and
faster, pushing the four spacemen deep into their acceleration cushions,
it hurtled spaceward.

In a few seconds the _Polaris_ was gravity-free. Once again, Earthmen
had started another journey to the stars.

CHAPTER 4

"Stand by to reduce speed three-quarters!" roared Major Connel.

"Aye, aye, sir," replied Tom, and began the necessary adjustments on the
control panel. He spoke into the intercom. "Control deck to power deck.
Stand by to reduce thrust on main drive rockets by three-quarters. We're
coming onto the space station, Astro."

"Power deck, aye," acknowledged Astro.

Drifting in a steady orbit around its mother planet, the Venus space
station loomed ahead of the _Polaris_ like a huge metal ball set against
a backdrop of cold, black space. It was studded with gaping holes, air
locks which served as landing ports for spaceships. Inside the station
was a compact city. Living quarters, communications rooms, repair shops,
weather observations, meteor information, everything to serve the great
fleet of Solar Guard and merchant spaceships plying the space lanes
between Earth, Mars, Venus, and Titan.

"I'm getting the identification request from the station, sir. Shall I
answer her?" asked Roger over the intercom.

"Of course, you space-brained idiot, and make it fast!" exploded Connel.
"What do you want to do? Get us blasted out of space?"

"Yes, sir!" replied Roger. "Right away, sir!"

Tom kept his eyes on the teleceiver screen above his head. The image of
the space station loomed large and clear.

"Approaching a little too fast, I think, sir," volunteered Tom. "Shall I
make the adjustment?"

"What's the range?" asked Connel.

Tom named a figure.

"Ummmmh," mused Connel. He glanced quickly over the dials and then
nodded in assent. Tom turned once more to the intercom. "Control deck to
power deck," he called. "Stand by for maneuvering, Astro, and reduce
your main drive thrust to minimum space speed."

"Space station traffic control to rocket cruiser _Polaris_. Come in,
_Polaris_. This is traffic control on space station to _Polaris_," the
audio teleceiver crackled.

"Rocket cruiser _Polaris_ to space station and traffic control. Request
touchdown permission and landing-port number," replied Tom.

"Permission to touch down granted, _Polaris_. You are to line up on
approach to landing-port seven--repeat--seven. Am now sending out
guiding radar beam. Can you read beam?"

Tom turned to