Presently he heard the cough of the
rockets in the jet boats as one by one the small space craft blasted out
of the _Polaris_. Suddenly Tom began to shake as he realized the
importance of his task--the responsibility of counting time for five
men, time that could cost them their lives. If he made a single mistake,
miscounted by a minute, the expedition to Junior would end not only in
failure, but in tragedy.
As quickly as the thought came, Tom pushed it aside and turned to the
control board. No time now for fear. Now, more than any other time in
his life, he had to keep himself alert and ready for every emergency. As
a child he had often dreamed of the day when, as a spaceman, he would be
faced with an emergency only he could handle. And in the dreams he had
come through with flying colors. But now that it was a reality, Tom felt
nothing but cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.
He turned his whole attention to the great solar clock overhead. Time
had already begun slipping away. Ten minutes of the two hours had swept
past. They must be on Junior by now, he thought, and flipped on the
teleceiver.
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