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Updated: April 30, 2025
This was going a little far, Rip thought, but it was not his affair, and he didn't know exactly what MacFife and Galliene had in mind. The Aquila's boat arrived with astonishing speed. Rip saw it flash in the sunlight and knew he had never seen one like it before. It was a perfect globe, about twenty feet in diameter. Blast holes covered the globe at intervals of six feet.
"I'm MacFife. Get out of that suit quick, because ye don't want to miss what's aboot to happen." With his own hands he 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.
Additional minutes passed and the officer returned with the cases. Wordlessly he handed them to Galliene and MacFife. The Connie commander snapped, "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, and informative. Our profound thanks."
The space officer gave Rip a hand out of the harness, and the young Planeteer went through the 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 hurried to Rip’s side and twisted his bubble, lifting it off. "Hurry, lad," he greeted Rip. "I’m MacFife.
The Eagle was commanded by a tough Scotsman, and the Archer by a Frenchman. Commander MacFife spoke through the communicator. "Switch bands to universal, lad. Me'n Galliene are goin' to talk this Connie into a braw mess. MacFife off." Rip guessed that the two cruiser commanders had been in communication while enroute to the asteroid and had cooked up some kind of plan.
Get him. Quick!" MacFife snapped orders. The ball-bat would have Santos in the ship within minutes. Being sick in a space suit was about the most unpleasant thing that could happen to anyone. A hypospray tingled against Rip’s arm. The drug penetrated, caught a quick lift to all parts of his body through his bloodstream. Consciousness slid away. Rip was never more eloquent.
The valve connection was in the middle of each ship, at the point of greatest diameter. From that point each ship grew more slender. MacFife pointed to the Connie’s nose. Projecting from it like great horns were the ship’s steering tubes. Unlike the Federation cruiser which blasted steam through internal tubes that did not project, the Connie used chemical fuel. "Watch," MacFife said.
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 the Frenchman’s sarcastic farewell speech. MacFife, Rip, and the officer with the instruments went back through the valves into their own ship. Once inside, MacFife called, "Come with me. Hurry."
"It will only take a couple, 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 he wants 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 will do him no harm. But the one chance is what I don’t like."
"It will only take a couple, 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 he wants 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 will do him no harm. But the one chance is what I don't like."
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