had been going on. The four
certainly knew by this time that there were Federal men on the asteroid.
Unless something were done quickly the four Connies would be shooting at
them from the darkness. He ordered, "All Planeteers, kill your belt
lights."

The lights on the Connies they had just taken still glowed. Dowst was
putting a patch on the Connie Rip had stabbed. He waited until the
private had finished, then said, "Turn out the Connies' lights, too."

If he could get in touch with the Connies, he could tell them they were
finished. But using the snapper-boat radios was out, because the enemy
cruiser would hear. The cruiser couldn't hear the helmet communications,
though, because they carried only a short distance. The cruiser was close
enough so that a helmet communicator turned on full volume might barely
be heard, although it was unlikely.

He couldn't stick his head in a Connie helmet, but he could talk to a
Connie by direct communication and have him give instructions.

There was complete darkness with all belt lights out, but he groped his
way to the Connie Dowst had been patching, felt for his helmet, and put
his own against it. He yelled, "Do you hear me?"

"Yes." Then he asked, "Why did you patch me?"

It was a perfect opening. "Because we don't want to kill you. Listen. We
have all but four of you. Understand?"

"Yes. What will you do with us?"

"Treat you as prisoners--if you behave. Get on your communicator and tell
those four men to surrender. Tell them to come to the boats, with lights
on. Tell them we'll give them five minutes. If they don't come, we'll
hunt them with rockets. Make that clear."

"They will come," the Connie said. "They don't want to die. I will do
it."

Rip kept his helmet against the Connie's, but the man spoke in another
language, which Rip identified as the main Consops tongue. When he had
finished, Rip told his Planeteers to have weapons ready and to keep
lights off. Time enough for light when the Connies were all disarmed.

It didn't take five minutes. The Connie teams came quickly and willingly,
and they seemed almost glad to give up their pistols and knives. This was
not unusual. Rip had seen many Planeteer reports that spoke of the same
thing. Many Connies, it seemed, were glad to get away from the iron
Consops rule, even if it meant becoming Federation prisoners.

Inside one of the snapper-boats a light glowed. Rip put his helmet
against that of the man who had