"Lad, it’s a pity for ye to miss the show. I’m sending a boat for ye."
"The sun will get it!" Rip exclaimed.
"Never fear, lad. It won’t get this one. Now switch back to universal and
listen in."
Rip did so in time to catch the Connie commander’s voice. "... and I
refuse to believe such a story! Great Cosmos, do you think I am a fool?"
"Of course not," the Frenchman replied. "You are not such a fool as to
refuse a simple request to check our instruments."
The _Sagittarius_ commander was right. Rip understood the strategy.
Equipment sometimes did go out of operation in space, and Connies had no
hesitation in asking Federation cruisers for help, or the other way
around. Such help was always given, because no commander could be sure
when he might need help himself.
"I agree," the Connie commander said with obvious reluctance. "You may
send a boat."
MacFife’s Scotch burr broke in. "Federation _SCN Aquila_ to Consolidation
Sixteen. Mister, my instruments are off scale, too. I’ll just send them
along to ye and ye can check them while ye’re doing the _Sagittarius_!"
"I object!" the Connie bellowed.
"Come now," MacFife burred soothingly. "Checking a few instruments won’t
hurt ye."
A small rocket exhaust appeared, leaving the _Aquila_. The exhaust grew
rapidly, more rapidly than that of any snapper-boat. Rip watched it, while
keeping his ears tuned to the space conversation.