"Accepted," O'Brine chuckled. "I'm rather sorry I don't have an excuse for dumping you in the space pot, though, Foster. Your explanation is acceptable, but I have a suspicion that you enjoyed calling me names."
"I might have," Rip admitted, "but I wasn't in very good shape. The only thing I could think of was getting into air so I could have my arm treated. Commander, we've moved the asteroid. Now we have to correct course. And we have to get some new equipment, including nuclite shielding. Also, sir, I'd appreciate it if you'd let my men clean up and eat. They haven't been in air since we left the cruiser."
For answer, O'Brine strode to the operating-room communicator. "Get it," he called. "The deputy commander will prepare landing boat one and issue new space suits and helmets for all Planeteers with damaged equipment. Put in two rolls of nuclite. Sergeant Major Koa will see that all Planeteers have an opportunity to clean up and eat. They will return to the asteroid in one hour."
Rip asked, "Will I be able to go into space by then?"
The doctor replied, "Your arm will be normal in about twenty minutes. It will ache some, but you'll have full use of it. We'll bring you back to the ship in about twenty-four hours for another look at it, just to be sure."
Sixty minutes later, clean, fed, and contented, the Planeteers were again on the thorium planet, while the Scorpius, riding the same orbit, stood by a few miles out in space.
The asteroid and the great cruiser arched high above the belt of tiny worlds in the orbit Rip had set, traveling together toward distant Mars.