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The Connie cruiser decelerated, went into reverse, and came to a full stop about a mile from the asteroid. The Planeteers saw fire in two places along the hull, marking the exhausts of two small craft. "Snapper-boats," Koa said tonelessly. "Five men in each, if those are the regular Connie kind." Rip made a quick decision. With only one launcher they couldn’t guard the whole asteroid.
"Show an exhaust," he called. The Connie must have blasted the opposite side of the asteroid while they were 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. Koa reached the cave well ahead of the rest, reached for a rack of rockets, and slapped it into the launcher. Rip urged the men on.
The rest of you get the stuff under cover. Ram it!" He hurried to lend a hand himself, hustling crates into the cave. Kemp had made astonishing progress. There was room for the crates, if stacked properly, and for the men besides. Rip supervised the stacking, then the placement of the rocket launcher at the entrance. "All hands inside the boat," he ordered.
At a half-mile distance, he peered through the telescope sight of his launcher. The bubbs were close together. The lookout floated free. Him, he got first, with a careful, homing shot. Immediately he fired a burst into each bubb, saw them collapse around their human contents. The men inside were like cats in limp bags, the exits of which could no longer be found.
"Load the communicator, the extra bomb parts, the rocket launcher and rockets, 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 nearly loaded, then told Dominico to set the timer for five minutes.
Santos threw rockets among them and scored hits, but the boats kept coming. The Connies were too far away from the cruiser to return, and they knew it. Getting to the asteroid was their only chance. Rip called, "Santos! Cease fire. Set the launcher for ground level. Let them land, but don't fire until I give the word." He put his helmet against his prisoner's for direct communication.
"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. Why supply fighting equipment for a crew on an asteroid that couldn’t possibly have any living thing on it? He left the puzzle for the future and called for more cases.
He had to describe exactly what he saw here so the Nyjorders would know he wasn't lying. What he told them had to fit exactly with the information they already had about the launcher and the bombs. The launcher had been jury-rigged from a ship's jump-space generator; that was obvious. The generator and its controls were neatly cased and mounted.
Koa, can you estimate from the exhaust how far away they are?" "Not very well, Lieutenant. From the position of the streak, I’d say they’re decelerating." The Planeteers looked at Rip. He was in command, and they expected him to do something about the situation. Rip didn’t know what to do. The rocket launcher, their only weapon, wasn’t designed for fighting spaceships.
Earlier models had permanent compartments, but they took up too much room in craft designed for carrying as many men and as much equipment as possible. They were strictly work boats, and hard experience had dictated the best design. The rocket launcher was already set up near the boat. It was a simple affair, with three adjustable legs bolted to ground spikes.
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