Chapter 15: The Rocketeers

Rip ran for the snapper-boat, feet moving as rapidly as lack of gravity would permit. He called instructions. “Santos! Turn the launcher over to Pederson and come with me. Koa, take over. Start throwing rockets at that boat, and don’t stop until you run out of ammunition.”

He reached the snapper-boat and squeezed in, Santos close behind him. As he strapped himself into the seat he called, “Koa! Get this, and get it straight. At twenty-three-oh-five, fire the bomb. Fire it whether I’m back or not.”

Koa replied, “Got it, sir.”

That would give the Planeteers a minute’s leeway. Not much of a safety margin, especially when he wasn’t sure how much power the atomic charge would produce.

He plugged into the snapper-boat’s communicator and called, “Ready, Santos?”

“Ready, Lieutenant.”

He braced himself against acceleration and flipped the speed control to full power. The fighting rocket rammed out from the asteroid, snapping him back against the seat. He made a quick check. Gunsight on, fuel tanks almost full, propulsion tubes racked handy to his hand.

They drove toward the enemy cruiser at top speed, swerving in a great arc as the sun pulled at them. The enemy’s big boat was out of the ship, its jets firing.

Rip leaned over his illuminated gunsight. The boat showed up clearly, the rings of the sight framing it. He estimated distance and the pull of the sun, then squeezed the trigger on the speed control handle. The cannon up in the nose spat fire. He watched tensely and saw the charge explode on the hull of the Connie cruiser. He had underestimated the sun’s drag. He compensated and tried again.

He missed. Now that he was closer and the charge had less distance to travel, he had overestimated the sun’s effect. He gritted his teeth. The next shot would be at close range.

The fighting rocket closed space, and the landing boat loomed large in the sight. He fired again, and the shot blew metal loose from the top of the boat’s hull. A hit, but not good enough. He leaned over the sight to fire again, but before he had sighted, an explosion blew the assault boat completely around.

Koa and Pederson had scored a hit from the asteroid!

The big boat fired its side jets and spun around on course again. Flame bloomed from its side as Connie gunners tried to get the range on the snapper-boat.

Rip was within reach now. He fired at point-blank range and flashed over the boat as its front end exploded. Santos, firing from the rear, hit it again.

Rip threw the rocket into a turn that rammed him against the top of his harness. He steadied on a line with the crippled Connie craft. It was hard hit. The bow jets flickered fitfully, and the stern tubes were dead. He sighted, fired. A charge hit the boat aft and blew its stern tubes off completely.

And at the same moment, a Connie gunner got a perfect bead on the snapper-boat.

Space blew up in Rip’s face. The snapper-boat slewed wildly as the Connie shot took effect. Rip worked his controls frantically, trying to straighten the rocket out more by instinct than anything else.

His eyes recovered from the blinding flash, and he gulped as he saw the raw, twisted metal where the boat’s nose had been. He managed to correct the boat’s twisting by using the stern tubes, but he lost full control of the ship.

For a moment panic gripped him. Without full control he couldn’t get back to the asteroid! Then he forced himself to calm down. He sized up the situation. They were still underway, the stern tubes pushing, but their trajectory would take them right under the crippled Connie boat.

There was nothing he could do but pass close to the Connie. The enemy gunners would fire, but he had to take his chances. He looked down at the asteroid and saw an orange trail as Koa launched another rocket.

The shot from the asteroid ticked the bottom of the Connie boat and exploded. The Connie rolled violently. Tubes flared as the pilot fought to correct the roll. He slowed the spinning as Rip and Santos passed, just long enough for a Connie gunner to get in a final shot.

The shell struck directly under Rip. He felt himself pushed violently upward, and, at the same moment, he reacted--by hunch and not by reason. He rammed the controls full ahead, and the dying rocket cut space, curving slowly as flaming fuel spurted from the ruptured tanks.

Rip yelled, “Santos! You all right?”

“I think so. Lieutenant, we’re on fire!”

“I know it. Get ready to abandon ship.”

When the main mass of fuel caught, the rocket would become an inferno. Rip smashed at the escape hatch above his head, grabbed propulsion tubes from the rack, and called, “Now!”

He pulled the release on his harness, stood up on the seat, and thrust with all his leg power. He catapulted out of the burning snapper-boat into space.

Santos followed a second later, and the crippled rocket twisted wildly under the two Planeteers.

“Don’t use the propulsion tubes,” Rip called. “Slow down with your air bottles.” He thrust the tubes into his belt, found his air bottles, and pointed two of them in the direction they had been traveling. He wanted to come to a stop, to let the wild snapper-boat get away from them.

The compressed-air bottles did the trick. He and Santos slowed down as the little jets overcame the inertia that was taking them along with the burning boat. The boat was spiraling now, burning freely. It moved away from them, its stern jets still firing weakly.

Rip took a look toward the enemy cruiser. The assault boat was no longer showing an exhaust. Instead, it was being dragged rapidly away from the Connie cruiser by the pull of the sun. At least it was hit in time to prevent launching of the atomic guided missiles. Or, he thought, perhaps the enemy had never intended using them. The principal effect, besides killing the Planeteers, would have been to drive the asteroid into the sun at an even faster rate.

The enemy assault boat was no longer a menace. Its occupants would be lucky if they succeeded in saving their own lives.

Rip wondered what the Connie cruiser commander would try now. Only one thing remained, and that was to set the cruiser down on the asteroid. If the Connie tried, he would arrive at just about the time set for releasing the nuclear charge. And that would be the end of the cruiser--and probably of the Planeteers as well.

Santos asked coolly, “Lieutenant, wouldn’t you say we’re in a sort of bad spot?”

Rip had been so busy sizing up the situation that he hadn’t thought about his own predicament. Now he looked down and suddenly realized that he was floating free in space, a considerable distance above the asteroid, and with only small propulsion tubes for power.

He gasped, “Great space! We’re in a mess, Santos.”

The corporal asked, still in a calm voice, “How long will it be before we’re dragged into the sun, sir?”

Rip stared. Santos had used the same tone he might have used in asking for a piece of Venusian chru. An officer couldn’t be less calm, so Rip replied in a voice he hoped was casual, “I wouldn’t worry, Santos. We won’t know it. The heat will get through our suits long before then.”

In fact, the heat should be overloading their ventilating systems right now. In a few minutes the cooling elements would break down, and that would be the end. He listened for the accelerated whine as the ventilating systems struggled under the increased heat load but heard nothing.

Funny. Had it overloaded and given out already? No, that was impossible. He would be feeling the heat on his body if that were the case.