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Updated: May 24, 2025
"Can you give me a good reason why I shouldn’t have you treated for space madness, then toss you in the spacepot until we reach earth?" "Best reason in the galaxy," Rip said cheerfully. "But before we talk about it, I want to know how my men are. One got cut and another had his bubble cracked.
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.
For a long moment his glance locked with Rip’s, then he roared with laughter. Rip grinned his relief. "My apologies, sir." "Accepted," O’Brine chuckled. "I’m sorry I won’t have an excuse for dumping you in the spacepot, Foster. Your explanation is acceptable, but I have a suspicion that you enjoyed calling me names." "I might have," Rip admitted, "but I wasn’t in very good shape.
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