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Out of each 15 who started training, an average of five fell by the wayside. For Planeteer officers, the requirements were even tougher. Only one out of each 500 applicants finally received a commission. Six years of training made them proficient in the techniques of exploration, fighting, rocketeering, and both navigation and astrogation.

The tallest was perhaps forty feet high. It was roughly pyramidal, with a base about sixty feet thick. It would do. "Kemp." The private hurried to his side. "Take the torch and make us a cave. 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."

Commander O'Brine stared for a moment, then took the unconscious Planeteer and swung him upright. His quick eyes took in the patch on the arm, the safety line tied tightly. He roared, "Quick! Get him to the wound ward!" Rip came back to consciousness on the operating table.

Then their personnel machines must have whirred rapidly, electronic brains searching for the nearest available Planeteer officer with an astrophysics specialty and astrogation training. He could imagine the reaction when the machine turned up the name of a brand-new lieutenant. But the choice was logical enough.

The Irishman thrust out his hand. "Stay out of high vack, Foster. Too bad you didn't join us instead of the Planeteers. I might have made a decent officer out of you." Rip grinned. "That's a real compliment, sir. I might return it by saying that you have the makings of a Planeteer officer yourself." O'Brine chuckled. "All right. Let's declare a truce, Planeteer. We'll meet again.

Go Sian-tek, a Chinese Planeteer officer, arrived in one of the cruiser's boats with three enlisted men. Captain Go greeted Rip and his men, then handed over a plastic stylus plate ordering Rip to deliver six cubic meters of thorium for use on Mercury. While Koa supervised the cutting of the block, Rip and the captain chatted.

Watch out!" Then put both hands before him to protect his helmet. His hands caught the French Planeteer between the shoulders with a bone-jarring thud. Trudeau held tight to the launcher, but the rocket racks opened and spilled attack rockets into space. They flew in a dozen different directions. Trudeau gave vent to his feelings in colorful French.

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 colonel said. "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 our course this far?"

The Connie teams came quickly and willingly, and they seemed almost glad to give up their pistols and knives. This was not unusual. Rip had seen many Planeteer reports that spoke of the same thing. Many Connies, it seemed, were glad to get away from the iron Consops rule, even if it meant becoming Federation prisoners. Inside one of the snapper-boats a light glowed.

The Planeteers did the 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 of each one hundred who applied were chosen. Then there were two years of hard training on the space platform and the moon before a recruit was finally accepted as a Planeteer private.