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Rockwell, Carey, [pseud.]

"Stand by for Mars!"


"Can you do it without your astrogation prism?" asked Astro.
"Navigation, not astrogation, Astro," said Roger. "Like the ancient
sailors used on the oceans back on Earth hundreds of years ago. Only
thing is, I'll have to work up the logarithms by hand, instead of using
the computer. Might be a little rough, but it'll be close enough for
what we want."
The three cadets finished the remaining sandwiches and then picked their
way back through the ship to the control deck. There, they rummaged
through the pile of broken and shattered instruments.
"If we could find just one tube that hasn't been damaged, I think I
might be able to rig up some sort of one-lung communications set," said
Roger. "It might have enough range to get a message to the nearest
atmosphere booster station."
"Nothing but a pile of junk here, Roger," said Tom. "We might find
something on the radar deck."
The three members of the _Polaris_ unit climbed over the rubble and made
their way to the radar deck, and started their search for an undamaged
tube. After forty-five minutes of searching, Roger stood up in disgust.
"Nothing!" he said sourly.
"That kills any hope of getting a message out," said Tom.
"By the craters of Luna," said Astro, wiping his forehead. "I didn't
notice it before, but it's getting hotter here than on the power deck on
a trip to Mercury!"
"Do we have any flares?" asked Roger.


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