wanted to be Planeteers and couldn't pass the intelligence
tests." He winked, then hurried to the air lock.

Spacemen worked quickly to clear the deck of the new supplies, stowing
them in a near-by workroom. Within five minutes the engine control room
was clear. The safety officer signaled and the radiation warning sounded.
Taking off!

Rip hurried to the squadroom and climbed into an acceleration chair. The
other Planeteers were already in the room, most of them in their bunks.
Koa slid into the chair beside him. "Find out anything, sir?"

"Nothing useful. A bunch of equipment came aboard, but it was in plain
crates. I couldn't tell what it was."

Acceleration pressed them against the chairs. Rip sighed, picked up an
audio-circuit set, and put it over his ears. Might as well listen to what
the circuit had to offer. There was nothing else to do. Music was playing,
and it was the kind he liked. He settled back to relax and listen.

Brennschluss came some time later. It woke Rip up from a sound sleep. He
blinked, glancing at his chronometer. Great Cosmos! With that length of
acceleration they must be high-vacking for Jupiter! He waited until the
ship went into the gravity spin, then got out of his chair and stretched.
He was hungry. Koa was still sleeping. He decided not to wake him. The
sergeant-major would see that the men ate when they wanted to.

In the messroom only one table was occupied--by Commander O'Brine.

Rip gave him a civil hello and started to sit alone at another table. To
his surprise, O'Brine beckoned to him.

"Sit down," the spaceman invited gruffly.

Rip did, and wondered what was coming next.

"We'll start to decelerate in about ten minutes," O'Brine said. "Eat while
you can." He signaled and a spaceman brought Rip the day's ration in an
individual plastic carton with thermo-lining. The Planeteer opened it and
found a block of mixed vegetables, a slab of space-meat, and two units of
biscuit. He wrinkled his nose. Space-meat he didn't mind. It was chewy but
tasty. The mixed vegetable ration was chosen for its food value and not
for taste. A good mouthful of earth-grass would be a lot more palatable.
He sliced off pieces of the warm stuff and chewed thoughtfully, watching
O'Brine's face for a clue as to why the commander had invited him to sit
down.

It wasn't long in coming. "Your orders are the strangest things I've ever
read," O'Brine stated. "Do you know where we're going?"

Rip figured