Minutes later, Dilling radioed an all-clear! The Challenger soared into the blue.
There was little banter aboard the spaceship during its long outward thrust into the twinkling darkness of the interplanetary void. The crew’s faces reflected the tension all were feeling. At last the Green Orb became visible through the pilots’ view panes. Its swirling, yellowish-green atmosphere began to glow with lurid brilliance as the Challenger drew nearer.
“Brand my goose grease, I don’t like the looks o’ that!” Chow muttered uneasily.
Tom said nothing as he prepared for the maneuver that would carry them through the Orb’s atmosphere to a landing.
“One good thing, our helmet neutralizers seem to be working,” Bud remarked.
Suddenly a crewman’s voice spoke over the intercom. “Radiation-control room reporting.
168 3-D TELEJECTOR
Our monitors have conked out! We’re getting no reading for gamma or cosmic radiation.”
“Trouble in the power room, too, skipper!” another voice broke in anxiously.
“Our solar-conversion units have stopped charging!”
Tom’s jaw clenched. What was happening? “Stand by,” he ordered. Then he called the ship’s radioman. “How’s our radio contact with Fearing, Mike? Still in touch?”
The answer sent a pang of alarm through the young scientist. “We were, up till a minute ago, skipper. Then the transmission faded out. All I can get now is static.”
“Hey! We’re not braking speed!” Bud cut in.
Tom’s eyes widened fearfully as he conned the control dials. “No repelatron thrust!” he murmured. “Our autopilot may be haywire!”
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