"One after this, sir. I had three."
Rip also had one left. That was correct, because snapper-boats carried
three in each man’s position.
"Save the one you have left," he ordered.
He didn’t know yet what use they would be, but it was always a good idea
to have some kind of reserve.
The Connie cruiser was sliding up to the crippled assault boat. Rip took a
quick look, then shifted his hands, and angled toward the edge of shadow.
When he was within a few feet he reversed the direction of the tube to
keep from shooting out into sunlight. A second or two later the tube
burned out.
Santos was several yards away and slightly above him. Rip saw that the
Planeteer was all right and turned his attention to the cruiser once more.
It was close enough to the assault boat to haul it in with grappling
hooks. The hooks emerged and engaged the torn metal of the boat, then drew
it into the waiting port. The massive air door slid closed.
The question was, would the Connie try to set his ship down on the
asteroid? Rip grinned without mirth. Now would be a fine time. His
chronometer showed a minute and half to blast time.
He took another look at his own situation. He and Santos were getting
close to the asteroid, but there was still over a half mile earth distance
to go. They would cover perhaps three-fourths of that distance before Koa
fired the charge.
He had a daring idea. How long could he and Santos last in direct
sunlight? The effect of the sun in the open was powerful enough to make
lead run like water. Their suits could absorb some heat and the
ventilating system could take care of quite a lot. They might last as much
as three minutes, with luck.
They had to take a risk with the full knowledge that the odds were against
them. But if they didn’t take the risk, the blast would push them outward
from the asteroid-into full sunlight. The end result would be the same.
"We’re not going to make it, Santos," he began.
"I know it, sir," Santos replied.
Rip thought, anyone with that much coolness and sheer nerve rated some
kind of special treatment. And the Filipino corporal had shown his ability
time and time again. He said, "I should have known you knew, _Sergeant_
Santos. We still have a slight chance. When I give the word, use an air
bottle to push you into the sunlight. When I give the word again, light
off your remaining tube."
"Yessir," Santos replied. "Thank you for the promotion. I hope I live to
collect the extra rating."
"Same here," Rip agreed fervently. His eyes were on his chronometer, and
with his free hand he took another air bottle. When the chronometer
registered exactly one minute before blast time, he called, "Now!" He
triggered the bottle and moved from shadow into glaring sunlight. A slight
motion of the bottle turned him so his back was to the sun, then he used
the remaining compressed air to push him downward along the edge of
shadow. The sun’s gravity tugged at him.
He pulled the last tube from his belt and held it ready while he watched
his chronometer creep around. With five seconds to go, he called to Santos
and fired it. Acceleration pushed at him.
In the same moment, the nuclear charge exploded.