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Then, when they’re pretty well satisfied that all is quiet, we’ll show up." Rip grinned at his Planeteers. "We can have a real, old-fashioned surprise party." Koa slid the safety catch from his pistol. "With fireworks," he added. The snapper-boats came out of the darkness of space, leaving a glowing trail of fire. They were not graceful.
The object was a portable rocket launcher designed to fire light attack rockets. It was a standard item of fighting equipment for Planeteers. "I recognize the shape of those cases over there, now," Koa said. "Ten racks of rockets for the launcher, one rack to a case." Rip scratched his head. He was as puzzled as Santos.
Their single five KT bomb contained at least enough plutonium for two critical masses, if brought together inside a good neutron reflector. Each mass should give about a two kiloton explosion. And they did have a good neutron reflector nuclite. There wasn't anything better. "What have we got for a neutron source?" he asked aloud. He was really asking himself, but he got a quick answer from Koa.
He paused, then added politely. "If you don't mind looking at your face, sir to see how clean the tubes are, I mean." Rip turned and got out of there. Koa was waiting in the passageway outside. Rip told him what had happened, mimicking O'Brine's Irish accent. The sergeant major shook his head sadly. "This is what I meant, Lieutenant.
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 best fleedle I’ve ever seen an earthling make. You been on Venus?" Rip eyed him suspiciously, wondering if the big Planeteer was laughing at him. Koa was grinning, but it was a friendly grin. "What is a fleedle?" Rip demanded.
Rip listened, spellbound. "Foster, R.I.P., Lieutenant, SOS. Serial seven-nine-four-three. Assigned SOS Four. Change orders, effective this date-time. Cancel earth-leave. Subject officer will report to commander, SCN Scorpius with detachment of nine men. Senior non-commissioned officer and second in command, Koa, A.P., Sergeant-major, SOS. Serial two-nine-four-one.
"We'll use one hole for all three charges. They don't have to be fired all at once." "How do we fire them?" Koa asked. "Electrically. Who has the igniters and the hand dynamo?" "Dowst has the igniters. One of the Connies is carrying the dynamo." Speaking of the Connies Rip hadn't seen the Consops cruiser recently. He looked up, searching for its exhaust, and finally found it, some distance away.
"Let’s go," Rip said, and as he rose he heard Koa’s voice. The sergeant-major said, "Kemp, kneel on their right side. Trudeau and I will hit them from the left and tumble them over you. Get their communicators first." Koa had methods of his own, apparently, and they sounded good. Rip started slowly. He wanted to get directly behind the Connies.
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.
"Let's go," Rip said, and as he rose he heard Koa's voice. The sergeant major said, "Kemp, kneel on their right side. Trudeau and I will hit them from the left and tumble them over you. Get their communicators first." Koa had his own methods and they sounded good. Rip started slowly. He wanted to get directly behind the Connies.
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