ngular boxes. There was no need for streamlining in the
vacuum of space. They were not pressurized. Only men in space suits rode
in the ungainly boxes.

He checked all blast tubes to make sure they were clear. There were small
single tubes on each side of the craft. A clogged one could explode and
blow the boat up.

Koa, he knew, had checked everything, but the final responsibility was
his. In space, no officer took anyone's word for anything that might mean
lives. Each checked every detail personally.

Rip looked around and saw the Planeteers watching him. There was approval
on the faces behind the clear helmets, and he knew they were satisfied
with his thoroughness.

At last, certain that everything was in good order, he said quietly,
"Pilots, man your boats."

Dowst got into one and a spaceman into the other. Dowst's boat would stay
with them on the asteroid. The spaceman would bring the other back to the
ship.

Commander O'Brine stepped through the valve into the boat lock. A
spaceman handed him a hand communicator. He spoke into it. Rip couldn't
have heard him through the helmet otherwise. "All set, Foster?"

"Ready, sir."

"Good. The long-range screen picked up a blip a few minutes ago. It's
probably that Connie cruiser."

Rip swallowed. The Planeteers froze, waiting for the commander's next
words.

"Our screens are a little better than theirs, so there's a slim chance
they haven't picked us up yet. We'll drop you and get out of here. But
don't worry. We have your orbit fixed, and we'll find you when the
screens are clear."

"Suppose they find us while you're gone?" Rip said.

"It's a chance," O'Brine admitted. "You'll have to take spaceman's
luck on that one. But we won't be far away. We'll duck behind Vesta,
or another of the big asteroids, and hide so their screens won't pick
up our motion. Every now and then we'll sneak out for a look, if the
screen seems clear. If those high-vack vermin do find you, get on the
landing-boat radio and yell for help. We'll come blasting."

He waved a hand, thumb and forefinger held together in the ancient symbol
for "everything right," then ordered, "Get flaming." He stepped through
the valve.

"Clear the lock," Rip ordered. "Open outer valve when ready."

He took a quick, final look around. The pilots were in the boats. His
Planeteers were standing by, safety lines already attached to the boats
and their belts. He moved into position and snapped his own line