Bradshaw's face was scarlet, and his skin was flecked with drops of blood. His eyes were closed and bulging horribly.
Rip jumped forward, but Koa was even faster. The Hawaiian jerked a repair strip from a belt pouch and slapped it on the crack in Bradshaw's bubble. Rip wasted no time, either. By the time Koa had the strip in place he had pulled the connection from his belt light. He ran the tips of the wires over the edges of the strip. The current sealed the patch in place instantly.
Koa grabbed the atmosphere control on Bradshaw's belt and turned it. The suit puffed up. Rip watched the repair anxiously in the light from Koa's belt. It held.
Rip reconnected his light as he asked swiftly, "Anyone else hurt? Answer by name."
There were quick replies. No one else had been injured.
"Run for the cave," Rip commanded. "Follow Koa. Santos and Pederson, drag Bradshaw."
The Englishman's voice sounded bubbly. "I can make it."
"Good for you!" Rip exclaimed. "Call if you need help."
Koa was already out of the craft and leading the way. Rip went out through a window and saw the cause of the trouble. Dowst had been a hair too close to the asteroid. A particularly high crystal of thorium had snagged the landing craft.
Rip looked for the Connie and saw it make another turn. They had only a moment or two before the next run. "Show an exhaust!" he called. The Connie must have blasted the opposite side of the asteroid while they were hung up.