red. The big Venusian
shrugged his shoulders. "I just don't understand that guy!"

But Tom failed to reply. He had turned toward the window and was staring
out past the gleaming white Tower of Galileo into the slowly darkening
skies of evening to the east. For the moment, the problems of Roger
Manning and the unit were far away. He was thinking of the coming
morning when he would dress in the blues of a Space Cadet for the first
time and step into his own ship as command pilot. He was thinking of the
morning when he would be a real spaceman!

[Illustration]

CHAPTER 8

The campus of Space Academy was quiet that evening. Only a few cadets
were still out on the quadrangle, lounging around in the open before
returning to their quarters for bed-check.

On the forty-second floor of the dormitory building, two thirds of the
newly formed _Polaris_ unit, Tom and Astro, were in heated argument.

"All right, all right, so the guy is brilliant," said Astro. "But who
can live with him? Not even himself!"

"Maybe he is a little difficult," replied Tom, "but somehow, we've got
to adjust to him!"

"How about him adjusting to us? It's two against one!" Astro shambled to
the window and looked out moodily. "Besides, he's putting in for a
transfer and there's nothing we can do about it!"

"Maybe he won't now--not after that little speech Captain Strong made
this afternoon."

"If he doesn't, then, blast it, I will!"

"Aw, now take it easy, Astro!"

"Take it easy, nothing!" Astro was building up a big head of steam.
"Where is that space crawler right now?"

"I don't know. He never came back. Wasn't even down at mess tonight."

"There, that's just what I mean!" Astro turned to Tom to press his
point. "It's close to bed-check and he isn't in quarters yet. If the
MP's catch him outside after hours, the whole unit will be logged and
there goes our chance of blasting off tomorrow!"

"But there's still time, Astro," replied Tom lamely.

"Not much there isn't. It just shows you what he thinks of the unit! He
just doesn't care!" Astro paced the floor angrily. "There's only one
thing to do! He gets his transfer--or we do! Or--" he paused and looked
at Tom meaningfully, "or I do."

"You're not thinking, Astro," argued Tom. "How will that look on your
record? Every time there's a trip into deep space, they yank out your
file to see how you operate under pressure with other guys. When they
see that you asked for a transfer