"Log yourself in as skipper
with me along as supercargo. I'll ride in the second pilot's chair."
Tom snapped a sharp salute and added vocally, "Aye, aye, sir!"
He turned back to the control board, strapped himself into the command
pilot's seat and opened the circuit to the spaceport control tower.
"Rocket cruiser _Polaris_ to spaceport control," he droned into the
microphone. "Check in!"
"Spaceport control to _Polaris_," the voice of the tower operator
replied. "You are cleared for blast-off in two minutes. Take out--orbit
75 ... repeat ... 75...."
"_Polaris_ to spaceport control. Orders received and understood. End
transmission!"
Tom then turned his attention to the station check.
"Control deck to radar deck. Check in."
"Radar deck, aye! Ready to raise ship." Roger's voice was relaxed, easy.
Tom turned to the board to adjust the teleceiver screen for a clear
picture of the stern of the ship. Gradually it came up in as sharp
detail as if he had been standing on the ground.
He checked the electric timing device in front of him that ticked off
the seconds, as a red hand crawled around to _zero_, and when it swept
down to the thirty-second mark, Tom pulled the microphone to his lips
again. "Control deck to power deck. Check in!"
"Power deck, aye?"
"Energize the cooling pumps!"
"Cooling pumps, aye!" repeated Astro.
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