Rip Foster in Ride the Gray Planet - Cover

Rip Foster in Ride the Gray Planet

Public Domain

Chapter 9: Repel Invaders!

The snapper-boats came out of the darkness of space, leaving a glowing trail of fire. They were not graceful. Rip could see no beauty in their lines, but to his professional eye there was plenty of deadly efficiency.

The Connie fighting craft looked like three globes strung evenly on a steel tube. The middle globe was larger than the end ones, and it was transparent. From it projected the barrels of two kinds of weapons--explosive and ultrasonic. Five men usually rode in the middle ball. One piloted. The other four were gunners.

The end globes were pierced by five large holes. They were blast tubes for the rocket exhaust. Unlike the landing boats, each tube did not have its own fuel supply. One fuel tank served each globe. The pilot could direct the exhaust through any tube or combination of tubes he wished, by operating valves that either sealed or opened the vents. The system gave high maneuverability to the boats. By playing on the controls with the skill of an organist, the pilot could shift direction with dazzling speed.

Snapper-boats used by the Federation operated on the same principle, but they were of American design, and they showed the Americans’ love of clean lines. Federation fighter craft were slim and streamlined, even though the streamlining was of no use whatever in space. With blast holes at each end, they looked like double-ended needles. The pilot’s canopy in the center controlled guns that fired through the front only. Rear guns were handled by a gunner, who sat with back to the pilot.

Where Connie snapper-boats carried five men, the Federation boats carried two. The Connies could fire in any direction. The Federation pilots aimed by pointing the snapper-boat itself, as fighter pilots of conventional aircraft had once aimed their guns.

Rip watched the boats approach. He was ready to duck inside if they decided to look the asteroid over before landing. He hoped they wouldn’t catch sight of his two scouts. He also hoped his nervousness would vanish when the fight started. He knew what to do, at least in theory. He had gone through combat problems on the moon during training. But this was different. This was real. The lives of his men depended on his being right, and he was afraid of making a wrong decision.

Sergeant Major Koa, an experienced Planeteer with true understanding, came and stood beside him. He said, “Guess I’ll never get over being jittery while waiting for the fight to start. I’m sweating so hard my dehumidifier is humming like a Callistan honey lizard. But it doesn’t last long once the shooting begins. I get so busy I forget to be jittery.”

Before Rip could reply, the snapper-boats flashed over the cave, circled the asteroid once, and landed on the dark side, close to the bomb craters.

The first scout reported. “Santos, sir. I’m fifty yards beyond the stakes where we had the first base. The snapper-boats landed between the first two craters. Men coming out of one boat. I count six. Now they’re coming out of the other boat, but I can’t see very well.”

The other scout picked up the report, his voice thick with excitement. “I can see them, sir! By Cosmos! There are seven in this boat on my side. I am behind a rock forty yards to sunward of the second crater.”

Rip turned up the volume of his communicator. “How are they armed? Santos, report.”

“One has a chatter gun. The rest have nothing.”

“Pederson, report.”

“No weapons I can see, sir.”

Koa looked at Rip. “They must think the asteroid is clean. Otherwise they’d have more than a chatter gun in sight. You can bet they have knives and pistols, too.”

Rip had been playing with an idea. He tried it on his men. “These Connies would be useful to us alive, if we could capture them.”

Dowst caught his meaning first. “As hostages, sir?”

“That’s it. If we could capture them, the Connie cruiser would be helpless. We could use the snapper-boat radios to warn the ship that any false move would mean harm to their men.”

Koa shook his head doubtfully. “I’m not sure the Connies worry about their men, but it’s worth the try. We can capture some of them if they split up to search the asteroid. But we won’t be able to sneak up on them all.”

“We have an advantage,” Rip reminded them. “We’ve been on the asteroid longer. We know our way around, and we’re used to space walking. They’ve just come out of deceleration, and they won’t have their space legs yet.”

Santos reported. “They’re breaking up into groups of two. Three are guarding the snapper-boats. One is the man with the chatter gun.”

“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. Nunez and Bradshaw stay here to guard the cave. If they arrive in twos, let them get into the cave before you jump them. Bradshaw, how do you feel?”

“I’m all right, Lieutenant.”

Rip admired the Planeteer’s nerve. He knew Bradshaw was in pain, because bleeding into high vacuum was always painful. The crack in the Englishman’s helmet had let most of the air out, and his own blood pressure had done the rest. He would carry the marks for days. A few more moments, and all air and all heat would have been gone, with fatal results. Fortunately, bubbles didn’t shatter easily when cracked. To destroy them took a good blow.

“All right. Let’s travel. Koa, go right. I’ll go the other way, and we’ll work around the asteroid until we meet.”

Rip led the way, gliding as rapidly as he could toward the edge of darkness. He called, “Santos. Anyone coming in the direction of the cave?”

“Two pairs. About fifty yards apart. They will be out of my sight in a few seconds.”

That meant they would be within sight of Rip and the others. He knew Koa had heard the message, too. Both groups put on more speed and reached the safety of darkness. “Get down,” Rip ordered. They could still be seen, if silhouetted against the edge of sunlight.

Starlight gave a little light, but it was too faint to help much. Rip’s plan was that the Connies would supply the light needed for an attack.

In a few seconds, as Santos had predicted, belt light beams cut sharp paths through the darkness. Rip sized up the possibilities. There were two teams of two men each, and they were getting farther apart with each step. One team was coming almost directly toward them. The other two men slanted away from them and would soon be out of sight behind the thorium crystals in which the cave was located. Fortunately, the Connies were going away from the cave.

A Connie from the nearby team swung his beam back and forth, and it cut space over their heads. Rip saw a few low pyramids of thorium a few rods away. Quickly he ordered, “Dowst, hang on to my boots. Dominico, hang on to Dowst’s boots.”

He lay face down on the metal ground until he felt hands grip his boots, then he asked, “All set?”

Two voices answered, “Ready.”

Rip put his gloves on the ground, then heaved forward and slightly upward to overcome his inertia and that of his men. The trio moved slowly, almost parallel with the surface. Once or twice Rip reached down to a convenient crystal and put his strength into changing course and altitude. Those were the only times when he felt the tug of his men.

He reached the first pyramid of thorium and directed, “Get behind these rocks and stay down. Feel your way. Use me for a guide. I’ll hold on until you’re under cover.” He gripped a crystal. “Come on.”

Dominico pulled himself along Dowst’s prone form and then along Rip’s. When Dominico had reached the shelter of the crystals, Dowst crawled along, with Rip’s body for his guide, passed over him, and reached cover. Rip followed.

The belt lights of the two Connies were almost abreast of them. Far to their left, Rip saw another pair of lights. That was a pair he hadn’t seen before.

“We’ll wait until they pass,” he told his men. “Then we’ll get up and rush them from behind. They can’t hear us coming. Dowst, you take the near one. I’ll take the far one. Dominico, you help as needed, but concentrate on cutting off their equipment. The first thing we must do is cut their communicators; otherwise they’ll warn the rest. Then turn off their air supplies and collapse their suits.”

One thing was in their favor. The space suits worn by the Connies were almost the same as theirs. The controls were of the same kind. The only way to know a Connie was by his bubble, which was a little more tubular than the round bubbles of the Federation.

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