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Updated: June 10, 2025
Commander O'Brine leaned over his shoulder and peered at the lettering on the cylinder: EQUIVALENT TEN KT. In other words, the explosion the harmless-looking cylinder could produce was equivalent to ten thousand tons of TNT, a chemical explosive no longer in actual use but still used for comparison. Rip asked huskily, "Any more of those things?"
I'll assign a pilot to bring number five back to the ship after you've landed." "Thank you." Rip would have been surprised at the deputy's quick assent if Commander O'Brine hadn't shown him that the spacemen were ready to do anything possible to aid the Planeteers.
There were two bombs each of five KT and ten KT. Commander O'Brine looked at the amazing assortment of stuff. "Does that check, clerk?" The spaceman nodded. "Yes, sir. I found another notation that says food supplies and personal equipment to be supplied by the Scorpius." "Well, vack me for a Venusian rabbit!" O'Brine muttered. He tugged at his ear.
We're beyond the position where the asteroid was sighted, moving along what the Altair figured as its orbit. I'm not stretching space, Foster, when I tell you we're hunting for a needle in a junk pile. This part of space is filled with more objects than you would imagine, and they all register on the rad screens." "We'll find it," Rip said confidently. O'Brine nodded. "Yes.
There was a time for spacemen and Planeteers to fight each other and a time for them 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." And Rip knew his apology was accepted. The deputy commander arrived, drew O'Brine aside, and whispered in his ear. The commander let out an exclamation and started out of the room.
But no rockets had been fired from the asteroid, so the pilot in control 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 seen the blip on his screen as the Connie cruiser flamed off, Kip reasoned. But the commander probably suspected that the Connies had overcome the Planeteers and were in control of the asteroid.
Rip got there by pulling himself right across the top of the chart table. The green point of light on the 'scope was bigger than any other he had seen. "It's about the right size," O'Brine said. There was excitement in his voice. "Correct course. Let's take a look at it." All hands gripped something with which to steady themselves as the cruiser 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. Double speed, then decelerate to reach it in thirty minutes." The control officer issued orders to the engine control room. In a moment acceleration plucked at them. O'Brine motioned to Rip. "Come on, Foster.
He sliced off pieces of the warm stuff and chewed thoughtfully, watching O'Brine's face for a clue as to why the commander had invited him to sit down. It wasn't long in coming. "Your orders are the strangest things I've ever read," O'Brine stated. "Do you know where we're going?" Rip figured quickly. They had accelerated for six and a half hours.
His words sped through space into the bubble of the pilot, echoed in the helmet, were picked up by the pilot's microphone, and then were hurled through the 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 and hollow-sounding from reverberations in the snapper-boat pilot's helmet.
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