The half circle backed away until stopped by the anchored static lines. A bright orange flame burst from the sergeant's back and he moved straight out or "up," slowly at first, then with increasing speed. His microphone was open; Matt could hear, by radio only, the muted rush of his jet-and could hear the sergeant counting seconds: "And . . . one! . . . and . . . two! . . . and . . . three!" With the count of ten, the jet and the counting stopped.
Their instructor was fifty feet "above" them and moving away, back toward them. He continued to lecture. "No matter how perfectly you've balanced you'll end up with a small amount of spin. When you want to change direction, double up in a ball-" He did so. "-to spin faster-and snap out of it when you've turned as far as you want." He suddenly flattened out and was facing them. "Cut in your jet and balance on it to straighten out on your new course-before you drift past the direction you want."
He did not cut in his jet, but continued to talk, while moving away from them and slowly turning. "There is always some way to squirm around on your axis of rotation so that you can face the way you need to face for a split second at least. For example, if I wanted to head toward the Station-" Terra Station was almost a right angle away from his course; he went through contortions appropriate to a monkey dying in convulsions and again snapped out in starfish spread, facing the Station-but turning slow cartwheels now, his axis of rotation unchanged.
"But I don't want to go to the Station; I want to come back to the ship." The monkey died again; when the convulsions ceased, the sergeant was facing them. He cut in his jet and again counted ten seconds. He hung in space, motionless with respect to the ship and his class and about a quarter mile away. "I'm coming in on a jet landing, to save time." The jet blasted for twenty seconds and died; he moved toward them rapidly.
When he was still a couple of hundred feet away, he flipped over and blasted away from the ship for ten seconds. The sum of his maneuvers was to leave him fifty feet away and approaching at ten feet per second. He curled up in a ball again and came out of it feet toward the ship.
Five seconds later his boots clicked to steel and he let himself collapse without rebound. "But that is not the way you'll do it," he went on. "My tanks hold more juice than yours do-you've got fifty seconds of power, with each second good for a change of speed on one foot-second-that's for three hundred pounds of mass; some of you skinny guys will go a little faster.
"Here's your flight plan: ten seconds out, counted. Turn as quick as you can and blast fifteen seconds back. That means you'll click on with five foot- seconds. Even your crippled grandmother ought to be able to do that without bouncing off. Lathrop! Unhook-you're first."
As the cadet came up, Hanako anchored himself to the ship with two short lines and took from his belt a very long line. He snapped one end to a hook in the front of the cadet's belt and the other to his own suit. The student looked at it with distaste. "Is the sky hook necessary?"
Sergeant Hanako stared at him. "Sorry, Commodore-regulations. And shut up. Take the ready position."
Silently the cadet crouched, then he was moving away, a fiery brush growing out of his back. He moved fairly straight at first, then started to turn.
He pulled in a leg-and turned completely over.
"Lathrop-cut off your jet!" snapped Hanako. The flame died out, but the figure in the suit continued to turn and to recede. Hanako paid out his safety line. "Got a big fish here, boys," he said cheerfully. "What do you think he'll weigh?" He tugged on the line, which caused Lathrop to spin the other way, as the line had wound itself around him. When the line was free he hauled the cadet in.
Lathrop clicked on. "You were right, sergeant. I want to try it again-your way."
"Sorry. The book says a hundred per cent reserve fuel for this drill; you'd have to recharge." Hanako hesitated. "Sign up for tomorrow morning-I'll take you as an extra."
"Oh-thanks, Sarge!"
"Don't mention it. Number one!"
The next cadet moved out smoothly, but returned on an angle and had to be snubbed with the safety line before he could click on. The next cadet had trouble orienting himself at all. He receded, his back to the -ship, and seemed to be about to continue in the direction of Draco till the end of time. Hanako tugged gently on the safety line while letting it run through his gloves and turned him around toward the ship. "Ten seconds on the jet, while I keep a strain on the line," he ordered. The safety line kept the cadet straightened out until he got back. "Number three!" called out Hanako.
Matt stepped forward with a feeling of tight excitement. The instructor hooked the safety line and said, "Any questions? Go ahead when ready."
"Okay." Matt crouched, broke his boots free, and stretched out. He steadied himself against the sergeant's knee. In front of him lay the northern constellations. He picked out the Pole Star as a target, then loosened the safety catch of the firing switch in his glove.
"And . . . one!" He felt a soft, steady pressure across his saddle, a shove of not quite ten pounds. Polaris seemed to vibrate to the blasting of the tiny jet. Then the star swung to the left, beyond the ring of the sight.
He pulled in his right arm and right leg. The star swung faster, checked and started back. Cautiously he extended his right-side limbs again-and almost forgot to cut the jet on the count of ten.
He could not see the ship. Earth swam in the velvety darkness off to the right. The silence and aloneness were more intense, more complete, than he had ever experienced.
"Time to turn," said Hanako in his ear.
"Oh-" said Matt, and grabbed his knees.
The heavens wheeled around him. He saw the ship swinging into sight, too late. He checked by starfishing, but it had moved on past. "Take it easy," advised the sergeant. "Don't curl up quite so tight, and catch it on the next time around. There's no hurry."
He drew himself in again, but not so much. The ship came around again, though twice as far away as it had been before. This time he checked before it swung past. The figures crawling on her side were about three hundred feet away and still backing away from him. He got someone's helmet centered in his sight, pressed the switch and began to count.
For a few worried seconds he thought that something had gone wrong. The figures on the ship did not seem- to be getting nearer and now they were swinging slowly past him. He was tempted to blast again-but Hanako's orders had been specific; he decided not to.
The ship swung out of sight; he doubled up in a ball to bring it around more quickly. When it showed up it was distinctly nearer and he felt relieved. Actually the two bodies, ship and man, had been closing at five feet per second-but five feet per second is a slow walk.
A little more than a minute after cutting his jet, he jack-knifed to bring his boots in front of him and clicked on, about ten feet from the instructor.
Hanako came over and placed his helmet against Mart's so he could speak to him privately, with the radio shut off. "A good job, kid, the way you kept your nerve when you swung past. Okay-I'll post you for advanced training."
Matt remembered to cut out his walky-talky. "Gee, thanks!"
"You did it, not me." Hanako cut back in the voice circuit. "Okay, there- number four."
Matt wanted to chase back to his room, find Tex, and do some boasting. But there were seven more to go. Some did well, some had to be fished out of difficulty.
The last man outdid himself. He failed to cut off his power in spite of Hanako's shouts for him to do so. He moved away from the ship in a wide curve and commenced to spin, while the sergeant whipped at the safety line to try to stop the spin and head him back. At the end of a long fifty seconds his power gave out; he was nearly a thousand feet away and still receding rapidly.
The sergeant played him like a fisherman fighting a barracuda, then brought him in very, very slowly, for there was no way to check whatever speed the tension on the line placed on him.