"Whaddaya trying to do,
starve us to death?"
"That's not a bad idea!" said Roger. Loring took the tray. Roger
motioned him back inside the brig and slammed the door shut. He locked
it and leaned against the grille.
"Better eat it while you can," he said. "They don't serve it so fancy on
a prison asteroid."
"You'll never get us on a prison asteroid," whined Mason.
"Don't kid yourself," said Roger. "As soon as we get the reactor units
set, we're going to send this hunk of copper back to Earth and then take
you back. They'll bury you!"
"Who's going to do all that?" snapped Loring. "A bunch of punk kids and
a loudmouthed Solar Guard officer?"
"Yeah," retorted Roger.
"_Cadet Manning!_" Connel's voice roared over the intercom. "You were
ordered to report to the control deck in five minutes! You are already
one minute late! Report to the control deck on the double and _I mean
double!_"
Loring and Mason laughed. "Old 'Blast-off' Connel's really got your
number, eh, kid?"
"Ah, rocket off, you pinheaded piece of space junk! It didn't take him
long to dampen _your_ tubes!"
Connel roared again.
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