So that was to be the Consops story! Rip thought quickly, then held
up his hand in a shocked gesture that would have done credit to the
Frenchman. "Oh, no, Commander! You misunderstand. We had no way of
communicating by radio, so I did the only thing we could do. I fired
rockets as a warning. We didn't want your boats to get caught in a
nuclear explosion."
He shrugged. "It was very unlucky for us that the sun threw my gunner's
aim off and he hit your boats--quite by accident."
MacFife coughed to cover up a chuckle. Galliene hid a smile by stroking
his moustache.
The Connie commander growled, "And I suppose it was accident that you
took my men prisoner?"
"Prisoner?" Rip looked bewildered. "We took no prisoners. When your boats
arrived, the men asked if they might not join us. They claimed refuge,
which we had to give them under interplanetary law."
"I will take them back," the Connie stated.
"You will not," Galliene replied with equal positiveness. "The law is
very clear, my friend. Your men may return willingly, but you cannot
force them. When we reach Terra we will give them a choice. Those who
wish to return to the Consolidation will be given transportation to the
nearest border."
The Connie commander motioned to a heavily armed officer. "Take their
instruments. Check them quickly." He put his lips together in a straight
line and stared at the Federation men. They stared back with equal
coldness.
The minutes ticked by. Rip wondered again what kind of plan MacFife and
Galliene had.
Additional minutes passed, and the officer returned with the cases.
Wordlessly he handed them to Galliene and MacFife. The Connie commander
snapped, "There. Now get out of my ship."
Galliene bowed. "You have been a most courteous and gracious host,"
he said. "Your conversation has been stimulating, inspiring, and
informative. Our profound thanks."
He shook hands with Rip and MacFife, bowed to the Connie commander again,
and went out the way he had come. There wasn't anything to say after the
Frenchman's sarcastic farewell speech. MacFife, Rip, and the officer with
the instruments went back through the valves into their own ship.
Once inside, MacFife called, "Come with me. Hurry." He led the way
through passages and up ladders, to the very top of the ship, to the
hatch where the astrogators took their star sights. The protective shield
of nuclite had been rolled back, and they could see into space through
the clear-vision port.
Rip and MacFife hurried to the side where they were connected to the
Connie. Rip looked down along the length of the ship. The valve
connection was in the middle of each ship, at the point of greatest
diameter. From that point each ship grew more slender.
MacFife pointed to the Connie's nose. Projecting from it like great horns
were the ship's steering tubes. Unlike the Federation cruiser, which
blasted steam through internal tubes that did not project, the Connie
used chemical fuel.
"Watch," MacFife said.
There were similar tubes on the Connie's stern, Rip knew. He wondered
what they had to do with the plan.