Valve Eight was some distance away. Rip decided a cross ramp would be faster than the moving track. He swung the spack to his shoulder and made his legs go. Seconds were ticking off, and he had an idea the Scorpius would make space on time, whether or not he arrived. He lengthened his stride and rounded a turn by going right up on the wall, using a powerful leg thrust against a ventilator tube for momentum.
He passed an observation port as he reached the platform rim and caught a glimpse of ruddy rocket exhaust flames outlined against the dark curve of earth. That would be the Terra rocket making its controlled fall to home with Flip aboard. Without slowing, he leaped across the high speed track, narrowly missing a senior space officer. He shouted his apologies, and gained the entrance to Valve Eight just as the high buzz of the radiation warning sounded, signaling a nuclear drive cruiser preparing to take off.
Nine faces of assorted colors and expressions turned to him. He had a quick impression of black tunics and trousers. He had found his detachment! Without slowing, he called, "Follow me!"
The cruiser's safety officer had been keeping an[pg 021] eye on the clock, his forehead creased in a frown as he saw that only a few seconds remained to departure time. He walked to the valve opening and looked out. If his passengers were not in sight, he would have to reset the clock.
Rip went through the valve opening at top speed. He crashed head-on into the safety officer.
The safety officer was driven across the deck, his arms pumping for balance. He grabbed at the nearest thing, which happened to be the deputy cruiser commander.
The pre-set control clock reached firing time. The valve slid shut and the take-off bell reverberated through the ship.
And so it happened that the spacemen of the SCN Scorpius turned their valves, threw their controls and disengaged their boron control rods, and the great cruiser flashed into space, while the deputy commander and the safety officer were completely tangled with a very flustered and unhappy new Planeteer lieutenant.
Sergeant-major Koa and his men had made it before the valve closed. Koa, a seven-foot Hawaiian, took in the situation and said crisply in a voice all could hear, "I'll bust the bubble of any son of a space sausage who laughs!"