Chapter 8: Duck--or Die!

Sergeant Major Koa’s great frame loomed in front of Rip. “Think they’ve spotted us, sir?”

Rip hated to say it. “Probably. Koa, can you estimate from the exhaust how far away they are?”

“Not very well, Lieutenant. From the position of the streak, I’d say they’re decelerating.”

The Planeteers looked at Rip. He was in command, and they expected him to do something about the situation. Rip didn’t know what to do. The rocket launcher, their only weapon, wasn’t designed for fighting spaceships. It was useful against snapper-boats and people, but firing at a cruiser would be like sending mosquitoes to fight elephants.

He sized up their position. For one thing, they were right out in the open, exposed to anything the Connie cruiser might throw at them. If they could get under cover, there might be a chance. At least it would take the Connies a while to find them.

For a moment he thought of hurrying into the landing boat and sending out a call for help to the Scorpius, but he thought better of it. They weren’t certain that Connie had spotted them. He would wait until there was no doubt. Meanwhile, they had to find cover.

His searching eyes fell on the cutting torch. If they could use that to cut themselves right into the asteroid ... Suddenly he knew how it could be done. On the sun side he remembered a series of high-piled, giant crystals of thorium. They could cut into the side of one of those. And with Kemp’s skill, they might be able to do it in time.

He called, “Kemp, Koa, bring the torch and fuel and follow me.”

In his haste he took a misstep and flew headlong a few feet above the metal surface. Koa, gliding along behind him, turned him upright again. He saw that the sergeant major was grinning. Rip grinned back. It was the second time he had lost his footing.

They reached the peaks of thorium, and Rip looked them over. The tallest was perhaps forty feet high. It was roughly pyramidal, with a base about sixty feet thick. It would do.

“Kemp.” The private hurried to his side. “Take the torch and make us a cave. Make it big enough for the entire crew and the equipment.”

Kemp was a good Planeteer. He didn’t stop to ask questions. He said, “I’ll make a small entrance and open the cave out inside.” He picked up the torch and got busy.

Rip smiled. The Planeteer was right. He should have thought of it himself, but it was good to see increasing proof that his men were smart as well as tough and disciplined.

“Bring up all supplies,” he told Koa. “Move the boat over here, too. We won’t be able to bury that, but we want it close by.” He had an idea for their boat. It was able to maneuver infinitely faster than the big cruiser. They could put the supplies in the cave, then take to the boat, depending on its ability to turn quickly and on Dowst’s skill at piloting to play hide and seek. Dowst certainly could keep the asteroid between them and the cruiser.

The plan would fail when the cruiser sent a landing party. They would certainly come in snapper-boats, and those deadly little fighting craft could blast rings around the landing boat. The snapper-boats had gotten their name because fast acceleration and quick changes of position could snap a man right out of his seat if he forgot to buckle his harness tightly.

The solution would be to keep the landing boat close to the asteroid. At the first sign of a landing party, they would take to the cave, using the rocket launcher as a defense.

The supplies began to arrive. The Planeteers towed them two crates at a time in a steady line of hurrying men.

Kemp’s torch sent an incandescent knife three feet into the metal at each cut. He was rapidly slicing out a cave. He cut the metal out in great triangular bars, angling the torch from first one side, then the other.

Koa came and stood beside Rip. “I haven’t seen the Connie’s exhaust for a while, sir. They’ve probably stopped decelerating. We can’t see them at all.”

“Meaning what?” Rip asked. He thought he knew, but he wanted Koa’s opinion.

“They’re in free fall now, sir. That could mean they’re just hunting in the area. Or it could mean that they’ve stopped somewhere close by. They could be looking us over right now, for all we know.”

Rip surveyed the stars. “If that’s so, they’re not too close, Koa. Otherwise they’d block out a patch of stars.”

“Well, sir--” Koa hesitated. “I mean, if you were looking over this asteroid, and you weren’t sure whether the enemy had it or not, how close would you get?”

“Probably about one AU,” Rip said jokingly. That was one astronomical unit, equal to about ninety-three million miles, the distance from Earth to the sun.

“That’s a safe distance, sir,” Koa agreed with a grin.

“But let’s suppose the Connie isn’t as timid as I am,” Rip went on. “He might be only a few miles out. The question is, would he wait to get closer before launching his snapper-boats?”

The tall officer answered frankly, “I’ve never been in a space grab like this. I don’t know the answer.”

“We’ll soon know,” Rip replied grimly. A thought had just struck him. The Scorpius had trouble finding the asteroid because it was just one of many sailing along through the belt. But now the asteroid was the only one traveling across the belt. It would make an outstanding blip on any radarscope. It wasn’t possible that the Connie cruiser had missed the blip and its significance.

“The Connie may be looking us over,” Rip added, “but I’ll tell you one thing. He knows we’ve taken the asteroid.”

Koa looked wistfully at the atomic bomb which remained. “If we had a way to throw that thing at them...”

“But we haven’t. And the thing wouldn’t explode, anyway. We don’t have the outside casing with an exploder mechanism, so it has to be turned on electrically.” Rip could see no way to use the atomic bomb against the Connies. It was too big for use against a landing party. Besides, it would put the Planeteers themselves in danger.

“Ever have trouble with the Connies before?” he asked Koa.

“More’n once, sir. Sometimes it seems like I’ll never get a job where I don’t have to fight Connies.”

Rip was trained in science and Planeteer techniques, and he didn’t pretend to know the ins and outs of interplanetary politics. Just the same, he couldn’t help wondering about the strange relationship between the Consolidation of People’s Governments and the Federation of Free Nations.

Connies and Feds, mostly Planeteers but sometimes spacemen, were constantly skirmishing. They fought over property, over control of ports on distant planets and moons, and over space salvage. Often there was bloodshed. Sometimes there were pitched battles between groups of platoon size.

But at that point the struggle ended. The law of the Federation said that no spaceship could fire on a Connie spaceship or on Connie land bases, except with special permission of the Space Council. The theory was that brief struggles between men, or even between small fighting craft like the snapper-boats, was not war. But firing on a spaceship was considered an act of war, and the first such act could mean the beginning of a war throughout the entire solar system.

It made a sort of sense to Rip when he thought about it. Little fights here and there were better than a full war among the planets.

Koa suddenly gripped his arm. “Sir! Look up!”

The short hairs on the back of Rip’s neck prickled. Far above, blackness in the shape of a spaceship blotted out stars. The Connie had arrived!

Rip ordered urgently, “Kemp! Stop cutting! The rest of you get the stuff under cover. Ram it!” He hurried to lend a hand himself, hustling crates into the cave.

Kemp had made astonishing progress. There was room for the crates, if stacked properly, and for the men, besides. Rip supervised the stacking and then the placement of the rocket launcher at the entrance.

“All hands inside the boat,” he ordered. “Dowst, be ready to take off at a moment’s notice. You’ll have to buck this box around as never before.” He explained to the pilot his plan to dodge, keeping the asteroid between the boat and the cruiser.