily
throughout the ship.

"Feed reactant!"

The sharp hiss of fuel being forced into the rocket engines rose above
the whine of the pumps, and the ship trembled.

"Stand by to blast," called Tom. "Standard space speed!"

Instantly the _Polaris_ shot toward Earth in a long, curving arc.
Moments later, when the huge round ball of the mother planet loomed
large on the scanner screen, Roger's voice reported over the intercom,
"Academy spaceport control gives us approach orbit 074 for touchdown on
Ramp Twelve, Tom."

"074 Ramp Twelve," repeated Tom. "Got it!"

"Twelve!" roared Astro suddenly over the intercom. "Couldn't you make it
closer to the Academy than that, Manning? We'll have to walk two miles
to the nearest slidewalk!"

"Too bad, Astro," retorted Roger, "but I guess if I had to carry around
as much useless muscle and bone as you do, I'd complain too!"

"I'm just not as lucky as you, Manning," snapped Astro quickly. "I don't
have all that space gas to float me around."

"Knock it off, fellows," interjected Tom firmly. "We're going into our
approach."

Lying on his acceleration cushion, Strong looked over at Tony Richards
of the _Arcturus_ unit and winked. Richards winked and smiled back.
"They never stop, do they, sir?"

"When they do," replied Strong, "I'll send all three of them to sick bay
for examination."

"Two hundred thousand feet to Earth's surface," called Tom. "Stand by
for landing operations."

As Tom adjusted the many controls on the complicated operations panel of
the ship, Roger and Astro followed his orders quickly and exactly. "Cut
main drive rockets and give me one-half thrust on forward braking
rock