CHAPTER EIGHT
Duck—or Die!
Sergeant Major Koa's great frame loomed in front of Rip. "Think they've spotted us, sir?"
Rip hated to say it. "Probably. Koa, can you estimate from the exhaust how far away they are?"
"Not very well, Lieutenant. From the position of the streak, I'd say they're decelerating."
The Planeteers looked at Rip. He was in command, and they expected him to do something about the situation. Rip didn't know what to do. The rocket launcher, their only weapon, wasn't designed for fighting spaceships. It was useful against snapper-boats and people, but firing at a cruiser would be like sending mosquitoes to fight elephants.
He sized up their position. For one thing, they were right out in the open, exposed to anything the Connie cruiser might throw at them. If they could get under cover, there might be a chance. At least it would take the Connies a while to find them.
For a moment he thought of hurrying into the landing boat and sending out a call for help to the Scorpius, but he thought better of it. They weren't certain that Connie had spotted them. He would wait until there was no doubt. Meanwhile, they had to find cover.
His searching eyes fell on the cutting torch. If they could use that to cut themselves right into the asteroid.... Suddenly he knew how it could be done. On the sun side he remembered a series of high-piled, giant crystals of thorium. They could cut into the side of one of those. And with Kemp's skill, they might be able to do it in time.
He called, "Kemp, Koa, bring the torch and fuel and follow me."