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Updated: May 2, 2025
He had sent the snapper-boats to try and draw fire in an attempt to find out more surely whether Planeteers or Connies had the thorium rock. "The Scorpius doesn’t know what’s going on," Rip told his Planeteers. "O’Brine didn’t know the cruiser was waiting to ambush him, so the rocket we fired made him think the Connies had taken us over." He put himself in O’Brine’s place.
A blossom of orange fire marked a perfect hit. The Scorpius could have taken direct hits with little or no major damage from a hundred rockets of the kind Rip had used, but Commander O’Brine took no chances. When the alarm bell signaled that the outer hull had been hit, the commander acted instantly with a bellowed order.
Two spacemen jumped forward. One twisted Rip’s bubble free and lifted it off. The heavy air of the ship hit him with physical force. O’Brine grated, "You’re under arrest, Foster, for firing on the Scorpius, for insubordination, and for conduct unbecoming an officer. Get out of that suit and get flaming. It’s the spacepot for you." Rip had to grin. He couldn’t help it.
Valve Eight was some distance away. Rip decided a cross ramp would be faster than the moving track. He swung the spack to his shoulder and made his legs go. Seconds were ticking off, and he had an idea the Scorpius would make space on time, whether or not he arrived.
A thought had just struck him. The Scorpius had trouble finding the asteroid because it was just one of many sailing along through the belt. But now the asteroid was the only one traveling across the belt. It would make an outstanding blip on any radar ’scope. It wasn’t possible that the Connie cruiser had missed the blip and its significance.
The Planeteers were trained in the use of fire bombs, tanks of chemicals that burned even in an airless world. They were equipped with simple jets for use in space. The snapper-boats drew off, back toward the Scorpius. Rip watched, searching for some reason for their actions. Then one of the boats pulled away from the others. It returned to the asteroid, with stern jet burning fitfully.
The first case produced a complete chemical cutting unit, with an assortment of cutting tips and adapters. Rip looked around for the gas cylinders and saw none. "Something's wrong," he objected. "Where's the fuel supply for the torch?" The supply clerk inspected the lists, shuffled papers, and found the answer. "The following," he read, "are to be supplied from the Scorpius complement.
Talking about assignments wasn't considered good practice, but Rip was burning with curiosity. "You don't by chance know what my assignment is, do you?" The captain's eyebrows went up. "Don't you?" Rip shook his head. "O'Brine hasn't told me." "I don't know a thing," Southwick said. "We got instructions to pack up a pretty strange assortment of supplies for the Scorpius, and that's all I know.
As he reached the engine control room, Commander O’Brine was giving instructions to his spacemen on the stowage of equipment that evidently was expected aboard. Rip felt a twinge of disappointment. If the Scorpius had landed to take on supplies of some kind, his assignment was probably not on Mars. He started to approach the commander with a question about his orders, then thought better of it.
It was bait. The Scorpius had sent piloted snapper-boats over the asteroid at high speed, criss-crossing in order to cover the thorium world completely, expecting to have the unknown rocketeer fire at them. Then a fire bomb had been dropped as a further means of getting the asteroid to fire.
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