"What!"

Quent Miles looked at Strong and then back at Roger. "You mean this
jerk's going to ride with me?"

Roger Manning squared his shoulders and stuck out his chin. "Let's make
the most of this, Miles," he said. "I don't like it any more than you
do. I wouldn't like to be watched, either, if I had just crawled out
from under a rock."

Strong suppressed a grin and then turned back to Quent. "That's the way
it is, Miles. Commander Walters' orders. There's nothing that can be
done now. Cadets Manning, Corbett, and Astro have been given these
assignments because they have worked so closely on the race project,
and, I might add, you couldn't ask for a better astrogator should you
get into trouble."

"The day I'll ask for help from a kid still wet behind the ears is the
day I'll stop flying," snarled Miles.

Strong shrugged. "You either consent to the regulations, or disqualify
yourself from the race."

The spaceman's face turned a dusky red under his swarthy complexion.
"All right, all right! If that's the way it is, that's the way we'll
play it. But I'm warning you, Manning, stay away from me."

Strong glanced at his wrist chronograph. "You have five minutes before