Rip tugged frantically at an air bottle in his belt. He pulled it out and used it to whirl him upright again; then its air blast drove him back to the surface of the asteroid. Sweat poured from his forehead, and the suit ventilator whined as it picked up the extra moisture. Great Cosmos! That was close!
Santos fired again, twice, in rapid succession. The Connie snapper-boats scattered as the proximity fuses produced flowers of fire among them. Two near misses, but they threw the enemy off course. Rip watched tensely as the boats fought to regain their course. He knew asteroid, cruiser, and boats were speeding toward the sun at close to fifty miles a second, and the drag was getting terrific. The Connies knew it, too.
There was an exultant yell from the Planeteers as two of the boats gave up and turned back, using full power to regain the safety of the mother ship. Four left!
Santos scored a direct hit on the nose of the nearest one, but its momentum drove it to within a few yards of the asteroid. Five space-suited figures erupted from it, holding hand propulsion units, tubes of rocket fuel used for hand combat in empty space.
The Connies lit their propulsion tubes and drove feet first for the asteroid. The Planeteers estimated where the enemy would land, and they were there waiting, with aimed handguns. The Connies had their hands over their heads, holding the propulsion tubes. They took one look at the gleaming Planeteer guns, and their hands stayed upright.
The Planeteers lashed the Connies' hands behind them with their own safety lines and, at Rip's orders, dumped all but one of them into the crater where Kemp was just finishing his cutting.
Three snapper-boats remained. Rip watched, holding tightly to the arm of the Connie he had kept at his side. The man wore the insignia of an officer.
The remaining snapper-boats were going to make it. Santos threw rockets among them and scored hits, but the boats kept coming. The Connies were too far away from the cruiser to return, and they knew it. Getting to the asteroid was their only chance.
Rip called, "Santos! Cease fire. Set the launcher for ground level. Let them land, but don't fire until I give the word."
He put his helmet against his prisoner's for direct communication. "You speak English?"