Chapter 4

Rip walked into the squadroom with a copy of the orders in his hand. After one look at his face, the Planeteers clustered around him. Santos woke those who were sleeping, while Rip waited.

"We have our orders, men," he announced. Suddenly he laughed. He couldn’t help it. At first he had been completely overcome by the responsibility, and the magnitude of the job, but now he was getting used to the idea and he could see the adventure in it. Ten wild Planeteers riding an asteroid! Sunny space, what a great big thermo-nuclear stunt!

Koa remarked, "It must be good. The lieutenant is getting a real atomic charge out of it."

"Sit down," Rip ordered. "You’d better, because you might fall over when you hear this. Listen, men. Two days ago the freighter _Altair_ passed through the asteroid belt on a run from Jupiter to Mars." He sat down, too, because deceleration was starting. As his men looked at each other in surprise at the quickness of it, he continued, "The old bucket found something we need. An asteroid of pure thorium."

The enlisted Planeteers knew as well as he what that meant. There were whistles of astonishment. Koa slapped his big thigh. "By Gemini! What do we do about it, sir?"

"We capture it," Rip said. "We blast it loose from its orbit and ride it back to earth."

He sat back and watched their reactions. At first they were stunned. Trudeau, the Frenchman, muttered to himself in French. Dominico, the Italian, held up his hands and exclaimed, "Santa Maria!"

Kemp, one of the American privates, asked, "How do we do it, sir?"

Rip grinned. "That’s a good question. I don’t know."

That stopped them. They stared at him. He added quickly, "Supplies came aboard at Marsport. We’ll get the clue when we open them. Headquarters must have known the method when they assigned us and ordered the equipment."

Koa stood up. He was the only one who could have moved upright against the terrific deceleration. He walked to a rack at one side of the squadroom and took down a copy of "The Space Navigator." Then, resuming his seat, he looked questioningly at Rip. "Anything else, sir? I thought I’d read what there is about asteroids."

"Go ahead," Rip agreed. He sat back as Koa began to recite what data there was, but he didn’t listen. His mind was going ten astro units a second. He thought he knew why he had been chosen for the job. Word of the priceless asteroid must have reached headquarters only a short time before he was scheduled to leave the space platform. He could imagine the speed with which the specialists at Terra base had acted. They had sent orders instantly to the fastest cruiser in the area, the _Scorpius_, to stand by for further instructions. Then their personnel machines must have whirred rapidly, electronic brains searching for the nearest available Planeteer officer with an astrophysics specialty and astrogation training.

He could imagine the reaction when the machine turned up the name of a brand-new lieutenant. But the choice was logical enough. He knew that most, if not all, of the Planeteer astrophysicists were either in high or low space on special work. Chances are there was no astrophysicist nearer than Ganymede. So the choice had fallen to him.

He had a mental image of the Terra base scientists feeding data into the electronic brain, taking the results, and writing fast orders for the men and supplies needed. If his estimate was correct, work at the Planeteer base had been finished within an hour of the time word was received.

When they opened the cases brought aboard by the Martians, he would see that the method of blasting the asteroid into a course for earth was all figured out for him.

Rip was anxious to get at those cases. Not until he saw the method of operation could he begin to figure his course. But there was no possibility of getting at the stuff until brennschluss. He put the problem out of his mind and concentrated on what his men were saying.

"... and he slugged into that asteroid going close to seven AU’s," Santos was saying. The little Filipino corporal shrugged expressively.

Rip recognized the story. 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."

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.

Rip had come across an interesting bit of word knowledge. Spacemen and Planeteers alike had a way of using the phrase, "By Gemini!" Gemini, of course, was the constellation of the Twins, Castor and Pollux. Both were useful stars for astrogation. The Roman horse soldiers of ancient history had sworn, "By Gemini," or "By the Twins." The Romans believed the stars were the famous Greek warriors Castor and Pollux, placed in the heavens after their deaths. In later years, the phrase degenerated to simply "by jiminy" and its meaning had been lost. Now, although few spacemen knew the history of the phrase, they were using it again, correctly.

Other space talk grew out of space itself, and not history. For instance, the worst thing that could happen to a man was to have his helmet broken. Let the transparent globe be shattered and the results were both quick and final. Hence the oft-heard threat, "I’ll bust your bubble."

Speaking of bubbles ... Rip realized suddenly that he and his men would have to live in bubbles and space suits while on the asteroid. None of the minor planets were big enough to have an atmosphere or much gravity.

If only he could get a look into those cases! But the ship was still decelerating and he would have to wait. He put his head against the chair rest and settled down to wait as patiently as he could.

Brennschluss was a long time coming. When the deceleration finally stopped, Rip didn’t wait for gravity. He hauled himself out of the chair and the squadroom and went down the corridor hand over hand. He headed straight for where the supplies were stacked, his Planeteers close behind him.

Commander O’Brine arrived at the same time. "We’re starting to scan for the asteroid," he greeted Rip. "May be some time before we find it."

"Where are we, sir?" Rip asked.

"Just above the asteroid belt near the outer edge. We’re beyond the position where the asteroid was sighted, moving along what the _Altair_ figured as its orbit. I’m not stretching space, Foster, when I tell you we’re hunting for a needle in a junk pile. This part of space is filled with more objects than you would imagine, and they all register on the rad-screens."

"We’ll find it," Rip said confidently.

O’Brine nodded. "Yes. But it probably will take some hunting. Meanwhile, let’s get at those cases. The supply clerk is on his way."

The supply clerk arrived, issued tools to the Planeteers, then opened a plastic case attached to one of the boxes and produced lists. As the Planeteers opened and unpacked the crates, Rip and O’Brine inspected and the clerk checked the items off.

The first case produced a complete chemical cutting unit with an assortment of cutting tips and adapters. Rip looked around for the gas cylinders and saw none. "Something’s wrong," he objected. "Where’s the fuel supply for the torch?"

The supply clerk inspected the lists, shuffled papers, and found the answer.

"The following," he read, "are to be supplied from the _Scorpius_ complement. One landing boat, large, model twenty-eight. Eight each, oxygen cutting unit gas bottles. Four each, chemical cutting unit fuel tanks."

"That’s that," Rip said, relieved. Apparently he was supposed to do a lot of cutting on the asteroid, probably of the thorium itself. The hot flame of the torch could melt any known substance. The torch itself could melt in unskilled hands.

The next case yielded a set of astrogation instruments carefully cradled in a soft, rubbery plastic. Rip left them in the case and put them to one side. As he did so, Sergeant-major Koa let out a whistle of surprise.

"Lieutenant, look at this!"

Corporal Santos exclaimed, "Well stonker me for a stupid space squid! Do they expect us to find any people on this asteroid?"

The object was a portable rocket launcher designed to fire light attack rockets. It was a standard item of fighting equipment for Planeteers.

"I recognize the shape of those cases over there, now," Koa said. "Ten racks of rockets for the launcher, one rack to a case."

Rip scratched his head. He was as puzzled as Santos. Why supply fighting equipment for a crew on an asteroid that couldn’t possibly have any living thing on it?

He left the puzzle for the future and called for more cases. The next two yielded projectile type handguns for ten men, with ammunition, and standard Planeteer space knives. The space knives had hidden blades which were driven forth violently when the operator pushed a thumb lever, releasing the gas in a cartridge contained in the handle. The blades snapped forth with enough force to break a bubble, or to cut through a space suit. They were designed for the sole purpose of space hand-to-hand combat.

The Planeteers looked at each other. What were they up against, that such equipment was needed on a barren asteroid?

Private Dowst opened a box that contained a complete tool kit, the tools designed to be handled by men in space suits. Yards of wire, for several purposes, were wound on reels. Two hand-driven dynamos capable of developing great power were included.

Corporal Pederson found a small case which contained books, the latest astronomical data sheets, and a space computer and scratch board. These were obviously for Rip’s personal use. He examined them. There were all the references he would need for computing orbit, speed, and just about anything else that might be required. He had to admire the thoroughness of whoever had written the order. The unknown Planeteer had assumed that the space cruiser would not have all the astrophysics references necessary and had included a copy of each.

Several large cases remained. Koa ripped the side from one and let out an exclamation. Rip hurried over and looked in. His stomach did a quick orbital reverse. Great Cosmos! The thing was an atomic bomb!

Great Cosmos! It Was An Atomic Bomb!

Commander O’Brine leaned over his shoulder and peered at the lettering on the cylinder. "Equivalent ten KT."

In other words, the explosion the harmless-looking cylinder could produce was equivalent to 10,000 tons of TNT, a chemical explosive no longer in actual use but still used for comparison.

Rip asked huskily, "Any more of those things?" The importance of the job was becoming increasingly clear to him. Nuclear explosives were not used without good reason. The fissionable material was too valuable for other purposes.

The sides came off the remaining cases. Some of them held fat tubes of conventional rocket fuel in solid form, the detonators carefully packed separately.

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. He tugged at his ear. "You could dump me on that asteroid with this assortment of junk and I’d spend the rest of my life there. I don’t see how you can use this stuff to move an asteroid!"

"Maybe that’s why the Federation sent Planeteers," Rip said, and was sorry the moment the words were out.

O’Brine’s jaw muscles bulged, but he held his temper. "I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, Foster. We have to get along until the asteroid is safely in an orbit around earth. After that, I’m going to take a great deal of pleasure in feeding you to the spacefish, piece by piece."

It was Rip’s turn to get red. "I’m sorry, Commander. Accept my apologies." He certainly had a lot to learn about space etiquette. Apparently there was a time for spacemen and Planeteers to fight each other, and a time for them to cooperate like friends. He hoped he’d catch on after a while.

"I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out what to do with this stuff," O’Brine said. "If you need help, let me know."

And Rip knew his apology was accepted.

The deputy commander arrived, drew O’Brine aside, and whispered in his ear. The commander let out an exclamation and started out of the room. At the door he turned. "Better come along, Foster."

Rip followed as the commander led the way to his own quarters. At the door, two space officers were waiting, their faces grave.

O’Brine motioned them to chairs. "All right. Let’s have it."

The senior space officer held out a sheet of flimsy. It was pale blue, the color used for highly confidential documents. "Sir, this came in Space Council special cipher."

"Read it aloud," O’Brine ordered.

"Yessir. It’s addressed to you, this ship. From Planeteer Intelligence, Marsport. ’Consops cruiser departed general direction your area. Agents report crew _Altair_ may have leaked data re asteroid. Take appropriate action.’ It’s signed ’Williams, SOS, Commanding.’"

Rip saw the meaning of the message instantly. The Consolidation of People’s Governments of earth, traditional enemies and rivals of the Federation of Free Governments, needed radioactive minerals as badly, or worse, than the Federation. In space it was first come, first take. They had to find the asteroid quickly. It was to prevent Consops from knowing of the asteroid that security measures had been taken. They hadn’t worked, because of loose space chatter at Marsport.

O’Brine issued quick orders. "Now, get this. We have to work fast. Accelerate fifty percent, same course. I want two men on each screen. If anything of the right size shows up, decelerate until we can get mass and albedo measurements. Snap to it."

The space officers started out, but O’Brine stopped them. "Use one long-range screen for scanning high space toward Mars. Let me know the minute you get a blip, because it probably will be that Consops cruiser. Have the missile ports cleared for action."

Rip’s eyes opened. Clear the missile ports? That meant getting the cruiser in fighting shape, ready for instant action. "You wouldn’t fire on that Consops cruiser, would you, sir?"

O’Brine gave him a grim smile. "Certainly not, Foster. It’s against orders to start anything with Consops cruisers. You know why. The situation is so tense that a fight between two space ships might plunge earth into war." His smile got even grimmer. "But you never know. The Consops ship might fire first. Or an accident might happen."

The commander leaned forward. "We’ll find that asteroid for you, Mr. Planeteer. We’ll put you on it and see you on your way. Then we’ll ride space along with you, and if any Consops thieves try to take over and collect that thorium for themselves, they’ll find Kevin O’Brine waiting. That’s a promise, boy."

Rip felt a lot better. He sat back in his chair and regarded the commander with mixed respect and something else. Against his will, he was beginning to like the man. No doubt of it, the _Scorpius_ was well named. And the sting in the scorpion’s tail was O’Brine himself.

CHAPTER DIVE - THE SMALL GRAY WORLD

Rip rejoined his Planeteers in the supply room and motioned for them to gather around him. "I know why Terra base sent us the fighting equipment," he announced. "They were afraid word of this thorium asteroid would leak out to Consops—and it has. A Connie cruiser blasted off from Marsport and headed this way."

He watched the faces of his men carefully, to see how they would take the news. They merely looked at each other and shrugged. Conflict with Consops was nothing new to them.

"The freighter that found the asteroid landed at Marsport, didn’t it?" Koa asked. Getting a nod from Rip, he went on, "Then I know what probably happened. The two things spacemen can’t do are breathe high vack and keep their mouths shut. Some of the crew blabbed about the asteroid, probably at the Space Club. That’s where they hang out. The Connies hang out there, too. Result, we get a Connie cruiser after the asteroid."

"You hit it," Rip acknowledged.

Corporal Santos shrugged. "If the Connies try to take the asteroid away, they’ll have a real warm time. We have ten racks of rockets, twenty-four to a rack. That’s a lot of snapper-boats we can pick off if they try to make a landing."

The Planeteers stopped talking as the voice horn sounded. "Get it! We are going into no-weight. Prepare to stay in no-weight indefinitely. Rotation stops in two minutes."

Rip realized why the order was given. The _Scorpius_ could not maneuver while in a gravity spin and O’Brine wanted to be free to take action if necessary.

The voice horn came on again. "Now get it again. The ship may maneuver suddenly. Prepare for acceleration or deceleration without warning. One minute to no-weight."

Rip gave quick orders. "Get lines around the equipment and prepare to haul it. I’ll get landing boats assigned and we can load. Then prepare space packs. Lay out suits and bubbles. We want to be ready the moment we get the word."

Lines were taken from a locker and secured to the equipment. As the Planeteers worked, the ship’s spinning slowed and stopped. They were in no-weight. Rip grabbed for a hand cord that hung from the wall and hauled himself out into the engine control room. The deputy commander was at his post, waiting tensely for orders. Rip thrust against a bulkhead with one foot and floated to his side. "I need two landing boats, sir," he requested. "One stays on the asteroid with us."

"Take numbers five and six. I’ll assign a pilot to bring number five back to the ship after you’ve landed."

"Thank you." Rip would have been surprised at the deputy’s quick assent if Commander O’Brine hadn’t shown him that the spacemen were ready to do anything possible to aid the Planeteers. He went back to the supply room and told Koa which boats were to be used, instructed him to get the supplies aboard, then made his way to Commander O’Brine’s office.

O’Brine was not in. Rip searched and found him in the astro-plot room, watching a ’scope. Green streaks called "blips" marked the panel, each one indicating an asteroid.

"All too small," O’Brine said. "We’ve only seen two large ones, and they were too large."

"Space is certainly full of junk," Rip commented. "At least this corner of it is full."

A junior space officer overheard him. "This is nothing. We’re on the edge of the asteroid belt. Closer to the middle, there’s so much stuff a ship has to crawl through it."

Rip wandered over to the main control desk. A senior space officer was seated before a simple panel on which there were only a dozen small levers, a visiphone, and a radar screen. The screen was circular, with numbers around the rim like those on an earth-clock. In the center of the screen was a tiny circle. The central circle represented the Scorpius. The rest of the screen was the area dead ahead. Rip watched and saw several blips on it that indicated asteroids. They were all small. He watched, interested, as the cruiser overtook them. Once, according to the screen, the cruiser passed under an asteroid with a clearance of only a few hundred feet.

"You didn’t miss that one by much," Rip told the space officer.

"Don’t have to miss by much," he retorted. "A few feet are as good as a mile in space. Our blast might kick them around a little, and maybe there’s a little mutual mass attraction, but we don’t worry about it."

He pointed to a blip that was just swimming into view, a sharp green point against the screen. "We do have to worry about that one." He selected a lever and pulled it toward him.

Rip felt sudden weight against his feet. The green point on the screen moved downward below center. The feeling of weight ceased. He knew what had happened, of course. Around the hull of the ship, set in evenly spaced lines, were a series of blast holes through which steam was fired. The steam was produced instantly by running water through the heat coils of the nuclear engine. By using groups or combinations of steam tubes, the control officer could move the ship in any direction or set it rolling, spin it end over end or whirl it in an eccentric pattern.

"How do you decide which tubes to use?" Rip asked.

"Depends on what’s happening. If we were ducking missiles from an enemy, I’d get orders from the commander. But to duck asteroids, there’s no problem. I go over them by firing the steam tubes along the bottom of the ship. That way, you feel the acceleration on your feet. If I fired the top tubes the ship would drop out from under those who were standing. They’d all end up on the ceiling."

Rip watched for a while longer, then wandered back to Commander O’Brine. He was getting anxious. At first, the task of capturing an asteroid and moving it back to earth had been rather unreal, like some of the problems he had worked out while training on the space platform. Now he was no longer calm about it. He had faith in the Terra base Planeteer specialists, but they couldn’t figure everything out for him. Most of the problems of getting the asteroid back to earth would have to be solved by Lieutenant Richard Ingalls Peter Foster.

A junior space officer suddenly called, "Sir, I have a reading at two seventy degrees, twenty-three degrees eight minutes high."

Commander O’Brine jumped up so fast that the action shot him to the ceiling. He kicked down again and leaned over the officer’s ’scope. Rip got there by pulling himself right across the top of the chart table.

The green point of light on the ’scope was bigger than any other he had seen.

"It’s about the right size," O’Brine said. There was excitement in his voice. "Correct course. Let’s take a look at it."

All hands gripped something with which to steady themselves as the cruiser spun swiftly onto the new course. The control officer called, "I have it centered, sir. We’ll reach it in about an hour at this speed."

"Jack it up," O’Brine ordered. "Heave some neutrons into it. Double speed, then decelerate to reach it in thirty minutes."

The control officer issued orders to the engine control room. In a moment acceleration plucked at them. O’Brine motioned to Rip. "Come on, Foster. Let’s see what Analysis makes of this rock."

Rip followed the commander to the deck below where the technical analysts were located. His heart was pounding a little faster than usual, and not from acceleration, either. He found himself wetting his lips frequently and thought, "Get hold of it, boy. You got nothing to worry about but high vacuum."

He didn’t really believe it. There would be plenty to worry about. Like detonating nuclear bombs and trying to figure their blast reaction. Like figuring out the course that would take them closest to the sun without pulling them into it. Like a thousand things—all of them up to him.

The chief analyst greeted them. "We got the orders to change course, Commander. That gave us the location of the asteroid. We’re already working on it."

"Anything yet?"

"No, sir. We’ll have the albedo measurement in a few minutes. It will take longer to figure the mass."

The asteroid’s efficiency in reflecting sunlight was its albedo. The efficiency depended on the material of which it was made. The albedo of pure metallic thorium was known. If the asteroid’s albedo matched it, that would be one piece of evidence.

In the same way, the mass of thorium was known. The measurements of the asteroid were being taken. They would be compared with a chunk of thorium of the same size. If it worked out, that would be evidence enough.

Commander O’Brine motioned to chairs. "Might as well sit down while we’re waiting, Foster." He took one of the chairs and looked closely at Rip. Suddenly he grinned. "I thought Planeteers never got nervous."

"Who’s nervous?" Rip retorted, then answered his own question truthfully. "I am. You’re right, sir. The closer we get, the more scared I get."

"That’s a good sign," O’Brine replied. "It means you’ll be careful. Got any real doubts about the job?"

Rip thought it over and didn’t think so. "Not any real ones. I think we can do it. But I’m nervous just the same. Great Cosmos, Commander! This is my first assignment, and they give me a whole world to myself and tell me to bring it home. Maybe it isn’t a very big world, but that doesn’t change things much."

O’Brine chuckled. "I never expected to get an admission like that from a Planeteer."

"And I," Rip retorted, "never expected to make one like that to a spaceman."

The chief analyst returned, a sheet of computations in his hand. "Report, sir. The albedo measurement is correct. Looks like this may be the one."

"How long before we get the measurements and comparisons?"

"Ten minutes, perhaps."

Rip spoke up. "Sir, there’s some data I’ll need."

"What, Lieutenant?" The chief analyst pulled a notebook from his pocket.

"I’ll need all possible data on the asteroid’s speed, orbit, and physical measurements. I have to figure a new orbit and what it will take to blast the mass into it."

"We’ll get those. The orbit will not be exact, of course. We have only two reference points. But I think we’ll come pretty close."

O’Brine nodded. "Do what you can, Chief. And when Foster gets down to doing his calculations, have your men run them through the electronic computer for him."

Rip thanked them both, then stood up. "Sir, I’m going back to my men. I want to be sure everything is ready. If there’s a Connie cruiser headed this way, we don’t want to lose any time."

"Good idea. I think we’ll dump you on the asteroid, Foster, and then blast off. Not too far, of course. Just enough to lead the Connie away from you if its screen picks us up."

That sounded good to Rip. "We’ll be ready when you are, sir."

The chief analyst took less than the estimated ten minutes for his next set of figures. Commander O’Brine called personally while Rip was still searching for the right landing boat ports. The voice horn bellowed, "Get it! Lieutenant Foster. The mass measurements are correct. This is your asteroid. Estimated twelve minutes before we reach it. Your data will be ready by the time you get back here. Show an exhaust!"

Rip found Koa and the men and asked the sergeant-major for a report.

"We’re ready, sir," Koa told him. "We can get out in three minutes. It will take us that long to get into space gear. Your stuff is laid out, sir."

"Get me the books and charts from the supplies," Rip directed. "Have Santos bring them to the chief analyst. I’m going back and figure our course. No use doing it the hard way on the asteroid when I can do it in a few minutes here with the ship’s computer."

He turned and hurried back, hauling himself along by handholds. The ship had stopped acceleration and was at no-weight again. As he neared the analysis section it went into deceleration, but the pressure was not too bad. He made his way against it easily.

The chief analyst was waiting for him. "We have everything you need, Lieutenant, except the orbital stuff. We’ll do the best we can on that and have a good estimate in a few minutes. Meanwhile, you can mark up your figures. Incidentally, what power are you going to use to move the asteroid?"

"Nuclear explosions," Rip said, and saw the chief’s eyes pop. He added, "With conventional chemical fuel for corrections."

He felt rising excitement. The whole ship seemed to have come to life. There was excited tension in the computer room when he went in with the chief. Spacemen, all mathematicians, were waiting for him. As the chief led him to a table, they gathered around him.

Rip took command. "Here’s what we’re after. I need to plot an orbit that will get us out of the asteroid belt without any collisions, take us as close to the sun as possible without having it capture us, and land us in space about ten thousand miles from earth. From then on I’ll throw the asteroid into a braking ellipse around the earth and I’ll be able to make any small corrections necessary."

He spread out a solar system chart and marked in the positions of the planets as of that moment, using the daily almanac. Then he put down the position of the asteroid, taking it from the paper the chief analyst handed him.

"Will you make assignments, Chief?"

The chief shook his head. "Make them yourself, Lieutenant. We’re at your service."

Rip felt a little ashamed of some of the unkind things he had said about spacemen. "Thank you." He pointed to a spaceman. "Will you calculate the inertia of the asteroid, please?" The spaceman hurried off.

"First thing to do is plot the orbit as though there were no other bodies in the system," Rip said. "Where’s Santos?"

"Here, sir." The corporal had come in unnoticed with Rip’s reference books.

Rip had plotted orbits before, but never one for actual use. His palms were wet as he laid it out, using prepared tables. When he had finished he pointed to a spaceman. "That’s it. Will you translate it into analogue figures for the computer, please?" He assigned to others the task of figuring out the effect Mercury, the sun, and earth would have on the orbit, using an assumed speed for the asteroid.

To the chief analyst he gave the job of putting all the data together in proper form for feeding to the electronic brain.

It would have taken all spacemen present about ten days to complete the job by regular methods, but the electronic computer produced the answer in three minutes.

"Thanks a million, Chief," Rip said. "I’ll be calling on you again before this is over." He tucked the sheets into his pocket.

"Any time, Lieutenant. We’ll keep rechecking the figures as we go along. If there are any corrections, we’ll send them to you. That will give you a check on your own figures."

"Don’t worry," Rip assured him. "We’ll have plenty of corrections."

Deceleration had been dropping steadily. It ceased altogether, leaving them weightless. O’Brine’s voice came over the speaker. "Get it! Valve crews take stations at landing boats five and six. The Planeteers will depart in five minutes. Lieutenant Foster will report to central control if he cannot be ready in that time."

Santos grinned at Rip. "Here we go, Lieutenant."

Rip’s heart would have dropped into his shoes if there had been any gravity. Only a little excitement showed on his face, though. He waved his thanks at the analysts and grinned back at Santos.

"Show an exhaust, Corporal. High vack is waiting!"