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It was quite another to face the nuclear drive ship with its missile ports cleared for action. The Connie knew he had lost. Rip and the Planeteers saw the Consops ship suddenly flame away, then turn and dive for low space below the asteroid belt, in a direction opposite to the one the Scorpius had taken. The Planeteers' helmet communicators rang with their cheers.
O’Brine was operating as expected. Rip was having trouble keeping his vision from blurring. He leaned against the rocket launcher and his glove caressed one of the sharp noses in the rack. He heard his own voice before the idea had even taken full form. "Santos! Do you hear me? Santos! Get the Scorpius! Fire before it comes to a stop. And don’t miss!"
Sixty minutes later, clean, fed, and contented, the Planeteers were again on the thorium planet, while the Scorpius, riding the same orbit, stood by a few miles out in space. The asteroid and the great cruiser arched high above the belt of tiny worlds in the orbit Rip had set, traveling together toward distant Mars. Mercury Transit
As he spoke, printed copies were being received in the platform personnel office, at Special Order Squadron headquarters on Earth, aboard the cruiser Bolide in high space, and aboard the newly landed cruiser Scorpius. Rip listened, spellbound. "Foster, R.I.P., Lieutenant, SOS. Serial seven-nine-four-three. Assigned SOS Four. Change orders, effective this date-time. Cancel Earth leave.
But on the dark side, Rip measured temperatures close to absolute zero. When the Scorpius returned, he arranged with Commander O'Brine for the Planeteers to take turns going to the cruiser for showers and decent meals. The asteroid approached the orbit of Venus, but the bright planet was some distance away, at its greatest elongation to the east of the sun.
The newer nuclear drive cruisers had no need to stop. Their atomic piles needed new neutron sources only once every few years, and they carried thousands of tons of methane, compressed into solid form, for their reaction mass. The voice horn in the rocket cabin sounded. "The SCN Scorpius is passing Valve Two, landing at Valve Eight."
Corporal Nels Pederson spoke up in a soft Stockholm accent. "Never mind, sir. We'll get back at them. We always do!" While the Scorpius decelerated and started maneuvering for a landing, Rip did some rapid calculations.
He didn't want the others to hear what he had to say. His voice came like a roar from the bottom of a well. "Lieutenant, do you suppose there's any chance the blast might break up the asteroid? Maybe split it in two?" The same thought had occurred to Rip on the Scorpius.
A blossom of orange fire marked a perfect hit. Hard Words 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.
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 space pot for you." Rip had to grin. He couldn't help it.
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