"
"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 the intercom. "Have you got the station's guiding beam,
Roger?"
"All lined up, Tom," replied Roger from the radar bridge. "Get that
Venusian on the power deck to give me a three-second shot on the
starboard rocket, if he can find the right handles!"
"I heard that, Manning!" roared Astro's voice on the intercom. "Another
crack like that and I'll make you get out and push this baby around!"
"_You execute that order and do it blasted quick!_" Major Connel's voice
exploded over the intercom. "And watch that loose talk on the ship's
intercom. From now on, all directions and orders will be given and
received in a crisp, clear manner without unnecessary familiarity!"
Connel didn't expect them to acknowledge his order.
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