ollow-sounding from reverberations in the snapper-boat pilot's helmet.

"_O'Brine is so ugly he won't look at his face in a clean blast tube!
That no-good Irishman wouldn't know what to do with an asteroid if he had
one!_"

The commander turned purple with rage. He bellowed, "Foster!"

A junior space officer hid a grin and murmured, "Looks like the
Planeteers still have the asteroid."

O'Brine bent over the communicator and yelled, "Deputy commander! Launch
landing boats. Get those Planeteers and bring them here under armed
guard. Ram it!"

The snapper-boat pilot through whose circuit Rip had yelled turned to
look wide-eyed at his gunner. "Did you hear that? Throw a light down on
the asteroid. It must have come from there."

The gunner threw a switch, and a searchlight port opened in the boat's
belly. Its beam searched downward, swept past, then steadied on two
space-suited figures.

"It worked," Rip said tiredly. He closed his eyes to guard them against
the brilliant glare, then waved his good arm.

Santos called from the cave entrance. "Sir, landing boats are being
launched!"

"Bring out the prisoners," Rip ordered. "Line them up. Planeteers fall in
behind them."

The landing boats, with snapper-boats in watchful attendance, blasted
down to the surface of the asteroid. Spacemen jumped out, awkward at
first on the no-weight surface. An officer glided to meet Rip, and he had
a pistol in his hand.

"It's all right," Rip told him. "The Connies are our prisoners. You won't
need guns."

The spaceman snapped, "You're under arrest."

Rip stared incredulously. "What for?"

"The commander's orders. Don't give me any arguments. Just get aboard."

"I can't argue with a loaded gun," Rip said wearily. He called to his
men. "We're under arrest. I don't know why. Don't try to resist. Do as
the spacemen order."

Rip got aboard the nearest landing boat, his head spinning. O'Brine had
made a mistake of some kind.

The landing boats, loaded with Planeteers and Connies, lifted from the
asteroid to the cruiser. They slid smoothly into the air locks and
settled. The massive lock doors slid closed and lights flickered on. Rip
waited, trying to keep consciousness from slipping away.

The lock gauges registered normal air, and the inner valves slid open.
Commander O'Brine stepped through, his square jaw outthrust and his face
flushed with anger. He bellowed, "Where's Foster?"

His voice was so loud that Rip heard him e