The Planeteers
were getting to their feet. His light focused on Private Bradshaw, and he
gasped.

Bradshaw's face was scarlet, and his skin was flecked with drops of
blood. His eyes were closed and bulging horribly.

Rip jumped forward, but Koa was even faster. The Hawaiian jerked a repair
strip from a belt pouch and slapped it on the crack in Bradshaw's bubble.
Rip wasted no time, either. By the time Koa had the strip in place he had
pulled the connection from his belt light. He ran the tips of the wires
over the edges of the strip. The current sealed the patch in place
instantly.

Koa grabbed the atmosphere control on Bradshaw's belt and turned it. The
suit puffed up. Rip watched the repair anxiously in the light from Koa's
belt. It held.

Rip reconnected his light as he asked swiftly, "Anyone else hurt? Answer
by name."

There were quick replies. No one else had been injured.

"Run for the cave," Rip commanded. "Follow Koa. Santos and Pederson, drag
Bradshaw."

The Englishman's voice sounded bubbly. "I can make it."

"Good for you!" Rip exclaimed. "Call if you need help."

Koa was already out of the craft and leading the way. Rip went out
through a window and saw the cause of the trouble. Dowst had been a
hair too close to the asteroid. A particularly high crystal of thorium
had snagged the landing craft.

Rip looked for the Connie and saw it make another turn. They had only a
moment or two before the next run. "Show an exhaust!" he called. The
Connie must have blasted the opposite side of the asteroid while they
were hung up.

The cave was a quarter of the asteroid away. Rip stayed in the rear,
watching for stragglers, but even Bradshaw was moving rapidly. Koa
reached the cave well ahead of the rest, reached for a rack of rockets,
and slapped it into the launcher.

Rip urged the men on. The Connie was squared off for another run.

They catapulted to safety as the cruiser flamed past, the exhaust
splashing over the metal and sending sparks into the cave.

Rip looked out. That, if he had guessed right, was the last run. He
watched the Connie's stern jet cut off, saw the nose exhaust as the
cruiser decelerated to a fast stop.

"Check your weapons," he ordered.

He pulled his pistol from his knee pocket and checked it carefully. There
was a clip in the magazine. Other clips were in his pocket. The clips
were loaded with high velocity shells that exploded on contact. One slug
could stop a Venusian