ight, he turned to the intercom. "All
right, you space babies," he announced, "this is it. Stand by to blast
Junior. Here we come!"

[Illustration]

CHAPTER 18

Dawn broke over the tangled jungles of Tara, followed by the bright sun
of Alpha Centauri rising out of the eastern sea and slowly climbing
higher and higher. In the dense unexplored wilderness, living things,
terrible things, opened their eyes and resumed their never-ending quest
for food. Once again Alpha Centauri had summoned one hemisphere of its
satellite planet to life.

Meanwhile, high in the heavens above Tara, six Earthmen blasted into the
flaming brilliance of the sun star. Using delicate instruments instead
of claws, and their intelligence instead of blind hunger, they prepared
to do battle with the sun star and force it to release the precious
copper satellite from its deadly, consuming grasp.

The crew of the _Polaris_ assembled on the control deck of the great
spaceship, and facing their commanding officer, waited patiently for the
word that would send them hurtling out to their target.

"The jet boats are all ready, sir," reported Tom. "We're dead ship in
orbit around Junior at an altitude of about three hundred miles."

"Does that mean we're falling into the sun too?" gasped Shinny.

"It sure does, Mr. Shinny," said Alfie, "at more than twenty miles per
second."

"The jet boats have enough power to get back from Junior to the
_Polaris_, Mr. Shinny," reassured Tom. "And then the _Polaris_ can blast
off from here. The jet boats wouldn't go much higher off Junior this
close to the sun."

"But if we go beyond the two-hour limit, the _Polaris_ can't blast off
either," commented Roger dryly.

"All right. Is everything set?" asked Connel. "Astro, is the reactant
loaded?"

"No, sir," said Astro, "but it's all ready to go in."

"Good!" said Connel. "Now we all know how important--and how
dangerous--this operation is. I don't have to tell you again. You stay
here on the control deck, Tom, and keep in touch with us on Junior at
all times. You know what to do?"

"Yes, sir," replied Tom. "I'm to stand by and give you a
minute-by-minute warning check until final blast-off time."

"Right," said Connel. "And remember, we're counting on you to tell us
when to blast off. We'll be too busy down there to pay any attention."

"I understand, sir," replied Tom. His face was passive. He was well
aware of the responsibility.

"Very well," s