k cadet, eh? Well, you work with me. On the control
deck there's only room for one brain, one decision, one answer. And when
I'm on the control deck, that decision, answer, and brain will be mine!"

"I understand perfectly, sir," said Tom tonelessly.

Connel stepped back, fists on his hips, eying the three cadets. He had
heard about their difficulty in fitting personalities together when they
had first arrived at Space Academy (as described in _Stand By for
Mars!_). And he had heard about their triumph over the Martian desert.
He was impressed with everything he had learned about them, but he knew
that he had a reputation for being tough and that this reputation
usually brought out the best in cadets. Early in his long and brilliant
career he had learned that his life depended on the courage and
ingenuity of his fellow spacemen. When he became an instructor at the
Academy, he had determined that no cadet would ever be anything but the
best, and that, when they blasted off in later years, they could be
depended on.

He looked at the three cadets and felt a tinge of excitement that did
not show on his scowling face. "Yes," he thought, "they'll make
spacemen. It'll take a little time--but they're good material."

"_Now listen to this!_" he bawled. "We blast off for the Venus space
station in exactly thirty minutes. Get your gear aboard the _Polaris_
and stand by to raise ship." He dropped his voice and pushed out his jaw
a little farther. "This will be the toughest journey you'll ever make.
You'll either come back spacemen, or you'll come back nothing. I'm going
to try my best to make it"--he paused and added coldly--"_nothing!_
Because if you can't take it from me, then you don't belong in space!
Unit _dis_-missed!"

He turned on his heel and disappeared up the slidestairs without another
look at the three rigid cadets.

"Yeah--we'll educate him, all right," said Astro softly, with a wink at
Tom. "Make him think he's done everything for us."

"Ah, go blast your jets!" snarled Roger after he had found his voice.

"Come on," said Tom. "Let's get the _Polaris_ ready. And, fellows, I
mean _ready_!"

Bill Loring and Al Mason stood near the entrance to the control tower of
the Academy spaceport and watched the three cadets of the _Polaris_
scramble into the giant rocket cruiser.

"Every time I think about that Connel kicking us out of space for twelve
months I wanta pound his head in with a wrench!" snarled Loring.