Tower to the many floors below surface level. Tom glanced at his wrist
chronograph as they stepped off the slidestairs and headed for Captain
Strong's quarters.

"We're about twenty minutes late," he said to Roger and Astro. "Hope
Captain Strong's in good spirits!"

"If he isn't," said Roger, "we can--"

"Don't say it," protested Astro. "I only just finished working off my
last bunch of galley demerits."

They stopped in front of a door, straightened their uniforms, and then
slid the door to one side and stepped smartly into the room. They came
to rigid attention before a massive desk, flanked by two wall windows of
clear sheet crystal reaching from ceiling to floor. Standing at the
window, Captain Steve Strong, _Polaris_ unit cadet supervisor, his broad
shoulders stretching under his black-and-gold uniform, turned to face
them, his features set in grim lines of trouble.

"_Polaris_ unit reporting for orders, sir," said Tom. The three cadets
saluted crisply.

Strong snapped a return salute and walked to the front of his desk.
"Getting pretty big for your britches, aren't you?" he growled. "I've
been watching you from this window. I saw the messenger deliver my
orders to you, and then, I saw you return to your game and finish it,
apparently deciding that the business of the Solar Guard can wait!"

"But, sir--" Roger started to say.