"I think so. Lieutenant, we’re on fire!"
"I know it. Get ready to abandon ship."
When the main mass of fuel caught, the rocket would become an inferno. Rip
smashed at the escape hatch above his head, grabbed propulsion tubes from
the rack and called, "Now!"
He pulled the release on his harness, stood up on the seat, and thrust
with all his leg power. He catapulted out of the burning snapper-boat into
space.
Santos followed a second later and the crippled rocket twisted wildly
under the two Planeteers.
"Don’t use the propulsion tubes," Rip called. "Slow down with your air
bottles." He thrust the tubes into his belt, found his air bottles, and
pointed two of them in the direction they had been traveling. He wanted to
come to a stop, to let the wild snapper-boat get away from them.
The compressed air bottles did the trick. He and Santos slowed down as the
little jets overcame the inertia that was taking them along with the
burning boat. The boat was spiraling now, and burning freely. It moved
away from them, its stern jets firing weakly as fuel burned in the tank.
Rip took a look toward the enemy cruiser. The assault boat was no longer
showing an exhaust. Instead, it was being dragged rapidly away from the
Connie cruiser by the pull of the sun. At least they had hit it in time to
prevent launching of the atomic guided missiles. Or, he thought, perhaps
the enemy had never intended using them. The principal effect, besides
killing the Planeteers, would have been to drive the asteroid into the sun
at an even faster rate.
The enemy assault boat was no longer a menace. Its occupants would be
lucky if they succeeded in saving their own lives.
[Illustration: Rip and Santos Fell Through Space]