United States or Libya ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Lieutenant, we're all right. Got two Connies, and I don't think they had a chance to yell. But I'm sorry about one, sir. Kemp had to swing at him and busted his bubble." "Fatal?" "No, we patched it in time. But worse than Bradshaw." "Tough." Rip couldn't feel too sympathetic. After all, it was the Connie cruiser's fault Bradshaw had felt high vack. "All right. We have four. That leaves nine."
Even the heaviest crates weighed almost nothing. They passed them from one to the other like balloons. "All clear, sir," Koa called. Rip stepped inside and made a quick inspection. The box was empty except for the spaceman pilot. He put a hand on the pilot’s shoulder. "On your way, Rocky. Thanks." "You’re welcome, sir." The pilot added, "Watch out for high vack."
There were three other atomic bombs, making four in all. There were two bombs each of five KT and ten KT. Commander O’Brine looked at the amazing assortment of stuff. "Does that check, clerk?" The spaceman nodded. "Yes, sir. I found another notation that says food supplies and personal equipment to be supplied by the Scorpius." "Well, vack me for a Venusian rabbit!" O’Brine muttered.
It was about a supply ship, a chemical drive rocket job, that had blasted into an asteroid a few years before. Private Dowst shrugged, too. "Too bad. High vack was waiting for him. Nothing you can do when Old Man Nothing wants you. Not a thing in space!" Rip listened, interested.
There were two bombs each of five KT and ten KT. Commander O'Brine looked at the amazing assortment of stuff. "Does that check, clerk?" The spaceman nodded. "Yes, sir. I found another notation that says food supplies and personal equipment to be supplied by the Scorpius." "Well, vack me for a Venusian rabbit!" O'Brine muttered. He tugged at his ear.
Got two Connies, and I don’t think they had a chance to yell. But I’m sorry about one, sir. Kemp had to swing at him and busted his bubble." "Fatal?" "No, we got a patch on in time. But worse than Bradshaw." "Tough." Rip couldn’t feel too sympathetic. After all, it was the Connie cruiser’s fault Bradshaw had felt high vack. "All right. We have four. That leaves nine." Santos came on the circuit.
Then he clanged his bubble against the man’s helmet for direct communication and shouted, "Grab some space, or I’ll let vack into you!" The Connie understood English. Most earthlings did. But even better was his understanding of the pressure on his back. He stopped struggling and his arms shot starward. Rip breathed freely for the first time since he had leaped, and exultation grew in him.
High vack was waiting for him. Nothing you can do when Old Man Nothing wants you." Rip listened, interested. This was the talk of old space hands. They had given the high vacuum of empty space a personality, calling it "high vack," or "Old Man Nothing." With understandable fatalism, they believed—or said they believed—that when high vacuum really wanted you, there was nothing you could do.
Also, one of the Connies got badly cut, another had some broken bones, and a third one bled into high vack when Koa cracked his bubble." The doctor answered Rip’s question. "Your men are all right. We put the one with the cracked bubble into high compression for a while, just to relieve his pain a little. The other one didn’t bleed much. He’s back in the squadroom right now.
Vack worms were a spaceman's equivalent of "the blues." "Not exactly, sir. I happened to overhear the doctor talking today. You're due for a leave in a week." "That's good news!" Rip exclaimed. "You're not unhappy about it, are you?" Koa shrugged. "We were all hoping we'd be together on our next assignment. The gang liked serving under you.
Word Of The Day