unted Roger.

"What?"

"Those projectiles. We're right back in the middle of them. Any one of
them could wreck the ship."

"I see what you mean," said Tom. "Guess it's up to Astro to keep dodging
them."

"Never thought I'd be out in space ducking hot projectiles to save old
Blast-off Connel's hide."

"Neither did I," said Tom. "But here we are."

Stepping into the air lock, they quickly equalized the pressure and a
moment later climbed out on the hull.

"See him, Roger?" asked Tom over the helmet intercom.

"Not yet," replied Roger.

"I see him," called Astro from the control deck. "I got him spotted on
the teleceiver. Go aft, about a thousand, maybe fifteen hundred yards.
I'll direct you from there."

"Right!" snapped Roger. "And listen, you Venusian bonehead! Make it
good. I don't like being a clay pigeon for this crazy shooting gallery
out here!"

"Aw, damp your tubes and get to work," drawled Astro. "Honestly, Tom,
did you ever hear him _not_ complain?"

Tom did not answer. He was busy fastening two oxygen tanks to the front
of his space suit and Roger's. When he had finished, he checked the
pressure and, satisfied, nodded to his unit mate.

Opening the nozzles of the bottles, they shot away from the ship into
the nothingness of space.

"You have to go about fifteen degrees to your starboard and five degrees
up on the ecliptic," called Astro from the control deck. "You'll hit
Connel right on the nose!"

"Right!" replied Tom, turning the nozzle of the oxygen bottle to the
left and immediately shooting off in the indicated direction. Roger
followed quickly and expertly.

"See him?" called Tom.

"No," replied Roger. "Are you sure, you big clunk?"

"He's right above you!" snorted Astro over the intercom. Then his voice
rose in alarm. "No! That isn't--"

"Duck, Tom!" cried Roger.

Tom opened the nozzle of his oxygen bottle wide and turned it. As he
shot away, a projectile roared through the area he had just left.

Roger had done the same thing, flipping over and shooting up and away
from the moving object.

"Whew!" exclaimed Tom. "That was close!"

"You blockhead!" roared Roger. "What are you trying to do to us? Set us
up for coffins?"

"For you, that's not a bad idea, Manning!" snorted Astro. "Just damp
your tubes. I made a mistake."

"Some mistake!" growled Roger.

Tom and Roger maneuvered back together, and locking arms so they would
not drift apart, scanned the void around them fo