ame thing!
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - BETWEEN TWO FIRES
Back on the asteroid, the Planeteers started laying the second atomic
charge. Rip selected the spot, found a near-by crystal that would serve to
house the bomb, and Kemp started cutting.
The Planeteers knew what to do now, and the work went rapidly. Rip kept an
eye on his chronometer. According to the message from Terra base, he had
about fifteen minutes before the Consops cruiser arrived.
"We have one advantage we didn't have back in the asteroid belt," he
remarked to Koa. "Back there they could have landed anywhere on the rock.
Now they have to stick to the dark side. Snapper-boats could last on the
sun side, but men in ordinary space suits couldn't."
"That's good," Koa agreed. "We have only one side to defend. Why don't we
put the rocket launcher right in the middle of the dark side?"
"Go ahead. And have all men check their pistols and knives. We don't know
what's likely to happen when that Connie flames in."
Rip walked over to the communicator and plugged his suit into the circuit.
"This is the asteroid calling Terra base. Over."
"This is Terra base. Go ahead, Foster. How are you doing?"
"If you need anything cooked, send it to us," Rip replied. "We have heat
enough to cook anything, including tungsten alloy." He explained briefly
what action they had taken.
A new voice came on the communicator. "Foster, this is Colonel Stevens."
Rip responded swiftly, "Yes, sir!" Stevens was the top Planeteer,
commanding officer of all the Special Order Squadrons.
"We've piped this circuit into every channel in the system," the colonel
said. "Every Planeteer in the Squadrons is listening, and rooting for you.
Is there anything we can do?"
"Yes, sir," Rip replied. "Do you know if Terra base has plotted our course
this far?"
There was a brief silence, then the colonel answered, "Yes, Foster. We
have a complete track from the time you started showing on the Terra
screens, about halfway between the orbits of Mars and earth."
"Did you just get our change of direction?"
"Yes. We're following you on the screens."
"Then, sir, I'd appreciate it if you'd put the calculators to work and
make a time-distance plot for the next few hours. The blast we're saving
to push back to safety is about three kilotons. Let us know the last
moment when we can fire and still get free of Sol's gravity."
"You'll have it within fifteen minutes. Anything else, Foster?
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