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Bradshaw was an Englishman, Trudeau a Frenchman, Dominico an Italian, and Nunez a Brazilian. Rip liked their looks. They were as relaxed as acceleration would allow, but you got the impression that they would leap into action in a microsecond if the word were given. He couldn’t imagine what kind of assignment was waiting, but he was satisfied with his Planeteers. They looked capable of anything.
Koa and Santos laughed so hard they had trouble collecting the scattered equipment. Rip, slowed by his crash with Trudeau, got his feet under him again. When the asteroid turned into the sun, they still had not collected Rip's stylus and five of the attack rockets. The space pencil was the only thing that could write on the computing board. It had to be found.
Trudeau arrived with a pole made by lashing two crate sticks together. Rip gave directions as they formed a cylinder of nuclite. Kemp spot-welded it, and they pushed it into the hole. Nunez found a small piece of material in one of the earlier craters. It would provide some neutrons to start the chain reaction.
Between the snake and the Indian scout Trudeau and Stillwell had experienced, as the record says, the most terrible half-hour of their lives. The collapse of the danger left them both weak. They now had found out that it was not yet safe to travel by day; so they stayed here in the wallow, with the buffalo carcass for company, till evening. In this next night's journey poor Trudeau broke.
He went headlong, shooting like a rocket three feet above the ground. His board flew away at a tangent. His stylus sped out of his glove like a miniature projectile, and the slide rule clanged against his bubble. It happened so fast that neither Koa nor Santos had time to grab him. The action had given him extra speed, and he saw with horror that he was going to crash into Trudeau.
"Are their belt lights on?" "Yes." "Then keep out of the beams. Don't let them walk into you. Keep low, and keep moving. Stay on the dark side." "We'd better get to the dark side ourselves," Koa warned. He was right, Rip knew. The Connies didn't have far to search before reaching the sun side. "Koa, you take Trudeau and Kemp. I'll take Dowst and Dominico.
Corporal Pederson produced hardened steel spikes with ring tops. Private Trudeau had a sledge. Driving the first spike would be the hardest, because the action of swinging the hammer would propel the Planeteer like a rocket exhaust. In space, the law that every action has an equal and opposite reaction had to be remembered every moment.
"Let’s go," Rip said, and as he rose he heard Koa’s voice. The sergeant-major said, "Kemp, kneel on their right side. Trudeau and I will hit them from the left and tumble them over you. Get their communicators first." Koa had methods of his own, apparently, and they sounded good. Rip started slowly. He wanted to get directly behind the Connies.
Bradshaw was an Englishman, Trudeau a Frenchman, Dominico an Italian, and Nunez a Brazilian. Rip liked their looks. They were as relaxed as acceleration would allow, but you got the impression that they would leap into action in a microsecond if the word were given. He couldn't imagine what kind of assignment was waiting, but he was satisfied with his Planeteers. They looked capable of anything.
That fourth evening after dusk they were challenged by the post sentry, and tottered on in with their message from the island in the Arikaree, one hundred miles to the northward. Jack Stillwell went with the relief column from the fort. Scout Trudeau could not; he was exhausted. He never did recover, and the next spring he died; he had given his life to save the lives of others.
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