except with special permission of the Space Council. The theory was that
small struggles between men, or even between small fighting craft like the
snapper-boats, was not war. But firing on a spaceship was war, and the
first such act could mean starting war throughout the 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
blotted out stars in the shape of a spaceship. 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,
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 like never before."
He explained to the pilot his plan to dodge, keeping the asteroid between
the boat and the cruiser.

"We'll make it, sir," Dowst said.

"I'm not worried," Rip replied, and wished it were true. He looked up at
the Connie again. It was getting larger. The cruiser was within a few
miles of the asteroid.

As Rip watched, fire spurted from the cruiser and it moved with gathering
speed toward the asteroid's horizon. He watched the exhaust trail,
wondering why the Connie had blasted off.

"He has something up his sleeve," Koa muttered. "Wish we knew what."

"Let's take no chances," Rip stated. "Come on."

The men were already in the boat. He and Koa joined them. They stood at a
window, watching the Connie's trail.

The trail dwindled. Koa said, "Something's up!" Suddenly new fire shot
from one side of the cruiser and it spun. Balancing fire came from the
other side, and for an instant the three exhausts formed a cross with the
darkness of the Connie's hull in the center. Then they could see only the
exhausts from the sides. The stern flame was out of sight.

"He's made a full turn to come back this way," Rip stated tensely. "Dowst,
get ready."

The Connie was perhaps 20 miles away. It grew larger, and the side jets
winked out. A few seconds later fire spurted from the nose.

Rip figured rapidly. The cruis