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Rockwell, Carey, [pseud.]

"Stand by for Mars!"


"Naw. Al James used them all," answered Tom.
"That does it," said Roger. "In another couple of hours, when and if
anyone shows up, all they'll find is three space cadets fried on the
half shell of a spaceship!"
"Listen, Roger," said Tom, "as soon as we fail to check in, the whole
Mars Solar Guard fleet will be out looking for us. Our last report will
show them we were heading in this direction. It won't take Captain
Strong long to figure out that we might have run out of fuel, and, with
that skid mark in the sand trailing back for twenty miles, all we have
to do is stick with the ship and wait for them to show up!"
"What's that?" asked Astro sharply.
From a distance, the three cadets could hear a low moaning and wailing.
They rushed to the crystal port and looked out on the endless miles of
brown sand, stretching as far as the horizon and meeting the cloudless
blue sky. Shimmering in the heat, the New Sahara desert of Mars was just
beginning to warm up for the day under the bleaching sun. The thin
atmosphere offered little protection against the blazing heat rays.
"Nothing but sand," said Tom. "Maybe something is still hot on the power
deck." He looked at Astro.
"I checked it before I came topside," said Astro. "I've heard that noise
before. It can only mean one thing."
"What's that?" asked Roger.
Astro turned quickly and walked to the opposite side of the littered
control deck.


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