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The Consops cruiser was playing it safe, using its rocket exhaust as a great blowtorch to burn the surface of the asteroid clean! 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 Connie was doing its arguing with fire, knowing that the exhaust would char every man on the asteroid’s surface.
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. He flashed into space headfirst, at an angle that took him over the crater’s rim and 50 feet above the ground. He caught a glimpse of Santos’s helmet, glowing like a pink balloon, and of the three Connies facing it, one with gun upraised.
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.
Spacemen clapped emergency respirators to their faces and spoke unkindly of Rip’s Planeteers in the saltiest space language they could think of. Rip and his men picked up Koa and continued their march to the decontamination room, grinning under their respirators at the consternation around them.
Rip hoped the Connie wouldn’t call his bluff, because that’s all it was. He couldn’t use a space knife on an unarmed prisoner. The Connie didn’t know that. In Rip’s place he would have no compunctions about using the knife, so instead of calling Rip’s bluff he agreed.
Rip’s arms flashed above his head. His thumbs compressed. Air spurted from the two bottles, driving him downward, feet first, directly at the heads of the Connies! From the corner of his eye Rip saw Dowst’s heavy space boots and knew the private was right with him. As they drove down, one of the Connies stepped a little distance away from the others, probably to get a better look at Santos.
The long hours passed, and only Rip’s chronometer told him when the end of a day was reached. The Planeteers alternately worked on the surface and rested in the air of the landing boat compartment while the asteroid sped steadily on its way.
We’ve loaded you with antibiotics and blood cell regenerator, and we’ve given you a total transfusion. You feel fine, but you’re not." The doctor looked at Rip’s red hair. "That’s a fine thatch of hair you have. In a week or two it will be gone and you’ll have no more hair than an egg. A well person doesn’t lose hair."
The Connie sensed something and turned, just as Rip and Dowst flashed downward on his two mates. 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.
Koa took Rip’s arm, to lead him inside, but the young officer shook him off. "No, Koa. I’ll take my chances out here. I want to see what they’re up to." "Great Cosmos, sir! They’ll go over this rock like Martian beetles. You’ll get it for sure." "Get inside," Rip ordered. He gathered strength enough to make his voice firm. "I’m staying here until I figure out some way to call them off.
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