"Come, now," MacFife burred soothingly. "Checking a few instruments won't hurt ye."
A small rocket exhaust appeared, leaving the Aquila. The exhaust grew rapidly, more rapidly than that of any snapper-boat. Rip watched it, while keeping his ears tuned to the space conversation.
"Surely sending boats is too much of a nuisance," the French commander said winningly. "We will come alongside."
"It's a trick," the Connie growled. "You want me to open my valves, and then your men will board us and try to take over my ship!"
"My friend, you have a suspicious mind," Galliene replied smoothly. "If you wish, arm your men. Ours will have no weapons. Train launchers on the valves, so our men will be annihilated before they can board if you see a single weapon."
This was going a little far, Rip thought, but it was not his affair, and he didn't know exactly what MacFife and Galliene had in mind.
The Aquila's boat arrived with astonishing speed. Rip saw it flash in the sunlight and knew he had never seen one like it before. It was a perfect globe, about twenty feet in diameter. Blast holes covered the globe at intervals of six feet.
The boat settled to the asteroid, and a new voice called over the helmet circuit, "Where's Foster? Show an exhaust! We're in a rush."
"Yes, sir."
He hurried to the boat and stood there, bewildered. He didn't know how to get in.