thrust. On the radar deck Roger kept his eyes glued to the radar scanner
and posted Tom on the altitude as the ship drew closer and closer to the
ground.

"One thousand feet!" yelled Roger over the intercom. "Nine
hundred--eight--seven--six--"

"Open main rockets one half!" called Tom. "Reduce rate of fall!"

The thunder of the rockets increased and the mighty ship quivered as its
plummeting descent was checked slightly. Tom quickly adjusted the
stabilizer trim tabs to keep the ship perpendicular to the ground, then
watched the stern scanner carefully as the huge blast-pitted concrete
ramp loomed larger and larger.

"Five hundred feet to touchdown," tolled Roger in more slow and measured
tones. "Four hundred--three--two--"

On the scanner screen Tom could see the exhaust flare begin to lick at
the concrete ramp, then splash its surface until it was completely
hidden. He grasped the main control switch tightly and waited.

"One hundred feet," Roger's voice was tense now. "Seventy-five, fifty--"

Tom barked out a quick order. "Blast all rockets!"

In immediate response, the main tubes roared into thunderous life and
the _Polaris_ shook as the sudden acceleration battled the force of
gravity. The ship's descent slowed perceptibly until she hovered
motionless in the air, her stabilizer fins only two feet from the