The setting up of the drill didn't take much time, but it was done with a great deal of care. He set the four-foot tube in the center of the quadrilateral formed by the pitons and braced it in position by attaching lines to the eyes on a detachable collar that encircled the drill. Once the drill started working, it wouldn't need bracing, but until it did, it had to be held down.
All the time he worked, he kept his eyes on his lines and on his ship. The planetoid was turning under him, which made the ship appear to be circling slowly around his worksite. He had to make sure that his lines didn't get tangled or twisted while he was working.
As he set up the bracing on the six-inch diameter drill, he sang a song that Kipling might have been startled to recognize:
"To the tables down at Mory's,
To the place where Louie dwells,
Where it's always double drill and no canteen,
Sit the Whiffenpoofs assembled,
With their glasses raised on high,
And they'll get a swig in Hell from Gunga Din."
When the drill was firmly based on the surface of the planetoid, St. Simon hauled his way back to his ship along his safety line. Inside, he sat down in the control chair and backed well away from the slowly spinning hunk of rock. Now there was only one thin pair of wires stretching between his ship and the drill on the asteroid.
When he was a good fifty meters away, he took one last look to make sure everything was as it should be.
"Stand by for a broadside!"
"Standing by, sir!"
"You may fire when ready, Gridley!"
"Aye, sir! Rockets away!" His forefinger descended on a button which sent a pulse of current through the pair of wires that trailed out the open door to the drill fifty meters away.