communicators
were cut off?

"Dowst," he called urgently. "All okay?"

"No," Dowst said grimly. "We got the Connie, but he got Dominico. Cut his
leg with a space knife. I'm putting a patch on it. You okay?"

"Yes. When you can, pull me down."

"Right you are."

Dominico spoke up. "Don't worry about me, sir. Nothing bad. I don't lose
much air."

"Fine, Dominico. Glad it wasn't worse."

But Rip knew it wasn't good, either. A cut with a space knife let air out
of the suit and created at least a partial vacuum. If it also cut flesh,
the vacuum let the blood pressure force out blood and tissue to turn a
minor wound into an ugly one.

They would have to bring this space flap with the Connies to a quick end,
Rip thought. He had to get his men into air somehow, to take a look at
their wounds. Bradshaw needed attention immediately, and now so did
Dominico.

Dowst reached up, took Rip's ankle, and pulled him down. Rip held on to
his captive. Then the private bound the Connie's hands, jerked his
communicator control completely off, and turned his air back on. Since
Rip had been unable to collapse the suit, the Connie was comfortable
enough. The reason for collapsing the suit was to deprive the enemy of
air instantly, so that he could be tied up while helpless from lack of
oxygen. There was enough air in the suit for only a few breaths once the
supply was cut off.

The Connie on the ground was neatly trussed. Rip's prisoner joined him.
Dowst switched off his belt light. "Now what, sir?"

Dominico was standing patiently nearby. He said nothing. Rip knew that no
more could be done for the Italian at present. "Go back to the cave,
Dominico," he ordered.

"I can stay with you, sir."

"No, Dominico. Thanks for the offer, but we'll get along. Go back to the
cave."

"Yes, sir."

Rip was a little worried. He had heard nothing from Koa since that first
exchange. He told Dowst as much. But Koa himself heard and answered.

"Lieutenant, we're all right. Got two Connies, and I don't think they had
a chance to yell. But I'm sorry about one, sir. Kemp had to swing at him
and busted his bubble."

"Fatal?"

"No, we patched it in time. But worse than Bradshaw."

"Tough." Rip couldn't feel too sympathetic.

After all, it was the Connie cruiser's fault Bradshaw had felt high vack.
"All right. We have four. That leaves nine."

Santos came on the circuit. "Sir, this is Santos. Only three men are at
the snapper-boats. If you