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A GOLDEN GRIFFON SPACE ADVENTURE

Rip Foster in Ride the Gray Planet

By BLAKE SAVAGE

GOLDEN PRESS NEW YORK

Golden Griffon TM of Western Publishing Company, Inc.

Copyright 1952 by Western Publishing Company, Inc.
All rights reserved. Printed in the U.S.A.
Published by Golden Press, New York, N.Y.

First Golden Griffon Printing, 1969

CHAPTER ONE

Spacebound

A thousand miles above Earth's surface the great space platform spedfrom daylight into darkness. Once every two hours it circled the earthcompletely, spinning along through space like a mighty wheel of steel andplastic.

Through a telescope on Earth the platform looked to be a lifeless, lonelydisk, but within it, hundreds of spacemen and Planeteers went about theirwork.

In a ready room at the outer edge of the platform, a Planeteer officerfaced a dozen slim, black-clad young men who wore the single goldenorbits of lieutenants. This was a graduating class, already commissioned,having a final informal get-together.

The officer, who wore the three-orbit insignia of a major, was lean andtrim. His short-cropped hair covered his head like a gray fur skull cap.One cheek was marked with the crisp whiteness of an old radiation burn.

"Stand easy," he ordered briskly. "The general instructions of theSpecial Order Squadrons say that it's my duty as senior officer to make afarewell speech. I intend to make a speech if it kills me—and you, too."

The dozen new officers facing him broke into grins. Maj. Joe Barris hadbeen their friend, teacher, and senior officer during six long years oftraining on the space platform. He could no more make a formal speechthan he could breathe high vacuum, and they all knew it.

Lt. Richard Ingalls Peter Foster, whose initials had given him thenickname "Rip," asked, "Why don't you sing for us instead, Joe?"

Major Barris fixed Rip with a cold eye. "Foster, three orbital turns,then front and center."

Rip obediently spun around three times, then walked forward and stood atattention, trying to conceal his grin.

This was a ceremony in which questions and answers never changed. It wassupposed to make Planeteer cadets and junior officers feel properlyhumble, but it didn't work. By tradition, the Planeteers were thecockiest gang that ever blasted through high vacuum.

Major Barris shook his head sadly. "You admit you're a simp, Foster. Therest of you are simps, too, but you don't believe it. You've finished sixyears on the platform. You've made a few little trips out into space.You've landed on the moon a couple of times. So now you think you'reseasoned space spooks. Well, you're not. You're simps!"

Rip stopped grinning. He had heard this before. It was part of theroutine. But he sensed that this time Joe Barris wasn't kidding.

The major absently rubbed the radiation scar on his cheek as he lookedthem over. They were like twelve chicks out of the same nest. They wereabout the same size, a compact five feet eleven inches, 175 pounds. Theywore belted, loose black tunics over full trousers which gathered intowhite cruiser boots. The comfortable uniforms concealed any slightdifferences in build. All twelve were lean of face, with hair cropped tothe regulation half inch. Rip was the only redhead among them.

"Well," he began soberly, "you are now officers of the Special OrderSquadrons. You're Planeteers. You are lieutenants by order of the SpaceCouncil, Federation of Free Governments. And—space protect you!—toyourselves you're supermen. But never forget this: To ordinary spacemen,you're just plain simps. You're trouble in a black tunic. They have aboutas much use for you as they have for leaks in their air locks. Some ofthe spacemen have been high-vacking for twenty years or more, and they'retough. They're as nasty as a Callistanteekal. They like to eatPlaneteer junior officers for breakfast."

Major Barris sighed. "No use trying to tell you space chicks anything.You're lieutenants now, and a lieutenant has the thickest skull of anyrank, no matter what service he belongs to."

Rip realized that Barris had not been joking, no matter how flippant hisspeech. "Go ahead," he urged. "Finish what you were going to say."

"Okay. I'll make it short. Then you can catch the Terra rocket and takeyour eight weeks' Earth leave. You won't really know what I'm talkingabout until you've batted around space for a while. All I have to sayadds up to one thing. You won't like it, because it doesn't soundscientific. That doesn't mean it isn't good science, because it is. Justremember this: When you're in a jam, trust your hunch and not your head."

The twelve stared at him, openmouthed. For six years they had been taughtto rely on scientific methods. Now their best instructor and seniorofficer was telling them just the opposite!

Rip started to object, but then he caught a glimmer of meaning. He stuckout his hand. "Thanks, Joe. I hope we'll meet again."

Barris grinned. "We will, Rip. I'll ask for you as a platoon commanderwhen they assign me to cleaning up the goopies on Ganymede." This was themajor's idea of the worst Planeteer job in the solar system.

The group shook hands all around; then the young officers broke for thedoor on the run. The Terra rocket was blasting off in five minutes, andthey were to be on it.

Rip joined Flip Villa, and they jumped on the high-speed track that wouldwhisk them to Valve Two on the other side of the platform. Their gear wasalready loaded. They had only to take seats on the rocket, and their sixyears on the space platform would be at an end.

"I wonder what it will be like to get back to high gravity," Rip mused.The centrifugal force of the spinning platform acted as artificialgravity, but it was considerably less than Earth's.

"We probably won't be able to walk straight until we get our Earth legsback," Flip answered. "I wish I could stay in Colorado with you insteadof going back to Mexico City, Rip. We could have a lot of fun in eightweeks."

Both Planeteers had been assigned to Special Order Squadron Four, whichwas attached to the cruiserBolide. The cruiser was in high space,beyond the orbits of Jupiter and Saturn, doing comet research.

They got off the track at Valve Two and stepped through into the rocket'sinterior. Two seats just ahead of the fins were vacant, and they slidinto them. Rip looked through the thick port beside him and saw thedistinctive blue glow of a nuclear drive cruiser sliding toward theplatform.

"Wave your eye stalks at that job," Flip said admiringly. "Wonder whatit's doing here."

The space platform was a refueling depot, where conventional chemicalfuel rockets topped off their tanks before flaming for space. The newernuclear drive cruisers had no need to stop. Their atomic piles needed newneutron sources only once every few years, and they carried thousands oftons of methane, compressed into solid form, for their reaction mass.

The voice horn in the rocket cabin sounded. "The SCNScorpius ispassing Valve Two, landing at Valve Eight."

"I thought that ship was with Squadron One on Mercury," Rip recalled."Wonder why they pulled it back here."

Flip had no chance to reply, because the chief rocket officer took up hisstation at the valve and began to call the roll. Rip answered to hisname.

The rocket officer finished the roll, then announced: "Buttoning up intwenty seconds. Blast off in forty-five. Don't bother with accelerationharness. We'll fall free, with just enough flame going for control, afterten seconds of retrothrust to de-orbit."

The ten-second-warning bell sounded, and, before the bell had ceased, thevoice horn blasted. "Get it! Foster, R.I.P., Lieutenant. Report to theplatform commander. Show an exhaust!"

Rip leaped to his feet. "Hold on, Flip. I'll see what the old man wantsand be right back."

"Get flaming," the rocket officer called. "Show an exhaust, like the mansaid. This bucket leaves on time, and we're sealing the port."

He knew he had no choice. "Tell my folks I'll make the next rocket," hecalled, and ran. He leaped through the valve, jumped for the high-speedtrack, and was whisked around the rim of the space platform.

He ran a hand through his short red hair, a gesture of bewilderment. Hisrecords had cleared. So far as he knew, all his papers were in order, andhe had his next assignment. He couldn't figure why the platform commanderwould want to see him. But the horn had called, "Show an exhaust!" whichmeant to get there in a hurry.

He jumped off the track at the main crossrun and hurried toward thecenter of the platform. In a moment he was at the commander's door,waiting to be identified.

The door swung open, and a junior officer in the blue tunic and trousersof a spaceman motioned him to the inner room. "Go in, Lieutenant."

Commander Jennsen, the Norwegian spaceman who had commanded the platformsince before Rip's arrival as a raw cadet, was dictating into his commandrelay circuit. As he spoke, printed copies were being received in theplatform personnel office, at Special Order Squadron headquarters onEarth, aboard the cruiserBolide in high space, and aboard the newlylanded cruiserScorpius.

"Foster, R.I.P., Lieutenant, SOS. Serial seven-nine-four-three. AssignedSOS Four. Change orders, effective this date-time. Cancel Earth leave.Subject officer will report to commander, SCNScorpius, with detachmentof nine men. Senior noncommissioned officer and second in command, Koa,A.P., Sergeant Major, SOS. Serial two-nine-four-one. Commander ofScorpius will transport detachment to coordinates given in basiccruiser astro-course; deliver orders to detachment en route. Takerequired steps for maximum security. This is Federation priority A,Space Council security procedures."

Rip swallowed hard. The highest possible priority, given by theFederation itself, had canceled his leave. Not only that, but the cruiserto which he was assigned was instructed to follow Space Council securityprocedures, which meant that the job, whatever it was, was more urgentthan secret!

Commander Jennsen looked up and saw Rip waiting. He snapped, "Did you getall of that?"

"You'll get written copies on the cruiser. Now flame out of here. Collectyour men and get aboard. TheScorpius leaves in five minutes."

Rip ran. The realization hit him that the big nuclear cruiser had stoppedat the platform for the sole purpose of collecting him and nine enlistedPlaneteers.

The low gravity helped him cover the hundred yards to the personneloffice in five leaps. He swung to a stop by grabbing the push bar of theoffice door. He yelled at the enlisted spaceman on duty. "Where do I findnine men?"

The spaceman looked at him vacantly. "What for? You got a requisition,Lieutenant?"

"Never mind requisitions," Rip snapped. "I've got to find nine Planeteersand get them on theScorpius before it flames off."

The spaceman's face cleared. "Oh. You mean Koa's detachment. They left afew minutes ago."

The spaceman shrugged. The doings of Planeteers were no concern of his.His shrug said so.

Rip realized there was no use talking further. He ran down the longcorridor toward the outer edge of the platform. The enlisted men's squadrooms were near Valve Ten. So was the supply department. His gear haddeparted on the Terra rocket, and he couldn't go into space with onlythe tunic on his back. He swung to the high-speed track and bracedhimself as he sped along the platform's rim.

There was no moving track inward to the enlisted Planeteers' squad rooms.He legged it down the corridor in long leaps, muttering apologies asblue-clad spacemen and cadets moved to the wall to let him pass.

The squad rooms were on two levels. He looked in the upper ones and foundthem deserted. The squads were on duty somewhere. He ran for the ladderto the lower level, took the wrong one, and ended up in a snapper-boatport. He had trained in the deadly little fighting rockets, and theynever failed to interest him. But there wasn't time to admire them now.He went back up the ladder with two strong heaves, found the rightladder, and dropped down without touching. His knees flexed to take upthe shock. He came out of the crouch facing a black-clad Planeteersergeant who snapped to rigid attention.

"He's not here, sir. He and eight men left fifteen minutes ago. I don'tknow where they went, sir."

Rip shot a worried glance at his wrist chronometer. He had two minutesleft before the cruiser departed. No more time now to search for his men.He hoped the sergeant major had sense enough to be waiting at somereasonable place. He went up the ladder hand over hand and sped down thecorridor to the supply room. The spaceman first class in charge ofsupplies was turning an audio-mag through a hand viewer, chuckling at thecartoons. At the sight of Rip's flushed, anxious face he dropped themachine. "Yessir?"

"Yessir." The spaceman looked him over with a practiced eye. "One fullspace pack. Medium-large, right, sir?"

"Correct." Rip took the counter stylus and inscribed his name, serialnumber, and signature on the blank plastic sheet. Gears whirred as thedata was recorded.

The spaceman vanished into an inner room and reappeared in a momentlugging a plastic case called a space pack, or "spack" for short. Itcontained complete personal equipment for space travel. Rip grabbed it."Fast service. Thanks, Rocky." All spacemen were called "Rocky" if youdidn't know their names. It was an abbreviation for rocketeer, a titleall of them had once carried.

Valve Eight was some distance away. Rip decided a cross ramp would befaster than the moving track. He swung the spack to his shoulder and madehis legs go. Seconds were ticking off, and he had an idea that the SCNScorpius would make space on time, whether or not he arrived. Helengthened his stride and rounded a turn by going right up on the wall,using a powerful leg thrust against a ventilator tube for momentum.

He passed an observation port as he reached the platform rim, and caughta glimpse of ruddy rocket exhaust flames outlined against the dark curveof Earth. That would be the Terra rocket making its controlled fall tohome, with Flip aboard. Without slowing, he leaped across the high-speedtrack, narrowly missing a senior space officer. He shouted his apologies,and gained the entrance to Valve Eight just as the high buzz of theradiation warning sounded, signaling a nuclear drive cruiser preparingto take off.

Nine faces of assorted colors and expressions turned to him. He had aquick impression of black tunics and trousers. He had found hisdetachment! Without slowing, he called, "Follow me!"

The cruiser's safety officer had been keeping an eye on the clock, hisforehead creased in a frown as he saw that only a few seconds remainedto departure time. He walked to the valve opening and looked out. If hispassengers were not in sight, he would have to reset the clock.

Rip went through the valve opening at top speed. He crashed head on intothe safety officer.

The safety officer was driven across the deck, his arms pumping forbalance. He grabbed at the nearest thing, which happened to be the deputycruiser commander.

The preset clock reached firing time. The valve slid shut and the takeoffbell reverberated through the ship.

And so it happened that the spacemen of the SCNScorpius turned theirvalves, threw their controls and disengaged their boron control rods, andthe great cruiser flashed into space—while the deputy commander and thesafety officer were completely tangled with a very flustered and unhappynew Planeteer lieutenant.

Sergeant Major Koa and his men had made it before the valve closed. Koa,a seven-foot Hawaiian, took in the situation and said crisply in a voiceall could hear, "I'll bust the bubble of any son of a space sausage wholaughs!"

CHAPTER TWO

Rake That Radiation!

The deputy commander and the safety officer got untangled and hurried totheir post, with no more than black looks at Rip. He got to his feet, hisface crimson with embarrassment. A fine entrance for a Planeteer officer,especially one on his first orders!

Around him the spacemen were settling in their acceleration seats orsnapping belts to safety hooks. From the direction of the stern came arising roar as methane, heated to a liquid, dropped into the blast tubes,flaming into pure carbon and hydrogen under the terrible heat of theatomic drive.

Rip had to lean against the acceleration. Fighting for balance, he pickedup his spack and made his way to the nine enlisted Planeteers. They hadbraced against the ship's drive by sitting with backs against bulkheadsor by lying flat on the magnesium deck. Sergeant Major Koa was seatedagainst a vertical brace, his brown face wreathed in a grin.

Rip looked him over carefully. There was a saying among the Planeteersthat an officer was only as good as his senior sergeant. Koa's looks werereassuring. His face was good-humored, but he had a solid jaw and a mouththat could get tough when necessary. Rip wondered a little at his size.Big men usually didn't go to space; they were too subject to spacesickness. Koa must be a special case.

Rip slid to the floor next to the sergeant major and stuck out his hand.He sensed the strength in Koa's big fist as it closed over his.

Koa said, "Sir, that was the bestfleedle I've ever seen an earthlingmake. You been on Venus?"

Rip eyed him suspiciously, wondering if the big Planeteer was laughing athim. Koa was grinning, but it was a friendly grin. "What is afleedle?"Rip demanded. "I've never been on Venus."

"It's the way the water hole people fight," Koa explained. "They're likea bunch of rubber balls when they get to fighting. They ram each otherwith their heads."

Rip searched his memory for data on Venus. He couldn't recall any mentionoffleedling. Venusians, if his memory was right, had a sort of blowgunas a main weapon. He told Koa so.

The sergeant major nodded. "That's when they mean business, Lieutenant.Fleedling is more like us fighting with our fists. Sort of a sport.Great Cosmos! The way they dive at each other is something to see."

Rip grinned. "I didn't know I was going tofleedle those officers. Itisn't the way I usually enter a cruiser." He hadn't entered many. Headded, "I suppose I ought to report to someone."

Koa shook his head. "No use, sir. You can't walk around very well untilthe ship reachesBrennschluss. Besides, you won't find any spaceofficers who'll talk to you."

"Because we're Planeteers. They'll give us the treatment. They always do.When the commander of this bucket gets good and ready, he'll send foryou. Until then, we might as well take it easy." He pulled a bar ofVenusianchru from his pocket. "Have some. It'll make breathingeasier."

The terrific acceleration made breathing a little uncomfortable, but itwas not too bad. The chief effect was to make Rip feel as though a tonof invisible feathers were crushing him against the vertical brace.He accepted a bite of the bittersweet vegetable candy and munchedthoughtfully. Koa seemed to take it for granted that the spacemen wouldgive them a rough time.

He asked, "Aren't there any spacemen who get along with the Special OrderSquadrons?"

"Never met one." Koa chewed chru. "And I was on theIcarus when thewhole thing started."

Rip looked at him in surprise. Koa didn't seem that old. The bad feelingbetween spacemen and the Special Order Squadrons had started abouteighteen years ago, when the cruiserIcarus had taken the firstPlaneteers to Mercury.

He reviewed the history of the expedition. The spacemen's job had been toland the newly created Special Order Squadron on the hot planet. The jobof the squadron was to explore it. Somehow confusion developed, and thespacemen, including the officers, later reported that the squadron hadinstructed them to land on the sun side of Mercury, which would havedestroyed the spaceship and its crew, or so they believed at the time.

The commanding officer of the squadron denied issuing such an order. Hesaid his instructions were to land as close as possible to the sun side,but not on it. Whatever the truth—and Rip believed the SOS version, ofcourse—the crew of theIcarus mutinied, or tried to. They made thelanding on Mercury with squadron guns pointed at their heads. Of course,they found that a sun-side landing wouldn't have hurt the ship. The wholeaffair was pretty well hushed up, but it produced bad feeling between theSpecial Order Squadrons and the spacemen. "Trigger-happy space bums," thespacemen called them, and much worse, besides.

The men of the Special Order Squadrons, searching for a handy nickname,had called themselves Planeteers, because most of their work was on theplanets. As Maj. Joe Barris had told the officers of Rip's class, "Youmight say the spacemen own space, but we Planeteers own everything solidthat's found in it."

The Planeteers were the specialists—in science, exploration,colonization, and fighting. The spacemen carried them back and forth,kept them supplied, and handled their message traffic. The Planeteers didthe hard work and the important work—or so they believed.

To become a Planeteer, a recruit had to pass rigid intelligence,physical, aptitude, and psychological tests. Fewer than fifteen out ofeach one hundred who applied were chosen. Then there were two years ofhard training on the space platform and the moon before a recruit wasfinally accepted as a Planeteer private. Out of each fifteen who startedtraining, an average of five fell by the wayside.

For Planeteer officers, the requirements were even tougher. Only one outof each five hundred applicants finally received a commission. Six yearsof training made them proficient in the techniques of exploration,fighting, rocketeering, and both navigation and astrogation. In addition,each became a full-fledged specialist in one field of science. Rip'sspecialty was astrophysics.

Sergeant Major Koa continued, "That business on theIcarus started thewar, but both sides have been feeding it ever since. I have to admit thatwe Planeteers lord it over the spacemen like we were old man Cosmoshimself. So they get back at us with dirty little tricks while we're ontheir ships. We command on the planets, but they command in space. Andthey sure get a great big nuclear charge out of commanding us to do thedirty work!"

"We'll take whatever they hand us," Rip assured him, "and pretend we likeit fine." He gestured at the other Planeteers. "Tell me about the men,Koa."

"They're a fine bunch, sir. I handpicked them myself. The one with thewhite hair is Corporal Nels Pederson, from Sweden. I served with him atMarsport, and he's a real tough spacewalker in a fight. The othercorporal is Paulo Santos. He's from the Philippines, and the bestsnapper-boat gunner you ever saw."

He pointed out the six privates. Kemp and Dowst were Americans. Bradshawwas an Englishman, Trudeau a Frenchman, Dominico an Italian, and Nunez aBrazilian.

Rip liked their looks. They were as relaxed as acceleration would allow,but you got the impression that they would leap into action in amicrosecond if the word were given. He couldn't imagine what kind ofassignment was waiting, but he was satisfied with his Planeteers. Theylooked capable of anything.

He made himself as comfortable as possible and encouraged Koa to talkabout his service in the Special Order Squadrons. Koa had plenty to tell,and he talked interestingly. Rip learned that the tall Hawaiian had beento every planet in the system, had fought the Venusians on the centraldesert, and had mined nuclite with SOS One on Mercury. He also found thatKoa was one of the seventeen pure-blooded Hawaiians left. During thethree hours that acceleration kept them from moving around the ship, Ripgot a new view of space and of service with the SOS—it was the view of aPlaneteer who had spent years around the Solar System.

"I'm glad they assigned you to me," Rip told Koa frankly. "This is myfirst job, and I'll be pretty green, no matter what it is. I'll dependon you for a lot of things."

To his surprise, Koa thrust out his hand. "Shake, Lieutenant." His grinshowed strong white teeth. "You're the first junior officer I ever metwho admitted he didn't know everything about everything. You can dependon me, sir. I won't steer you into any meteor swarms."

Koa had half turned to shake hands. Suddenly he spun on around, banginghis head against the deck. Rip felt a surge of relaxing muscles that hadbeen braced against acceleration. At the same time, silence flooded in onthem. Rip murmured "Brennschluss," and the murmur was like a trumpetblast.

TheScorpius had reached velocity, and the nuclear drive had cut out.From terrific acceleration, they had dropped to zero. The ship was makinghigh speed, but velocity cannot be felt. For the moment the men wereweightless.

A nearby spaceman had heard Rip's comment. He spoke in an undertone tothe man nearest. His voice was pitched low enough that Rip couldn'tobject officially, but loud and clear enough to be heard by everyone.

"Get this, gang. The Planeteer officer knows whatBrennschluss is. Hedoesn't look old enough to know which end his bubble goes on."

Rip started to his feet, but Koa's hand on his arm restrained him. With aviolent kick, the big sergeant major shot through the air. His line offlight took him past the spaceman, and somehow their arms got linked. Thespaceman was jerked from his post, and the two came to a stop against theceiling.

Koa's voice echoed through the ship. "Sorry. I'm not used to no-weight.Didn't mean to grab you. Here, I'll help you back to your post."

He whirled the helpless spaceman like a bag of feathers and slung himthrough the air. The force of the action only flattened Koa against theceiling, but the hapless spaceman shot forward head first and landed witha clang against the bulkhead. He didn't hit hard enough to break anybones, but he would carry a bump on his head for a day or two.

Koa's voice floated after him. "Great Cosmos! I sure am sorry, spaceman.I guess I don't know my own strength." He kicked away from the ceiling,landing accurately at Rip's side. He added in a hard voice all couldhear, "They sure are a nice gang, these spacemen. They never say anythingabout Planeteers."

No spaceman answered, but Koa's meaning was clear. No spaceman had bettersay anything about the Planeteers! Rip saw that the deputy commander andthe safety officer had appeared not to notice the incident. Technically,there was no reason for an officer to take action. It had all been an"accident." He smiled. There was a lot he had to learn about dealing withspacemen, a lot Koa evidently knew very well indeed.

Suddenly he began to feel weight. The ship was going into rotation. Thefeeling increased until he felt normally heavy again. There was no othersensation, even though the space cruiser was now spinning on its axisthrough space at unaltered speed. The centrifugal force produced by thespinning gave them an artificial gravity.

Now that he thought about it,Brennschluss had come pretty early. Thetrip apparently was going to be a short one.Brennschluss—funny, hethought, how words stay on in a language, even after their originalmeaning is changed.Brennschluss was German for "burn out." It wasrocket talk, and it meant the moment when all the fuel in a rocket burnedout. It had come into common use because the English "burn out" couldalso mean that the engine itself had burned out. The German word meantonly the one thing. Now, in nuclear drive ships, the same word was usedfor the moment when power was cut off.

Words interested him. He started to mention it to Koa just as thetelescreen lit up. An officer's face appeared. "Send that Planeteerofficer to the commander," the face said. "Tell him to show an exhaust."

Rip followed the spaceman through a maze of passages, growing moreweightless with each step. The closer to the center of the ship theywent, the less he weighed. He was drawing himself along by plastic pullcords when they finally reached the door markedCOMMANDER.

The spaceman left without a word or a salute. Rip pushed the lock bar andpulled himself in by grabbing the door frame. He couldn't help thinkingit was a rather undignified way to make an entrance.

Seated in an acceleration chair, a safety belt across his middle,was Space Commander Kevin O'Brine, an Irishman out of Dublin. He wasshort, as compact as a deto-rocket, and obviously unfriendly. He had amathematically square jaw, a lopsided nose, green eyes, and sandy hair.He spoke with a pronounced Irish brogue.

Rip started to announce his name, rank, and the fact that he wasreporting as ordered. Commander O'Brine brushed his words aside andstated flatly, "You're a Planeteer. I don't like Planeteers."

Rip didn't know what to say, so he kept still. But sharp anger was risinginside of him.

O'Brine went on. "Instructions say I'm to hand you your orders en route.They don't say when. I'll decide that. Until I do decide, I have a jobfor you and your men. Do you know anything about nuclear physics?"

"I'll assume you know nothing. Foster, the designation SCN means SpaceCruiser, Nuclear. This ship is powered by a nuclear reactor—in otherwords, an atomic pile. You've heard of one?"

Rip controlled his voice, but his red hair stood on end with anger.O'Brine was being deliberately insulting. This was stuff any Planeteerrecruit knew. "I've heard, sir."

"Fine. It's more than I had expected. Well, Foster, a nuclear reactorproduces heat. Great heat. We use that heat to turn a chemical calledmethane into its component parts. Methane is known as marsh gas, Foster.I wouldn't expect a Planeteer to know that. It is composed of carbon andhydrogen. When we pump it into the heat coils of the reactor, it breaksdown and creates a gas that burns and drives us through space. But thatisn't all it does."

Rip had an idea what was coming, and he didn't like it. Nor did he likeCommander O'Brine. It was not until much later that he learned thatO'Brine had been on his way to Terra, to see his family for the firsttime in four years, when the cruiser's orders were changed. To thecommander, whose assignments had been made necessary by the needs of theSpecial Order Squadrons, it was too much. So he took his disappointmentout on the nearest Planeteer, who happened to be Rip.

"The gases go through tubes," O'Brine went on. "A little nuclear materialalso leaks into the tubes. The tubes get coated with carbon, Foster.They also get coated with nuclear fuel. We use thorium. Thorium isradioactive. I won't give you a lecture on radioactivity, Foster. Butthorium mostly gives off the kind of radiation known as alpha particles.Alpha is not dangerous unless breathed or eaten. It won't go throughclothes or skin. But when mixed with fine carbon, thorium alphacontamination makes a mess. It's a dirty mess, Foster—so dirty thatI don't want my spacemen to fool with it.

"I want you to take care of it instead—you and your men. The deputycommander will assign you to a squad room. Settle in, then draw equipmentfrom the supply room and get going. When I want to talk to you again,I'll call for you. Now blast off, Lieutenant, and rake that radiation.Rake it clean."

Rip forced a bright and friendly smile. "Yes, sir," he said sweetly."We'll rake it so clean you can see your face in it, sir." He paused,then added politely. "If you don't mind looking at your face, sir—to seehow clean the tubes are, I mean."

Koa was waiting in the passageway outside. Rip told him what hadhappened, mimicking O'Brine's Irish accent.

The sergeant major shook his head sadly. "This is what I meant,Lieutenant. Cruisers don't clean their tubes more'n once in tenaccelerations. The commander is just thinking up dirty work for usto do, like I said."

"Never mind," Rip told him. "Let's find our squad room and get settled,then draw some protective clothing and equipment. We'll clean his tubesfor him. Our turn will come later."

He remembered the last thing Joe Barris had said, only a few hoursbefore.Joe was right, he thought.To ourselves we're supermen, but tothe spacemen we're just simps. Evidently O'Brine was the kind of spaceofficer who ate Planeteers for breakfast.

Rip thought of the way the commander had turned red with rage at thatcrack about his face, and he resolved,He may eat me for breakfast, butI'll be a very tough mouthful!

CHAPTER THREE

Capture and Drive!

Commander O'Brine had not exaggerated. The residue of carbon and thoriumon the blast tube walls was stubborn, dirty, and penetrating. It wascaked on in a solid sheet, but when scraped, it broke up into finepowder.

The Planeteers wore coveralls, gloves, and face masks with respirators,but that didn't prevent the stuff from sifting through onto their bodies.Rip, who directed the work and kept track of the radiation with agamma-beta ion chamber and an alpha proportional counter, knew they wouldhave to undergo personal decontamination.

He took a reading on the ion chamber. Only a few milliroentgens of betaand gamma radiation. That was the dangerous kind, because both betaparticles and gamma rays could penetrate clothing and skin. But thePlaneteers wouldn't get enough of a dose to do any harm at all. Thealpha count was high, but so long as they didn't breathe any of the dust,it was not dangerous.

TheScorpius had six tubes. Rip divided the Planeteers into two squads,one under his direction and one under Koa's. Each tube took a couple ofhours' hard work. Several times during the cleaning, the men would leavethe tube and go into the main mixing chamber while the tube was blastedwith live steam to throw the stuff they had scraped off out into space.

Each squad was on its last tube when a spaceman arrived. He saluted Rip."Sir, the safety officer says to secure the tubes."

That could mean only one thing: deceleration. Rip rounded up his men."We're finished. The safety officer passed the word to secure the tubes,which means we're going to decelerate." He smiled grimly. "You all knowthey gave us this job just out of pure love for the Planeteers. Soremember it when you go through the control room to the decontaminationchamber."

Rip led the way from the mixing chamber, through the heavy safety door,and into the engine control room. His entrance was met with poorlyconcealed grins by the spacemen.

Halfway across the room, Rip turned suddenly and bumped into SergeantMajor Koa. Koa fell to the deck, arms flailing for balance—but flailingagainst his protective clothing. The other Planeteers rushed to pick himup, and somehow all their hands beat against each other.

The protective clothing was saturated with fine dust. It rose from themin a choking cloud and was picked up and dispersed by the ventilatingsystem. It was contaminated dust. The automatic radiation safetyequipment filled the ship with an earsplitting buzz of warning. Spacemenclapped emergency respirators to their faces and spoke unkindly of Rip'sPlaneteers in the saltiest space language possible.

Rip and his men picked up Koa and continued the march to thedecontamination room, grinning under their respirators at theconsternation around them. There was no danger to the spacemen, sincethey had clapped on respirators the moment the warning sounded. But evena little contamination meant the whole ship had to be gone over withinstruments, and the ventilating system would have to be cleaned.

The deputy commander met Rip at the door of the radiation room. Above therespirator, his face looked furious.

"Lieutenant," he bellowed, "haven't you any more sense than to bringcontaminated clothing into the engine control room?"

Rip was sorry the deputy commander couldn't see him grinning under hisrespirator. He said innocently, "No, sir, I haven't any more sense thanthat."

Rip was enjoying himself thoroughly. "I don't think so, sir. Theregulations are very clear. They say, 'It is the responsibility of thesafety officer to insure compliance with all safety regulations by bothcomplete instructions to personnel and personal supervision.' Your safetyofficer didn't instruct us, and he didn't supervise us. You'd better runhim up before the Board."

The deputy commander made harsh sounds into his respirator. Rip had him,and he knew it. "He thought even a stupid Planeteer had sense enough toobey radiation safety rules," he yelled.

"He was wrong," Rip said gently. Then, just to make himself perfectlyclear, he added, "Commander O'Brine was within his rights when he made usrake radiation. But he forgot one thing. Planeteers know the regulations,too. Excuse me, sir. I have to get my men decontaminated."

Inside the decontamination chamber, the Planeteers took off their masksand faced Rip with admiring grins. For a moment he grinned back, feelingpretty good. He had held his own with the spacemen, and he sensed thathis men liked him.

In a few moments they were all standing under the chemically treatedwater, washing off the contaminated dust. Rip paid special attention tohis hair, because that was where the dust was most likely to stick. Hehad it well lathered when the water suddenly cut off. At the same moment,the cruiser shuddered slightly as control blasts stopped its spinning andleft them all weightless. Rip saw instantly what had happened. He called,"All right, men. Down on the floor."

The Planeteers instantly slid to the shower deck. In a few seconds thepressure of deceleration pushed at them.

"I like spacemen," Rip said wryly. "They wait until just the right momentbefore they cut the water and decelerate. Now we're stuck in our birthdaysuits until we land—wherever that may be."

Corporal Nels Pederson spoke up in a soft Stockholm accent. "Never mind,sir. We'll get back at them. We always do!"

While theScorpius decelerated and started maneuvering for a landing,Rip did some rapid calculations. He knew the acceleration anddeceleration rates of cruisers of this class, measured in terms of time,and part of his daily routine on the space platform had been to examinethe daily astroplot, which gave the positions of all planets and otherlarge bodies within the solar system.

Rip's pulse quickened. He had always wanted to visit the red planet. Ofcourse, he had seen all the films, audio-mags, and books concerning it,and he had tried to see the weekly spacecast. He had a good idea of whatthe planet was like, but reading or viewing was not like actually landingand taking a look for himself.

Of course, they would land at Marsport. It was the only landing areaequipped to handle nuclear drive cruisers.

The cruiser landed and deceleration cut to zero. At the same moment thewater came on.

Rip hurriedly finished cleaning up, dressed, then took his radiationinstruments and carefully monitored his men as they came from theshower. Private Dowst had to go back for another try at getting his hairclean, but the rest were all right. Rip handed his instruments to Koa."You monitor Dowst when he finishes. I want to see what's happening."

He hurried from the chamber and made his way down the corridors towardthe engine control room. There was a good possibility he might get a callfrom O'Brine, with instructions to take his men off the ship. He mightfinally learn what he was assigned to do!

As he reached the engine control room, Commander O'Brine was givinginstructions to his spacemen on the stowage of equipment that evidentlywas expected aboard. Rip felt a twinge of disappointment. If theScorpius had landed to take on supplies of some kind, his assignmentwas probably not on Mars.

He started to approach the commander with a question about his orders,then thought better of it. He stood quietly near the control panel andwatched.

The air lock hissed, then slid open. A Martian stood in the entryway, acase on his shoulder. Rip watched him with interest. He had seen Martiansbefore, on the space platform, but he had never gotten used to them. Theywere human, still....

He tried to figure out, as he had before, what it was that made themstrange. It wasn't the blue-whiteness of their skins nor the very large,expressionless eyes. It was something about their bodies. He studied theMartian's figure carefully. He was slightly taller and more slender thanthe average earthman, but his chest measurements would be about the same.Nor were his legs very much longer.

Suddenly Rip thought he had it. The Martian's legs and arms joined historso at a slightly different angle, giving him an angular look. That waswhat made him look like a caricature of a human, although he was human,of course—as human as any of them.

Rip saw that other Martians were in the air lock, all carrying cases ofvarious sizes and shapes. They came through into the control room and putthem down, then turned without a word and hurried back into the lock.They were all breathing heavily, Rip noticed. Of course! The artificialatmosphere inside the spaceship must seem very heavy and moist to them,after the thin, dry air of Mars.

The lock worked, and the Martians were replaced by others. They, too,deposited their cases. But these cases were bigger and heavier. It tookfour Martians to carry one, which meant they weighed close to half a toneach. The Martians could carry more than double an earthman's capacity.

When the lock worked next time, a Planeteer captain came in. He breathedthe heavy air appreciatively, fingering the oxygen mask he had to wearoutside. He saluted Commander O'Brine and reported, "This is all, sir. Wefilled the order exactly as Terra sent it. Is there anything else youneed?"

O'Brine turned to his deputy. "Find out," he ordered. "This is our lastchance. We have plenty of basic supplies, but we may be short ofaudio-mags and other things for the men." He turned his back on thePlaneteer captain and walked away.

The captain grinned at O'Brine's retreating back, then walked over toRip. They shook hands.

Rip introduced himself and said he was an American. He added, "And asidefrom my men, you're the first human being I've seen since we made space."

Talking about assignments wasn't considered good practice, but Rip wasburning with curiosity. "You don't by chance know what my assignmentis, do you?"

"I don't know a thing," Southwick said. "We got instructions to pack up apretty strange assortment of supplies for theScorpius, and that's allI know. The order was in special cipher, though, so we're all wonderingabout it."

The deputy commander returned, reported to O'Brine, then walked up to Ripand Southwick. "Nothing else needed," he said curtly. "We'll get off atonce."

Southwick nodded, shook hands with Rip, and said in a voice the deputycould hear, "Don't let these spacemen bother you. Trouble with them isthey all wanted to be Planeteers and couldn't pass the intelligencetests." He winked, then hurried to the air lock.

Spacemen worked quickly to clear the deck of the new supplies, stowingthem in a nearby workroom. Within five minutes the engine control roomwas clear. The safety officer signaled, and the radiation warningsounded. Taking off!

Rip hurried to the squad room and climbed into an acceleration chair. Theother Planeteers were already in the room, most of them in their bunks.Koa slid into the chair beside him. "Find out anything, sir?"

"Nothing useful. A bunch of equipment came aboard, but it was in plaincrates. I couldn't tell what it was."

Acceleration pressed them against the chairs. Rip sighed, picked up anaudio-circuit set, and put it over his ears. Might as well listen to whatthe circuit had to offer. There was nothing else to do. Music wasplaying, and it was the kind he liked. He settled back to relax andlisten.

Brennschluss came some time later. It woke Rip up from a sound sleep.He blinked, glancing at his chronometer. Great Cosmos! With that lengthof acceleration they must be high-vacking for Jupiter! He waited untilthe ship went into the gravity spin, then got out of his chair andstretched. He was hungry. Koa was still sleeping. He decided not to wakehim. The sergeant major would see that the men ate when they wanted to.

Rip gave him a civil hello and started to sit alone at another table. Tohis surprise, O'Brine beckoned to him.

"We'll start to decelerate in about ten minutes," O'Brine said. "Eatwhile you can." He signaled, and a spaceman brought Rip the day's rationin an individual plastic carton with thermo-lining. The Planeteer openedit and found a block of mixed vegetables, a slab of space meat, and twounits of biscuit. He wrinkled his nose. Space meat he didn't mind. It waschewy but tasty. The mixed vegetable ration was chosen for its food valueand not for taste. A good mouthful of Earth grass would be a lot morepalatable. He sliced off pieces of the warm stuff and chewedthoughtfully, watching O'Brine's face for a clue as to why the commanderhad invited him to sit down.

It wasn't long in coming. "Your orders are the strangest things I've everread," O'Brine stated. "Do you know where we're going?"

Rip figured quickly. They had accelerated for six and a half hours. Now,ten minutes afterBrennschluss, they were going to start deceleration.That meant they had really high-vacked it to get somewhere in a hurry. Hecalculated swiftly.

"I don't know exactly," he admitted. "But from the ship's actions, I'dsay we were aiming for the far side of the asteroid belt. Anyway, we'llfall short of Jupiter."

There was a glimmer of respect in O'Brine's glance. "That's right. Knowanything about asteroids, Foster?"

Rip considered. He knew what he had been taught in astronomy andastrogation. Between Mars and Jupiter lay a broad belt in which theasteroids swung. They ranged from Ceres, a tiny world only 480 miles indiameter, down to chunks of rock the size of a house. No accurate countof asteroids—or minor planets, as they were called—had been made, butthe observatory on Mars had charted the orbits of thousands. A few weremore than a mile in diameter, but most were great boulders of irregularshape, from a few feet to several hundred feet at their greatestdimension.

"I know the usual stuff about them," he told O'Brine. "I haven't anyspecial knowledge."

"Astrogation." He couldn't resist adding, "That's more advanced than thesimple space navigation you use, Commander."

O'Brine started to retort, then apparently thought better of it. "I hopeyou'll be able to carry out your orders, Lieutenant," he said stiffly."I hope, but not much. I don't think you can."

O'Brine waved in the general direction of the wall. "Out there somewherein the asteroid belt, Foster, there is a little chunk of matter about onethousand yards in diameter. A very minor planet. We know its approximatecoordinates as of two days ago, but we don't know much else. It happensto be a very important minor planet."

Rip gasped. Thorium! The rare, radioactive element just below uranium inthe periodic table of the elements, the element used to power this veryship! "What a find!" he said in a hushed voice. No wonder the job wasFederation priority A, with Space Council security! "What do I do aboutit?" he asked.

O'Brine grinned. "Ride it," he said. "Your orders say you're to capturethis asteroid, blast it out of its orbit, and drive it back to Earth!"

CHAPTER FOUR

Find the Needle!

Rip walked into the squad room with a copy of the orders in his hand.After one look at his face, the Planeteers clustered around him. Santoswoke those who were sleeping, while Rip waited.

"We have our orders, men," he announced. Suddenly he laughed. He couldn'thelp it. At first he had been completely overcome by the responsibilityand the magnitude of the job, but now he was getting used to the idea,and he could see the adventure in it. Ten wild Planeteers riding anasteroid! Sunny space, what a great big thermonuclear stunt!

Koa remarked, "It must be good. The lieutenant is getting a real atomiccharge out of it."

"Sit down," Rip ordered. "You'd better, because you might fall over whenyou hear this. Listen, men. Two days ago the freighterAltair passedthrough the asteroid belt on a run from Jupiter to Mars." He sat down,too, because deceleration was starting. As his men looked at each otherin surprise at the quickness of it, he continued, "The old bucket foundsomething we need—an asteroid of pure thorium."

The enlisted Planeteers knew as well as he what that meant. There werewhistles of astonishment. Koa slapped his thigh. "By Gemini! What do wedo about it, sir?"

"We capture it," Rip said. "We blast it loose from its orbit and ride itback to Earth."

He sat back and watched their reactions. At first they were stunned.Trudeau, the Frenchman, muttered to himself in French. Dominico, theItalian, held up his hands and exclaimed, "Santa Maria!"

That stopped them. They stared at him. He added quickly, "Supplies cameaboard at Marsport. We'll get the clue when we open them. Headquartersmust have known the method when they assigned us and ordered theequipment they thought we'd need."

Koa stood up. He was the only one who could have moved upright againstthe terrific deceleration. He walked to a rack at one side of the squadroom and took down a copy ofThe Space Navigator. Then, resuming hisseat, he looked questioningly at Rip. "Anything else, sir? I thought I'dread what there is about asteroids."

"Go ahead," Rip agreed. He sat back as Koa began to recite what datathere was, but he didn't listen. His mind was going ten astro-unitsa second. He thought he knew why he had been chosen for the job. Word ofthe priceless asteroid must have reached headquarters only a short timebefore he was scheduled to leave the space platform. He could imagine thespeed with which the specialists at Terra base had acted. They had sentorders instantly to the fastest cruiser in the area, theScorpius, tostand by for further instructions. Then their personnel machines musthave whirred rapidly, electronic brains searching for the nearestavailable Planeteer officer with an astrophysics specialty andastrogation training.

He could imagine the reaction when the machine turned up the name of abrand-new lieutenant. But the choice was logical enough. He knew thatmost, if not all, of the Planeteer astrophysicists were in either highor low space on special work. Chances were there was no astrophysicistnearer than Ganymede. So the choice had fallen to him.

He had a mental image of the Terra base scientists feeding data into theelectronic brain, taking the results, and writing fast orders for the menand supplies needed. Work at the Planeteer base had probably beenfinished within an hour of the time word was received.

When they opened the cases brought aboard by the Martians, he would seethat the method of blasting the asteroid into a course for Earth was allfigured out for him.

Rip was anxious to get at those cases. Not until he saw the method ofoperation could he begin to figure his course. But there was nopossibility of getting at the stuff untilBrennschluss. He put theproblem out of his mind and concentrated on what his men were saying.

"... and he slugged into that asteroid going close to seven AU's," Santoswas saying. The corporal shrugged expressively.

Rip recognized the story. It was about a supply ship, a chemical driverocket job, that had blasted into an asteroid a few years before.

Private Dowst shrugged, too. "Too bad. High vack was waiting for him.Nothing you can do when Old Man Nothing wants you. Not a thing in space!"

Rip listened, interested. This was the talk of old space hands, whohad given the high vacuum of empty space a personality, calling it"high vack," or "Old Man Nothing." With understandable fatalism, theybelieved—or said they believed—that when high vacuum really wantedyou, there was nothing you could do.

Rip had come across an interesting bit of word knowledge. Spacemen andPlaneteers alike had a way of using the phrase "by Gemini!" Gemini, ofcourse, was the constellation of the Twins, Castor and Pollux. Both wereuseful stars for astrogation. The Roman horse soldiers of ancient historyhad sworn "by Gemini," or "by the Twins." The Romans believed the starswere the famous Greek warriors Castor and Pollux, placed in the heavensafter their deaths. In later years, the phrase degenerated to the simple"by jiminy," and its meaning had been lost. Now, although few spacemenknew the history of the phrase, they were using it again, correctly.

Other space talk grew out of space itself, not out of history. Forinstance, the worst thing that could happen to a man was to have hishelmet broken. Let the transparent globe be shattered, and the resultswere both quick and final. Hence the oft heard threat, "I'll bust yourbubble."

Speaking of bubbles ... Rip realized suddenly that he and his men wouldhave to live in bubbles and space suits while on the asteroid. None ofthe minor planets were big enough to have an atmosphere or much gravity.

If only he could get a look into those cases! But the ship was stilldecelerating, and he would have to wait. He put his head against thechair rest and settled down to wait as patiently as he could.

Brennschluss was a long time coming. When the deceleration finallystopped, Rip didn't wait for gravity. He hauled himself out of the chairand the squad room and went down the corridor hand over hand. He headedstraight for where the supplies were stacked, his Planeteers close behindhim.

Commander O'Brine arrived at the same time. "We're starting to scan forthe asteroid," he greeted Rip. "May be some time before we find it."

"Just above the asteroid belt near the outer edge. We're beyond theposition where the asteroid was sighted, moving along what theAltairfigured as its orbit. I'm not stretching space, Foster, when I tell youwe're hunting for a needle in a junk pile. This part of space is filledwith more objects than you would imagine, and they all register on therad screens."

O'Brine nodded. "Yes. But it probably will take some hunting. Meanwhile,let's get at those cases. The supply clerk is on his way."

The supply clerk arrived, issued tools to the Planeteers, then opened aplastic case attached to one of the boxes and produced lists. As thePlaneteers opened and unpacked the crates, Rip and O'Brine inspected, andthe clerk checked off the items.

The first case produced a complete chemical cutting unit, with anassortment of cutting tips and adapters. Rip looked around for the gascylinders and saw none. "Something's wrong," he objected. "Where's thefuel supply for the torch?"

"The following," he read, "are to be supplied from theScorpiuscomplement. One landing boat, large, model twenty-eight. Eight each,oxygen cutting unit gas bottles. Four each, chemical cutting unit fueltanks."

"That's that," Rip said, relieved. Apparently he was supposed to do a lotof cutting on the asteroid, probably of the thorium itself. The hot flameof the torch could melt any known substance. The torch itself could meltin unskilled hands.

The next case yielded a set of astrogation instruments, carefully cradledin a soft, rubbery plastic. Rip left them in the case and put them to oneside. As he did so, Sergeant Major Koa let out a whistle of surprise.

Corporal Santos exclaimed, "Well, stonker me for a stupid space squid! Dothey expect us to find any people on this asteroid?"

The object was a portable rocket launcher designed to fire light attackrockets. It was a standard item of fighting equipment for Planeteers.

"I recognize the shape of those cases over there, now," Koa said. "Tenracks of rockets for the launcher, one rack to a case."

Rip scratched his head. He was as puzzled as Santos. Why supply fightingequipment for a crew on an asteroid that couldn't possibly have anyliving thing on it?

He left the puzzle for the future and called for more cases. The nexttwo yielded projectile-type handguns for ten men, with ammunition, andstandard Planeteer space knives. The space knives had hidden blades,which were driven forth violently when the operator pushed a thumb lever,releasing the gas in a cartridge contained in the handle. The bladessnapped forth with enough force to break a bubble or to cut through aspace suit. They were designed for the sole purpose of space hand-to-handcombat.

The Planeteers looked at each other. What were they up against, that suchequipment was needed on a barren asteroid?

Private Dowst opened a box that contained a complete tool kit, the toolsdesigned to be handled by men in space suits. Yards of wire, for severalpurposes, were wound on reels. Two hand-driven dynamos capable ofdeveloping great power were included.

Corporal Pederson found a small case which contained books, the latestastronomical data sheets, and a space computer and scratch board. Thesewere obviously for Rip's personal use. He examined them. There were allthe references he would need for computing orbit, speed, and just aboutanything else that might be required. He had to admire the thoroughnessof whoever had written the order. The unknown Planeteer had assumed thatthe space cruiser would not have all the astrophysics referencesnecessary and had included a copy of each.

Several large cases remained. Koa ripped the side from one and let out anexclamation. Rip hurried over and looked in. His stomach did a quickorbital reverse. Great Cosmos! The thing was an atomic bomb!

Commander O'Brine leaned over his shoulder and peered at the lettering onthe cylinder:EQUIVALENT TEN KT.

In other words, the explosion the harmless-looking cylinder could producewas equivalent to ten thousand tons of TNT, a chemical explosive nolonger in actual use but still used for comparison.

Rip asked huskily, "Any more of those things?" The importance of the jobwas becoming increasingly clear to him. Nuclear explosives were not usedwithout good reason. The fissionable material was too valuable for otherpurposes.

The sides came off the remaining cases. Some of them held fat tubes ofconventional rocket fuel in solid form, the igniters carefully packedseparately.

There were three other atomic bombs, making four in all. There were twobombs each of five KT and ten KT.

Commander O'Brine looked at the amazing assortment of stuff. "Does thatcheck, clerk?"

The spaceman nodded. "Yes, sir. I found another notation that says foodsupplies and personal equipment to be supplied by theScorpius."

"Well, vack me for a Venusian rabbit!" O'Brine muttered. He tugged at hisear. "You could dump me on that asteroid with this assortment of junk,and I'd spend the rest of my life there. I don't see how you can use thisstuff to move an asteroid!"

"Maybe that's why the Federation sent Planeteers," Rip said—and wassorry the moment the words were out.

O'Brine's jaw muscles bulged, but he held his temper. "I'm going topretend I didn't hear that, Foster. We have to get along until theasteroid is safely in an orbit around Earth. After that, I'm going totake a great deal of pleasure in feeding you to the space fish, pieceby piece."

It was Rip's turn to get red. "I'm sorry, Commander. Accept myapologies." He certainly had a lot to learn about space etiquette. Therewas a time for spacemen and Planeteers to fight each other and a time forthem to cooperate.

"I'm sure you'll be able to figure out what to do with this stuff,"O'Brine said. "If you need help, let me know."

The deputy commander arrived, drew O'Brine aside, and whispered in hisear. The commander let out an exclamation and started out of the room. Atthe door he turned. "Better come along, Foster."

Rip followed as the commander led the way to his own quarters. At thedoor two space officers were waiting, their faces grave.

The senior space officer held out a sheet of flimsy. It was pale blue,the color used for highly confidential documents. "Sir, this came inSpace Council special cipher."

"Yes, sir. It's addressed to you, this ship. From Planeteer Intelligence,Marsport. 'Consops cruiser departed general direction your area. Agentsreport crewAltair may have leaked data re asteroid. Take appropriateaction.' It's signed 'Williams, SOS, Commanding.'"

Rip saw the meaning of the message instantly. The Consolidation ofPeople's Governments, of Earth, traditional enemies and rivals of theFederation of Free Governments, needed radioactive minerals as badly as,or worse than, the Federation. In space it was first come, first take.They had to find the asteroid quickly. It was to prevent Consops fromknowing of the asteroid that security measures had been taken. Theyhadn't worked, because of loose space chatter at Marsport.

O'Brine issued quick orders. "Now, get this. We have to work fast.Accelerate fifty percent, same course. I want two men on each screen.If anything of the right size shows up, decelerate until we can get massand albedo measurements. Snap to it."

The space officers started out, but O'Brine stopped them. "Use onelong-range screen for scanning high space toward Mars. Let me knowthe minute you get a blip, because it probably will be that Consopscruiser. Have the missile ports cleared for action."

Rip's eyes opened. Clear the missile ports? That meant getting thecruiser in fighting shape, ready for instant action. "You wouldn't fireon that Consops cruiser, would you, sir?"

O'Brine gave him a grim smile. "Certainly not, Foster. It's againstorders to start anything with Consops cruisers. You know why. Thesituation is so tense that a fight between two spaceships might plungeEarth into war." His smile got even grimmer. "But you never know. TheConsops ship might fire first. Or an accident might happen."

The commander leaned forward. "We'll find that asteroid for you, Mr.Planeteer. We'll put you on it and see you on your way. Then we'll ridespace along with you, and if any Consops thieves try to take over andcollect that thorium for themselves, they'll find Kevin O'Brine waiting.That's a promise."

Rip felt a lot better. He sat back in his chair and regarded thecommander with mixed respect and something else. Against his will, hewas beginning to like the man. No doubt of it, theScorpius was wellnamed. And the sting in the scorpion's tail was O'Brine himself.

CHAPTER FIVE

The Gray World

Rip rejoined his Planeteers in the supply room and motioned for themto gather around him. "I know why Terra base sent us the fightingequipment," he announced. "They were afraid word of this thorium asteroidwould leak out to Consops—and it has. A Connie cruiser blasted off fromMarsport and it's headed this way."

He watched the faces of his men carefully, to see how they would take thenews. They merely looked at each other and shrugged. Conflict withConsops was nothing new to them.

"The freighter that found the asteroid landed at Marsport, didn't it?"Koa asked. Getting a nod from Rip, he went on, "Then I know what probablyhappened. The two things spacemen can't do are breathe high vack and keeptheir mouths shut. Some of the crew blabbed about the asteroid, probablyat the Space Club. That's where they hang out. The Connies hang outthere, too. Result, we get a Connie cruiser after the asteroid."

Corporal Santos shrugged. "If the Connies try to take the asteroid away,they'll have a real warm time. We have ten racks of rockets, twenty-fourto a rack. That's a lot of snapper-boats we can pick off if they try tomake a landing."

The Planeteers stopped talking as the voice horn sounded. "Get it! We aregoing into no-weight. Prepare to stay in no-weight indefinitely. Rotationstops in two minutes."

Rip realized why the order was given. TheScorpius could not maneuverwhile in a gravity spin, and O'Brine wanted to be free to take action ifnecessary.

The voice horn came on again. "Now get it again. The ship may maneuversuddenly. Prepare for acceleration or deceleration without warning. Oneminute to no-weight."

Rip gave quick orders. "Get lines around the equipment and prepare tohaul it. I'll get landing boats assigned, and we can load. Then preparespace packs. Lay out suits and bubbles. We want to be ready to go themoment we get the word."

Lines were taken from a locker and secured to the equipment. As thePlaneteers worked, the ship's spinning slowed and stopped. They werein no-weight. Rip grabbed for a hand cord that hung from the wall andhauled himself out into the engine control room. The deputy commander wasat his post, waiting tensely for orders. Rip thrust against a bulkheadwith one foot and floated to his side. "I need two landing boats, sir,"he requested. "One stays on the asteroid with us."

"Take numbers five and six. I'll assign a pilot to bring number five backto the ship after you've landed."

"Thank you." Rip would have been surprised at the deputy's quick assentif Commander O'Brine hadn't shown him that the spacemen were ready to doanything possible to aid the Planeteers. He went back to the supply roomand told Koa which boats were to be used, instructed him to get thesupplies aboard, then made his way to Commander O'Brine's office.

O'Brine was not in. Rip searched and found him in the astroplot room,watching a 'scope. Green streaks called "blips" marked the panel, eachone indicating an asteroid.

"All too small," O'Brine said. "We've only seen two large ones, and theywere too large."

"Space is certainly full of junk," Rip commented. "At least this cornerof it is pretty full."

A junior space officer overheard him. "This is nothing. We're on the edgeof the asteroid belt. Closer to the middle, there's so much stuff a shiphas to crawl through it."

Rip wandered over to the main control desk. A senior space officer wasseated before a simple panel on which there were only a dozen smalllevers, a visiphone, and a radar screen. The screen was circular, withnumbers around the rim like those on an Earth clock. In the center of thescreen was a tiny circle. The central circle represented theScorpius.The rest of the screen was the area dead ahead. Rip watched and sawseveral blips on it that indicated asteroids. They were all small. Hewatched, interested, as theScorpius overtook them. Once, according tothe screen, the cruiser passed under an asteroid, with a clearance ofonly a few hundred feet.

"Don't have to miss by much," he retorted. "A few feet are as good as amile in space. Our blast might kick them around a little, and maybethere's a little mutual mass attraction, but we don't worry about it."

He pointed to a blip that was just swimming into view, a sharp greenpoint against the screen. "We do have to worry about that one." Heselected a lever and pulled it toward him.

Rip felt sudden weight against his feet. The green point on the screenmoved downward, below center. The feeling of weight ceased. He knew whathad happened, of course. Around the hull of the ship, set in evenlyspaced lines, were a series of blast holes through which steam was fired.The steam was produced instantly by running water through the heat coilsof the nuclear engine. By using groups or combinations of steam tubes,the control officer could move the ship in any direction, set it rolling,spin it end over end, or whirl it in an eccentric pattern.

"Depends on what's happening. If we were ducking missiles from an enemy,I'd get orders from the commander. But to duck asteroids, there's noproblem. I go over them by firing the steam tubes along the bottom of theship. That way, you feel the acceleration on your feet. If I fired thetop tubes, the ship would drop out from under those who were standing.They'd all end up on the overhead."

Rip watched for a while longer, then wandered back to Commander O'Brine.He was getting anxious. At first the task of capturing an asteroid andmoving it back to Earth had been rather unreal, like some of the problemshe had worked out while training on the space platform. Now he was nolonger calm about it. He had faith in the Terra base Planeteerspecialists, but they couldn't figure out everything for him. Most of theproblems of getting the asteroid back to Earth would have to be solved byLt. Richard Ingalls Peter Foster.

A junior space officer suddenly called, "Sir, I have a reading attwo-seventy degrees, twenty-three degrees eight minutes high."

Commander O'Brine jumped up so fast that the action shot him to theceiling. He kicked down again and leaned over the officer's 'scope.Rip got there by pulling himself right across the top of the chart table.

"It's about the right size," O'Brine said. There was excitement in hisvoice. "Correct course. Let's take a look at it."

All hands gripped something with which to steady themselves as thecruiser spun swiftly onto the new course. The control officer called,"I have it centered, sir. We'll reach it in about an hour at this speed."

"Jack it up," O'Brine ordered. "Heave some neutrons into it. Doublespeed, then decelerate to reach it in thirty minutes."

The control officer issued orders to the engine control room. In a momentacceleration plucked at them. O'Brine motioned to Rip. "Come on, Foster.Let's see what Analysis makes of this rock."

Rip followed the commander to the deck below, where the technicalanalysts were located. His heart was pounding a little faster than usual,and not from acceleration, either. He found himself wetting his lipsfrequently and thought,Get hold of it, boy. You've got nothing to worryabout but high vacuum.

He didn't really believe it. There would be plenty to worry about. Likedetonating nuclear bombs and trying to figure their blast reaction. Likefiguring out the course that would take them closest to the sun withoutpulling them into it. Like a thousand things—all of them up to him.

The chief analyst greeted them. "We got the orders to change course,Commander. That gave us the location of the asteroid. We're alreadyworking on it."

"No, sir. We'll have the albedo measurement in a few minutes. It'll takelonger to figure the mass."

The asteroid's efficiency in reflecting sunlight was its albedo. Theefficiency depended on the material of which it was made. The albedo ofpure metallic thorium was known. If the asteroid's albedo matched it,that would be one piece of evidence.

In the same way, the mass of thorium was known. The measurements of theasteroid were being taken. They would be compared with a chunk of thoriumof the same size. If it worked out, that would be evidence enough.

Commander O'Brine motioned to chairs. "Might as well sit down while we'rewaiting, Foster." He took one of the chairs and looked closely at Rip.Suddenly he grinned. "I thought Planeteers never got nervous."

"Who's nervous?" Rip retorted, then answered his own question truthfully."I am. You're right, sir. The closer we get, the more scared I get."

"That's a good sign," O'Brine replied. "It means you'll be careful. Gotany real doubts about the job?"

Rip thought it over and didn't think so. "Not any real ones. I think wecan do it. But I'm nervous just the same. Great Cosmos, Commander! Thisis my first assignment, and they give me a whole world to myself and tellme to bring it home. Maybe it isn't a very big world, but that doesn'tchange things much."

O'Brine chuckled. "I never expected to get an admission like that from aPlaneteer."

The chief analyst returned, a sheet of computations in his hand. "Report,sir. The albedo measurement is correct. This may be it."

"I'll need all possible data on the asteroid's speed, orbit, and physicalmeasurements. I will have to figure a new orbit and what it will take toblast the mass into it."

"We'll get those. The orbit will not be exact, of course. We have onlytwo reference points. But I think we'll come pretty close."

O'Brine nodded. "Do what you can, Chief. And when Foster gets down todoing his calculations, have your men run them through the electroniccomputer for him."

Rip thanked them both, then stood up. "Sir, I'm going back to my men. Iwant to be sure everything is ready. If there's a Connie cruiser headedthis way, we don't want to lose any time."

"Good idea. I think we'll dump you on the asteroid, Foster, and thenblast off. Not too far, of course. Just enough to lead the Connie awayfrom you if its screen picks us up."

The chief analyst took less than the estimated ten minutes for his nextset of figures. Commander O'Brine called personally while Rip was stillsearching for the right landing-boat ports. The voice horn bellowed, "Getit, Lieutenant Foster! The mass measurements are correct. This is yourasteroid. Estimated twelve minutes before we reach it. Your data will beready by the time you get back here. Show an exhaust!"

"We're ready, sir," Koa told him. "We can get out in three minutes. Itwill take us that long to get into space gear. Your stuff is laid out,sir."

"Get me the books and charts from the supplies," Rip directed. "HaveSantos take them to the chief analyst. I'm going back and figure ourcourse. No use doing it the hard way on the asteroid, when I can do it ina few minutes here with the ship's computer."

He turned and hurried back, hauling himself along by handholds. The shiphad stopped acceleration and was at no-weight again. As he neared theanalysis section, it went into deceleration, but the pressure was not toobad. He made his way against it easily.

The chief analyst was waiting for him. "We have everything you need,Lieutenant, except the orbital stuff. We'll do the best we can on thatand have an estimate in a few minutes. Meanwhile you can mark up yourfigures. Incidentally, what power are you going to use to move theasteroid?"

"Nuclear explosions," Rip said, and saw the chief's eyes pop. He added,"With conventional chemical fuel for corrections."

He felt rising excitement. The whole ship seemed to have come to life.There was excited tension in the computer room when he went in with thechief. Spacemen, all mathematicians, were waiting for him. As the chiefled him to a table, they gathered around him.

Rip took command. "Here's what we're after. I need to plot an orbit thatwill get us out of the asteroid belt without collisions, take us as closeto the sun as possible without having it capture us, and land us in spaceabout ten thousand miles from Earth. From then on I'll throw the asteroidinto a braking ellipse around the earth, and I'll be able to make anysmall corrections necessary."

He spread out a solar system chart and marked in the positions of theplanets as of that moment, using the daily almanac. Then he put down theposition of the asteroid, taking it from the paper the chief analysthanded him.

The chief shook his head. "Make them yourself, Lieutenant. We're at yourservice."

Rip felt a little ashamed of some of the unkind things he had said aboutspacemen. "Thank you." He pointed to a spaceman. "Will you calculate theinertia of the asteroid, please?" The spaceman hurried off. "First thingto do is plot the orbit as though there were no other bodies in thesystem," Rip said. "Where's Santos?"

Rip had plotted orbits before, but never one for actual use. His palmswere wet as he laid it out, using prepared tables. When he had finishedhe pointed to a spaceman. "That's it. Will you translate it into analoguefigures for the computer, please?" He assigned to others the task offiguring out the effect Mercury, the sun, and Earth would have on theorbit, using an assumed speed for the asteroid.

To the chief analyst he gave the job of putting all the data together inproper form for feeding to the electronic brain.

It would have taken all spacemen present about ten days to complete thejob by regular methods, but the electronic computer produced the answerin three minutes.

"Thanks a million, Chief," Rip said. "I'll be calling on you again beforethis is over." He tucked the sheets into his pocket.

"Anytime, Lieutenant. We'll keep rechecking the figures as we go along.If there are any corrections, we'll send them to you. That will giveyou a check on your own figures."

"Don't worry," Rip assured him, "we're going to have plenty ofcorrections before we're through."

Deceleration had been dropping steadily. It ceased altogether, leavingthem weightless. O'Brine's voice came over the speaker. "Get it! Valvecrews take stations at landing boats five and six. The Planeteers willdepart in five minutes. Lieutenant Foster will report to central controlif he cannot be ready in that time."

Rip's heart would have dropped into his shoes if there had been anygravity. Only a little excitement showed on his face, though. He wavedhis thanks at the analysts and grinned back at Santos.

CHAPTER SIX

Rip's Planet

Rip rechecked his space suit before putting on his helmet. The air sealwas intact, and his heating and ventilating units worked. He slapped hisknee pouches to make sure the space knife was handy to his left hand, thepistol to his right.

Koa was already fully dressed. He handed Rip the shoulder case thatcontained the plotting board. Santos had taken charge of Rip'sastrogation instruments.

A spaceman was waiting with Rip's bubble. At a nod, the spaceman slippedit on his head. Rip reached up and gave it a quarter turn. The lockingmechanism clamped into place. He turned his belt ventilator control onfull, and the space suit puffed out. When it was fully inflated, hewatched the pressure gauge. It was steady. No leaks in suit or helmet.He let the pressure go down to normal.

Rip adjusted the volume of his communicator and replied, "I hear you. AmI clear?"

Rip made a final check. He counted his men, then personally inspectedtheir suits. The boats were next. They were typical landing craft,shaped like rectangular boxes. There was no need for streamlining in thevacuum of space. They were not pressurized. Only men in space suits rodein the ungainly boxes.

He checked all blast tubes to make sure they were clear. There were smallsingle tubes on each side of the craft. A clogged one could explode andblow the boat up.

Koa, he knew, had checked everything, but the final responsibility washis. In space, no officer took anyone's word for anything that might meanlives. Each checked every detail personally.

Rip looked around and saw the Planeteers watching him. There was approvalon the faces behind the clear helmets, and he knew they were satisfiedwith his thoroughness.

At last, certain that everything was in good order, he said quietly,"Pilots, man your boats."

Dowst got into one and a spaceman into the other. Dowst's boat would staywith them on the asteroid. The spaceman would bring the other back to theship.

Commander O'Brine stepped through the valve into the boat lock. Aspaceman handed him a hand communicator. He spoke into it. Rip couldn'thave heard him through the helmet otherwise. "All set, Foster?"

"Good. The long-range screen picked up a blip a few minutes ago. It'sprobably that Connie cruiser."

"Our screens are a little better than theirs, so there's a slim chancethey haven't picked us up yet. We'll drop you and get out of here. Butdon't worry. We have your orbit fixed, and we'll find you when thescreens are clear."

"It's a chance," O'Brine admitted. "You'll have to take spaceman'sluck on that one. But we won't be far away. We'll duck behind Vesta,or another of the big asteroids, and hide so their screens won't pickup our motion. Every now and then we'll sneak out for a look, if thescreen seems clear. If those high-vack vermin do find you, get on thelanding-boat radio and yell for help. We'll come blasting."

He waved a hand, thumb and forefinger held together in the ancient symbolfor "everything right," then ordered, "Get flaming." He stepped throughthe valve.

He took a quick, final look around. The pilots were in the boats. HisPlaneteers were standing by, safety lines already attached to the boatsand their belts. He moved into position and snapped his own line to aring on Dowst's boat. The spacemen vanished through the valve, and themassive door slid closed. The overhead lights flicked out. Rip nowsnapped on his belt light, and the others followed suit.

In front of the boxlike landing boats a great door slid open, and airfrom the lock rushed out. Rip knew it was only imagination, but he feltas though all the heat from his suit was radiating into space, chillinghim to near absolute zero. Beyond the lights from their belts, he sawstars and recognized the constellation for which the space cruiser wasnamed. A superstitious spaceman would have taken that as a good sign.Rip admitted that it was nice to see.

The Planeteers gripped handholds at the entrance with one hand andlaunching rails on the boats with the other, then heaved. The boatsslid into space. As the safety lines tightened, the Planeteers werepulled after the boat.

Rip left his feet with a little spring and shot through the door.Directly below him, the asteroid gleamed darkly in the light of the tinysun. His first reaction was "Great Cosmos! What a little chunk of rock!"But that was because he was used to looking from the space platform atthe great curve of Terra or at the big ball of the moon. Actually theasteroid was fair-sized, when compared with most of its kind.

The Planeteers hauled themselves into the boats by their safety lines.Rip waited until all were in, then pulled himself along his own lineto the black square of the door. Koa was waiting to give him a hand intothe craft.

The Planeteers were standing, except for Dowst. Rip had never seen anold-type railroad, or he might have likened the landing boat to arailroad boxcar. It was about the same size and shape, but had huge"windows" on both sides and in front of the pilot—windows that werenot enclosed. The space-suited men needed no protection.

A pulse of fire spurted from the top of each boat, driving them bottomfirst toward the asteroid.

The asteroid loomed large as he looked through an opening. It was rocky,but there were plenty of smooth places.

Dowst picked one. He was an expert pilot, and Rip watched him withpleasure. The exhaust from the top lessened, and fire spurted soundlesslyfrom the bottom. Dowst balanced the opposite thrusts of the top andbottom blasts with the delicacy of a woman threading a needle. In a fewmoments the boat was hovering a foot above the asteroid. Dowst cut theexhausts, and Rip stepped out onto the tiny planet.

The Planeteers knew what to do. Corporal Pederson produced hardened steelspikes with ring tops. Private Trudeau had a sledge. Driving the firstspike would be the hardest, because the action of swinging the hammerwould propel the Planeteer like a rocket exhaust. In space, the law thatevery action has an equal and opposite reaction had to be rememberedevery moment.

Rip watched, interested in how his man would tackle the problem. Hedidn't know the answer himself, because he had never driven a spikeon an airless world with almost no gravity, and no one had ever mentionedit to him.

Pederson searched the gray metal with his torch and found a slender spurof thorium, perhaps two feet high, a short distance from the boat."Here's a hold," he said. "Come on, Frenchy. You too, Bradshaw."

Trudeau, carrying the sledge, walked up to the spur of rock and stoodwith his heels against it. Pederson sat down on the ground with his legson either side of the spur. He stretched, hooking his heels aroundTrudeau's ankles, anchoring him. With his gloves, he grabbed the seat ofthe Frenchman's space suit.

Bradshaw took a spike and held it against the gray metal ground. TheFrenchman swung, his hammer noiseless as it drove the tough spike. Afew inches into the metal was enough. Bradshaw took a wrench from hisbelt, put it on the head of the spike, and turned it. Below the surface,teeth on the spike bit into the metal. It would hold.

The rest was easy. The spike was used to anchor Trudeau while he droveanother, at his longest reach. Then the second spike became his anchor,and so on, until enough spikes had been set to lace the boat down againstany sudden shock.

The boat piloted by the spaceman was tied to the one that would remain,and the Planeteers floated its supplies through a window. It took only afew moments, with Planeteers forming a chain from inside the boat to aspot a little distance away. The crates weighed almost nothing, but stillretained their mass. Once their inertia was overcome, they moved from oneman to the next like ungainly balloons.

Rip stepped inside and made a quick inspection. The box was empty exceptfor the spaceman pilot. He put a hand on the pilot's shoulder. "On yourway, Rocky. Thanks."

Rip and Koa stepped out and walked a little distance away. Santos andPederson cast the landing boat adrift and shoved it away from theanchored boat. In a moment fire spurted from the bottom tube, spreadingover the dull metal and licking at the feet of the Planeteers.

Rip watched the boat rise upward to the great, sleek, dark bulk of theScorpius. The landing boat maneuvered into the air lock with briefflares from its exhausts. In a few moments the sparkling blast ofauxiliary rocket tubes moved the spaceship away. O'Brine was putting alittle distance between his ship and the asteroid before turning on thenuclear drive. The ship decreased in size until Rip saw it only as adark, oval silhouette against the Milky Way. Then the exhaust of thenuclear drive grew into a mighty column of glowing blue, and the shipflamed into space.

For a moment Rip had a wild impulse to yell for the ship to come back.He had been in vacuum before, but only as a cadet, with an officer incharge. Now, suddenly, he was the one responsible. The job was his. Hestiffened. Planeteer officers didn't worry about things like that.He forced his mind to the job at hand.

The next step was to establish a base. The base would have to be on thedark side of the asteroid, once it was in its new orbit. That meant atemporary base now and a better one later, when they had blasted thelittle planet into its new course. He estimated roughly the approximatepositions where he would place his charges, using the sun and the starCanopus as visual guides.

"This will do for a temporary base," he announced. "Rig the boatcompartment. While two of you are doing that, you others break out therocket launcher and rocket racks and assemble the cutting torch. Koa willmake assignments."

While the sergeant major translated Rip's general instructions intospecific orders for each man, the young lieutenant walked to the edgeof the sun belt. There was no atmosphere, so the edge was a sharp linebetween dark and light. There wasn't much light, either. They were toofar from the sun for that. But as they neared the sun, the darkness wouldbe their protection. They would get so close to Sol that the metal on thesun side would get soft as butter.

He bent close to the uneven surface. It was clean metal, not oxidizedat all. The thorium had never been exposed to oxygen. Here and there,pyramids of metal thrust up from the asteroid, sometimes singly,sometimes in clusters. They were metal crystal formations. He guessedthat once, long ages ago, the asteroid had been a part of something muchbigger, perhaps a planet. One theory said the asteroids were formed whena planet exploded. This asteroid might have been a pocket of pure thoriumin the planet.

There would be plenty to do in a short while, but meanwhile he enjoyedthe sensation of being on a tiny world in space with only a handful ofPlaneteers for company. He smiled. "King Foster," he said to himself."Monarch of a thorium space speck." It was a rather nice feeling, eventhough he laughed at himself for thinking it. Since he was in command ofthe detachment, he could in all truth say that this was his own personalplanet. It would be a good bit of space humor to spring on the folks backon Terra.

"Yep, once I was boss of a whole world. Made myself king. Emperor of allthe metal molecules and king of the thorium spurs. And my subjects obeyedmy every command." He added, "Thanks to Planeteer discipline. Thedetachment commander is boss."

He reminded himself that he had better stop gathering space dust andstart acting like a detachment commander. He walked back to the landingboat, stepping with care. With such low gravity, a false step could sendhim high above the asteroid. Of course, that would not be dangerous,since space suits were equipped with six small compressed-air bottles foremergency propulsion. But it would be embarrassing.

Inside the boat, Dowst and Nunez were setting up the compartment.Sections of the rear wall swung out and locked into place againstairtight seals, forming a box at the rear end of the boat. Equipmentsealed in the stern, next to the rocket tube, supplied light, heat, andair. It was a simple but necessary arrangement. Without it, thePlaneteers could not have eaten.

There was no air lock for the compartment. The half of the detachment noton duty would walk in, seal it up, turn on the equipment, wait until thegauges registered sufficient air and heat, and then remove their spacesuits. When it was time to leave, they would don suits, open the door,and walk out, and the next shift would enter and repeat the process.Earlier models had permanent compartments, but they took up too much roomin craft designed for carrying as many men and as much equipment aspossible. They were strictly work boats, and hard experience had dictatedthe best design.

The rocket launcher was already set up near the boat. It was a simpleaffair, with three adjustable legs bolted to ground spikes. The legsheld a movable cradle in which the rocket racks were placed. High-gearedhand controls enabled the gunner to swing the cradle at high speed inany direction except straight down. A simple, illuminated optical sightwas all the gunner needed. Since there were neither gravity noratmosphere in space, the missiles flashed out in a straight line,continuing on into infinity if they missed their targets. Proximity fusesmade this a remote possibility. If the rocket got anywhere near thetarget, the shell would explode.

Rip found his astrogation instruments set carefully to one side. Heremoved the data sheets from his case and examined them. Now came thework of finding the spots in which to place his atomic charges. Since thecomputer aboard ship had done all the mathematics necessary, he neededonly to take sights to determine the precise positions.

He took a transit-like instrument from the case, pulled out the legs ofits self-contained tripod, then carried it to a spot near where he hadestimated the first charge would be placed. The instrument was equippedwith three movable rings to be set for the celestial equator, for thezero meridian, and for the right ascension of any convenient star. Usinga regular level would have been much simpler. The instrument had one, butwith so little gravity to activate it, the thing was useless.

The sights were specially designed for use in space, and his bubble wasno obstacle in taking observations. He merely put the clear plasticagainst the curved sight and looked into it much as he would have lookedthrough a telescope on Earth.

As he did so, a hint of pale pink light caught the corner of his eye. Hebacked away from the instrument and turned his head quickly, looking atthe colorimeter-type radiation detector at the side of his helmet. It wasglowing.

An icy chill sent a shiver through him. Great, gorgeous galaxies! He hadforgotten ... had Koa and the others? He turned so fast that he lost hisbalance and floated above the surface like a captive balloon. Santos, whohad been standing nearby to help if requested, hooked a toe on the groundspike, caught him, and set him upright on the ground again.

Koa sensed the urgency in his voice and got the instruments himself. Ripswitched them on and read the illuminated dial on the alpha counter.Plenty high, as was natural. But no danger there—alpha particlescouldn't penetrate the space suits. Then, his hand clammy inside thespace glove, he switched on the other meter. The gamma count was farbelow the alpha, but there were too many of the rays around for comfort.Inside the helmet his face turned pale.

There was no immediate danger. It would take many days to build up a doseof gamma that could hurt them. But gamma was not the only radiation. Theywere in space, fully exposed to equally dangerous cosmic radiation.

The Planeteers had gathered while he read the instruments. Now they stoodwatching him.

"I ought to be busted to recruit," he told them. "I knew this asteroidwas thorium and that thorium is radioactive. If I had used my head, Iwould have added nuclite shielding to the list of supplies theScorpiusprovided. We could have had enough of it to protect us while around ourbase, even if we couldn't be protected while working on the charges. Thatwould at least have kept our dosage down enough for safety."

"It was my job to think of it, and I didn't. So I've put us in a timesqueeze. If theScorpius gets back soon, we can get the shieldingbefore our radiation dosage has built up very high. If the ship doesn'tcome back, the dosage will mount."

He looked at them grimly. "It won't kill us, and it won't even make usvery sick. I'll have the ship take us off before we build up that muchdosage."

"I know what it means," Rip stated bitterly. "It means the ship has gotto return in time to give us some nuclite shielding, or we'll be thelaughingstock of the Special Order Squadrons—the detachment that starteda job the spacemen had to finish!"

CHAPTER SEVEN

Earthbound!

There was something else that Rip didn't add, although he knew thePlaneteers would realize it in a few minutes. Probably some of themalready had thought of it.

To move the asteroid into a new orbit, they were going to fire nuclearbombs. Most of the highly radioactive fission products would be blowninto space, but some would be drawn back by the asteroid's slightgravity. The craters would be highly radioactive, and some radioactivedebris was certain to be scattered around, too. Every particle would addto the problem.

Rip shook his head inside the transparent bubble. "If you have a goodluck charm in your pocket, you might talk to it. That's about all."

Nuclear physics had been part of his training. He read the gamma meteragain and did some quick calculations. They would be exposed for theentire trip, at a daily dosage of—

Koa interrupted his train of thought. Evidently the sergeant major hadbeen doing some calculations of his own. "How long will we be on thisrock, sir? You've never told us just how long the trip will take."

He could see their faces faintly in the dim sunlight. They were shocked.Spaceships blasted through space between the inner planets in a matterof hours. The nuclear drive cruisers, which could approach almost halfthe speed of light, had brought even distant Pluto within easy reach.The inner planets could be covered in a matter of minutes on a straightspeed run, although to take off from one and land on the other meantconsiderable time used in acceleration and deceleration.

The Planeteers were used to such speed. Hearing that it would take overthree weeks to reach Earth had jarred them.

"This piece of metal isn't a spaceship," Rip reminded them. "At themoment, our speed around the sun is just slightly more than ten miles asecond. If we just shifted orbits and kept the same speed, it would takeus months to reach Terra. But we'll use one bomb for retrothrust, thenfire two to increase speed. The estimate is that we'll push up to aboutforty miles a second."

Koa spoke up. "That's not bad when you think that Mercury is the fastestplanet, and it only makes about thirty miles a second."

"Right," Rip agreed. "After the asteroid is kicked out of orbit, it willfall toward the sun. At our closest approach to the sun, we'll haveenough velocity to carry us past safely. Then we'll lose speed constantlyuntil we come into Earth's gravitational field and have to brake."

It was just space luck that Terra was on the other side of the sun fromthe asteroid's present position. By the time they approached, it wouldbe in a good place, just far enough from the line to the sun to avoidchanging course. Of course, Rip's planned orbit was not aiming theasteroid at Earth, but at where Earth would be at the end of the trip.

"That means more than three weeks of radiation, then," Corporal Santosobserved. "Can we take it, sir?"

Rip shrugged, but the gesture couldn't be seen inside his space suit. "Atthe rate we're getting radiation now, plus what I estimate we'll get fromthe nuclear explosions, we'll get the maximum safety limit in just threeweeks. That leaves us no margin, even if we risk getting radiationsickness. So we have to get shielding pretty soon. If we do, we can lastthe trip."

Rip turned to face the Planeteer, still worrying over the problem. Henodded and said, "What is it, Dominico?"

"Sir, I think we can't worry too much about this radiation, eh? You willthink of some way to take care of it. What I want to ask, sir, is when dowe let go the bombs? I do not know much about radiation, but I can setthose bombs like you want them."

Rip was touched by the Planeteer's faith in his ability to solve theradiation problem. That was why being an officer in the Special OrderSquadrons was so challenging. The men knew the kind of training theirofficers had, and they expected them to come up with technical solutionsas the situation required.

"You'll have a chance to set the bombs in just a short while," he saidcrisply. "Let's get busy. Koa, load all bombs but one ten KT on thelanding boat. Stake the rest of the equipment down. While you're doingthat, I'll find the spots where we plant the charges. I'll need two mennow and more later."

He went back to his instrument, putting the radiation problem out of hismind—a rather hard thing to do with the colorimeter glowing pink next tohis shoulder. Koa detailed men to load the nuclear bombs into the landingcraft, left Pederson to supervise, and then brought Santos with him tohelp Rip.

"Fine. There isn't too much chance of the blasts setting them off, butwe'll take no chances at all. Koa, I'm going to shoot a line straight outtoward Alpha Centauri. You walk that way and turn on your belt light.I'll tell you which way to move."

He adjusted his sighting rings while the sergeant major glided away.Moving around on a no-weight world was more like skating than walking. Aregular walk would have lifted Koa into space with every step. Of course,the asteroid had some gravity, but so little that it hardly mattered.

Rip centered the top of the instrument's vertical hairline on AlphaCentauri, then waited until Koa was almost out of sight over theasteroid's horizon, which was only a few hundred yards away.

He turned up the volume on his helmet communicator. "Koa, move about tenfeet to your left."

Koa did so. Rip sighted past the vertical hairline at the belt light."That's a little too far. Take a small step to the right. That'sgood ... just a few inches more ... hold it. You're right in position.Stand where you are."

Rip turned to Santos. "Stand here, Corporal. Take a sight at Koa to getyour bearings, then hold position."

Santos did so. Now the two lights gave Rip one of the lines he needed. Hecalled for two more men, and Trudeau and Nunez joined him. "Follow me,"he directed.

Rip picked up the instrument and carried it to a point ninety degreesfrom the line represented by Koa and Santos. He put the instrument downand zeroed it on Messier 44, the Beehive star cluster in theconstellation Cancer. For the second sighting star he chose Beta Pyxisas being closest to the line he wanted, made the slight adjustmentsnecessary to set the line of sight, since Pyxis wasn't exactly on it,then directed Trudeau into position as he had Koa. Nunez took positionbehind the instrument, and Rip had his cross fix.

He called for Dowst, then carried the instrument to the center of thecross formed by the four men. Using the instrument, he rechecked thelines from the center out. They were within a hair or two of beingexactly on, and a slight error wouldn't hurt, anyway. He knew he wouldhave to correct with rocket blasts once the asteroid was in the neworbit.

"X marks the spot," he told Dowst. He put his toe on the place where thecrosslines met.

"All set," Rip announced. "You four men can move now. Let's have thecutting equipment over here, Koa."

The Planeteers were all waiting for instructions now. In a few momentsthe equipment was ready, fuel and oxygen bottles attached.

Kemp, one of the two American privates, took the torch and waited fororders. "We need a hole six feet across and twenty feet deep," Rip toldhim. "Go to it."

"Straight down. We'll take a bearing on an overhead star when you're in afew feet."

Dowst inscribed a circle around the X he had made and stood back. Kemppushed the striker button and the torch flared. "Watch your eyes," hewarned. The Planeteers reached for belt controls and turned the rheostatsthat darkened the clear bubbles electronically. Kemp adjusted his flameuntil it was blue-white, a knife of fire brighter by far than the lightof the sun at this distance.

Koa stepped behind Kemp and leaned against his back, because the flame ofthe torch was like an exhaust, driving Kemp backward. Kemp bent down, andthe torch sliced into the metal of the asteroid like a hot knife intoice. The metal splintered a little as the heat raised it instantly fromalmost absolute zero to many thousands of degrees.

When the circle was completed, Kemp adjusted his torch again, and theflame lengthened. He moved inside the circle and cut at an angle towardthe perimeter. His control was quick and certain. In a moment he stoodaside, and Koa lifted out a perfect ring of thorium. It varied from aknife edge on the inner side to eighteen inches on the outer side.

In the middle of the circle there was now a cone of metal. Kemp cutaround it, the torch angling toward the center. A piece shaped liketwo cones set base to base came free. Since the metal cooled in thebitter chill of space almost as fast as Kemp could cut it, there was noheat to worry about.

Alternately cutting from the outside and the center of the hole, Kempworked his way downward until his head was below ground level. Ripcalled a halt. Kemp gave a little jump and floated straight upward. Koacaught him and swung him to one side. Rip stepped into the hole, andSantos gave him a slight push to send him to the bottom. Rip knelt andsighted upward. Kemp had done a good job. The star Rip had chosen as aguide was straight overhead.

He bounced out of the hole, and, as Koa caught him, he told Kemp to goahead. "Dominico, here's your chance. Get tools and wire. Find a timerand connect up the ten-kiloton bomb. Nunez, bring it here while Dominicogets what he needs."

Kemp was burning his way into the asteroid at a good rate. Every fewmoments he pushed another circle or spindle of thorium out of the hole.Rip directed some of the men to carry them away, to the other side of theasteroid. He didn't want chunks of thorium flying around from the blast.

The sergeant major had a sudden thought. He cut off his communicator,motioned to Rip to do the same, then put his helmet against Rip's fordirect communication. He didn't want the others to hear what he had tosay. His voice came like a roar from the bottom of a well. "Lieutenant,do you suppose there's any chance the blast might break up the asteroid?Maybe split it in two?"

The same thought had occurred to Rip on theScorpius. His calculationshad showed that the metal would do little more than compress, exceptwhere it melted from the terrific heat of the bomb. That would be onlyin and around the shaft. He was sure the men at Terra base had figuredit out before they decided that A-bombs would be necessary to throw theasteroid into a new orbit. He wasn't worried. Cracks in the asteroidwould be dangerous, but he hadn't seen any.

"This rock will take more nuclear blasts than we have," he assured Koa.He turned his communicator back on and went to the edge of the hole fora look at Kemp's progress. He was far down now. Pederson was holding oneend of a measuring tape. The other end was fastened to Kemp's shoulderstrap.

The Swedish corporal showed Rip that he had only about eight feet of tapeleft. Kemp was almost down. Rip called, "Kemp, when you reach bottom, cuttoward the center. Leave an inverted cone."

Dominico had connected cable to the bomb terminals and was attaching atimer to the other end. Without the wooden case, the bomb was like a fat,oversized can. It had been shipped without a combat casing.

"Koa, make a final check. You can untie the landing boat, except for oneline. We'll be taking off in a few minutes."

"Right, sir." Koa glided toward the landing boat, which was moored out ofsight beyond the horizon.

It was nearly time. Rip had a moment's misgiving. Had his figures or hissightings been off? His scalp prickled at the thought. But the ship'scomputer had done the work, and it was not capable of making a mistake.

Kemp tossed up the last section of thorium and then came out of the holehimself, carrying his torch.

Rip inspected the hole, saw with satisfaction that it was in almostperfect alignment, and ordered the bomb placed. He bent over the edgeof the hole and watched Trudeau pay out wire while Dominico pushed thebomb to the bottom. The Italian made a last-minute check, then calledto Rip. "Ready, sir."

Rip dropped into the hole and inspected the connections himself, thenpersonally pulled the safety lever. The bomb was armed. When the timeracted, it would go off.

Back at ground level, he turned up his communicator. "Koa, is everythingready at the boat?"

The Planeteers had already carried away the torch and its fuel and oxygensupplies. The area was clear of pieces of thorium.

Rip announced, "We're setting the explosion for ten minutes." He leanedover the timer, which rested near the lip of the hole, took the dialcontrol in his glove, and turned it to position ten. He held it longenough to glance at his chronometer and say, "Starting now!" Then helet it go.

Wasting no time, but not hurrying, he and Dominico returned to thelanding boat. The Planeteers were already aboard, except for Koa, whostood by to cast off the remaining tie line. Rip stepped inside andcounted the men. All present. He ordered, "Cast off." As Koa did soand stepped aboard, Rip added, "Pilot, take off. Straight up."

The landing boat rose from the asteroid. Rip counted the men again, justto be sure. The boat seemed a little crowded, but that was because therear compartment took up quite a bit of room.

Rip watched his chronometer. They had plenty of time. When the boatreached a point about ten miles above the asteroid, he ordered, "Sterntube." The boat moved at an angle. He let it go until a sight at thestars showed they were in about the right position, ninety degrees fromthe line of blast and where they would be behind the asteroid as it movedtoward the new course.

He looked at his chronometer again. "Two minutes. Line up at the side ifyou want to watch, but darken your helmets to full protection. This thingwill light up like nothing you've ever seen before."

It was a good thing space cruisers depended on their radar and not onsight, he thought. Usually spacemen opened up visual ports only whenlanding or taking a star sight for an astroplot. The clear plastic of thedomes had to be shielded from chance meteors. Besides, radar screens weremore dependable than eyes, even though they could pick up only solidobjects. If the Consops cruiser happened to be searching visually, itwould see this blast. But the chance had to be taken. It wasn't reallymuch of a chance.

"One minute," he said. He faced the asteroid, then darkened his helmet,counting to himself.

The minute ticked off rapidly, though his count was a little slow. Whenhe reached five, brilliant, incandescent light lit up the interior of theboat. Rip saw it even though his helmet was dark. The light faded slowly,and as it did, he gradually put his helmet back on full transparent.

A mighty column of fire now reached out from the asteroid into space. Ripheld his breath until he saw that the little planet was sheering off itscourse under the great blast. Then he sighed with relief. All was well sofar.

The column of fire lengthened, thinned out, grew fainter, until there wasonly a glow behind the asteroid. Rip took his astrogation instruments andmade a number of sights. They looked good. The first blast had workedabout as predicted, although he wouldn't be able to tell how muchcorrection was needed until he had taken star sights over a period offive or six days.

Back on the asteroid, a pit that glowed with radioactivity marked thesite of the first blast. Rip ordered the men to stay as far from it aspossible, to avoid increasing their radiation doses. He plotted the linesfor the second blast, found the spot, and put Kemp back to work on a newhole.

Two hours later the second blast threw fire into space. In another threehours, with the asteroid now speeding on its new course, Rip set off theexplosion that blasted straight back and gave extra speed.

Three radioactive craters marked the asteroid. Rip checked the radiationlevel and didn't like it a bit. He decided to set up the landing boat andtheir supplies as far away from the craters as possible, which was on thesun side. They could move to the dark side as they approached the orbitof Earth. By then the radioactivity from the blasts would have died downconsiderably.

He was selecting the location for a base when Dowst suddenly called,"Lieutenant Foster!"

Rip found the constellation Orion and looked at bright Rigel. For amoment he saw nothing; then, south of the star, he saw a thin, orangeline.

Nuclear drive cruisers didn't have exhausts of that color, and there wasonly one rocket-drive ship around, so far as they knew.

Rip said softly, "Let's get our house in order, gang. Looks as if we'regoing to get a visit from the Connies!"

CHAPTER EIGHT

Duck—or Die!

Sergeant Major Koa's great frame loomed in front of Rip. "Think they'vespotted us, sir?"

Rip hated to say it. "Probably. Koa, can you estimate from the exhausthow far away they are?"

"Not very well, Lieutenant. From the position of the streak, I'd saythey're decelerating."

The Planeteers looked at Rip. He was in command, and they expected him todo something about the situation. Rip didn't know what to do. The rocketlauncher, their only weapon, wasn't designed for fighting spaceships. Itwas useful against snapper-boats and people, but firing at a cruiserwould be like sending mosquitoes to fight elephants.

He sized up their position. For one thing, they were right out in theopen, exposed to anything the Connie cruiser might throw at them. If theycould get under cover, there might be a chance. At least it would takethe Connies a while to find them.

For a moment he thought of hurrying into the landing boat and sending outa call for help to theScorpius, but he thought better of it. Theyweren't certain that Connie had spotted them. He would wait until therewas no doubt. Meanwhile, they had to find cover.

His searching eyes fell on the cutting torch. If they could use that tocut themselves right into the asteroid.... Suddenly he knew how it couldbe done. On the sun side he remembered a series of high-piled, giantcrystals of thorium. They could cut into the side of one of those. Andwith Kemp's skill, they might be able to do it in time.

In his haste he took a misstep and flew headlong a few feet above themetal surface. Koa, gliding along behind him, turned him upright again.He saw that the sergeant major was grinning. Rip grinned back. It was thesecond time he had lost his footing.

They reached the peaks of thorium, and Rip looked them over. The tallestwas perhaps forty feet high. It was roughly pyramidal, with a base aboutsixty feet thick. It would do.

"Kemp." The private hurried to his side. "Take the torch and make us acave. Make it big enough for the entire crew and the equipment."

Kemp was a good Planeteer. He didn't stop to ask questions. He said,"I'll make a small entrance and open the cave out inside." He picked upthe torch and got busy.

Rip smiled. The Planeteer was right. He should have thought of ithimself, but it was good to see increasing proof that his men were smartas well as tough and disciplined.

"Bring up all supplies," he told Koa. "Move the boat over here, too. Wewon't be able to bury that, but we want it close by." He had an idea fortheir boat. It was able to maneuver infinitely faster than the bigcruiser. They could put the supplies in the cave, then take to the boat,depending on its ability to turn quickly and on Dowst's skill at pilotingto play hide and seek. Dowst certainly could keep the asteroid betweenthem and the cruiser.

The plan would fail when the cruiser sent a landing party. They wouldcertainly come in snapper-boats, and those deadly little fighting craftcould blast rings around the landing boat. The snapper-boats had gottentheir name because fast acceleration and quick changes of position couldsnap a man right out of his seat if he forgot to buckle his harnesstightly.

The solution would be to keep the landing boat close to the asteroid. Atthe first sign of a landing party, they would take to the cave, using therocket launcher as a defense.

The supplies began to arrive. The Planeteers towed them two crates at atime in a steady line of hurrying men.

Kemp's torch sent an incandescent knife three feet into the metal at eachcut. He was rapidly slicing out a cave. He cut the metal out in greattriangular bars, angling the torch from first one side, then the other.

Koa came and stood beside Rip. "I haven't seen the Connie's exhaust for awhile, sir. They've probably stopped decelerating. We can't see them atall."

"They're in free fall now, sir. That could mean they're just hunting inthe area. Or it could mean that they've stopped somewhere close by. Theycould be looking us over right now, for all we know."

Rip surveyed the stars. "If that's so, they're not too close, Koa.Otherwise they'd block out a patch of stars."

"Well, sir—" Koa hesitated. "I mean, if you were looking over thisasteroid, and you weren't sure whether the enemy had it or not, how closewould you get?"

"Probably about one AU," Rip said jokingly. That was one astronomicalunit, equal to about ninety-three million miles, the distance from Earthto the sun.

"But let's suppose the Connie isn't as timid as I am," Rip went on. "Hemight be only a few miles out. The question is, would he wait to getcloser before launching his snapper-boats?"

The tall officer answered frankly, "I've never been in a space grab likethis. I don't know the answer."

"We'll soon know," Rip replied grimly. A thought had just struck him. TheScorpius had trouble finding the asteroid because it was just one ofmany sailing along through the belt. But now the asteroid was the onlyone travelingacross the belt. It would make an outstanding blip on anyradarscope. It wasn't possible that the Connie cruiser had missed theblip and its significance.

"The Connie may be looking us over," Rip added, "but I'll tell you onething. He knows we've taken the asteroid."

Koa looked wistfully at the atomic bomb which remained. "If we had a wayto throw that thing at them...."

"But we haven't. And the thing wouldn't explode, anyway. We don't havethe outside casing with an exploder mechanism, so it has to be turned onelectrically." Rip could see no way to use the atomic bomb against theConnies. It was too big for use against a landing party. Besides, itwould put the Planeteers themselves in danger.

"More'n once, sir. Sometimes it seems like I'll never get a job whereI don't have to fight Connies."

Rip was trained in science and Planeteer techniques, and he didn'tpretend to know the ins and outs of interplanetary politics. Just thesame, he couldn't help wondering about the strange relationship betweenthe Consolidation of People's Governments and the Federation of FreeNations.

Connies and Feds, mostly Planeteers but sometimes spacemen, wereconstantly skirmishing. They fought over property, over control ofports on distant planets and moons, and over space salvage. Often therewas bloodshed. Sometimes there were pitched battles between groups ofplatoon size.

But at that point the struggle ended. The law of the Federation said thatno spaceship could fire on a Connie spaceship or on Connie land bases,except with special permission of the Space Council. The theory was thatbrief struggles between men, or even between small fighting craft likethe snapper-boats, was not war. But firing on a spaceship was consideredan act of war, and the first such act could mean the beginning of a warthroughout the entire solar system.

It made a sort of sense to Rip when he thought about it. Little fightshere and there were better than a full war among the planets.

The short hairs on the back of Rip's neck prickled. Far above, blacknessin the shape of a spaceship blotted out stars. The Connie had arrived!

Rip ordered urgently, "Kemp! Stop cutting! The rest of you get the stuffunder cover. Ram it!" He hurried to lend a hand himself, hustling cratesinto the cave.

Kemp had made astonishing progress. There was room for the crates, ifstacked properly, and for the men, besides. Rip supervised the stackingand then the placement of the rocket launcher at the entrance.

"All hands inside the boat," he ordered. "Dowst, be ready to take off ata moment's notice. You'll have to buck this box around as never before."He explained to the pilot his plan to dodge, keeping the asteroid betweenthe boat and the cruiser.

"I'm not worried," Rip replied—and wished it were true. He looked up atthe Connie again. It was getting larger. The cruiser was within a fewmiles of the asteroid.

As Rip watched, fire spurted from the cruiser, and it moved withgathering speed toward the asteroid's horizon. He watched the exhausttrail, wondering why the Connie had blasted off.

The men were already in the boat. He and Koa joined them. They stood at awindow, watching the Connie's trail.

The trail dwindled. Koa said, "Something's up!" Suddenly new fire shotfrom one side of the cruiser, and it spun. Balancing fire came from theother side, and for an instant the three exhausts formed a cross, withthe darkness of the Connie's hull in the center. Then they could see onlythe exhausts from the sides. The stern flame was out of sight. "He's madea full turn to come back this way," Rip stated tensely. "Dowst, getready."

The Connie was perhaps twenty miles away. It grew larger, and the sidejets winked out. A few seconds later, fire spurted from the nose.

Rip figured rapidly. The cruiser had gone far enough away to make a turn.It had straightened out, heading right for them. Now the nose tube wasblasting, slowing the cruiser down.

He sighted, holding out one glove, and gauging the Connie's distanceabove the horizon, and his heart speeded. The Connie was right on thehorizon!

Acceleration jammed him back against his men as Dowst blasted. No soonerhad he recovered than acceleration in a different direction shoved him upto the ceiling so hard that his bubble rang. He clawed his way to thewindow as the Connie cruiser flashed by, bathing the asteroid in glowingflame.

There was a chorus of gasps from the men as they saw the thing Rip hadrealized a moment before. The Consops cruiser was playing it safe, usingits rocket exhaust as a great blowtorch to burn the surface of theasteroid clean of any possible life!

The sheer inhumanity of the thing made Rip's stomach tighten into a knot.No asking for surrender, no taking of prisoners, not even a clean fight.The Connie was doing its arguing with fire, knowing that the exhaustwould char every man on the asteroid's surface.

The Planeteers watched as the Connie sped away, blasted with side jets,and turned to come back. Dowst tensed over the controls, trying toanticipate the next move. He delicately touched the firing levers,letting out just enough flame to maneuver. He slid the craft across theasteroid's surface to the side away from the Connie, going slowly enoughthat they could watch the enemy's every move.

"Here he comes," Rip snapped, and braced for acceleration. The landingcraft shot to safety as the cruiser's nose jet flamed. Dowst was just intime. Tiny sparks from the edge of the fiery column brushed past theboat.

Rip realized that the Connie couldn't know the Federation men were in aboat, dodging. The cruiser would make about two more runs, just enough toallow for hitting every bit of the asteroid. Then it would assume thatanything on it was finished and send a landing party.

"He'll be back," he stated. "About twice more. Three at most." Hesuddenly remembered the landing boat's radio. "Dowst, where is the radioconnection?"

The pilot handed him a wire with a jack plug on the end of it. Ripplugged it into his belt. Now his voice would be heard on theScorpius.

"CallingScorpius! CallingScorpius! Foster reporting. We are underattack. Repeat, we are under attack. Over to you."

The answer rang in his helmet. "Scorpius to Foster. Hold 'em,Planeteers. We're on our way!"

Rip braced. The landing boat shot forward, then piled the Planeteers in aheap on the bottom as Dowst accelerated upward.

There was a sudden wrenching crash that sent the Planeteers in a jumbledmass into the front of the boat. It whirled crazily, then stopped.

Rip was not hurt. He shoved at someone whose bubble was in his stomachand cleared the way. "Turn on belt lights," he called. "Quick!"

Lights flared on. He searched quickly, swinging his light. The Planeteerswere getting to their feet. His light focused on Private Bradshaw, and hegasped.

Bradshaw's face was scarlet, and his skin was flecked with drops ofblood. His eyes were closed and bulging horribly.

Rip jumped forward, but Koa was even faster. The Hawaiian jerked a repairstrip from a belt pouch and slapped it on the crack in Bradshaw's bubble.Rip wasted no time, either. By the time Koa had the strip in place he hadpulled the connection from his belt light. He ran the tips of the wiresover the edges of the strip. The current sealed the patch in placeinstantly.

Koa grabbed the atmosphere control on Bradshaw's belt and turned it. Thesuit puffed up. Rip watched the repair anxiously in the light from Koa'sbelt. It held.

Rip reconnected his light as he asked swiftly, "Anyone else hurt? Answerby name."

"Run for the cave," Rip commanded. "Follow Koa. Santos and Pederson, dragBradshaw."

Koa was already out of the craft and leading the way. Rip went outthrough a window and saw the cause of the trouble. Dowst had been ahair too close to the asteroid. A particularly high crystal of thoriumhad snagged the landing craft.

Rip looked for the Connie and saw it make another turn. They had only amoment or two before the next run. "Show an exhaust!" he called. TheConnie must have blasted the opposite side of the asteroid while theywere hung up.

The cave was a quarter of the asteroid away. Rip stayed in the rear,watching for stragglers, but even Bradshaw was moving rapidly. Koareached the cave well ahead of the rest, reached for a rack of rockets,and slapped it into the launcher.

They catapulted to safety as the cruiser flamed past, the exhaustsplashing over the metal and sending sparks into the cave.

Rip looked out. That, if he had guessed right, was the last run. Hewatched the Connie's stern jet cut off, saw the nose exhaust as thecruiser decelerated to a fast stop.

He pulled his pistol from his knee pocket and checked it carefully. Therewas a clip in the magazine. Other clips were in his pocket. The clipswere loaded with high velocity shells that exploded on contact. One slugcould stop a Venusiankrel, a mammoth beast that had been described asa cross between a sea lion and a cactus plant.

The Connie cruiser decelerated, went into reverse, and came to a fullstop about a mile from the asteroid. The Planeteers saw fire in twoplaces along the hull, marking the exhausts of two small craft.

"Snapper-boats," Koa said tonelessly. "Five men in each, if those are theregular Connie kind."

Rip made a quick decision. With only one launcher they couldn't guard thewhole asteroid. "We'll stay under cover, except for Santos and Pederson.You two sneak out. Take advantage of every bit of cover you can find. Idon't want you spotted. When a boat lands, report its position. TheConnies operate on different communicator frequencies, so they won'toverhear. We'll let them think they've burned the asteroid clean."

He paused. "They'll search for a while. Then, when they're pretty wellsatisfied that all is quiet, we'll show up." Rip grinned at hisPlaneteers. "We can have a real, old-fashioned surprise party."

CHAPTER NINE

Repel Invaders!

The snapper-boats came out of the darkness of space, leaving a glowingtrail of fire. They were not graceful. Rip could see no beauty in theirlines, but to his professional eye there was plenty of deadly efficiency.

The Connie fighting craft looked like three globes strung evenly ona steel tube. The middle globe was larger than the end ones, and itwas transparent. From it projected the barrels of two kinds ofweapons—explosive and ultrasonic. Five men usually rode in the middleball. One piloted. The other four were gunners.

The end globes were pierced by five large holes. They were blast tubesfor the rocket exhaust. Unlike the landing boats, each tube did not haveits own fuel supply. One fuel tank served each globe. The pilot coulddirect the exhaust through any tube or combination of tubes he wished, byoperating valves that either sealed or opened the vents. The system gavehigh maneuverability to the boats. By playing on the controls with theskill of an organist, the pilot could shift direction with dazzlingspeed.

Snapper-boats used by the Federation operated on the same principle, butthey were of American design, and they showed the Americans' love ofclean lines. Federation fighter craft were slim and streamlined, eventhough the streamlining was of no use whatever in space. With blast holesat each end, they looked like double-ended needles. The pilot's canopy inthe center controlled guns that fired through the front only. Rear gunswere handled by a gunner, who sat with back to the pilot.

Where Connie snapper-boats carried five men, the Federation boats carriedtwo. The Connies could fire in any direction. The Federation pilots aimedby pointing the snapper-boat itself, as fighter pilots of conventionalaircraft had once aimed their guns.

Rip watched the boats approach. He was ready to duck inside if theydecided to look the asteroid over before landing. He hoped they wouldn'tcatch sight of his two scouts. He also hoped his nervousness would vanishwhen the fight started. He knew what to do, at least in theory. He hadgone through combat problems on the moon during training. But this wasdifferent. This was real. The lives of his men depended on his beingright, and he was afraid of making a wrong decision.

Sergeant Major Koa, an experienced Planeteer with true understanding,came and stood beside him. He said, "Guess I'll never get over beingjittery while waiting for the fight to start. I'm sweating so hard mydehumidifier is humming like a Callistan honey lizard. But it doesn'tlast long once the shooting begins. I get so busy I forget to bejittery."

Before Rip could reply, the snapper-boats flashed over the cave, circledthe asteroid once, and landed on the dark side, close to the bombcraters.

The first scout reported. "Santos, sir. I'm fifty yards beyond the stakeswhere we had the first base. The snapper-boats landed between the firsttwo craters. Men coming out of one boat. I count six. Now they're comingout of the other boat, but I can't see very well."

The other scout picked up the report, his voice thick with excitement. "Ican see them, sir! By Cosmos! There are seven in this boat on my side. Iam behind a rock forty yards to sunward of the second crater."

Rip turned up the volume of his communicator. "How are they armed?Santos, report."

Koa looked at Rip. "They must think the asteroid is clean. Otherwisethey'd have more than a chatter gun in sight. You can bet they haveknives and pistols, too."

Rip had been playing with an idea. He tried it on his men. "These Connieswould be useful to us alive, if we could capture them."

"That's it. If we could capture them, the Connie cruiser would behelpless. We could use the snapper-boat radios to warn the ship that anyfalse move would mean harm to their men."

Koa shook his head doubtfully. "I'm not sure the Connies worry abouttheir men, but it's worth the try. We can capture some of them if theysplit up to search the asteroid. But we won't be able to sneak up on themall."

"We have an advantage," Rip reminded them. "We've been on the asteroidlonger. We know our way around, and we're used to space walking. They'vejust come out of deceleration, and they won't have their space legs yet."

Santos reported. "They're breaking up into groups of two. Three areguarding the snapper-boats. One is the man with the chatter gun."

"Then keep out of the beams. Don't let them walk into you. Keep low, andkeep moving. Stay on the dark side."

"We'd better get to the dark side ourselves," Koa warned. He was right,Rip knew. The Connies didn't have far to search before reaching the sunside. "Koa, you take Trudeau and Kemp. I'll take Dowst and Dominico.Nunez and Bradshaw stay here to guard the cave. If they arrive in twos,let them get into the cave before you jump them. Bradshaw, how do youfeel?"

Rip admired the Planeteer's nerve. He knew Bradshaw was in pain,because bleeding into high vacuum was always painful. The crack inthe Englishman's helmet had let most of the air out, and his own bloodpressure had done the rest. He would carry the marks for days. A few moremoments, and all air and all heat would have been gone, with fatalresults. Fortunately, bubbles didn't shatter easily when cracked. Todestroy them took a good blow.

"All right. Let's travel. Koa, go right. I'll go the other way, and we'llwork around the asteroid until we meet."

Rip led the way, gliding as rapidly as he could toward the edge ofdarkness. He called, "Santos. Anyone coming in the direction of thecave?"

"Two pairs. About fifty yards apart. They will be out of my sight in afew seconds."

That meant they would be within sight of Rip and the others. He knew Koahad heard the message, too. Both groups put on more speed and reached thesafety of darkness. "Get down," Rip ordered. They could still be seen, ifsilhouetted against the edge of sunlight.

Starlight gave a little light, but it was too faint to help much. Rip'splan was that the Connies would supply the light needed for an attack.

In a few seconds, as Santos had predicted, belt light beams cut sharppaths through the darkness. Rip sized up the possibilities. There weretwo teams of two men each, and they were getting farther apart with eachstep. One team was coming almost directly toward them. The other two menslanted away from them and would soon be out of sight behind the thoriumcrystals in which the cave was located. Fortunately, the Connies weregoing away from the cave.

A Connie from the nearby team swung his beam back and forth, and it cutspace over their heads. Rip saw a few low pyramids of thorium a few rodsaway. Quickly he ordered, "Dowst, hang on to my boots. Dominico, hang onto Dowst's boots."

He lay face down on the metal ground until he felt hands grip his boots,then he asked, "All set?"

Rip put his gloves on the ground, then heaved forward and slightly upwardto overcome his inertia and that of his men. The trio moved slowly,almost parallel with the surface. Once or twice Rip reached down to aconvenient crystal and put his strength into changing course andaltitude. Those were the only times when he felt the tug of his men.

He reached the first pyramid of thorium and directed, "Get behind theserocks and stay down. Feel your way. Use me for a guide. I'll hold onuntil you're under cover." He gripped a crystal. "Come on."

Dominico pulled himself along Dowst's prone form and then along Rip's.When Dominico had reached the shelter of the crystals, Dowst crawledalong, with Rip's body for his guide, passed over him, and reached cover.Rip followed.

The belt lights of the two Connies were almost abreast of them. Far totheir left, Rip saw another pair of lights. That was a pair he hadn'tseen before.

"We'll wait until they pass," he told his men. "Then we'll get up andrush them from behind. They can't hear us coming. Dowst, you take thenear one. I'll take the far one. Dominico, you help as needed, butconcentrate on cutting off their equipment. The first thing we must do iscut their communicators; otherwise they'll warn the rest. Then turn offtheir air supplies and collapse their suits."

One thing was in their favor. The space suits worn by the Connies werealmost the same as theirs. The controls were of the same kind. The onlyway to know a Connie was by his bubble, which was a little more tubularthan the round bubbles of the Federation.

Rip suddenly realized that he wasn't nervous anymore. He grinned. Afterall, this was what he was trained for.

The Connies came abreast and passed. "Let's go," Rip said, and as he rosehe heard Koa's voice.

The sergeant major said, "Kemp, kneel on their right side. Trudeau andI will hit them from the left and tumble them over you. Get theircommunicators first."

Rip started slowly. He wanted to get directly behind the Connies. Hestayed down low until he was sure they couldn't see him unless theyturned.

Dowst and Dominico were right with him. "Come on," he said, and startedgliding after the helmeted figures. He kept his eyes on the one he hadselected, and he called on all the myriad stars of space to give himluck. If the men turned, his plan for quick victory would fail.

He sensed his Planeteers beside him as the figures loomed ahead. He gavea final spring that sent him through space with knees bent and outthrust,his hands reaching.

His knees connected solidly with the Connie's thighs, and his handsgroped around the bulky space suit. He felt a rheostat control andtwisted savagely, then groped for the distinctive star-shaped buttonof the air supply.

The Connie wrenched violently and threw them both upward. Rip felt thestar shape and twisted. If he could only deflate the Connie's suit! Butthe man was writhing from his grip, clawing for a weapon.

Then Rip stopped reaching for the deflation valve. He grabbed his knife,jerked it free, and thrust it against the middle of the Connie's back.Then he clanged his bubble against the man's helmet for directcommunication and shouted, "Grab some space, or I'll let vack intoyou!"

The Connie understood English. Most earthlings did. But even better washis understanding of the pressure on his back. He stopped struggling; hisarms shot starward.

Rip breathed freely for the first time since he had leaped, andexultation grew in him. He had his first man! His first hand-to-handfight had ended in victory so easily that he could hardly believe it.

He took time to look around him and saw that he was a good five feetabove the asteroid.

Below him, a Connie belt light sent its shaft parallel with the ground,and he knew the second man was down.

The question was, had either of them shouted before their communicatorswere cut off?

"No," Dowst said grimly. "We got the Connie, but he got Dominico. Cut hisleg with a space knife. I'm putting a patch on it. You okay?"

Dominico spoke up. "Don't worry about me, sir. Nothing bad. I don't losemuch air."

But Rip knew it wasn't good, either. A cut with a space knife let air outof the suit and created at least a partial vacuum. If it also cut flesh,the vacuum let the blood pressure force out blood and tissue to turn aminor wound into an ugly one.

They would have to bring this space flap with the Connies to a quick end,Rip thought. He had to get his men into air somehow, to take a look attheir wounds. Bradshaw needed attention immediately, and now so didDominico.

Dowst reached up, took Rip's ankle, and pulled him down. Rip held on tohis captive. Then the private bound the Connie's hands, jerked hiscommunicator control completely off, and turned his air back on. SinceRip had been unable to collapse the suit, the Connie was comfortableenough. The reason for collapsing the suit was to deprive the enemy ofair instantly, so that he could be tied up while helpless from lack ofoxygen. There was enough air in the suit for only a few breaths once thesupply was cut off.

The Connie on the ground was neatly trussed. Rip's prisoner joined him.Dowst switched off his belt light. "Now what, sir?"

Dominico was standing patiently nearby. He said nothing. Rip knew that nomore could be done for the Italian at present. "Go back to the cave,Dominico," he ordered.

Rip was a little worried. He had heard nothing from Koa since that firstexchange. He told Dowst as much. But Koa himself heard and answered.

"Lieutenant, we're all right. Got two Connies, and I don't think they hada chance to yell. But I'm sorry about one, sir. Kemp had to swing at himand busted his bubble."

After all, it was the Connie cruiser's fault Bradshaw had felt high vack."All right. We have four. That leaves nine."

Santos came on the circuit. "Sir, this is Santos. Only three men are atthe snapper-boats. If you could get here without being seen, maybe wecould knock them off. The rest wouldn't be much good if we had theirboats."

"You're right, Santos," Rip replied instantly. Why hadn't he seen thatfor himself? He knew how he and Dowst could approach the craters withoutbeing spotted, now that they had removed two teams of Connies. "We're onour way. Koa, make it if you can."

Dominico was already making his way back to the cave. Rip and Dowststarted for the horizon at a good walk, not afraid now to use theirlights, at least for a few yards. If any of the remaining Connie searchteams saw the lights, they would think they were their own men's.

Rip remembered the lay of the ground and Santos' description of thesnapper-boats' position. He circled almost to the horizon, then toldDowst to cut his light. He cut his own. In a moment they topped thehorizon and, standing with only helmets visible from the snapper-boats,looked the situation over.

The three Connies were standing between them and the boats. To the leftof the boats was the second crater. Rip studied the ground as best hecould in the Connie belt lights and decided on a plan of action. Callingto Dowst, he circled again. Presently they were approaching the crater.The Connies were just about twenty-five yards from the crater's oppositerim.

Rip said, "I hate to do this, Dowst, but I can't see any way out. We haveto go into the crater."

The extra radiation might put both of them well over the safety limitslong before Earth was reached, and they both knew it. He reached thecrater's edge and walked right down into it.

They were out of sight of the Connies now. Rip walked up the other sideof the crater until his bubble was just below ground level. The chunks ofthorium he had ordered thrown in to block some of the radiation madewalking a little difficult.

"Sir, I'm beyond the first, between two crystals. Pederson is near yousomewhere."

"Good. When I give the word, turn up your helmet light until they can seea pretty good glow. Keep watching them." The bubbles were equipped withlights, but they were seldom used. He outlined his plan swiftly. BothSantos and Dowst acknowledged.

Koa reported in. "We're after two more Connies near the wreck of thelanding boat, sir."

For long moments there was silence. Rip felt for a solid foothold, foundone, and flexed his knees. He kept his back straight and his eyes on thecrater rim. His hands were occupied with two air bottles taken from hisbelt, and his thumbs were on their valve releases. He waited patientlyfor word from Santos that his helmet glow had been seen.

Rip's legs straightened with a mighty thrust. He flashed into spaceheadfirst, at an angle that took him over the crater's rim and fifty feetabove the ground. He caught a glimpse of Santos' helmet, glowing like apink balloon, and of the three Connies facing it.

Rip's arms flashed above his head. His thumbs compressed. Air spurtedfrom the two bottles, driving him downward feetfirst, directly at theheads of the Connies!

CHAPTER TEN

Get the Scorpion!

From the corner of his eye, Rip saw Dowst's heavy space boots and knewthe private was right with him. As they drove down, one of the Conniesstepped a little distance away from the others, probably to get a betterlook at Santos. The Connie sensed something and turned, just as Rip andDowst flashed downward on his two mates.

Rip's boots caught one Connie where his bubble joined his suit, and theimpact drove the man downward to the unyielding surface of the asteroidwith a soundless smash. Rip threw up his arms to cushion his helmet as hestruck the ground beyond his enemy. He threw the air bottles away. Hefought to keep his feet under him and almost succeeded, but his knees hitthe ground, and pistol and knife bit into them painfully.

Two figures came into his view, locked tightly together, arms flailing.It was Dowst and the second Connie. He got to his feet and was moving tothe Planeteer's aid when Santos' voice shrilled in his helmet. "Sir! Lookleft!"

Rip whirled. The Connie who had stepped aside was advancing, pistol inhand. His light caught Rip full in the face.

The young officer thought quickly. The Connie hadn't fired. Why? Suddenlyhe had it. The man hadn't fired for fear of hitting his friend, who wasbattling with Dowst. Rip was in front of them. Quickly he dropped to oneknee, reaching for his own pistol. The Connie wouldn't dare fire now. Thehigh-velocity slug would go right through him, to explode in one of thestruggling figures behind—and the wrong one might get it.

The Connie saw Rip's action and tossed his pistol aside. He, too, knew hecouldn't fire. He reached into a knee pouch and drew out his space knife.He leaped for the Planeteer.

Rip pulled frantically at his pistol. It was stuck fast, probably caughtin the fabric by his knee landing. The space knife wouldn't be caught. Itwas smooth, with no projections to catch. He shifted knees and jerked itout.

The Connie's flying body hit him, and a powerful arm circled his waist.Rip thrust upward with his knees, one hand reaching for the Connie'ssuit valve. But the Connie had one arm free, too. He drove his glove upunder Rip's heart. Rip let go of the valve and used his elbow to leveraway, just as the Connie pressed his knife's release valve. The bladeslammed outward and drove into the inside of Rip's right arm, just abovethe elbow.

Pain lanced through him, and he felt the blood rush to the wound as airpoured through the gap in his suit. He gritted his teeth and smashed atthe Connie with his own knife. It rammed home, and he squeezed therelease. The blade connected solidly. He was suddenly free.

He pressed the wounded arm to his side, stopping the outpouring ofair. The cut hurt like all the devils of space. With his other hand heincreased the air in his suit, then looked swiftly around. The Connie wason his knees, both gloves pressed tightly to his side.

Dowst was just finishing a knot in the safety line that bound a secondenemy's hands. The Connie Rip had rocketed down on was still lying wherehe had fallen. And Corporal Santos, the enemy's pneumatic chatter gun atthe ready, was standing guard.

Rip turned up the volume in his communicator. He tried to sound calm,but the shakiness of triumph and excitement was in his voice. "AllPlaneteers. We have the Connie snapper-boats. Koa, bring your men here."

He felt someone working on his arm and turned to see Corporal Pederson,his face one vast grin in the glare from Dowst's belt light. "Koa didn'tneed me," he said.

"Sir, this is Nunez. Two Connies were prowling around, but they didn'tsee the entrance. Then, a minute ago, they hurried away."

With the five he and Dowst had taken, that meant four sill at large, andfrom Nunex's report, some Connie yelling had been going on. The fourcertainly knew by this time that there were Federal men on the asteroid.Unless something were done quickly the four Connies would be shooting atthem from the darkness. He ordered, "All Planeteers, kill your beltlights."

The lights on the Connies they had just taken still glowed. Dowst wasputting a patch on the Connie Rip had stabbed. He waited until theprivate had finished, then said, "Turn out the Connies' lights, too."

If he could get in touch with the Connies, he could tell them they werefinished. But using the snapper-boat radios was out, because the enemycruiser would hear. The cruiser couldn't hear the helmet communications,though, because they carried only a short distance. The cruiser was closeenough so that a helmet communicator turned on full volume might barelybe heard, although it was unlikely.

He couldn't stick his head in a Connie helmet, but he could talk to aConnie by direct communication and have him give instructions.

There was complete darkness with all belt lights out, but he groped hisway to the Connie Dowst had been patching, felt for his helmet, and puthis own against it. He yelled, "Do you hear me?"

It was a perfect opening. "Because we don't want to kill you. Listen. Wehave all but four of you. Understand?"

"Treat you as prisoners—if you behave. Get on your communicator and tellthose four men to surrender. Tell them to come to the boats, with lightson. Tell them we'll give them five minutes. If they don't come, we'llhunt them with rockets. Make that clear."

Rip kept his helmet against the Connie's, but the man spoke in anotherlanguage, which Rip identified as the main Consops tongue. When he hadfinished, Rip told his Planeteers to have weapons ready and to keeplights off. Time enough for light when the Connies were all disarmed.

It didn't take five minutes. The Connie teams came quickly and willingly,and they seemed almost glad to give up their pistols and knives. This wasnot unusual. Rip had seen many Planeteer reports that spoke of the samething. Many Connies, it seemed, were glad to get away from the ironConsops rule, even if it meant becoming Federation prisoners.

Inside one of the snapper-boats a light glowed. Rip put his helmetagainst that of the man who had given the surrender order and demanded,"What's that light?"

Rip considered demanding that the Connie answer, then thought better ofit. He would do it himself. After all, they had hostages. The cruiserwouldn't take any further action. He climbed into the snapper-boat andhunted for the plug-in terminal. It fitted his own belt jack. He pluggedin and said, "Go ahead."

There was an instant of silence, then an accented voice demanded, "Whyare you speaking English?"

Rip replied formally, "This is Lieutenant Foster, Federation SpecialOrder Squadrons, in charge on the asteroid. Your landing party is inour hands, as prisoners, two wounded, none dead. If you agree towithdraw, we will send the wounded men back to you in one boat. The restwill remain here as hostages for your good behavior."

"Stand by," the voice said. There was silence for several moments, then anew voice said, "This is the cruiser commander. We make a counteroffer.If you release our men and surrender to them, we will spare the lives ofyou and your men."

Rip listened incredulously. The commanding officer didn't understand. He,Rip, held the whip hand, because the lives of the Connie prisoners werein his hands. He repeated his offer.

"You are mistaken," the harsh voice said. "We will sweep the asteroidclean with our exhaust, but this time we will be more thorough. Whenwe have finished, we will hammer you with guided missiles. Then we willsend snapper-boats with rockets to hunt down any who remain. We intend tohave that thorium. You had better surrender."

Rip couldn't believe it. The cruiser commander had no hesitation insacrificing his own men! And it was not a bluff. He knew instinctivelythat the Connie commander meant it. Instantly he unplugged the radioconnection from his belt and spoke urgently. "Koa, get everyone undercover in the cave. Hurry! Collect all the Connies and take them withyou."

He watched his chronometer, planning the next move. When the minuteended, he asked, "Commander, how do we know you will spare our lives ifwe surrender?" Through the transparent shell of the snapper-boat he sawlights moving toward the horizon and knew Koa was following orders.

"You don't know," the cruiser answered. "You must take our word for it.But if you surrender, we have no reason to wish you harm."

Rip remained silent. The seconds ticked past until the commander snapped,"Quickly! You have no more time."

Rip grinned. He made his voice whine. "But, sir, it is against the law ofthe Federation to shoot men without a trial."

The commander lapsed into his own language, caught himself, then barked,"You are no longer under Federation law. You are under the Consolidationof People's Governments. Do you surrender or not? Answer at once, or wetake action anyway. Quick!"

Rip knew he could stall no longer. He said coolly, "If you had brainsin your head instead of high vacuum, you'd know that Planeteers neversurrender. Blast away, you filthy space pirate!"

He jerked the plug loose, hesitated for a second over whether or not totake the snapper-boat, and decided against it. He wasn't familiar withConnie controls, and there wasn't time to experiment. He headed for thecave.

The Connie cruiser lost no time. Its stern tubes flamed, then itssteering tubes. It was going to drive directly at the asteroid withoutmaking a long run! Rip estimated quickly and realized that the Conniewould get to the asteroid at the same time that he reached the cave—ifhe made it.

He speeded up as fast as he dared. With little gravity on the asteroid,he couldn't fall, but a false step could lift him into space and makehim lose time while he got out an air bottle to propel him down again.The thought gave him an idea. Without slowing he took two bottles fromhis belt, turned them so the openings pointed backward, squeezed therelease valves.

The Connie was gaining speed, blasting straight toward him. Rip spedforward and crossed to the sun side, intent on the cave entrance but nolonger sure he would make it. The Connie's nose tube shot a cylinder offlame forward, reaching for the asteroid. He saw the fire lick downwardand sweep toward him with appalling speed as he put everything he hadinto a frantic dive for the cave entrance. The flaming rocket exhaustseemed to snatch at him as a dozen hands pulled him to safety, then beatthe sparks from his suit.

He was safe. He leaned against Koa, his heart thumping wildly. For amoment or two he couldn't speak; then he managed, "Thanks."

Koa spoke for the Planeteers. "We're the ones to say thanks, sir. If youhadn't thought of stalling the cruiser, and if you hadn't stayed behindto give us time, we'd have some casualties, and so would the Connies wecaptured."

"There wasn't anything else I could do," Rip replied. "Come on, Koa.Let's see what the cruiser is doing."

They stepped outside. The metal was already cold again. Things didn'tstay hot in the vacuum of space.

They didn't see the Connie until the fire of its exhaust suddenly blastedabove the horizon, and then they ducked for cover. The cruiser had takena swing at the other side of the asteroid. They peered out again and sawit turning.

"He won't get us," Rip said confidently. "Our tough time will come whenhe sends a fleet of snapper-boats."

The cruiser had started for the asteroid. Suddenly jets flamed from everyquarter of the ship. He was using all steering jets at once! Rip watched,bewildered, as the great ship spun slowly, advanced, then settled to astop just at the horizon.

They ran forward a short distance until they could see below the cave'shorizon level. The cruiser released exhausts from both sides of the ship,the outer ones the slightest bit stronger. Rip exclaimed, "Great Cosmos,he's cuddling right up to the asteroid! Why?"

Rip saw his meaning instantly, and they raced to the side of the asteroidaway from the ship. As they crossed into the dark half, Rip looked back.He couldn't see the cruiser from here. But he looked out into space,across the horizon, and knew that Koa's guess had been right. Thedistinctive glow of a nuclear drive cruiser was clear among the stars.

"The Connie saw it," Rip said worriedly, "but didn't blast away. Thatmeans he's intending to ambush theScorpius. Koa, if he does, thatmeans war."

The tall officer shook his head. "Sir, the Connie has guided missileswith atomic warheads, just as our ship has. If he can launch one fromambush and hit our ship, that's the end of it. TheScorpius will benothing but space junk. Commander O'Brine will never have time to getoff a message, because he'll be dead before he knows there is danger."

The logic of it sent a chill down Rip's spine. The Connie could get theScorpius with one nuclear blast and then clean up the asteroid atleisure. The Federation would suspect, but it would be unable to proveanything, because there would be no witnesses. If the Connie took time totow the remains of theScorpius deep into the asteroid belt, it likelywould never be found, no matter how the Federation searched.

They had to warn the ship. But how? Their helmet communicators wouldn'treach it until it was right at the asteroid, and that would be too late.They had no other radio. If only the radios in the snapper-boats were ona Federation frequency.... Hey! They could take one of the boats andintercept the cruiser!

He was hurrying toward them before Koa understood what he was saying. Hetried to make his legs go faster, but they were unsteady. He knew he waslosing blood. He had lost plenty. He gritted his teeth and kept going.

The snapper-boats seemed miles away to Rip, but he plugged ahead untilhis belt light picked them up. He took a long look, then turned away,heartsick. The Connie's exhaust had charred them into wreckage.

They went back to the cave, not hurrying because Rip no longer had thestrength to hurry. Weakness and a deep desire to sleep almost overcamehim, and he knew that he was finished, anyway. His wound must be too deepto clot, which meant it would bleed until he bled to death. Whether hewarned theScorpius or not, his end was the same.

Back in the cave, he leaned against the wall and asked tiredly. "How isDominico?"

"Unconscious, sir," Santos replied. "He must be bleeding badly, but wecan't tell. The one you landed on is all right now, but he may have abroken rib or two."

Because his voice was weak, Rip had to turn up the volume on hiscommunicator to tell the Planeteers about theScorpius. They weresilent when he finished. Then Dowst spoke up.

"Looks like they have us, sir. But we'll take plenty of them with usbefore we're finished."

"That's the spirit," Rip told them. "I won't last much longer. When I gettoo weak, Koa will take over. Meanwhile, I want to get outside. Bring therocket launcher outside, too. Who's the gunner? Santos? Stand by, then.We'll need you, in case the Connie decides to send a few snappers beforeit goes after the Scorpius."

The cruiser's glow was plain above the horizon now. It was so close thatthey could make out its form against the background of stars. O'Brine wasdecelerating, and Rip was certain he was watching his screens for a signof the enemy. He would see nothing, because the enemy was in the shadowof the asteroid. He would think the coast was clear and would come to astop nearby while he asked why Rip had called for help. Failing to get areply, since the landing boat was wrecked, he would send a landing party,and the Connie would attack while he was launching boats, off guard.

Rip watched the prediction come true. The nuclear cruiser slowedgradually, its great bulk nearing the asteroid. O'Brine was operating asexpected.

Rip was having trouble keeping his vision from blurring. He leanedagainst the rocket launcher, and his glove caressed one of the sharpnoses in the rack.

He heard his own voice before the idea had even taken full form. "Santos!Do you hear me? Santos! Get theScorpius! Fire before it comes to astop. And don't miss!"

Santos started to protest, but Koa bellowed, "Do it! The lieutenant'sright. It's the only chance we've got to warn the ship. Get the scorpion,Santos. Dead amidships!"

The young corporal swung into action. His space gloves flew as he crankedthe launcher around, turned on the illuminated sight, and bent low overit. Rip stood behind the corporal. He saw the cruiser's shape stand outin the glow of the sight, saw the sighting rings move as Santos correctedfor its speed.

The corporal fired. Fire flared back past his shoulder. The rocketflashed away, its trail dwindling as it sped toward the great bulkabove. It reachedBrennschluss, and there was darkness. Rip held hisbreath for long seconds, then gave a weak cry of victory.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Hard Words

TheScorpius could have taken direct hits with little or no majordamage from a hundred rockets of the kind Rip had used, but CommanderO'Brine took no chances. When the alarm bell signaled that the outer hullhad been hit, the commander acted instantly with a bellowed order.

The Planeteers on the asteroid blinked at the speed of the cruiser'sgetaway. Fire flamed from the stern tubes for an instant, and then therewas nothing but a fading glow where theScorpius had been.

Rip had a mental image of everything movable in the ship crashing againstbulkheads with the terrific acceleration.

And in the same moment, the Consops cruiser reacted. The Connie commanderwas ready to fire guided missiles, when his target suddenly,mysteriously, blasted into space at optimum acceleration. There was onlyone reason the Connie could imagine: His cruiser had been spotted. Theambush had failed. It was one thing for the Connie to lie in ambush fora single, deadly surprise blast at the Federation cruiser. It was quiteanother to face the nuclear drive ship with its missile ports cleared foraction. The Connie knew he had lost.

Rip and the Planeteers saw the Consops ship suddenly flame away, thenturn and dive for low space below the asteroid belt, in a directionopposite to the one theScorpius had taken. The Planeteers' helmetcommunicators rang with their cheers.

The young officer clapped Santos on the shoulder and exclaimed weakly,"Good shooting!"

The corporal turned anxiously to Koa. "The lieutenant's pretty weak.Can't we do something?"

"Forget it," Rip said. There was nothing anyone could do. He was trappedinside his space suit. There was nothing anyone could do for his wounduntil he got into air.

Koa untied his safety line and moved to Rip's side. "Sir, this isdangerous, but there's just as much danger without it. I'm going to tieoff that arm."

Rip knew what Koa meant. He stood quietly as the big sergeant major putthe line around his arm above the wound, then put his massive strengthinto the task of pulling the line tight.

The heavy fabric of the suit was stiff, and the air pressure gave furtherresistance that had to be overcome. Rip let most of the air out of thesuit, then fought for breath until the pain in his arm told him that Koahad succeeded. He inflated the suit again and thanked the sergeant majorweakly.

The tight line stopped the bleeding, but it also cut off the aircirculation. Without the air, the heating system couldn't operateefficiently. It was only a matter of time before the arm froze.

"Stand easy," Rip told his men. "Nothing to do now but wait. TheScorpius will be back." He set an example by leaning against thethorium crystal in which the cave was located. It was a natural butrather meaningless gesture. With virtually no gravity pulling at them,they could remain standing almost indefinitely, sleeping upright.

Rip closed his eyes and relaxed. The pain in his arm was less now, and heknew the cold was setting in. He was getting lightheaded, and, most ofall, he wanted to sleep. Well, why not? He slumped a little inside thesuit.

He awoke with Koa shaking him violently. Rip stood upright and shook hishead to clear his vision. "What is it?"

Rip blinked as he stared out into space to where Koa was pointing. He hadtrouble focusing his eyes at first, and then he saw the glow of thecruiser.

Rip wanted to ask why the big Planeteer was dubious, but he was too tiredto phrase the question. He contented himself with watching the cruiser.

In a short time theScorpius was balanced, with nose tubescounteracting the thrust of stern tubes, ready to flash into space againat a second's notice.

Rip watched, puzzled. The cruiser was miles away. Why didn't it come anycloser? Then suddenly it erupted a dozen fiery streaks.

Rip jerked fully awake. In the ruddy glow of the fighting rockets' tubes,he had seen that the cruiser's missile ports were yawning wide, ready tospew forth their deadly nuclear charges in an instant.

The snapper-boats flashed toward the asteroid in a group, sheered off,and broke formation. They came back in pairs, streaking space with thesparks of their exhausts.

The Planeteers obeyed instantly. Koa took Rip's arm to lead him inside,but the young officer shook him off. "No, Koa. I'll take my chances outhere. I want to see what they're up to."

"Great Cosmos, sir! They'll go over this rock like Martian beetles.You'll get it, for sure."

"Get inside," Rip ordered. He gathered strength enough to make his voicefirm. "I'm staying here until I figure out some way to call them off. Wecan't just stand here and let them blast us. They're our own men."

A pair of snapper-boats flashed overhead and vanished below the horizon.Two more swept past from another direction.

Rip watched, curious. What were they up to? Another pair quartered pastthem at high speed, then two more. The boats seemed to be crisscrossingthe asteroid in a definite pattern.

A pair streaked past, and something sped downward from one of them,trailing yellow flame. It exploded in a ball of molten fire that lickedacross the asteroid in waves. Rip tensed, then saw that the chemicalwould burn out before it reached them.

Rip nodded. He had recognized it. The Planeteers were trained in the useof fire bombs, tanks of chemicals that burned even in an airless world.They were equipped with simple jets for use in space.

The snapper-boats drew off, back toward theScorpius. Rip watched,searching for some reason for their actions. Then one of the boatspulled away from the others. It returned to the asteroid, with stern jetburning fitfully.

Directly above the asteroid it changed direction, circled, and returnedover their heads. Rip could almost have picked it off with a pistol shot.Santos could have blasted it into space dust with one rocket.

The snapper-boat changed direction, and for a fraction of a second sternand side tubes "fought" each other, making the boat yaw wildly. Then itstraightened out on a new course.

Rip got it then. A pilotless snapper-boat! That's why its actions were alittle uneven. Only one thing could explain its deliberate slowness. Itwas bait. TheScorpius had sent piloted snapper-boats over the asteroidat high speed, crisscrossing in order to cover the thorium worldcompletely, expecting to have the unknown rocketeer fire at them. Then afire bomb had been dropped as a further means of getting the asteroid tofire. But no rockets had been fired from the asteroid, so the pilot incontrol of the drone had sent it at low speed, a perfect target.

That meant O'Brine wasn't sure of what was going on. He must have seenthe blip on his screen as the Connie cruiser flamed off, Kip reasoned.But the commander probably suspected that the Connies had overcomethe Planeteers and were in control of the asteroid. He had sent thesnapper-boats to try to draw fire, in an attempt to find out more surelywhether Planeteers or Connies had the thorium rock.

"TheScorpius doesn't know what's going on," Rip told his Planeteers."O'Brine didn't know the cruiser was waiting to ambush him, so the rocketwe fired made him think the Connies had taken us over."

He put himself in O'Brine's place. What would his next step be? Thesnapper-boats hadn't drawn fire, even when a drone was sent over at lowspeed. The next thing would be to send a piloted boat over slowly enoughto take a look.

Rip hoped O'Brine would hurry. There was no longer any feeling in his armbelow Koa's safety line. That meant the arm had frozen. He had to getmedical attention from theScorpius pretty soon.

He gritted his teeth. At least he was no longer losing blood. He wasn'tgetting any weaker. But every now and then his vision fogged, and he hadto shake his head to clear it.

The pilotless snapper-boat made another slow run, then put on speedand flashed back to the group of boats near the cruiser. Another boatdetached itself from the squadron and moved toward the asteroid.

Rip wished for a communicator powerful enough to reach theScorpius,but he knew it was useless to try with his helmet circuit. The carrierwaves of the snapper-boats were on the same frequency, and they wouldsmother the faint signal from his bubble.

But the boats might be able to hear if they got close enough! He had aswift memory of the communications circuits. The pilots were plugged intotheir boat communicators. If a boat got near enough, he could turn up hisbubble to full volume and yell. Not only would the boat pilot hear him,but also his voice would go through the pilot's circuit and be heard inthe ship!

The two of them stepped away from the cave and stood in full view as thesnapper-boat moved cautiously down toward the asteroid. Rip planned whathe would say. "Commander O'Brine, this is Foster!"

No, that wouldn't do. Connies would know that Kevin O'Brine commanded theScorpius, and if they had taken over the Planeteers on the asteroid,they would also have learned Rip's name. He had to say something thatwould immediately identify him beyond the shadow of a doubt.

The snapper-boat was closing in slowly. Rip knew the pilot and gunnermust be tense, frightened, ready to blast with their guns at the firstwrong move on the asteroid. He groped with his good arm and turned up hishelmet communicator to full volume.

The fighting rocket drew closer, cut in its nose tube, and hovered only afew hundred feet above the Planeteers.

Rip summoned enough strength to make his voice sharp and clear. His wordssped through space into the bubble of the pilot, echoed in the helmet,were picked up by the pilot's microphone, and then were hurled throughthe snapper-boat circuit and through space to the cruiser's control room.

O'Brine stiffened as the speaker threw Rip's voice at him, amplified andhollow-sounding from reverberations in the snapper-boat pilot's helmet.

"O'Brine is so ugly he won't look at his face in a clean blast tube!That no-good Irishman wouldn't know what to do with an asteroid if he hadone!"

A junior space officer hid a grin and murmured, "Looks like thePlaneteers still have the asteroid."

O'Brine bent over the communicator and yelled, "Deputy commander! Launchlanding boats. Get those Planeteers and bring them here under armedguard. Ram it!"

The snapper-boat pilot through whose circuit Rip had yelled turned tolook wide-eyed at his gunner. "Did you hear that? Throw a light down onthe asteroid. It must have come from there."

The gunner threw a switch, and a searchlight port opened in the boat'sbelly. Its beam searched downward, swept past, then steadied on twospace-suited figures.

"It worked," Rip said tiredly. He closed his eyes to guard them againstthe brilliant glare, then waved his good arm.

"Bring out the prisoners," Rip ordered. "Line them up. Planeteers fall inbehind them."

The landing boats, with snapper-boats in watchful attendance, blasteddown to the surface of the asteroid. Spacemen jumped out, awkward atfirst on the no-weight surface. An officer glided to meet Rip, and he hada pistol in his hand.

"It's all right," Rip told him. "The Connies are our prisoners. You won'tneed guns."

"I can't argue with a loaded gun," Rip said wearily. He called to hismen. "We're under arrest. I don't know why. Don't try to resist. Do asthe spacemen order."

Rip got aboard the nearest landing boat, his head spinning. O'Brine hadmade a mistake of some kind.

The landing boats, loaded with Planeteers and Connies, lifted from theasteroid to the cruiser. They slid smoothly into the air locks andsettled. The massive lock doors slid closed and lights flickered on. Ripwaited, trying to keep consciousness from slipping away.

The lock gauges registered normal air, and the inner valves slid open.Commander O'Brine stepped through, his square jaw outthrust and his faceflushed with anger. He bellowed, "Where's Foster?"

His voice was so loud that Rip heard him even through the bubble. Hestepped out of the boat and faced the irate commander.

Two spacemen jumped forward. One twisted Rip's bubble free and lifted itoff. The heavy air of the ship hit him with physical force.

O'Brine grated, "You're under arrest, Foster, for firing on theScorpius, for insubordination, and for conduct unbecoming an officer.Get out of that suit and get flaming. It's the space pot for you."

Rip had to grin. He couldn't help it. He started to reply, but the heavyair of the cruiser, so much richer and denser than that of the suits, wastoo much. He fell, unconscious.

There was no gravity to pull him to the floor, but the action of hisrelaxing muscles swung him slowly until he lay facedown in the air afew feet above the floor.

Commander O'Brine stared for a moment, then took the unconsciousPlaneteer and swung him upright. His quick eyes took in the patchon the arm, the safety line tied tightly. He roared, "Quick! Get himto the wound ward!"

Rip came back to consciousness on the operating table. The wound in hisarm had been neatly repaired, and below the wound, where his arm hadfrozen, a plastic temperature bag was slowly bringing the cold flesh backto normal. On his other side, a pulsing pressure pump forced new bloodfrom the ship's supplies into his veins.

A senior space officer, with the golden lancet of the medical service onhis tunic, bent over him. "How do you feel?"

Rip's voice surprised him. It was as full and strong as ever. "I feelwonderful. Can I get up?"

O'Brine glared down at Rip. "Can you give me a good reason why Ishouldn't have you treated for space madness and then toss you in thespace pot until we reach Earth?"

"Best reason in the galaxy," Rip said cheerfully. "But before we talkabout it, I want to know how my men are. One got cut, and another had hisbubble cracked. Also, one of the Connies got badly cut, another had somebroken bones, and a third one bled into high vack when Koa cracked hisbubble."

The doctor answered Rip's question. "Your men are all right. We put theone with the cracked bubble into high compression for a while, just torelieve his pain a little. The other one didn't bleed much. He's back inthe squad room right now. Two of the prisoners are patched up, but thethird one is in the other operating room. I don't know whether we cansave him or not. We're trying."

O'Brine nodded. "Thanks, Doctor. Now, Foster, start talking. You firedon this ship, scored a hit, and broke the air seal. No casualties,fortunately. But by forcing us to accelerate at optimum speed, you causedso much breakage of ship's stores that we'll have to put into Marsportfor new stocks. And on top of all that, you insulted me within thehearing of every man on the ship. I don't mind being insulted byPlaneteers. I'm used to it. But when it's done over the communicationssystem, it's bad for discipline."

Rip tried to keep a straight face. He said mildly, "Sir, I'm surprisedyou even give me a chance to explain."

"I wouldn't have," O'Brine said frankly. "I would have shot off a specialmessage to Earth, relieving you of command and asking for DisciplineBoard action. But when I saw those Connie prisoners, I knew there wasmore to this than just a young space pup going vack-wacky."

"There was, Commander." Rip recited the events of the past few hourswhile the Irishman listened with growing amazement. "I had to convinceyou in a hurry that we still held the asteroid, so I used some insultingphrases that would let you know, without any doubt, who was talking. Andyou did know, didn't you, sir?"

O'Brine flushed. For a long moment his glance locked with Rip's, then heroared with laughter.

"Accepted," O'Brine chuckled. "I'm rather sorry I don't have an excusefor dumping you in the space pot, though, Foster. Your explanation isacceptable, but I have a suspicion that you enjoyed calling me names."

"I might have," Rip admitted, "but I wasn't in very good shape. The onlything I could think of was getting into air so I could have my armtreated. Commander, we've moved the asteroid. Now we have to correctcourse. And we have to get some new equipment, including nucliteshielding. Also, sir, I'd appreciate it if you'd let my men clean up andeat. They haven't been in air since we left the cruiser."

For answer, O'Brine strode to the operating-room communicator. "Get it,"he called. "The deputy commander will prepare landing boat one and issuenew space suits and helmets for all Planeteers with damaged equipment.Put in two rolls of nuclite. Sergeant Major Koa will see that allPlaneteers have an opportunity to clean up and eat. They will return tothe asteroid in one hour."

The doctor replied, "Your arm will be normal in about twenty minutes. Itwill ache some, but you'll have full use of it. We'll bring you back tothe ship in about twenty-four hours for another look at it, just to besure."

Sixty minutes later, clean, fed, and contented, the Planeteers were againon the thorium planet, while theScorpius, riding the same orbit, stoodby a few miles out in space.

The asteroid and the great cruiser arched high above the belt of tinyworlds in the orbit Rip had set, traveling together toward distant Mars.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Mercury Transit

The long hours passed, and only Rip's chronometer told him when the endof a day was reached. The Planeteers alternately worked on the surfaceand rested in the air of the landing boat compartment, while the asteroidsped steadily on its way.

When a series of sightings over several days gave Rip enough exact datato work on, he recalculated the orbit, found the amount that the coursehad to be corrected, and supervised the cutting of new holes in themetal.

Tubes of ordinary rocket fuel were placed in these and fired, and thethrust moved the asteroid slightly, just enough to make the correctionsRip needed. It was not necessary to take to the landing boat for theseblasts. The Planeteers retired to their cave, which was now lined withnuclite as a protection against radiation.

Rip watched his dosimeter climb steadily as the radiation dosage mounted.Then he took the landing boat to the Scorpius, talked the problem overwith the ship's medical department, and arranged for his men to takeinjections that would keep them from getting radiation sickness.

They left the asteroid belt far behind and passed within ten thousandmiles of Mars. TheScorpius sent its entire complement of snapper-boatsto the asteroid for protection, in case Consops made another try, thenflamed off to Marsport to put in new supplies to replace those damagedwhen Rip had forced sudden and disastrous acceleration.

The asteroid had reached Earth's solar orbit before the cruiser returned,though Earth itself was on the other side of the sun. Rip ordered asurvey and found the best place on the dark side to make a new base. ThePlaneteers cut out a cave with the torch, lined it with nuclite, andmoved in the supplies. It would be their base to the end of the trip.

The sun was very hot now. On the sunny side of the asteroid thetemperature had soared far past the boiling point of water. But on thedark side, Rip measured temperatures close to absolute zero.

When theScorpius returned, he arranged with Commander O'Brine for thePlaneteers to take turns going to the cruiser for showers and decentmeals.

The asteroid approached the orbit of Venus, but the bright planet wassome distance away, at its greatest elongation to the east of the sun.Mercury, however, loomed larger and larger. They would pass close to thehot planet.

The commander sighed. "Looks like I'll never get to Earth long enough tosee my family."

Rip sympathized. "Tough, sir. Perhaps the cargo from Titan will bescheduled for Terra."

"That's what I hope," O'Brine agreed. "Well, here's where we part. Isthere anything you need?"

Rip made a mental check on supplies. He had more than enough. "The onlything we need is a long-range communicator, sir. We'll need one tocontact the planet bases."

"I'll see that you get one." The Irishman thrust out his hand. "Stayout of high vack, Foster. Too bad you didn't join us instead of thePlaneteers. I might have made a decent officer out of you."

Rip grinned. "That's a real compliment, sir. I might return it by sayingthat you have the makings of a Planeteer officer yourself."

O'Brine chuckled. "All right. Let's declare a truce, Planeteer. We'llmeet again. Space isn't very big."

A short time later Rip stood in front of his asteroid base and watchedthe great cruiser drive into space. A short distance away a snapper-boatwas lashed to the landing boat. O'Brine had left it, with a word ofwarning.

"These Connies are plenty smart. I don't like leaving you unprotected,even within reach of Mercury and Terra, but orders are orders. Keep thesnapper-boat, and you'll at least be able to put up a fight if you bumpinto trouble."

The asteroid sped on its lonely way for two days, and then a cruiser cameout of space, its nuclear drive glowing. The Planeteers manned the rocketlauncher, and Rip and Santos stood by the snapper-boat, just in case, butthe cruiser was theSagittarius, out of Mercury.

Capt. Go Sian-tek, a Chinese Planeteer officer, arrived in one of thecruiser's boats with three enlisted men.

Captain Go greeted Rip and his men, then handed over a plastic stylusplate ordering Rip to deliver six cubic meters of thorium for use onMercury. While Koa supervised the cutting of the block, Rip and thecaptain chatted.

The Mercurian Planeteer base was in the twilight zone, but the Planeteersalways worked on the sun side, wearing special alloy suits to mine theprecious nuclite that only the hot planet provided.

At some time during its first years, Mercury had been so close to thesun that its temperature was driven high enough to permit a subatomicthermonuclear reaction. The reaction had shorn some elements of theirelectrons and left a thin coating of material composed almost entirelyof neutrons. The nuclite was incredibly dense. It could be handled onlyin low gravity because of its weight. But nothing else provided theshielding against radiation and meteors half so well, and it was in greatdemand.

"Things aren't so bad," Go told Rip. "The base is comfortable, and weonly work a two-hour shift out of each ten. We've had a plague of sillydillies recently. They got into one man's suit while we were working, butmostly they're just a nuisance."

Rip had heard of the creatures. They were like Earth armadillos, exceptthat they were silicon animals and not carbon like those of Earth. Theywere drawn to oxygen like iron to a magnet, and their diamond-hardtongues, used for drilling rock in order to get the minerals on whichthey lived, could drive right through a space suit. Or, if these animalsworked undetected for a while, they could drill through the shell of aspace station.

Scralabus primus was the scientific name of the creature, but the factthat it looked like a silicon armadillo had given it the popular name of"silly dilly." Apart from its desire for oxygen, it was harmless.

Koa reported, "Sir, the block of thorium is ready. We've hung it on aline behind the landing-boat. The blast won't hurt it, and it's too bigto get inside the boat."

The Mercurian Planeteers got into their craft and blasted off, trailingthe block of thorium in their exhaust. Rip watched the cruiser take thecraft and thorium aboard, then drive toward Mercury, brilliant sunlightreflecting from its sleek sides. The planet was only a short distanceaway by spaceship. It was the largest thing in space, except for the sun,as seen from the asteroid.

Past the orbit of Mercury, the sun side of the asteroid grew dangerouslyhot for men in space suits. Rip and the Planeteers stayed in the bittercold of the dark side, which ceased to be entirely dark. The temperaturerose somewhat. They were close enough to the sun that the prominences,great flaming tongues of hydrogen that sped many thousands of miles intospace, gave them light and enough heat to register on Rip's instruments.

Mercury was left far behind, and Earth could not be seen because of thesun. There was nothing to do now but ride out the rest of the trip ascomfortably as possible, until it was time to throw the asteroid intoa series of ever-tightening elliptical orbits around Earth, known asbraking ellipses. The method would use Earth's gravity to slow them downto the proper speed. A single atomic bomb and a half dozen tubes ofrocket fuel remained.

Then, as Rip was enjoying the comfort of air during his off-watch hour inthe boat compartment, Koa beat an alarm on the door.

"It's Terra base calling on the communicator, sir," Koa reported. "Urgentmessage, they said, and they want to talk to you personally."

Rip hurried to the cave. The communicator indicator light was glowingbright red. He plugged in his helmet circuit and said, "This isLieutenant Foster. Go ahead."

A voice crackled across space from Earth. "This is Terra base. Foster,a Consops cruiser has apparently been hiding behind the sun waiting foryou. Our screens just picked it up, heading your way. We've sent ordersto theSagittarius on Mercury to give you cover, and theAquila hastaken off from here. But get this, Foster. The Consops cruiser will reachyou first. You have about one hour. Do you understand?"

Rip understood all right. He understood too well. "Got you," he saidshortly. "Now what?"

The communicator buzzed. "Take any appropriate action. You're on yourown. Sorry. Sending the cruisers is all we can do. We'll stand by forword from you. If you think of any way we can help, let us know."

"You're too close to us for them to move fast. They'll have to use timeaccelerating and decelerating. TheSagittarius should arrive insomething less than two hours and theAquila a few minutes later."

The communicator paused, then continued. "One thing more, Foster. TheConnies know how badly we want that asteroid, but they also know we don'twant it enough to start a war. Got that?"

"Got it," Rip stated wryly. "I got it good. Thanks for the warning, Terrabase. Foster off."

Fine advice, if it could be taken. Rip stared up at the brilliant stars,thinking fast. The Connie would have almost an hour's lead on thespace-patrol cruisers. In that hour, if the Connie were willing to paythe price in blasted snapper-boats, Consops would have the asteroid. AndTerra base had made it clear that the space patrol would not try to blastthe Connie cruiser, because that would mean war.

Added together, the facts said just one thing: They had one hour in whichto think of some way to hold off the Connies for an additional hour.

The Planeteers were clustered around him. Rip asked grimly, "Any of youever study the ancient art of magic?"

"Magic is what we need," Rip told them. "We have to make the wholeasteroid disappear, or else we have to conjure up a space cruiser outof the thorium. Otherwise, we have barely an hour till we're eitherprisoners or dead!"

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Peril!

Sergeant major Koa asked thoughtfully, "Sir, would it do the Connie muchgood to launch boats this close to the sun? They'd have to use too muchfuel just keeping position."

"You could be right," Rip said slowly. Koa had a point! To countergravitational attraction took velocity, which meant consumption of fuel.Maneuvering boats meant rapid velocity changes. Against the sun'sterrific gravity at this distance, it also meant maximum thrust andmaximum fuel flow most of the time. The asteroid, in a planned orbit withthe correct velocity, was safe enough, and the Connie cruiser wouldsimply match the asteroid's orbit. But boats, which had to maneuver, wereanother matter.

Rip figured quickly. In accordance with Newton's Law, gravitationalattraction increased rapidly on approaching a body. If he could put theasteroid even closer to the sun, the boat problem would become worse,until even a small velocity change in the wrong direction could leavea boat in the terrible position of not having enough thrust for a longenough time to keep from being drawn into the sun.

But to change the asteroid's orbit was dangerous! It meant losing justenough velocity to be drawn closer to the sun, and then picking up a muchhigher velocity to get free again!

Rip got his instruments and pulled out a special slide rule designed foruse in space. He had Koa stand by with stylus and computation board andtake down his figures.

He recalculated the safety factor he had used when deciding how closeto the sun to put the asteroid, then took quick star sights to determinetheir exact position. They were within a few miles of perihelion, thepoint at which they would be closest to Sol.

Rip tapped gloved fingers on his helmet absently. If they could blast outof the orbit and drive into the sun.... He estimated the result. A fewmiles per second of less speed would let them be pulled so far within thesun's field of gravity that, within an hour or so, small boats wouldventure into space only at their peril.

He reviewed the equipment. They had tubes of rocket fuel, but the tubeswouldn't give the powerful thrust needed for this job. They had oneatomic bomb. One wasn't enough. Not only must they drive toward the sun,but also they must keep reserve power to blast free again. If only theyhad a pair of nuclear charges!

He called his Planeteers together and outlined the problem. Perhapsone of them would have an idea. But no useful suggestions wereforth-coming—until Dominico spoke up. "Sir, why don't we make twobombs from one?"

"No, Lieutenant. If we had parts, I could put bombs together. I can takethem apart, but I don't know how to make two out of one." The ItalianPlaneteer looked accusingly at Rip. "I thought maybe you knew, sir."

Rip grunted. If they had parts, he could assemble nuclear bombs, too.Part of his physics training had been concerned with fission and itsvarious applications. But no one had taught him how to make two bombsout of one.

The theory behind this particular bomb design was simple. Two or morecorrectly sized pieces of plutonium or uranium isotope, when broughttogether, formed what was known as a critical mass, which would fission.The fissioning released energy and produced the explosion.

But there was a wide gap between theory and practice. A nuclear bomb wasactually pretty complicated. It had to be complicated to keep the piecesof the fissionable material apart until a chemical explosion drove themtogether fast and hard enough to create a fission explosion. If thepieces weren't brought together rapidly enough, the mass would fissionin a slow chain reaction with no explosion.

Rip was trained in scientific analysis. He tackled the problem logically,considering the design of a nuclear bomb and the reasons for it.

Atomic bombs had to be carried. That meant an outer casing was necessary.The casing had a lot to do with the design. Suppose no casing wererequired? What would be needed?

He took the stylus and computation board from Koa and jotted down theparts required. First, two or more pieces of plutonium large enough toform a critical mass. Second, a neutron source—the type of radioactivitythat produced neutrons—to accelerate the reaction. Third, some kind ofneutron reflector. And fourth, explosive to drive the pieces together.

Did they have all those items? He checked them off. Their single five KTbomb contained at least enough plutonium for two critical masses, ifbrought together inside a good neutron reflector. Each mass should giveabout a two kiloton explosion. And they did have a good neutronreflector—nuclite. There wasn't anything better.

"What have we got for a neutron source?" he asked aloud. He was reallyasking himself, but he got a quick answer from Koa.

"Sir, some of the stuff left in the craters from the other explosionsgives off neutrons."

"You're right," Rip agreed instantly. A small piece from one of thecraters, when combined with half of the neutron source in the bomb,should be enough. As for the explosive, they had exploding heads on theirattack rockets.

In other words, he had what he needed—except for a method of putting allthe pieces together to create a bomb.

If only they had a tube of some sort that would withstand the chemicalexplosion—the one that brought the critical mass together!

He told the Planeteers what he had been thinking, then asked, "Any ideasfor a tube?"

Rip shook his head. "Not strong enough. They're designed to withstand theslow push of rocket fuel, not the fast rap of an explosion. When I sayslow, I mean slow-burning when compared with explosive. Any more ideas?"

Rip grabbed the Planeteer so hard they both floated upward. "Kemp, that'swonderful! That's it!" The details took form in his mind even as hecalled orders. "Dominico, tear down that bomb. Santos, remove two headsfrom your rockets and wire them to explode on electrical impulse. Kemp,we'll want the tube just a fraction of an inch wider than a rocket head.Get your torch ready."

He took the stylus and began calculating. He talked as he worked, tellingthe Planeteers exactly what they were up against. "I'm figuring out whereto put the charge so it will do the most good, but my data isn'tcomplete. If our homemade bomb goes off, I don't know exactly how muchpower it will give. If it gives too much, we'll be driven so close to thesun we'll never get free of its gravity."

Bradshaw, the English Planeteer, said mildly, "Don't worry, Lieutenant.If it isn't the solar frying pan, it's Connie fire."

A chorus of agreement came from the other Planeteers. "What a crew!" Ripthought. "What a great gang of space pirates!"

He finished his calculations and found the exact place where Kemp wouldcut. A few feet away from the spot was a thick pyramid of thorium. Thatwould do, and they could cut into it horizontally instead of drillingstraight down. He pointed to it. "Let's have a hole straight in for sixfeet. And keep it straight, Kemp. Allow enough room for a lining ofnuclite. Koa, cut a sheet of nuclite to size."

Kemp's torch already was slicing into the metal. Rip asked, "Can you weldwith that thing, Kemp?"

"Good." Rip motioned to Trudeau. "Frenchy, we'll need a strong rod atleast eight feet long."

The French Planeteer hurried off. Rip consulted his chronometer. Lessthan ten minutes had passed since the call from Terra base.

He went over his plan again. It had to work! If it didn't, asteroid andPlaneteers would end up as subatomic particles in the sun's photosphere,because he had calculated his blast to drive the asteroid past the limitof safety. It was the only way he could be sure of putting them beyonddanger from Connie landing boats or snapper-boats. The Connie would haveonly one chance—to bring his cruiser down.

If he tried that, Rip thought grimly, he would get a surprise. The secondnuclear charge would be set, ready to be fired. The Connie cruiser wasso big that no matter how it pulled up to the asteroid, some part of itwould be close enough to the charge to be blown into space dust. Nocruiser could survive an atomic explosion within five hundred yards, andthe Connie would have to get closer to the nuclear charge than that.

Dominico reported that the bomb had been dismantled. Rip went to it andexamined the raw plutonium, being careful to keep the pieces widelyseparated.

This particular bomb design used five pieces of plutonium which weredriven together to form a ball. Rip made a quick estimate. Two wereenough to form a critical mass. He would use two to blast into the sunand three to blast out again. He would need the extra kick.

There was only one trouble. The pieces were wedge shaped. They would haveto be mounted in thorium in order to keep them rigid. Only Kemp could dothat. They had no cutting tool but the torch.

Santos appeared, carrying a rocket head under each arm. They had wireswound around them, ready to be attached to an electrical source.

Rip hurried back to where Kemp was at work. The private was using acutting nozzle that threw an almost invisible flame five feet long.In air, the nozzle wouldn't have worked effectively beyond two feet, butin space it cut right down to the end of the flame. Kemp had his arminside the hole and was peering past it as he finished the cut.

"Done, sir," he said, and adjusted the flame to a spout of red fire. Hethrust the torch into the hole and quickly withdrew it as pieces ofthorium flew out. A stream of water hosed into the tube would have workedthe same way.

Rip took a block of plutonium from Dominico and handed it to Kemp. "Cuta plug and fit this into it. Then cut a second plug for the other piece.They have to match perfectly, and you can't put them together to try outthe fit. If you do, we'll have fission right here in the open."

Kemp searched and found a piece he had cut in making the tube. It wasperfectly round, ideal for the purpose. He sliced off the inner sidewhere it tapered to a cone, then, working only by eye estimate, cut out ahole in which the wedge of fission material would fit. He wasn't off by athirty-second of an inch. Skillful application of the torch melted thethorium around the wedge and sealed it tightly.

Koa was ready with a sheet of nuclite. Trudeau arrived with a pole madeby lashing two crate sticks together.

Rip gave directions as they formed a cylinder of nuclite. Kempspot-welded it, and they pushed it into the hole.

Nunez found a small piece of material in one of the earlier craters. Itwould provide some neutrons to start the chain reaction. Rip added it tothe front of the plutonium wedge, along with a piece of beryllium fromthe bomb, and Kemp welded it in place.

They put the thorium block which contained the plutonium into the hole,the plutonium facing outward. Trudeau rammed it to the bottom with hispole. The neutron source, the neutron reflector, and one piece offissionable material were in place.

Kemp sliced another round block of thorium out of a nearby crystal andfitted the second wedge of plutonium into it. At first Rip had worriedabout the two pieces of plutonium making a good enough contact, butKemp's skillful hand and precision eye removed that worry.

The torchman finished fitting the plutonium and carried the block to thetube opening. He tried it, removed a slight irregularity with his torch,then said quietly, "Finished, sir."

Rip took over. He slid the thorium-plutonium block into the tube, took arocket head from Santos, and used it to push the block in farther. Whenthe rocket head was about four inches inside the tube, its wires trailingout, Rip called Kemp. At his direction, the torchman sliced a thin slotup the face of the crystal. Rip fitted the wires into it and held them inplace with a small wedge of thorium.

Kemp cut a plug, fitted it into the hole, and welded the seams closed.The tube was sealed. When electric current fired the rocket head, thethorium carrying the plutonium wedge would be driven forward to meet thewedge in the back. And, unless Rip had miscalculated the mass of the twopieces, they would have their nuclear blast. Rip surveyed the crystalwith some anxiety. It looked right.

Dominico already had rigged the timer from the atomic bomb. He connectedthe wires. "Do I set it, sir?"

"Load the communicator, the extra bomb parts, the rocket launcher androckets, the cutting equipment, my instruments, and the tubes of fuel,"Rip ordered. "Leave everything else in the cave."

The Planeteers ran to obey. Rip waited until the landing boat was nearlyloaded, then told Dominico to set the timer for five minutes. He wonderedhow they would explode the second charge, since they had only the onetimer left, then forgot about it. Time enough to worry when faced withthe problem.

"I'll take the snapper-boat," he stated. "Santos in the gunner's seat.Koa in charge in the landing boat. Dowst pilot. Let's show an exhaust."

He fitted himself into the tight pilot seat of the snapper-boat whileSantos climbed in behind. Then, handling the controls with the skillof long practice, he lifted the tiny fighting rocket above the asteroidand waited for the landing boat. When it joined up, Rip led the way tosafety. As he cut his exhaust to wait for the explosion, he sighted pastthe snapper-boat's nose to the asteroid.

Even though both boats had been careful to match velocity with theasteroid as closely as possible, the slight difference remaining causedthem to drift sunward. Rip cut his jets in to compensate, and saw Dowstdo the same.

Another few miles toward the sun, and the landing boat wouldn't have thepower to get away from Sol's gravity. A few miles beyond that, even thepowerful little snapper-boat would be caught.

Below, the timer reached zero. A mighty fan of fire shot into space. Theasteroid shuddered from the blast, then swerved gradually, picking upspeed as well as new direction.

Rip swallowed hard. Now they were committed. They would reach a newperihelion far beyond the limits of safety.P for perihelion andP forperil. In this case, they were the same thing!

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Between Two Fires

Back on the asteroid, the Planeteers started laying the second atomiccharge. Rip selected the spot, found a nearby crystal that would serve tohouse the bomb, and Kemp started cutting.

The Planeteers knew what to do now, and the work went rapidly. Rip keptan eye on his chronometer. According to the message from Terra base, hehad about fifteen minutes before the Consops cruiser arrived.

"We have one advantage we didn't have back in the asteroid belt," heremarked to Koa. "Back there they could have landed anywhere on therock. Now they have to stick to the dark side. Snapper-boats could laston the sun side, but men in ordinary space suits couldn't."

"That's good," Koa agreed. "We have only one side to defend. Why don't weput the rocket launcher right in the middle of the dark side?"

"Go ahead. And have all men check their pistols and knives. We don't knowwhat's likely to happen when that Connie flames in."

Rip walked over to the communicator and plugged his suit into thecircuit. "This is the asteroid calling Terra base. Over."

"If you need anything cooked, send it to us," Rip replied. "We have heatenough to cook anything, including tungsten alloy." He explained brieflywhat action they had taken.

Rip responded swiftly, "Yes, sir!" Stevens was the top Planeteer,commanding officer of all the Special Order Squadrons.

"We've piped this circuit into every channel in the system," the colonelsaid. "Every Planeteer in the Squadrons is listening and rooting for you.Is there anything we can do?"

"Yes, sir," Rip replied. "Do you know if Terra base has been plotting ourcourse this far?"

There was a brief silence, then the colonel answered, "Yes, Foster. Wehave a complete track from the time you started showing on the Terrascreens, about halfway between the orbits of Mars and Earth."

"Then, sir, I'd appreciate it if you'd put the calculators to work andmake a time-distance plot for the next few hours. The blast we're savingto push to escape velocity is about three kilotons. Let us know the lastmoment when we can fire."

Rip disconnected and turned up his helmet communicator, repeating theconversation to his men. Koa came and stood beside him. "Lieutenant,how do we set off this next charge?"

There was only one way. When the time came to blast, they would be tooclose to the sun to take to the boats. The blast had to be set offfrom the asteroid.

"We'll get underground as far away from the bomb as we can," Rip said. Hesurveyed the dark side, which was rapidly growing less dark. "I think thesecond crater will do. Kemp can square it off on the side toward theblast to give us a vertical wall to hide behind."

Rip grinned mirthlessly. "Radiation is the least of our problems. I'drather get an overdose of gamma then get blasted into space."

Rip looked up, startled. The Consops cruiser passed directly overhead,about ten miles away. It was decelerating rapidly. Rip wondered why theyhadn't spotted it earlier, then realized the Connie had come from thedirection of the hot side.

The enemy cruiser was probably the same one that had attacked thembefore. He must have lain in wait for days, keeping between the sunand Terra. That way, the screens wouldn't pick him up, since very fewobservatories scanned the sun with regularity. To the observatories,the cruiser would have been only a tiny speck, too small to be noticed.Or, if they had noticed it, the astronomers probably decided it was justa very tiny sunspot.

The Planeteers worked with increased speed. Kemp welded the final pluginto place, then hurried to the crater from which they would set offthe charge. Dominico and Dowst connected wires from the rocket head toa reel of wire and rolled it toward the crater. Nunez got a hand-drivendynamo from the supplies and tested it for use in setting off the charge.Santos stood by the rocket launcher, with Pederson ready to put anotherrack of rockets into the device when necessary.

Rip and Koa watched the Connie cruiser. It decelerated to a stop for abrief second, then started moving again, with no jets showing.

The Consops commander didn't wait to trim ship against the sun's drag.His air locks opened, clearly visible to Rip and Koa because that side ofthe cruiser was brilliant with sunlight. Ten snapper-boats sped forth.Rip was certain now that this was the enemy cruiser they had fought offback in the asteroid belt. Two Connie snapper-boats had been destroyed inthat clash, which explained why the commander was sending out only tenboats instead of a full quota of twelve.

The squadron instantly formed a V, like a strange space letter made up ofglobes. The sun's gravity pulled at them, dragging them off course. Ripwatched as flames poured from their stern tubes. They were firing fullspeed ahead, but the drag of the sun distorted their line of flight intoa great arc.

Rip saw the strategy instantly. The Connie commander knew the situationexactly, and he was staking everything on one great gamble, sending hissnapper-boats to land on the asteroid—to crash-land if necessary.

The asteroid was so close to the sun that even the powerful fightingrockets would use most of their fuel in simply combating its gravity.

"All hands stand by to repel Connies," Rip shouted, and he drew hispistol. He looked into the magazine, saw that the clip was full, andthen charged the weapon.

Santos was crouched over the rocket launcher, his space gloves workingrapidly as he kept the rockets pointed at the enemy.

The Planeteers formed a skirmish line which pivoted on the launcher. OnlyKemp remained at work. His torch flared, slicing through the thorium ashe prepared their firing position.

The atomic charge was ready. The wires had been laid up to the rim of thecrater in which Kemp worked, and the dynamo was attached.

Rip was everywhere, checking on the launcher, on Kemp, on the pistols ofhis men. And Santos, hunched over his illuminated sight, watched theConnie snapper-boats draw near.

The first rocket sped outward in a sweeping curve, and for a moment Ripopened his mouth to yell at Santos. The sun's gravity affected the attackrockets, too! Then he saw that the corporal had allowed for the sun'spull.

The rocket curved into the squadron of on-coming boats, and they alltried to dodge at once. Two of them met in a sideways crash, then a thirdstaggered as its stern globe flared and exploded. Santos had scored ahit!

The corporal's reply was rueful. "Sir, that wasn't the one I aimed at.The sun's pull is worse than I figured."

The damaged snapper-boat instantly blasted from its nose tubes,decelerated, and went into reverse, flipping through space crabwise as ittried to regain the safety of the cruiser. The two boats that had crashedwhile trying to dodge were blasting in great spurts of flame, followingthe example of their damaged companion.

"Seven left," Rip called, and another rocket flashed on its way. Hefollowed its trail as it curved away from the asteroid and into thesquadron. Its proximity fuse detonated in the exhaust of a Connie boat,blowing the tube out of position. The boat yawed wildly, cut its sterntubes, and blasted to a stop from the bow tube. Then it, too, startedbackward toward the cruiser. Six left!

Flame blossomed a few yards from Rip. He was picked up bodily and flunginto space, whirling end over end. Koa's voice rang in his helmet.

Rip tugged frantically at an air bottle in his belt. He pulled it out andused it to whirl him upright again; then its air blast drove him back tothe surface of the asteroid. Sweat poured from his forehead, and the suitventilator whined as it picked up the extra moisture. Great Cosmos! Thatwas close!

Santos fired again, twice, in rapid succession. The Connie snapper-boatsscattered as the proximity fuses produced flowers of fire among them. Twonear misses, but they threw the enemy off course. Rip watched tensely asthe boats fought to regain their course. He knew asteroid, cruiser, andboats were speeding toward the sun at close to fifty miles a second,and the drag was getting terrific. The Connies knew it, too.

There was an exultant yell from the Planeteers as two of the boats gaveup and turned back, using full power to regain the safety of the mothership. Four left!

Santos scored a direct hit on the nose of the nearest one, butits momentum drove it to within a few yards of the asteroid. Fivespace-suited figures erupted from it, holding hand propulsion units,tubes of rocket fuel used for hand combat in empty space.

The Connies lit their propulsion tubes and drove feet first for theasteroid. The Planeteers estimated where the enemy would land, andthey were there waiting, with aimed handguns. The Connies had their handsover their heads, holding the propulsion tubes. They took one look at thegleaming Planeteer guns, and their hands stayed upright.

The Planeteers lashed the Connies' hands behind them with their ownsafety lines and, at Rip's orders, dumped all but one of them into thecrater where Kemp was just finishing his cutting.

Three snapper-boats remained. Rip watched, holding tightly to the arm ofthe Connie he had kept at his side. The man wore the insignia of anofficer.

The remaining snapper-boats were going to make it. Santos threw rocketsamong them and scored hits, but the boats kept coming. The Connies weretoo far away from the cruiser to return, and they knew it. Getting to theasteroid was their only chance.

Rip called, "Santos! Cease fire. Set the launcher for ground level. Letthem land, but don't fire until I give the word."

He put his helmet against his prisoner's for direct communication. "Youspeak English?"

"Good. We're going to let your friends land. As soon as they do, I wantyou to yell to them. Say we have assault rockets trained on them. Tellthem to surrender, or they'll be killed in their tracks. Got that?"

Rip put his space knife against the man's stomach. "Then we'll get themwith rockets. But you won't care, because you won't know it."

The truth was that Santos couldn't hope to get them all with his rockets.They might overcome the Connies in hand-to-hand fighting, but there wouldbe a cost to pay in Planeteer casualties. Rip hoped the Connie wouldn'tcall his bluff, because that's all it was. He couldn't use a space knifeon an unarmed prisoner.

The Connie didn't know that. In Rip's place he would have no compunctionsabout using the knife, so instead of calling Rip's bluff, he agreed.

The snapper-boats blew their front tubes, decelerating, and squashed downto the asteroid in a roar of exhaust flames, sending the Planeteersrunning out of the way. Rip thrust harder with his space knife andyelled, "Tell them!"

Rip turned it on full, and the Connie barked quick instructions. Theexhausts died, and five men filed out of each boat, with hands held high.Rip blew a drop of perspiration from the tip of his nose. Empty space!It was a good thing Connie morale was bad. The enemy's willingness tosurrender had saved them a costly fight.

The Planeteers rounded up the prisoners and secured them, while Rip tookan anxious look at the communicator. It was about time he heard fromTerra base.

The light was glowing. For all he knew, it might have been glowing formany minutes. He plugged into the circuit.

"Terra base to Foster. Listen. You will reach optimum position on thetime-distance curve at twenty-three-oh-six."

"Got it. We will reach optimum position at twenty-three-oh-six." Helooked at his chronometer, and his pulse stopped. It was 22:58! Theyhad just eight minutes before the sun caught them forever, atomic blastor no!

And the Connie cruiser was still overhead, with no friendly cruisers insight. He looked up, white-faced. Not only was the Connie still there,but its main air lock was sliding open to disclose a new danger.

In the opening, ready to launch, an assault boat waited. The assaultboats were something only the Connies used. They were about four timesthe size of a snapper-boat, less maneuverable but more powerful. Theycarried twenty men and a pair of guided missiles with atomic warheads!

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The Rocketeers

Rip ran for the snapper-boat, feet moving as rapidly as lack of gravitywould permit. He called instructions. "Santos! Turn the launcher over toPederson and come with me. Koa, take over. Start throwing rockets at thatboat, and don't stop until you run out of ammunition."

He reached the snapper-boat and squeezed in, Santos close behind him. Ashe strapped himself into the seat he called, "Koa! Get this, and get itstraight. At twenty-three-oh-five, fire the bomb. Fire it whether I'mback or not."

That would give the Planeteers a minute's leeway. Not much of a safetymargin, especially when he wasn't sure how much power the atomic chargewould produce.

He braced himself against acceleration and flipped the speed control tofull power. The fighting rocket rammed out from the asteroid, snappinghim back against the seat. He made a quick check. Gunsight on, fuel tanksalmost full, propulsion tubes racked handy to his hand.

They drove toward the enemy cruiser at top speed, swerving in a great arcas the sun pulled at them. The enemy's big boat was out of the ship, itsjets firing.

Rip leaned over his illuminated gunsight. The boat showed up clearly, therings of the sight framing it. He estimated distance and the pull of thesun, then squeezed the trigger on the speed control handle. The cannon upin the nose spat fire. He watched tensely and saw the charge explode onthe hull of the Connie cruiser. He had underestimated the sun's drag. Hecompensated and tried again.

He missed. Now that he was closer and the charge had less distance totravel, he had overestimated the sun's effect. He gritted his teeth.The next shot would be at close range.

The fighting rocket closed space, and the landing boat loomed large inthe sight. He fired again, and the shot blew metal loose from the top ofthe boat's hull. A hit, but not good enough. He leaned over the sight tofire again, but before he had sighted, an explosion blew the assault boatcompletely around.

The big boat fired its side jets and spun around on course again. Flamebloomed from its side as Connie gunners tried to get the range on thesnapper-boat.

Rip was within reach now. He fired at point-blank range and flashed overthe boat as its front end exploded. Santos, firing from the rear, hit itagain.

Rip threw the rocket into a turn that rammed him against the top of hisharness. He steadied on a line with the crippled Connie craft. It washard hit. The bow jets flickered fitfully, and the stern tubes were dead.He sighted, fired. A charge hit the boat aft and blew its stern tubes offcompletely.

Space blew up in Rip's face. The snapper-boat slewed wildly as the Connieshot took effect. Rip worked his controls frantically, trying tostraighten the rocket out more by instinct than anything else.

His eyes recovered from the blinding flash, and he gulped as he saw theraw, twisted metal where the boat's nose had been. He managed to correctthe boat's twisting by using the stern tubes, but he lost full control ofthe ship.

For a moment panic gripped him. Without full control he couldn't get backto the asteroid! Then he forced himself to calm down. He sized up thesituation. They were still underway, the stern tubes pushing, but theirtrajectory would take them right under the crippled Connie boat.

There was nothing he could do but pass close to the Connie. The enemygunners would fire, but he had to take his chances. He looked down at theasteroid and saw an orange trail as Koa launched another rocket.

The shot from the asteroid ticked the bottom of the Connie boat andexploded. The Connie rolled violently. Tubes flared as the pilot foughtto correct the roll. He slowed the spinning as Rip and Santos passed,just long enough for a Connie gunner to get in a final shot.

The shell struck directly under Rip. He felt himself pushed violentlyupward, and, at the same moment, he reacted—by hunch and not by reason.He rammed the controls full ahead, and the dying rocket cut space,curving slowly as flaming fuel spurted from the ruptured tanks.

When the main mass of fuel caught, the rocket would become an inferno.Rip smashed at the escape hatch above his head, grabbed propulsion tubesfrom the rack, and called, "Now!"

He pulled the release on his harness, stood up on the seat, and thrustwith all his leg power. He catapulted out of the burning snapper-boatinto space.

Santos followed a second later, and the crippled rocket twisted wildlyunder the two Planeteers.

"Don't use the propulsion tubes," Rip called. "Slow down with your airbottles." He thrust the tubes into his belt, found his air bottles, andpointed two of them in the direction they had been traveling. He wantedto come to a stop, to let the wild snapper-boat get away from them.

The compressed-air bottles did the trick. He and Santos slowed down asthe little jets overcame the inertia that was taking them along with theburning boat. The boat was spiraling now, burning freely. It moved awayfrom them, its stern jets still firing weakly.

Rip took a look toward the enemy cruiser. The assault boat was no longershowing an exhaust. Instead, it was being dragged rapidly away from theConnie cruiser by the pull of the sun. At least it was hit in time toprevent launching of the atomic guided missiles. Or, he thought, perhapsthe enemy had never intended using them. The principal effect, besideskilling the Planeteers, would have been to drive the asteroid into thesun at an even faster rate.

The enemy assault boat was no longer a menace. Its occupants would belucky if they succeeded in saving their own lives.

Rip wondered what the Connie cruiser commander would try now. Only onething remained, and that was to set the cruiser down on the asteroid.If the Connie tried, he would arrive at just about the time set forreleasing the nuclear charge. And that would be the end of thecruiser—and probably of the Planeteers as well.

Rip had been so busy sizing up the situation that he hadn't thought abouthis own predicament. Now he looked down and suddenly realized that he wasfloating free in space, a considerable distance above the asteroid, andwith only small propulsion tubes for power.

The corporal asked, still in a calm voice, "How long will it be beforewe're dragged into the sun, sir?"

Rip stared. Santos had used the same tone he might have used in askingfor a piece of Venusianchru. An officer couldn't be less calm, soRip replied in a voice he hoped was casual, "I wouldn't worry, Santos. Wewon't know it. The heat will get through our suits long before then."

In fact, the heat should be overloading their ventilating systemsright now. In a few minutes the cooling elements would break down, andthat would be the end. He listened for the accelerated whine as theventilating systems struggled under the increased heat load but heardnothing.

Funny. Had it overloaded and given out already? No, that was impossible.He would be feeling the heat on his body if that were the case.

He looked for an explanation and realized for the first time that theyweren't in the sunlight at all. They were in darkness. His searchingglance told him they were in the cone of shadow stretching out frombehind the asteroid. The thorium rock was between them and the sun!

His lips moved soundlessly. Maj. Joe Barris had been right.In a jam,trust your hunch. He had acted instinctively, not even thinking as heused the last full power of the stern tubes to throw them into the shadowcone.

And he knew in the same moment that it could save their lives. The sun'spull would only accelerate their fall toward the asteroid. He saidexultantly, "We're staying out of high vac, Santos. Light off apropulsion tube. Let's get back to the asteroid."

He pulled a tube from his belt, held it above his head, and thumbed thestriker mechanism. The tube flared, pushing downward on his hand.

Santos was only a few seconds behind him. Rip saw the corporal's tubeflare and knew that everything was all right, at least for the moment,even though the asteroid was still a long way down.

He looked upward at the Connie cruiser and saw that it was moving. Itsexhaust increased in length and deepened slightly in color as Ripwatched.

Then he saw side jets flare out from the projecting control tubes andknew the ship was maneuvering. Rip realized suddenly that the cruiser wasgoing to pick up the crippled assault boat.

He hadn't expected such a humane move, after his first meeting with theConnie cruiser when the commander had been willing to sacrifice his ownmen. This time, however, there was a difference, he saw. The commanderwould lose nothing by picking up the assault boat, and he would save afew men. Rip supposed that manpower meant something, even to Consops.

His propulsion tube reachedBrennschluss, and for a few moments hewatched, checking his speed and direction. Then, before he lit offanother tube, he checked his chronometer. The illuminated dial registered23:01. They had just four minutes to get to the asteroid!

He spoke swiftly. "Waste no time in lighting off, Santos. That nuclearcharge goes in four minutes!"

Rip pulled a tube from his belt, held it overhead, and triggered it. Hisflight through space speeded up, but he wasn't at all sure they wouldmake it. He turned up his helmet communicator to full power and called,"Koa, can you hear me?"

The sergeant major's reply was faint in his helmet. "I hear you weakly.Do you hear me?"

"Same way," Rip replied. "Get this, Koa. Don't fail to explode thatcharge at twenty-three-oh-five. Can you see us?"

The reply was very slightly stronger. "I will explode the charge asordered, Lieutenant. We can see a pair of rocket exhausts, but no boats.Is that you?"

Koa waited for a long moment, then asked, "Sir, what if you're not withus by twenty-three-oh-five?"

Of course Koa knew. The nuclear blast would send Rip and Santos spinninginto outer space, perhaps crippled, burned, or completely irradiated.But the lives of two men couldn't delay the blast that would save thelives of eight others, not counting prisoners.

Rip estimated his speed and course and the distance to the asteroid. Hewas increasingly sure that they wouldn't make it, and the knowledge waslike the cold of space in his stomach. It would be close but not closeenough. A minute would make all the difference.

For a few heartbeats he almost called Koa and told him to wait that extraminute, to explode the nuclear charge at 23:06, at the very last second.But even Planeteer chronometers could be off by a few seconds, and hecouldn't risk it. His men had to be given some leeway.

He surveyed the asteroid. The nuclear charge was on his left side, prettyclose to the sun line. At least he and Santos could angle to the right,to get as far away as possible.

The edge of the asteroid's shadow was barely visible. That it was visibleat all was due to the minute particles of matter and gas that surroundedthe sun, even millions of miles out into space. He reduced helmet powerand told Santos, "Angle to the right. Get as close to the edge of shadowas you can without being cooked."

Rip didn't know yet what use they would be, but it was always a good ideato have some kind of reserve.

The Connie cruiser was sliding up to the crippled assault boat. Rip tooka quick look, then shifted his hands and angled toward the edge ofshadow. When he was within a few feet, he reversed the direction of thetube to keep from shooting out into the sunlight. A second or two laterthe tube burned out.

Santos was several yards away and slightly above him. Rip saw that thePlaneteer was all right and turned his attention back to the cruiser. Itwas close enough to the assault boat to haul it in with grappling hooks.The hooks emerged and engaged the torn metal of the boat, then drew itinto the waiting port. The massive air door slid closed.

The question was, would the Connie try to set his ship down on theasteroid? Rip grinned without mirth. Now would be a fine time. Hischronometer showed a minute and a half to blast time.

He took another look at his own situation. He and Santos were gettingclose to the asteroid, but there was still over a half mile of Earthdistance to go. They would cover perhaps three-fourths of that distancebefore Koa fired the charge.

He had a daring idea. How long could he and Santos last in directsunlight? The effect of the sun in the open was powerful enough tomake lead run like water. Their suits could absorb some heat, and theventilating system could take care of quite a lot. They might lastas much as three minutes, with luck.

They had to take a risk with the full knowledge that the odds wereagainst them. But if they didn't take the risk, the blast would pushthem outward from the asteroid—into full sunlight. The end result wouldbe the same.

Rip thought anyone with that much coolness and sheer nerve rated somekind of special treatment. And the young corporal had shown his abilitytime and time again. He said, "I should have known you knew,SergeantSantos. We still have a slight chance. When I give the word, use an airbottle to push yourself into the sunlight. When I give the word again,light off your remaining tube."

"Yessir," Santos replied. "Thank you for the promotion. I hope I live tocollect the extra rating."

"Same here," Rip agreed fervently. His eyes were on his chronometer, andwith his free hand he took another air bottle. When the chronometerregistered exactly one minute before blast time, he called, "Now!" Hetriggered the bottle and moved from shadow into glaring sunlight. Aslight motion of the bottle turned him so his back was to the sun; thenhe used the remaining compressed air to push himself downward along theedge of shadow. The sun's gravity tugged at him.

He pulled the last tube from his belt and held it ready while he watchedhis chronometer creep around. With five seconds to go, he called toSantos and fired it. Acceleration pushed at him.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Ride the Planet!

A mighty hand reached out and shoved Rip, sweeping him through space likea dust mote. He clutched his propulsion tube with both hands and foughtto hold it steady. He swiveled his head quickly, searching for Santos,and saw the corporal a dozen rods away.

From the far horizon of the asteroid the incandescent fire of the nuclearblast stretched into space, turning from silver to orange to red as itcooled.

Rip knew they had escaped the heat and blast of the explosion, but nowthere was a question of how much prompt radiation they had absorbed.During the first few seconds, a nuclear blast sprayed gamma radiation andneutrons in all directions. He and Santos certainly had gotten plenty.But how much? His lower-level colorimeter had long since reached maximumred, and his high-level dosimeter could be read only on a measuringdevice.

Meanwhile, he had other worries. Radiation had no immediate effect. Atworst, it would be a few hours before he felt any symptoms.

As he sized up his position and that of the asteroid, he let out a yellof triumph. His gamble would succeed! He had estimated that going intothe direct gravity pull of the sun at the proper moment and lighting offtheir last tubes would put them into a landing position. The asteroid wasmoving rapidly, into a new orbit that would intersect the course he andSantos were on. He had planned on the asteroid's change of orbit. In aminute at most they would be back on the rock.

His propulsion tube flared out, and he released it. It would travel alongwith him, but his hands would be free.

He reacted instantly. Turning up his communicator he yelled, "Koa! Therock is spinning! Cut the prisoners loose, grab the equipment, and runfor it! You'll have to keep running to stay in the shadow. If sunlighthits those fuel tanks or the rocket tubes, they'll explode!"

At least the Connie cruiser couldn't harm them now, Rip thought grimly.He looked for the cruiser and failed to find it for several seconds. Ithad moved. He finally saw its exhausts some distance away.

He forgot his own predicament and grinned. The Connie cruiser had moved,but not because its commander had wanted to. It had been right in thepath of the nuclear blast and had been literally shoved away.

Then Rip forgot the cruiser. His suit ventilator was whining in theterrific heat, and his whole body was now bathed in perspiration. The sunwas getting them. It would be only a short time until the ventilatoroverloaded and burned out. They had to reach the asteroid before then.The trouble was that there was nothing further he could do about it. Hehad only air bottles left, and their blast was so weak that the effectwouldn't speed him up much. Nevertheless, he called to Santos anddirected him to use his bottles.

In the same instant, Rip saw that they would land on the dark side. Theasteroid was turning over and over. For a second he had the impressionthat he was looking at a turning globe of the earth, the kind used inelementary school back home. But this gray planet was scarcely biggerthan the giant globe at the Space Council building on Terra.

He knew he was going to hit hard. The way to keep from being hurt was toturn the vertical energy of his arrival into motion in another direction.As he swept down to the metal surface he started running, his legspumping wildly in space. He hit with a bone-jarring thud, lost hisfooting and fell sideways, both hands cradling his helmet. He got to hisfeet instantly and looked for Santos.

"You all right, sir?" Santos called anxiously. "I think the others areover there." He pointed.

"We'll find them," Rip said. His hip hurt like fury from smashing againstthe unyielding metal, and the worst part was that he couldn't rub it. Theblow had been strong enough to hurt through the heavy fabric and airpressure, but his hand wasn't strong enough to compress the suit. Justthe same, he tried.

He had forgotten to run. Standing still on the asteroid meant turningwith it, from darkness into sunlight and back again. He yelled at Santosand legged it out of there, moving in long, gliding steps. He regainedthe shadow and kept going.

The first order of business was to stop the rock from turning. Otherwisethey couldn't live on it.

Rip knew that they had only one means of stopping the spin. That was touse the tubes of rocket fuel left over from correcting the course. Theyhad three tubes left, but he didn't know if that was enough to do thejob.

The Connie prisoners were pretty well bunched up, gliding along like aherd of fantastic sheep. Their shepherds were Pederson, Nunez, and Dowst.The three Planeteers had a pistol in each hand. The spares were probablythose taken from prisoners.

The Planeteers were loaded down with equipment. A few Connie prisonerscarried equipment, too.

Trudeau had the rocket launcher and the remaining rockets. Kemp had historch and two tanks of oxygen. Bradshaw had tied his safety line to thesquat containers of chemical fuel for the torch and was towing thembehind like strange balloons. The only trouble with that system, Ripthought, was that Bradshaw could stop, but the fuel would have a tendencyto keep going. Unless the Englishman was skillful, his burden would draghim off his feet.

Dominico had a tube of rocket fuel under each arm. The Italian was small,and the tubes were bulky. Each was about ten feet long and two feet indiameter. With any gravity or air resistance at all, the Italian couldn'thave carried even one.

Santos took the radiation detection instruments and the case with theastrogation equipment from Koa. Rip greeted his men briefly, then tookhis computing board and began figuring. He knew the men were glad he andSantos had made it. But they kept their greetings short. A spinningasteroid was no place for long and sentimental speeches.

He remembered the dimensions of the asteroid and its mass. He computedits inertia, then figured out what it would take to overcome the inertiaof the spin.

The mathematics would have been simpler under normal conditions, butdoing them on the run, trying to watch his step at the same time, madethings a little complicated. He had to hold the board under his arm, runalongside Santos while the new sergeant held the case open, select thebook he wanted, open it and try to read the tables by his belt light, andthen transfer the data to the board.

His ventilator had quieted down once he got into the darkness, but now itstarted whining slightly again because he was sweating profusely. Finallyhe figured out the thrust needed to stop the spin. Now all he had to dowas compute how much fuel it would take.

He had figures on the amount of thrust given by the kind of rocket fuelin the tubes. He also knew how much fuel each tube contained. But thefigures were not in his head. They were on reference sheets.

He collected the data on the fly, slowing down now and then to readsomething, until a yell from Santos or Koa warned that the sun line wascreeping close. When he had all data noted on the board, he started hismathematics. He was right in the middle of a laborious equation when hestumbled over a thorium crystal. He went headlong, shooting like a rocketthree feet above the ground. His board flew away at a tangent. His stylussped out of his glove like a miniature projectile, and the slide ruleclanged against his bubble.

It happened so fast that neither Koa nor Santos had time to grab him. Theaction had given him extra speed, and he saw with horror that he wasgoing to crash into Trudeau. He yelled, "Frenchy! Watch out!" Then he putboth hands before him to protect his helmet. His hands caught the FrenchPlaneteer between the shoulders.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Visitors!

Trudeau held tight to the launcher, but the rocket racks opened andspilled attack rockets into space. They flew in a dozen differentdirections. Trudeau gave vent to his feelings in colorful French.

Koa and Santos laughed so hard they had trouble collecting the scatteredequipment. Rip, slowed by his crash with Trudeau, got his feet under himagain.

When the asteroid turned into the sun, they still had not collected Rip'sstylus and five of the attack rockets. The space pencil was the onlything that could write on the computing board. It had to be found. "Nexttime around," Rip called to the others. He then led the way full speedahead until they reached the safety of shadow again.

Rip suspected the stylus was somewhere above the rock and probablywouldn't return to the surface for some minutes. While he was wonderingwhat to do, there was a chorus of yells. A rocket sped between thePlaneteers and shot off into space.

"Our own rockets are after us," Trudeau gasped. There hadn't been timeto collect them all after Rip's unwilling attack on the Frenchman hadscattered them. Now the sun was setting them off. Another flashed past,fortunately over their heads. The sun's heat was causing them to fireunevenly.

Santos had been fishing around in the instrument case. Suddenly heproduced another stylus. "It was under the sextant," he explainedtriumphantly.

"If we get through this, I'll propose you for ten more stripes," Ripvowed. "We'll make you the highest ranking sergeant that ever made aprivate's life miserable."

Working slowly but more safely, Rip figured that slightly more than twoand a half tubes would do the trick.

Now to fire them. That meant finding a thorium crystal properly placedand big enough. There were plenty of crystals, so that was no problem.The next step was for Kemp to cut holes with his torch, so that thethrust of the rocket fuel would be counter to the direction in which theasteroid was spinning.

Rip explained to all hands what had to be done. The burden would fall onKemp, who would need a helper. Rip took that job himself. He took oneoxygen tank from Kemp. Koa took the other, leaving the torchman with onlyhis torch.

Then Rip took a container of chemical fuel from Bradshaw. Working whilerunning, he lashed the two containers together with his safety line. Thenhe improvised a rope sling so they could hang on his back.

Kemp, meanwhile, assembled his torch and put the proper cutting nozzle inplace. When he was ready, he moved over to Rip's side and connected thetorch hoses to the tanks the lieutenant carried. Kemp had the torchmechanism strapped to his own back. It was essentially a high-pressurepump that drew oxygen and fuel from the tanks and forced them throughthe nozzle, under terrific pressure.

When he had finished, he pressed the trigger that started the cuttingtorch going. The fuel ignited about a half inch in front of the nozzle.The nozzle had two holes in it, one for oxygen and the other for fuel.The holes were placed and angled to keep the flame always a half inchaway, otherwise the nozzle itself would melt.

"We'll get ahead of the others," Rip explained. "Keep up speed untilwe're running at the forward sun line. Then, when the crystal we wantcomes around into the shadow, we stop running and work until it spinsback into the sunshine again."

Rip estimated the axis on which the asteroid was spinning and selecteda crystal in the right position. He had to be careful, otherwise theircounterblast might do nothing more than start the gray planet wobbling.

He and Kemp ran ahead of the others. The Planeteers and their prisonerswere running at a speed that kept them right in the middle of the darkarea.

It was like running on a treadmill. The Planeteers were making goodspeed, but were actually staying in the same place relative to the sun'sposition, keeping the turning asteroid between them and the sun.

Rip and Kemp ran forward until they were right at the sun line. Then theyslowed down, holding position and waiting for the crystal they had chosento reach them. As it came across the sun line into darkness, they stoppedrunning and rode the crystal through the shadow until it reached the sunagain. Then the two Planeteers ran back across the dark zone to meet thecrystal as it came around again. There was only a few minutes' workingtime each revolution.

Kemp worked fast, and the first hole deepened. Rip helped as best hecould by pushing away the chunks of thorium that Kemp cut free, but itwas essentially a one-man job.

As Kemp neared the bottom of the first hole, Rip reviewed his plan andrealized he had overlooked something. These weren't nuclear bombs; theywere simple tubes of chemical fuel. The tubes wouldn't destroy the holeKemp was cutting.

He reached a quick decision and called Koa to join them. Koa appeared asKemp pulled his torch from the hole and started running again to avoidthe sun. Rip and Koa ran right along with him, crossing the dark zone tomeet the crystal as it came around again.

"There's no reason to drill three holes," Rip explained as they ran."We'll use one hole for all three charges. They don't have to be firedall at once."

Speaking of the Connies—Rip hadn't seen the Consops cruiser recently. Helooked up, searching for its exhaust, and finally found it, some distanceaway.

The Connie commander was stalemated for the time being. He couldn't landhis cruiser on a spinning asteroid, and he had no more boats. Rip thoughthe probably was just waiting around for any opportunity that mightpresent itself.

The Federation cruisers should be arriving. He studied his chronometer.No, the nearest one, theSagittarius from Mercury, wasn't due foranother ten minutes or so. He turned up his helmet communicator andordered all hands to watch for the exhaust of a nuclear drive cruiser,then turned it down again and gave Koa instructions.

"Have Trudeau turn his load over to a Connie and collect the igniters andthe dynamo. We'll need wire, too. Who has that?"

"Get a reel. Cut off a few hundred feet and connect the dynamo to one endand an igniter to the other."

The crystal came around again, and Kemp got to work. Rip stood by, againreviewing all steps. They couldn't afford to make a mistake. He had nomargin for error.

Kemp finished the hole a few seconds before the crystal turned into thesunlight again. Rip told him to keep the torch going. There might be somelast minute cutting to do. Then the lieutenant hurried off at an angle towhere Dominico was plodding along with the fuel tubes.

Koa had turned the tube he carried over to a Connie. Rip got it and toldDominico to follow him. Then he angled back across the asteroid to whereKemp was holding position.

The asteroid turned twice before Koa arrived. He had a coil of wire slungover his arm, and he carried the dynamo in one hand and an igniter in theother, the two connected by the wire.

Rip took the igniter. "Uncoil the wire," he directed. "Go to its fulllength at right angles to the hole. We have to time this exactly right.When the crystal comes around again, I'll shove the tube into the hole,then scurry for cover. When I'm clear I'll yell, and you pump the dynamo.Dominico and Kemp stay with Koa. Make sure no one is in the way of theblast."

Koa unreeled the wire, moving away from Rip. The lieutenant pushed theigniter into one end of the fuel tube and crimped it tightly with hisgloved hand.

Koa and the others were as far away as they could get now, the wirestretching between them and Rip. Kemp had made sure no one was runningnear the line of blast.

Rip watched for the crystal. It would be coming around any second now. Heheld the tube with the igniter projecting behind him, ready for the holeto appear.

The crystal appeared across the sun line and moved toward him. He met it,slowed his speed, put the end of the tube into the hole, and shoved. Kemphad allowed enough clearance. The tube slid into place. Rip turned andangled off as fast as he could glide. When he was far enough away fromthe blast line he called, "Fire!"

Koa squeezed the dynamo handle. The machine whined, and current shotthrough the wire. A column of orange fire spurted from the crystal.

Rip watched the stars instead of the exhaust. He kept running as itburned soundlessly. In air, the noise would have deafened him. In airlessspace, there was nothing to carry the sound.

The apparent motion of the stars was definitely slowing. The spinningwouldn't cease entirely, but it would slow down enough to give them moretime to work.

The tube reachedBrennschluss, and Rip called orders. "Same process.Get ready to repeat."

While Koa was connecting another igniter to the wire, Rip took a tubefrom Dominico. "Take your space knife and saw through the tube you haveleft. We'll need about three-fifths of it. Keep both pieces."

Dominico pulled his knife, pressed the release, and the gas capsule shotthe blade out. He got to work.

Koa called that he was ready. Rip took the wired igniter from him andthrust it into the tube Dominico had given him.

As the crystal came around again, the process was repeated. The hole wasundamaged.

There was more time to get clear because of the asteroid's slower speed.The second tube slowed the rock even more, so that they had to wait longminutes while the crystal came around again.

Rip did some estimating. He wanted to be sure the next charge would donothing more than slow the asteroid to a stop. If the charge were tooheavy, it would reverse the spin. He didn't want to make a career ofrunning on the asteroid. He was tired, and he knew his men were gettingweary, too. He could see it in their strides.

He decided it would be best to use a little less fuel rather than alittle more. If the asteroid failed to stop its spin completely, theycould always set off a small charge or two.

"Hold it," he ordered. "We'll use the small end of Dominico's tube andsave the big one."

The fuel was a solid mass, so cutting the tube in two sections caused nodifficulty. Rip pushed the igniter into the small section, seated it inthe hole, and hurried to cover. As he watched the fuel burn, he wonderedwhy the last nuclear charge had started the spin. He had made a mistakesomewhere. The earlier blasts had been set so they wouldn't cause a spin.He made a mental note to look at the place where the charge had exploded.

The rocket fuel slowed the asteroid down to a point where it was barelyturning, and Rip was glad he had been cautious. The heavier charge wouldhave reversed it a little. He directed the placing of a very small chargeand was moving away from it so Koa could set it off when Santos suddenlyyelled, "Sir! The Connie is coming!"

Rip called, "Fire the charge, Koa," then looked up. The Consops cruiserwas moving slowly toward them. The canny Connie had been waiting forsomething to happen on the asteroid, Rip guessed. When the spinningslowed and then stopped, the Connie probably had decided that now wasthe time for a final try.

Koa found the Connie with the communicator, tested it to be sure theprisoner hadn't sabotaged it, and brought it to Rip.

Rip explained briefly what had happened and asked, "How is our orbit?I haven't had time to take sightings."

"You're free of the sun," Terra base answered. "Your orbit will have tobe corrected sometime within the next few hours. The last blast pushedyou off course."

"That's a small matter," Rip stated. "Unless we can think of somethingfast, this will be a Connie asteroid by then. The Consops cruiser ismoving in on us. He's careful, because he isn't sure of the situation.But even at his present speed he'll be here in ten minutes."

"Stand by." Terra base was silent for a few moments, then the voicereplied, "I think we have an answer for you, Foster. Terra base off.Go ahead, MacFife."

A Scottish burr thick enough to saw boards came out of the communicator."Foster, this is MacFife, commander on theAquila. Y'can't see me onaccount of I'm on yer sunny side. But, lad, I'm closer to ye than theConnie. We did it this way to keep the asteroid between us and him. Also,lad, if ye'll take a look up at Gemini, ye'll see somethin' ye'll like.Look at Alhena, in the Twins' feet. Then, lad, if ye'll be patient thewhile, ye'll have a grandstand seat for a real big show."

Rip tilted his bubble back and stared upward at the constellation of theTwins. He said softly, "By Gemini!" For there, a half degree south ofthe star Alhena, was the clean line of a nuclear cruiser's exhaust. TheSagittarius, out of Mercury, had arrived.

He cut the communicator off for a moment and spoke exultantly to his men."Stand easy, you hairy Planeteers. Forget the Connie. He doesn't know it,but he's caught. He's caught between the Archer and the Eagle!"

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Courtesy—With Claws

Sagittarius, constellation of the Archer, and Aquila, constellation ofthe Eagle, had given the two Federation patrol cruisers their names. TheEagle was commanded by a tough Scotsman, and the Archer by a Frenchman.

Commander MacFife spoke through the communicator. "Switch bands touniversal, lad. Me'n Galliene are goin' to talk this Connie into a brawmess. MacFife off."

Rip guessed that the two cruiser commanders had been in communicationwhile enroute to the asteroid and had cooked up some kind of plan. Heturned the band switch to the universal frequency with which alllong-range communicators were equipped. Each of the Earth groups had itsown frequency, and so did the Martians and Jovians. But all could meetand talk on the universal band.

Special scrambling devices prevented eavesdropping on regularfrequencies, so there was no danger that the Connie had overheard theplan. Rip wondered what it was. He knew the cruisers had to be carefulnot to cross the thin line that might lead to war.

TheSagittarius loomed closer, decelerating with a tremendous exhaust.The Connie couldn't have failed to see it, Rip knew. He was right. TheConsops cruiser suddenly blasted more heavily, rushing in the directionaway from the Federation ship. The direction was toward the asteroid.

At the same moment, theAquila flashed above the horizon, alsodecelerating. The Connie was caught squarely.

A suave voice spoke on the universal band. "This is Federation SCNSagittarius, calling the Consolidation cruiser near the asteroid.Please reply."

Rip waited anxiously. The Connie would hear, because every control roommonitored the universal band.

"This is Consolidation cruiser Sixteen. You are breaking the law,Sagittarius. Your missile ports are open, and they are pointing at me.Close them at once, or I will report this."

The suave voice, with its hint of French accent, replied, "Ah, my friend!Do not be alarmed. We have had a slight accident to our control circuit,and the ports are jammed open. We are trying to repair the situation. ButI assure you that we have only the friendliest of intentions."

Rip grinned. This was about the same as a man holding a cocked pistol atanother man's head and assuring him that it was nothing but a nervous armthat kept the gun so steady.

The two friendly cruisers were within a few miles of the Connie now, andtheir blasts were just strong enough to keep them edging closer, whilestill counteracting the sun's pull.

The French spaceman spoke reassuringly. "My friend, we want onlythe courtesy of space to which the law entitles us. We have had anunfortunate accident to our astrogation instruments, and we wish tocome aboard to compare them with yours."

Rip laughed outright. Every cruiser carried at least four sets ofinstruments. There was as much chance of all of them being knocked offscale at once as there was of his biting a cruiser in half with bareteeth.

"Never fear, lad. It won't get this one. Now, switch back to universaland listen in."

Rip did so in time to catch the Connie commander's voice. "... and Irefuse to believe such a story! Great Cosmos, do you think I am a fool?"

"Of course not," the Frenchman replied. "You are not such a fool as torefuse a simple request to check our instruments."

TheSagittarius commander was right. Rip understood the strategy.Equipment sometimes did go out of operation in space, and Connies hadno hesitation in asking Federation cruisers for help, or the other wayaround. Such help was always given, because no commander could besure when he might need help himself.

"I agree," the Connie commander said with obvious reluctance. "You maysend a boat."

MacFife's Scotch burr broke in. "Federation SCNAquila to ConsolidationSixteen. Mister, my instruments are off scale, too. I'll just send themalong to ye, and ye can check them while ye're doing theSagittarius!"

"Come, now," MacFife burred soothingly. "Checking a few instruments won'thurt ye."

A small rocket exhaust appeared, leaving theAquila. The exhaust grewrapidly, more rapidly than that of any snapper-boat. Rip watched it,while keeping his ears tuned to the space conversation.

"Surely sending boats is too much of a nuisance," the French commandersaid winningly. "We will come alongside."

"It's a trick," the Connie growled. "You want me to open my valves, andthen your men will board us and try to take over my ship!"

"My friend, you have a suspicious mind," Galliene replied smoothly. "Ifyou wish, arm your men. Ours will have no weapons. Train launchers on thevalves, so our men will be annihilated before they can board if you see asingle weapon."

This was going a little far, Rip thought, but it was not his affair, andhe didn't know exactly what MacFife and Galliene had in mind.

TheAquila's boat arrived with astonishing speed. Rip saw it flash inthe sunlight and knew he had never seen one like it before. It was aperfect globe, about twenty feet in diameter. Blast holes covered theglobe at intervals of six feet.

The boat settled to the asteroid, and a new voice called over the helmetcircuit, "Where's Foster? Show an exhaust! We're in a rush."

He hurried to the boat and stood there, bewildered. He didn't know how toget in.

"Up here," the voice called. He looked up and saw a hatch. He jumped, anda space-suited figure pulled him inside. The door shut, and the boatblasted off. Acceleration shoved him backward, but the spaceman snapped aline to his belt, then motioned him to a seat. Rip pulled himself up theline and got into the seat, snapping the harness in place.

"I'm Hawkins, senior space officer," the spaceman said. "Welcome, Foster.We've been losing weight wondering if we'd get here in time."

"I was never so glad to see spacemen in my life," Rip said truthfully."What kind of craft is this, sir?"

"Experimental," the space officer answered. "It has a number, but we callit the ball-bat because it's shaped like a ball and goes like a bat. Wewere about to take off for some test runs around the space platform whenwe got a hurry call to come here. TheAquila has two of these. If theyprove out, they'll replace the snapper-boats. More power, greatermaneuverability, heavier weapons, and they carry more men."

Rip looked out through the port and saw the two Federation cruisersclosing in on the Connie. Apparently the Connie commander had agreedto let the cruisers come alongside.

The ball-bat blasted to theAquila, paused at an open port, then slidinside. The valve was shut before Rip could unbuckle his harness. Airflooded into the chamber, and the lights flicked on. The space officergave Rip a hand out of the harness, and the young Planeteer went throughthe hatch to the deck.

The inner valve opened, and a lean, sandy-haired officer in space blue,with the insignia of a commander, stepped through. Grinning, he hurriedto Rip's side and twisted his bubble, lifting it off.

"Hurry, lad," he greeted Rip. "I'm MacFife. Get out of that suit quick,because ye don't want to miss what's aboot to happen." With his own handshe unlocked the complicated belt with its gadgets and equipment.

Rip slipped the upper part over his head and stepped out of the bottom."Thanks, Commander. I'm one grateful Planeteer, believe me!"

"Come on. We'll hurry right across ship to the opposite valve. Lad,I've a son in the Planeteers, and he's just about your own age. He'son Ganymede. He and the others will be proud of what ye've done."

MacFife was pulling himself along rapidly by the convenient handholds.Rip followed, his breathing a little rapid in the heavier air of theship. He followed the Scottish commander through the maze of passagesthat crossed the ship. They stopped at a valve where spacemen werewaiting. With them was an officer who carried a big case.

"The instruments," MacFife said, pointing. "We've tinkered with them abit, just to make it look real."

There was a slight bump as the cruiser touched the Connie. The waitinggroup recovered balance and faced the valve. Rip knew that spacemen inthe inner lock were making fast to the Connie, setting up the airtightseal.

It wasn't long before a bell sounded, and a spaceman opened the innervalve. Two men in space suits were waiting, and beyond them the outervalve was joined by a tube to the outer valve of the Connie ship. Ripstared at the Connie spacemen in their red tunics and gray trousers.One, an officer with two pistols in his belt, stepped forward.

Rip noted that the other Connies were heavy with weapons, too. None ofhis group had any.

"I'm the commander," the scowling Connie said. "Bring your instrumentsin. We'll check them; then you get out."

"Ye're no verra friendly," MacFife said, his burr even more pronounced.He led Rip and the officer with the instruments into the Connie ship.

A handsome Federation spaceman with a moustache, the first Rip had everseen, stepped into the room from a passageway on the opposite side. Thespaceman bowed with exquisite grace. "I have the honor of making myselfknown," he proclaimed. "Commander Rémy Galliene of theSagittarius."

The Connie commander grunted. He was afraid, Rip realized. The Conniesuspected a trick, and he had no idea what it might be.

Galliene saw Rip's black uniform and hurried to shake his hand. "Sothis is the young lieutenant who is responsible! Lieutenant, today thespacemen honor the Planeteers because of you. Most days we fight eachother, but today we fight together, eh? I am glad to meet you!"

"And I'm glad to meet you, sir," Rip returned. He liked the twinkle inthe Frenchman's eye. He would have given a lot to know what schemeGalliene and MacFife had cooked up.

The Connie had overheard Galliene's greeting. He glared at Rip. TheFrenchman saw the look and smiled happily. "Ah, you do not know eachother? Commander, I have the honor to make known Lieutenant Foster of theFederation Special Order Squadrons. He is in command on the asteroid."

So that was to be the Consops story! Rip thought quickly, then heldup his hand in a shocked gesture that would have done credit to theFrenchman. "Oh, no, Commander! You misunderstand. We had no way ofcommunicating by radio, so I did the only thing we could do. I firedrockets as a warning. We didn't want your boats to get caught in anuclear explosion."

He shrugged. "It was very unlucky for us that the sun threw my gunner'saim off and he hit your boats—quite by accident."

MacFife coughed to cover up a chuckle. Galliene hid a smile by strokinghis moustache.

The Connie commander growled, "And I suppose it was accident that youtook my men prisoner?"

"Prisoner?" Rip looked bewildered. "We took no prisoners. When your boatsarrived, the men asked if they might not join us. They claimed refuge,which we had to give them under interplanetary law."

"You will not," Galliene replied with equal positiveness. "The law isvery clear, my friend. Your men may return willingly, but you cannotforce them. When we reach Terra we will give them a choice. Those whowish to return to the Consolidation will be given transportation to thenearest border."

The Connie commander motioned to a heavily armed officer. "Take theirinstruments. Check them quickly." He put his lips together in a straightline and stared at the Federation men. They stared back with equalcoldness.

The minutes ticked by. Rip wondered again what kind of plan MacFife andGalliene had.

Additional minutes passed, and the officer returned with the cases.Wordlessly he handed them to Galliene and MacFife. The Connie commandersnapped, "There. Now get out of my ship."

Galliene bowed. "You have been a most courteous and gracious host,"he said. "Your conversation has been stimulating, inspiring, andinformative. Our profound thanks."

He shook hands with Rip and MacFife, bowed to the Connie commander again,and went out the way he had come. There wasn't anything to say after theFrenchman's sarcastic farewell speech. MacFife, Rip, and the officer withthe instruments went back through the valves into their own ship.

Once inside, MacFife called, "Come with me. Hurry." He led the waythrough passages and up ladders, to the very top of the ship, to thehatch where the astrogators took their star sights. The protective shieldof nuclite had been rolled back, and they could see into space throughthe clear-vision port.

Rip and MacFife hurried to the side where they were connected to theConnie. Rip looked down along the length of the ship. The valveconnection was in the middle of each ship, at the point of greatestdiameter. From that point each ship grew more slender.

MacFife pointed to the Connie's nose. Projecting from it like great hornswere the ship's steering tubes. Unlike the Federation cruiser, whichblasted steam through internal tubes that did not project, the Connieused chemical fuel.

There were similar tubes on the Connie's stern, Rip knew. He wonderedwhat they had to do with the plan.

He turned to Rip. "Remember, lad, theSagittarius is on the other sideof the Connie, about to do the same thing."

A tremor jarred its way through the entire ship, making the deck throbunder Rip's feet. He saw that the ship's nose had swung away from theConnie. What in space—

The nose swung into the Connie again, with a jar that sent Rip slidinginto the clear plastic of the astrodome. His nose jammed into theplastic, but he didn't even wince, because he saw the Connie cruiser'ssteering tubes buckle under theAquila's sudden shove.

And suddenly the picture was clear. The two Federation cruisers hadn'tcared about getting into the Connie ship. They had only wanted an excuseto tie up to it so they could do what had just been done.

They had sheared off the enemy's steering tubes, first at the stern, thenat the bow, leaving him helpless, able to go only forward or back in thedirection in which he happened to be pointing!

MacFife had a broad grin on his face. As Rip started to speak, he held uphis hand and pointed at a wall speaker.

The Connie commander came on the circuit. He screamed, "You planned that!You—you—"

Galliene's voice spoke soothingly. "But my dear commander! How can Iapologize? Believe me, the man responsible will be reward—I mean, theman responsible will be disciplined. You may rest assured of it. Howunfortunate! I am overcome with shame."

MacFife picked up a microphone. "Same here, Connie. A terrible accident.Aye, the man who did it will hear from me."

"Ah," Galliene replied, "but you cannot prove otherwise. Commander, doyou realize what this means? You are helpless. Interplanetary law saysthat a helpless space ship must be salvaged and taken in tow by thenearest cruiser, no matter what its nationality. We will do this jointly,theAquila and theSagittarius. We will take turns towing you, myfriend. We will haul you to Terra—like any other piece of space junk."

MacFife could remain quiet no longer. "Yes, mister. And that's no' theend o' it. We will collect the salvage fee. One half the value of thesalvaged vessel. Aye! My men will like that, since we share and sharealike on salvage. Now, put out a cable from your nose tube. I'll take yein tow first."

The two spacemen had figured out the one way to repay the Connie for hisattempts on the asteroid. They couldn't fire on him, but they could fakean accident that would cripple him and cost Consops millions of dollarsin salvage fees.

Nor would Consops refuse to pay. Salvage law was clear. Whoever performedthe salvage was not required to turn the ship back to its owners untilthe fee had been paid.

And there was another angle. The cruisers would tow the Connie intothe Federation spaceport in New Mexico. If past experience was anyindication, the Connie would lose about half its crew, perhaps more.They would claim sanctuary in the Federation.

Rip shook hands solemnly with the grinning Scotchman. It would be a longtime before Consops tried piracy again.

"We'll be back at our family fight again tomorrow," MacFife said, "buttoday we celebrate together. Ah, lad, this is pure joy to me. I've hada score to settle with yon Connies for years. Now I've done it."

He put an arm around Rip's shoulders. "While I'm in a givin' mood, whichis not the way of us Scots, is there anything ye'd like?"

Rip could think of only one thing. "A hot shower. For me and my men. Andwill you take the prisoners off our hands?"

"We'll need some rocket fuel. Terra says we have to correct course. Also,we'll need a nuclear charge to throw us into a braking ellipse. And weneed a new landing boat. The sun baked the equipment out of ours."

MacFife nodded. "So be it. I'll send men to the asteroid to bring backthe prisoners and your Planeteers." He smiled. "We'll let yon rock go byitself while hot showers and a good meal are had by all. Ye've earned it,lad."

Rip started to thank the Scot, but his stomach suddenly turned over, andblack dizziness flooded in on him. He heard MacFife's sudden exclamation,felt hands on him.

White light blinded him. He shook his head and tried to keep his stomachfrom acting up. A voice asked, "Were you shielded from those nuclearblasts?"

"No," he said past a constricted throat. "Not from the last. We got someprompt radiation."

"Bad," the voice said. "He must have taken enough roentgens of gamma andneutrons to reach or exceed the median-lethal dose."

Rip found his voice again. "Santos," he said urgently. "On the asteroid.He got it, too. The rest were shielded."

MacFife snapped orders. The ball-bat would have Santos in the ship withinminutes. Being sick in a space suit was about the most unpleasant thingthat could happen.

A hypospray tingled against Rip's arm. The drug penetrated, caughta quick lift to all parts of his body through the bloodstream.Consciousness slid away.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Spacefall

TheAquila's chief physician listened with polite interest, but heshook his head. "Lieutenant, you simply are not aware of the close callyou've had. Another two hours without treatment, and we might not havebeen able to save you."

"You are not fine. You are anything but fine. We've loaded you withantibiotics and blood cell regenerator, and we've given you a totaltransfusion. You feel fine, but you're not."

The doctor looked at Rip's red hair. "That's a fine thatch of hair youhave. In a week or two it will be gone, and you'll have no more hairthan an egg. A well person doesn't lose hair. Your head will shine likea space helmet."

The ship's radiation safety officer had put both Rip's and Santos'dosimeters into his measuring equipment. They had taken over a hundredroentgens of hard radiation above the tolerance limit. This was theresult of being caught unshielded when the last nuclear charge wentoff.

"Sir," Rip pleaded, "you can load us with suppressives. It's only a fewdays more before we reach Terra. You can keep us going until then. We'llboth turn in for full treatment as soon as we get to the space platform.But we have to finish the job; can't you see that, sir?"

The doctor shook his head. "You're a fool, even for a Planeteer. Beforeyou get over this, you'll be sicker than you've ever been. You have amonth in bed waiting for you. If I let you go back to the asteroid, I'llonly be delaying the time when you start full treatment."

"But the delay won't hurt if you inject us with suppressives, will it?"Rip asked quickly. "Don't they keep the sickness checked?"

"Yes, for a maximum of about ten days. Then they no longer havesufficient effect, and you come down with it."

"But it won't take ten days," Rip pointed out. "It will only take acouple, and it won't hurt us."

MacFife had arrived to hear the last exchange. He nodded sympathetically."Doctor, I can appreciate how the lad feels. He started something, and hewants to finish it. If y'can let him, safely, I think ye should."

The doctor shrugged. "I can let him. There's a nine to one chance it willdo him no harm. But the one chance is what I don't like."

Rip nodded. "That's what I thought. Doctor, we're less than six hoursfrom Terra by ship. If the stuff wears off, we can be in the hospitalwithin a couple of hours. Once we go into a braking ellipse, we can reacha hospital in less than an hour by snapper-boat."

The doctor wasn't happy about it, but he had run out of arguments. "Allright, Commander—if you'll assume responsibility for getting him off theasteroid and into a Terra or space platform hospital in time."

"I'll do that," MacFife assured him. "Now get your hyposprays and fillhim full of that stuff you use. The corporal, too."

"Sergeant," Rip corrected. His first action on getting back to theasteroid would be to recommend Santos' promotion to Terra base. Heintended to recommend Kemp for corporal, too. He was sure the Planeteersat Terra would make the promotions.

The two Federation cruisers were still holding course along with theasteroid, the Connie cruiser between them.

Within an hour, Rip and Santos, both in false good health, thanks tomedical magic, were on their way back to the asteroid in a ball-bat boat.

The remaining time passed quickly. The sun receded. The Planeteerscorrected course. Rip sent in his recommendations for promotions andlooked over the last nuclear crater to see why the blast had started theasteroid spinning.

The reason could only be guessed. The blast probably had opened a faultin the crystal, allowing the explosion to escape partially in the wrongdirection.

Once the course was corrected, Rip calculated the position for the finalnuclear charge. When the asteroid reached the correct position relativeto Earth, the charge would not change its course but only slow its speedsomewhat. The asteroid would go around Earth in a series of evertightening ellipses, using Terra's gravity, plus rocket fuel, to slowit down to orbital speed.

When it reached the proper position, tubes of rocket fuel would changethe course again, putting it into an orbit around Earth, close to thespace platform. It wasn't practical to take the thorium rock in for alanding. They would lose control, and the asteroid would flame to Earthlike the greatest meteor ever to hit the planet.

Putting the asteroid into orbit around Earth was actually the mostdelicate part of the whole trip, but Rip wasn't worried. He had thefacilities of Terra base within easy reach by communicator. He dictatedhis data and let them do the mathematics on the giant electroniccomputers.

He and his men rode the gray planet past the moon, so close they couldalmost see the Planeteer lunar base, circled Terra in a series ofellipses, and finally blasted the asteroid into its final orbit withinsight of the space platform.

Landing craft and snapper-boats swarmed to meet them, and within an hourafter their arrival the Planeteers were surrounded by spacemen, cadetsfrom the platform, and officers and men wearing Planeteer black.

A cadet approached Rip and looked at him with awe. "Sir, I don't know howyou ever did it!"

And Rip, his eyes on the great curve of Earth, answered casually,"There's one thing every space chick has to learn if he's going to be aPlaneteer. There's always a way to do anything. To be a Planeteer, youhave to be able to figure out the way."

Rip turned quickly and looked through a helmet at the grinning face ofMaj. Joe Barris.

Barris spoke as though to himself, but Rip turned red as his hair. "Funnyhow fast a man ages in space," the Planeteer major remarked. "TakeFoster. A few weeks ago he was just a cadet, a raw recruit who had nevermet high vack. Now he's talking like the grandfather of all space. Idon't know how the Special Order Squadrons ever got along before hebecame an officer."

CHAPTER TWENTY

On the Platform

There were two things Rip could see from his hospital bed on the spaceplatform. One was the great curve of Earth. He was anxious to get outof the hospital and back to Terra.

The second thing was the asteroid. Spacemen were at work on it, slowlycutting it to pieces. The pieces were small enough to be carried back toEarth in supply rockets. It would be a long time before the asteroid wascompletely cut up and transported to Terra base.

Sergeant Major Koa came into the hospital ward and sat on Rip's bed. Theplastifoam mattress compressed under his weight. "How are you feeling,sir?"

"Pretty good," Rip replied. The worst of the radiation sickness was over,and he was mending fast. Here and there were little bloodstains, justbelow the surface of his skin, and he had no more hair than a plasticball. Otherwise he looked normal. The stains would go away, and his hairwould grow back in a few weeks.

Santos, now officially a sergeant, was in the same condition. The rest ofRip's Planeteers had resumed duties on the space platform. He saw themfrequently, because they made a point of dropping in whenever they werenear the hospital area.

Koa looked out at the asteroid. "I sort of hate to see that rock cut up.There isn't much about a chunk of thorium to get sentimental over, butafter fighting for it the way we did, it doesn't seem right to cut itinto blocks."

"I know how you feel," Rip admitted, "but, after all, that's what webrought it back for."

He studied Koa's dark face. The sergeant major had something on his mind."Got vack worms chewing at you?" he asked. Vack worms were a spaceman'sequivalent of "the blues."

"Not exactly, sir. I happened to overhear the doctor talking today.You're due for a leave in a week."

Koa shrugged. "We were all hoping we'd be together on our nextassignment. The gang liked serving under you. But we're overdue forshipment to somewhere, and if you take eight weeks' leave, we'll be goneby the time you come back to the platform."

"I liked serving with all of you, too," Rip replied. "I watched the wayyou all behaved when the space flap was getting tough, and it made meproud to be a Planeteer."

"Stay here," Barris said. "This concerns you, too. I've been reassigned.My eight years on the platform are up, and that's all an instructor gets.Now I'm off for space on another job."

Rip knew that instructors were assigned for eight-year periods. And heknew that the major's specialty was the Planeteer science of exploration,a specialty which required him to be an expert in biology, zoology,anthropology, navigation and astrogation, and land fighting—not tomention a half dozen lesser things. Only ten Planeteers rated expert inexploration, and all were captains or majors.

"That's it." Major Barris smiled. "Remember once I said that when theygave me the job of cleaning up the goopies on Ganymede, I'd ask for youas a platoon leader?"

"Almost. Tell me, would you recommend any more of your men for promotion?I'll need a new sergeant and two more corporals."

Rip thought it over. "Koa can check me on this. I'd suggest makingPederson a sergeant and Dowst and Dominico corporals. Kemp and Santosalready have promotions."

"Fine." Barris tapped the envelope. "I'll correct the orders in hereand recommend the promotions. We'll get sixteen new recruits from thegraduating class at Luna, and that will complete the platoon I'm supposedto organize. Two full platoons are waiting, and the new platoon will giveme a full-strength squadron, except for new officers. How about FlipVilla for a platoon commander, Rip?"

Rip knew the Mexican officer was among the best of his own graduatingclass. "I have to admit prejudice," he warned. "Flip is a pal of mine.But I don't think you could do better." His curiosity got the better ofhim, and he asked "Can you tell me what this is all about?"

Joe Barris reached over and rubbed Rip's bald head. "By the time furgrows back on that irradiated dome of yours, I'll be on my way withKoa, Pederson, and the new recruits. Santos and the rest of your crewwill report to Terra base. Flip Villa will join them there. You'll beon Earth leave for eight weeks, but it will take about that much time forFlip and the men to assemble the supplies and equipment we'll need."

He pulled a sheaf of papers out of the envelope. "Koa, here are ordersfor you and your men. They say you're to report to Special Order SquadronSeven, on Ganymede. SOS Seven is a new squadron, the first one organizedexclusively for exploration duties, and I'm its commanding officer. Koa,you'll be my senior noncommissioned officer. I want you and Pederson withme, because you can organize the new recruits en route. They have a lotmore to learn from you than they got in their two years of training.You'll make real Planeteers out of 'em."

He picked a paper from the sheaf and waived it at Rip. "This is for you,Lieutenant Foster." He read, "Foster, R. I. P., Lieutenant, SOS. Serialseven-nine-four-three. Authorized eight weeks' leave upon discharge fromhospital. Upon completion of leave, subject officer will report to Terrabase for transportation to SOS Seven on Ganymede."

Joe Barris handed Rip his new orders. "You'll be on the same ship withFlip Villa and your men. Flip will be another of my platoon leaders.I'll be waiting for you on Ganymede. The moons of Jupiter are going to beour home for quite a while, Rip. Our first assignment is to exploreCallisto from pole to pole."

Rip didn't know what to say. To serve under Barris, to have his own menin a regular squadron platoon, to have Flip Villa in the same outfit,and to be assigned to exploration duty—dirtiest but most exciting of allPlaneteer jobs—was just too much. He couldn't say anything. He couldonly grin.

Maj. Joe Barris looked at Rip's shiny head and chuckled. "From what Ihear of Callisto, we're in for a rough time. Your hair will probablygrow back just in time to turn gray!"

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