Koa waited for a long moment, then: "Sir, what if you're not with us by twenty-three-oh-five?"
"You know the answer," Rip retorted crisply.
Of course Koa knew. The nuclear blast would send Rip and Santos spinning into outer space, perhaps crippled, burned, or completely irradiated. But the lives of two men couldn't delay the blast that would save the lives of eight others, not counting prisoners.
Rip estimated his speed and course and the distance to the asteroid. He was increasingly sure that they wouldn't make it, and the knowledge was like the cold of space in his stomach. It would be close, but not close enough. A minute would make all the difference.
For a few heartbeats he almost called Koa and told him to wait that extra minute, to explode the nuclear charge at 2306, at the very last second. But even Planeteer chronometers could be off by a few seconds and he couldn't risk it. His men had to be given some leeway.
The decision made, he put his mind to the problem. There must be some way out. There must be!
He surveyed the asteroid. The nuclear charge was on his left side, pretty close to the sun line. At least he and Santos could angle to the right, to get as far away from the blast as possible.
The edge of the asteroid's shadow was barely visible. That it was visible at all was due to the minute particles of matter and gas that surrounded the sun, even millions of miles out into space. He reduced helmet power and told Santos, "Angle to the right. Get as close to the edge of shadow as you can without being cooked."
As an afterthought, he asked, "How many tubes do you have?"
"One after this, sir. I had three."