The ship steadied once more and then slipped
back into her fall toward the new planet under more sure control.
"Fifty feet," reported Alfie. "Forty--thirty--twenty--"
There was a brief pause, as if everything had stopped and they were held
still by a giant hand, and then, suddenly, a rocking motion, a slight
bump and rumble. Tom knew they were down.
"_Touchdown!_" he yelled at the top of his voice. "Touchdown! We made
it--we made it!"
From the power deck, quiet except for the whining of the oxygen feed
pump, Astro's bellow could be heard vibrating through the passageways.
"_Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooowwwwwww!_"
Tom began shutting off the many circuits and switches and made a quick
last-minute check of the now dead ship. Satisfied, he glanced at the
great solar clock, noted the time in the log, and stepped to the ladder
leading to the radar bridge.
"Cadet Corbett reporting, sir," said Tom, saluting smartly. "I wish to
report, sir, that the _Polaris_ made touchdown on the planet Tara at
exactly seventeen fifty-nine, solar time!"
Connel, his great bulk bent over the tiny transmitter, was twirling the
dials, his head encased in a vacuum earphone helmet to ensure perfect
silence.
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