the Academy. By the book!
These tables have been figured out by great minds to help you, and you
just want to burn a little of the stuff and guess at what it'll be!" Tom
threw up his hands in disgust.

"Seems to me I heard of an old saying back in the teen centuries about
leading a horse to water, but not being able to make him drink!" drawled
Roger from the doorway. He strolled in and kicked at the crumpled sheets
of paper that littered the floor, stark evidence of Tom's efforts with
Astro.

"All right, wise guy," said Tom, "suppose you explain it to him!"

"No can do," replied Roger. "I tried. I explained it to him twenty times
this morning while you were taking your control-deck manual." He tapped
his head delicately with his forefinger. "Can't get through--too thick!"

Astro turned to the window to hide the mist in his eyes.

"Lay off, Roger," snapped Tom. He got up and walked over to the big
cadet. "Come on, Astro, we haven't got much time. You're due in the
examination hall in a few minutes."

"It's no good, Tom, I just can't understand that stuff." Astro turned
and faced his unit-mates, his voice charged with sudden emotion. "Just
fifteen minutes on the power deck of anything with rockets in her and
I'll run her from here to the next galaxy. I--I can't explain it, but
when I look at those motors, I can read 'em like you read an astrogation
chart, Roger, or you the gauges on the control deck, Tom. But I just
can't get those ratios out of a book. I gotta put my hands on those
motors--touch 'em--I mean really _touch 'em_--then I know what to do!"

As suddenly as he had started, he stopped and turned, leaving Tom and
Roger staring at him, startled by this unusual outburst.

"Cadets--stand _to!_" roared a voice from the doorway.

The three cadets snapped to attention and faced the entrance.

"Take it easy, Earthworms!" said Tony Richards. A tall cadet with
closely cut black hair and a lazy, smiling face stood in the doorway.

"Lay off, Richards," said Tom. "We haven't time for gags now. Astro's
going to take his power-deck manual in a few minutes and we're cramming
with him."

"O.K.--O.K.--don't blow your jets," said Richards. "I just wanted to see
if there were any bets on which unit would cop honors in the manuals
this afternoon."

"I suppose you think your Unit 77-K will finish on top?" drawled Roger.

"I'd like to bet all the galley demerits we have in 77-K against yours."

"With Astro on our team