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Not only was the Connie still there, but its main air lock was sliding open to disclose a new danger. In the opening, ready to launch, an assault boat waited. The assault boats were something only the Connies used. They were about four times the size of a snapper-boat, less maneuverable but more powerful. They carried 20 men and a pair of guided missiles with atomic warheads!
Space blew up in Rip’s face. The snapper-boat slewed wildly as the Connie shot took effect. Rip worked his controls frantically, trying to straighten the rocket out more by instinct than anything else. His eyes recovered from the blinding flash and he gulped as he saw the raw, twisted metal where the boat’s nose had been.
Space isn't very big." A short time later Rip stood in front of his asteroid base and watched the great cruiser drive into space. A short distance away a snapper-boat was lashed to the landing boat. O'Brine had left it, with a word of warning. "These Connies are plenty smart. I don't like leaving you unprotected, even within reach of Mercury and Terra, but orders are orders.
The damaged snapper-boat instantly blasted from its nose tubes, decelerated and went into reverse, flipping through space crabwise as it tried to regain the safety of the cruiser. The two boats that had crashed while trying to dodge were blasting in great spurts of flame, following the example of their damaged companion. "Seven left," Rip called, and another rocket flashed on its way.
He wondered how they would explode the second charge, since they had only the one timer left, then forgot about it. Time enough to worry when faced with the problem. "I’ll take the snapper-boat," he stated. "Santos in the gunner’s seat. Koa in charge in the landing boat. Dowst pilot. Let’s show an exhaust."
In other words, he had what he needed—except for a method of putting all the pieces together to create a bomb. If only they had a tube of some sort that would withstand the chemical explosion—the one that brought the critical mass together! He told the Planeteers what he had been thinking, then asked, "Any ideas for a tube?" "How about a tube from the snapper-boat?" Santos suggested.
Where Connie snapper-boats carried five men, the Federation boats carried two. The Connies could fire in any direction. The Federation pilots aimed by pointing the snapper-boat itself, as fighter pilots of conventional aircraft had once aimed their guns. Rip watched the boats approach. He was ready to duck inside if they decided to look the asteroid over before landing.
Santos followed a second later, and the crippled rocket twisted wildly under the two Planeteers. "Don't use the propulsion tubes," Rip called. "Slow down with your air bottles." He thrust the tubes into his belt, found his air bottles, and pointed two of them in the direction they had been traveling. He wanted to come to a stop, to let the wild snapper-boat get away from them.
The snapper-boat changed direction, and for a fraction of a second stern and side tubes "fought" each other, making the boat yaw wildly. Then it straightened out on a new course. Koa exclaimed, "That's a drone!" Rip got it then. A pilotless snapper-boat! That's why its actions were a little uneven. Only one thing could explain its deliberate slowness. It was bait.
"As hostages, sir?" "That's it. If we could capture them, the Connie cruiser would be helpless. We could use the snapper-boat radios to warn the ship that any false move would mean harm to their men." Koa shook his head doubtfully. "I'm not sure the Connies worry about their men, but it's worth the try. We can capture some of them if they split up to search the asteroid.
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