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Updated: May 26, 2025
He kept his back straight and his eyes on the crater rim. His hands were occupied with two air bottles taken from his belt, and his thumbs were on their valve releases. He waited patiently for word from Santos that his helmet glow had been seen. Santos yelled, "Now!" Rip's legs straightened with a mighty thrust.
So we let her persuade us, an' she teks Rip's measure theer an' then, an' sent to Hamilton's to order a silver collar again t' time when he was to be her awn, which was to be t' day she set off for Munsooree Pahar. 'Sitha, Mulvaney, says I, when we was outside, 'you're niver goin' to let her hev Rip! 'An' would ye disappoint a poor old woman? says he; 'she shall have a Rip.
He drove his glove up under Rip's heart. Rip let go of the valve and used his elbow to lever away, just as the Connie pressed his knife's release valve. The blade slammed outward and drove into the inside of Rip's right arm, just above the elbow. Pain lanced through him, and he felt the blood rush to the wound as air poured through the gap in his suit.
There was a chorus of gasps from the men as they saw the thing Rip had realized a moment before. The Consops cruiser was playing it safe, using its rocket exhaust as a great blowtorch to burn the surface of the asteroid clean of any possible life! The sheer inhumanity of the thing made Rip's stomach tighten into a knot. No asking for surrender, no taking of prisoners, not even a clean fight.
The birds hadn't the decency to wait for him, and so, parson, it's their fault, and not Rip's, you haven't a dozen brace at your feet. What have you been doing at home, Cousin Rady?" "Playing Hamlet, in the absence of the Prince of Denmark. The day without you, my dear boy, must be dull, you know." "'He speaks: can I trust what he says is sincere?
But each of those units of time in passing brought them nearer to greater danger. Sooner or later they must make the transition out of Hyper into system space, and the jump out of warp was something not even a veteran took lightly. Rip's round face thinned while they watched. Jellico was still functioning.
The high-velocity slug would go right through him, to explode in one of the struggling figures behind and the wrong one might get it. The Connie saw Rip's action and tossed his pistol aside. He, too, knew he couldn't fire. He reached into a knee pouch and drew out his space knife. He leaped for the Planeteer. Rip pulled frantically at his pistol.
Rip's boots caught one Connie where his bubble joined his suit, and the impact drove the man downward to the unyielding surface of the asteroid with a soundless smash. Rip threw up his arms to cushion his helmet as he struck the ground beyond his enemy. He threw the air bottles away.
The head and shoulder fur of the older fighter was dripping wet and an empty goblet rolled across the table to bump to the floor. A hush had fallen on the immediate neighbors of the pair, and there was an air of expectancy about the company. "Threw his drink all over the other fellow," Rip's soft whisper explained. "That means a duel " "Here and now?"
With his right hand Rip scooped up the scribbler while the Com-tech half turned to make adjustments to the controls, picking up a speaker to call the I-S headquarters. Rip's left index finger snapped across his thumb to form a circle. Ali's rod did not even leave his belt, it tilted up and the invisible deadening stream from it centered upon the seated tech.
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