den stir in the room and Tom looked up to see Roger
Manning walk to the slot and casually deposit his tube in the
green-bordered slot. Then he leaned idly against the wall waiting for it
to be returned. As he stood there, he spoke to Dr. Dale, who smiled and
replied. There was something about his attitude that made Tom boil. So
fast? He glanced at his own papers. He had hardly finished two sheets
and thought he was doing fine. He clenched his teeth and bent over the
paper again, redoubling his efforts to triangulate a fix on Regulus by
using dead reckoning as a basis for his computations.

Suddenly a tall man, wearing the uniform of a Solar Guard officer,
appeared in the back of the room. As Dr. Dale looked up and smiled a
greeting, he placed his finger on his lips. Steve Strong, Captain in the
Solar Guard, gazed around the room at the backs bent over busy pencils.
He did not smile, remembering how, only fifteen years before, he had
gone through the same torture, racking his brains trying to adjust the
measurements of a magnascope prism. He was joined by a thin handsome
young man, Lieutenant Judson Saminsky, and finally, Warrant Officer
McKenny. They nodded silently in greeting. It would be over soon. Strong
glanced at the clock over the desk. Another ten minutes to go.

The line of boys at the slots grew until more than twenty stood there,
each waiting patiently, nervously, for his turn to drop the tube in the
slot and receive in return the sealed cylinder that held his fate.

Still at his desk, his face wet with sweat, Astro looked at the question
in front of him for the fifteenth time.

" ... Estimate the time it would take a 300-ton rocket ship with
half-filled tanks, cruising at the most economical speed to make a trip
from Titan to Venusport. (a) Estimate size and maximum capacity of fuel
tanks. (b) Give estimate of speed ship would utilize...."

He thought. He slumped in his chair. He stared at the ceiling. He chewed
his pencil....

Five seats away, Tom stacked his examination sheets neatly, twisted them
into a cylinder and inserted them in the tube. As he passed the line of
desks and headed for the slot, a hand caught his arm. Tom turned to see
Roger Manning grinning at him.

"Worried, spaceboy?" asked Roger easily. Tom didn't answer. He simply
withdrew his arm.

"You know," said Roger, "you're really a nice kid. It's a shame you
won't make it. But the rules specifically say 'no cabbageheads.'"

"No ta