Rip considered. "Koa, how many Connies have you?"

"Four, sir."

With the five he and Dowst had taken, that meant four sill at large, and

from Nunex's report, some Connie yelling had been going on. The four

certainly knew by this time that there were Federal men on the asteroid.

Unless something were done quickly the four Connies would be shooting at

them from the darkness. He ordered, "All Planeteers, kill your belt

lights."

The lights on the Connies they had just taken still glowed. Dowst was

putting a patch on the Connie Rip had stabbed. He waited until the

private had finished, then said, "Turn out the Connies' lights, too."

If he could get in touch with the Connies, he could tell them they were

finished. But using the snapper-boat radios was out, because the enemy

cruiser would hear. The cruiser couldn't hear the helmet communications,

though, because they carried only a short distance. The cruiser was close

enough so that a helmet communicator turned on full volume might barely

be heard, although it was unlikely.

He couldn't stick his head in a Connie helmet, but he could talk to a

Connie by direct communication and have him give instructions.

There was complete darkness with all belt lights out, but he groped his

way to the Connie Dowst had been patching, felt for his helmet, and put

his own against it. He yelled, "Do you hear me?"

"Yes." Then he asked, "Why did you patch me?"

It was a perfect opening. "Because we don't want to kill you. Listen. We

have all but four of you. Understand?"

"Yes. What will you do with us?"

"Treat you as prisoners--if you behave. Get on your communicator and tell

those four men to surrender. Tell them to come to the boats, with lights

on. Tell them we'll give them five minutes. If they don't come, we'll

hunt them with rockets. Make that clear."

"They will come," the Connie said. "They don't want to die. I will do

it."

Rip kept his helmet against the Connie's, but the man spoke in another

language, which Rip identified as the main Consops tongue. When he had

finished, Rip told his Planeteers to have weapons ready and to keep

lights off. Time enough for light when the Connies were all disarmed.

It didn't take five minutes. The Connie teams came quickly and willingly,

and they seemed almost glad to give up their pistols and knives. This was

not unusual. Rip had seen many Planeteer reports that spoke of the same

thing. Many Connies, it seemed, were glad to get away from the iron

Consops rule, even if it meant becoming Federation prisoners.

Inside one of the snapper-boats a light glowed. Rip put his helmet

against that of the man who had given the surrender order and demanded,

"What's that light?"

"The cruiser wants us."

Rip considered demanding that the Connie answer, then thought better of

it. He would do it himself. After all, they had hostages. The cruiser

wouldn't take any further action. He climbed into the snapper-boat and

hunted for the plug-in terminal. It fitted his own belt jack. He plugged

in and said, "Go ahead."

There was an instant of silence, then an accented voice demanded, "Why

are you speaking English?"

Rip replied formally, "This is Lieutenant Foster, Federation Special

Order Squadrons, in charge on the asteroid. Your landing party is in

our hands, as prisoners, two wounded, none dead. If you agree to

withdraw, we will send the wounded men back to you in one boat. The rest

will remain here as hostages for your good behavior."

"Stand by," the voice said. There was silence for several moments, then a

new voice said, "This is the cruiser commander. We make a counteroffer.

If you release our men and surrender to them, we will spare the lives of

you and your men."

Rip listened incredulously. The commanding officer didn't understand. He,

Rip, held the whip hand, because the lives of the Connie prisoners were

in his hands. He repeated his offer.

"And I repeat," the commander retorted. "Surrender or die. Choose now."

"I refuse," Rip stated flatly. "Try anything, and your men will suffer,

not us."

"You are mistaken," the harsh voice said. "We will sweep the asteroid

clean with our exhaust, but this time we will be more thorough. When

we have finished, we will hammer you with guided missiles. Then we will

send snapper-boats with rockets to hunt down any who remain. We intend to

have that thorium. You had better surrender."

Rip couldn't believe it. The cruiser commander had no hesitation in

sacrificing his own men! And it was not a bluff. He knew instinctively

that the Connie commander meant it. Instantly he unplugged the radio

connection from his belt and spoke urgently. "Koa, get everyone under

cover in the cave. Hurry! Collect all the Connies and take them with

you."

Then he plugged in again. "Commander, I must have time to think this

over."

"You have one minute."

He watched his chronometer, planning the next move. When the minute

ended, he asked, "Commander, how do we know you will spare our lives if

we surrender?" Through the transparent shell of the snapper-boat he saw

lights moving toward the horizon and knew Koa was following orders.

"You don't know," the cruiser answered. "You must take our word for it.

But if you surrender, we have no reason to wish you harm."

Rip remained silent. The seconds ticked past until the commander snapped,

"Quickly! You have no more time."

"Sir," Rip said plaintively, "two of my men do not wish to surrender."

"Shoot them, fool! Are you in command or not?"

Rip grinned. He made his voice whine. "But, sir, it is against the law of

the Federation to shoot men without a trial."

The commander lapsed into his own language, caught himself, then barked,

"You are no longer under Federation law. You are under the Consolidation

of People's Governments. Do you surrender or not? Answer at once, or we

take action anyway. Quick!"

Rip knew he could stall no longer. He said coolly, "If you had brains

in your head instead of high vacuum, you'd know that Planeteers never

surrender. Blast away, you filthy space pirate!"

He jerked the plug loose, hesitated for a second over whether or not to

take the snapper-boat, and decided against it. He wasn't familiar with

Connie controls, and there wasn't time to experiment. He headed for the

cave.

The Connie cruiser lost no time. Its stern tubes flamed, then its

steering tubes. It was going to drive directly at the asteroid without

making a long run! Rip estimated quickly and realized that the Connie

would get to the asteroid at the same time that he reached the cave--if

he made it.

He speeded up as fast as he dared. With little gravity on the asteroid,

he couldn't fall, but a false step could lift him into space and make

him lose time while he got out an air bottle to propel him down again.

The thought gave him an idea. Without slowing he took two bottles from

his belt, turned them so the openings pointed backward, squeezed the

release valves.

The Connie was gaining speed, blasting straight toward him. Rip sped

forward and crossed to the sun side, intent on the cave entrance but no

longer sure he would make it. The Connie's nose tube shot a cylinder of

flame forward, reaching for the asteroid. He saw the fire lick downward

and sweep toward him with appalling speed as he put everything he had

into a frantic dive for the cave entrance. The flaming rocket exhaust

seemed to snatch at him as a dozen hands pulled him to safety, then beat

the sparks from his suit.

He was safe. He leaned against Koa, his heart thumping wildly. For a

moment or two he couldn't speak; then he managed, "Thanks."

Koa spoke for the Planeteers. "We're the ones to say thanks, sir. If you

hadn't thought of stalling the cruiser, and if you hadn't stayed behind

to give us time, we'd have some casualties, and so would the Connies we

captured."

"There wasn't anything else I could do," Rip replied. "Come on, Koa.

Let's see what the cruiser is doing."

They stepped outside. The metal was already cold again. Things didn't

stay hot in the vacuum of space.

They didn't see the Connie until the fire of its exhaust suddenly blasted

above the horizon, and then they ducked for cover. The cruiser had taken

a swing at the other side of the asteroid. They peered out again and saw

it turning.

"He won't get us," Rip said confidently. "Our tough time will come when

he sends a fleet of snapper-boats."

"We'll get a few," Koa replied grimly. "Wait! What's he doing?"

The cruiser had started for the asteroid. Suddenly jets flamed from every

quarter of the ship. He was using all steering jets at once! Rip watched,

bewildered, as the great ship spun slowly, advanced, then settled to a

stop just at the horizon.

"He can't be launching boats already," he said worriedly. "What's he up

to?"

They ran forward a short distance until they could see below the cave's

horizon level. The cruiser released exhausts from both sides of the ship,

the outer ones the slightest bit stronger. Rip exclaimed, "Great Cosmos,

he's cuddling right up to the asteroid! Why?"

"Hiding," Koa said. "By Gemini! Come on, sir!"

Rip saw his meaning instantly, and they raced to the side of the asteroid

away from the ship. As they crossed into the dark half, Rip looked back.

He couldn't see the cruiser from here. But he looked out into space,

across the horizon, and knew that Koa's guess had been right. The

distinctive glow of a nuclear drive cruiser was clear among the stars.

The _Scorpius_ had returned!

"The Connie saw it," Rip said worriedly, "but didn't blast away. That

means he's intending to ambush the _Scorpius_. Koa, if he does, that

means war."

The tall officer shook his head. "Sir, the Connie has guided missiles

with atomic warheads, just as our ship has. If he can launch one from

ambush and hit our ship, that's the end of it. The _Scorpius_ will be

nothing but space junk. Commander O'Brine will never have time to get

off a message, because he'll be dead before he knows there is danger."

The logic of it sent a chill down Rip's spine. The Connie could get the

_Scorpius_ with one nuclear blast and then clean up the asteroid at

leisure. The Federation would suspect, but it would be unable to prove

anything, because there would be no witnesses. If the Connie took time to

tow the remains of the _Scorpius_ deep into the asteroid belt, it likely

would never be found, no matter how the Federation searched.

They had to warn the ship. But how? Their helmet communicators wouldn't

reach it until it was right at the asteroid, and that would be too late.

They had no other radio. If only the radios in the snapper-boats were on

a Federation frequency.... Hey! They could take one of the boats and

intercept the cruiser!

He was hurrying toward them before Koa understood what he was saying. He

tried to make his legs go faster, but they were unsteady. He knew he was

losing blood. He had lost plenty. He gritted his teeth and kept going.

The snapper-boats seemed miles away to Rip, but he plugged ahead until

his belt light picked them up. He took a long look, then turned away,

heartsick. The Connie's exhaust had charred them into wreckage.

"Now what?" he asked.

"I don't know, sir," Koa answered somberly.

They went back to the cave, not hurrying because Rip no longer had the

strength to hurry. Weakness and a deep desire to sleep almost overcame

him, and he knew that he was finished, anyway. His wound must be too deep

to clot, which meant it would bleed until he bled to death. Whether he

warned the _Scorpius_ or not, his end was the same.

Back in the cave, he leaned against the wall and asked tiredly. "How is

Dominico?"

"I am fine, sir. My wound stopped bleeding."

"How is the Connie I got?"

"Unconscious, sir," Santos replied. "He must be bleeding badly, but we

can't tell. The one you landed on is all right now, but he may have a

broken rib or two."

Because his voice was weak, Rip had to turn up the volume on his

communicator to tell the Planeteers about the _Scorpius_. They were

silent when he finished. Then Dowst spoke up.

"Looks like they have us, sir. But we'll take plenty of them with us

before we're finished."

"That's the spirit," Rip told them. "I won't last much longer. When I get

too weak, Koa will take over. Meanwhile, I want to get outside. Bring the

rocket launcher outside, too. Who's the gunner? Santos? Stand by, then.

We'll need you, in case the Connie decides to send a few snappers before

it goes after the Scorpius."

The cruiser's glow was plain above the horizon now. It was so close that

they could make out its form against the background of stars. O'Brine was

decelerating, and Rip was certain he was watching his screens for a sign

of the enemy. He would see nothing, because the enemy was in the shadow

of the asteroid. He would think the coast was clear and would come to a

stop nearby while he asked why Rip had called for help. Failing to get a

reply, since the landing boat was wrecked, he would send a landing party,

and the Connie would attack while he was launching boats, off guard.

Rip watched the prediction come true. The nuclear cruiser slowed

gradually, its great bulk nearing the asteroid. O'Brine was operating as

expected.

Rip was having trouble keeping his vision from blurring. He leaned

against the rocket launcher, and his glove caressed one of the sharp

noses in the rack.

He heard his own voice before the idea had even taken full form. "Santos!

Do you hear me? Santos! Get the _Scorpius_! Fire before it comes to a

stop. And don't miss!"

Santos started to protest, but Koa bellowed, "Do it! The lieutenant's

right. It's the only chance we've got to warn the ship. Get the scorpion,

Santos. Dead amidships!"

The young corporal swung into action. His space gloves flew as he cranked

the launcher around, turned on the illuminated sight, and bent low over

it. Rip stood behind the corporal. He saw the cruiser's shape stand out

in the glow of the sight, saw the sighting rings move as Santos corrected

for its speed.

The corporal fired. Fire flared back past his shoulder. The rocket

flashed away, its trail dwindling as it sped toward the great bulk

above. It reached _Brennschluss_, and there was darkness. Rip held his

breath for long seconds, then gave a weak cry of victory.

A blossom of orange fire marked a perfect hit.

Rip Foster in Ride the Gray Planet · 第 58 / 110 题