Part 6 (1/2)

”That's that,” Rip said, relieved. Apparently he was supposed to do a lot of cutting on the asteroid, probably of the thorium itself. The hot flame of the torch could melt any known substance. The torch itself could melt in unskilled hands.

The next case yielded a set of astrogation instruments, carefully cradled in a soft, rubbery plastic. Rip left them in the case and put them to one side. As he did so, Sergeant Major Koa let out a whistle of surprise.

”Lieutenant, look at this!”

Corporal Santos exclaimed, ”Well, stonker me for a stupid s.p.a.ce squid! Do they expect us to find any people on this asteroid?”

The object was a portable rocket launcher designed to fire light attack rockets. It was a standard item of fighting equipment for Planeteers.

”I recognize the shape of those cases over there, now,” Koa said. ”Ten racks of rockets for the launcher, one rack to a case.”

Rip scratched his head. He was as puzzled as Santos. Why supply fighting equipment for a crew on an asteroid that couldn't possibly have any living thing on it?

He left the puzzle for the future and called for more cases. The next two yielded projectile-type handguns for ten men, with ammunition, and standard Planeteer s.p.a.ce knives. The s.p.a.ce knives had hidden blades, which were driven forth violently when the operator pushed a thumb lever, releasing the gas in a cartridge contained in the handle. The blades snapped forth with enough force to break a bubble or to cut through a s.p.a.ce suit. They were designed for the sole purpose of s.p.a.ce hand-to-hand combat.

The Planeteers looked at each other. What were they up against, that such equipment was needed on a barren asteroid?

Private Dowst opened a box that contained a complete tool kit, the tools designed to be handled by men in s.p.a.ce suits. Yards of wire, for several purposes, were wound on reels. Two hand-driven dynamos capable of developing great power were included.

Corporal Pederson found a small case which contained books, the latest astronomical data sheets, and a s.p.a.ce computer and scratch board. These were obviously for Rip's personal use. He examined them. There were all the references he would need for computing orbit, speed, and just about anything else that might be required. He had to admire the thoroughness of whoever had written the order. The unknown Planeteer had a.s.sumed that the s.p.a.ce cruiser would not have all the astrophysics references necessary and had included a copy of each.

Several large cases remained. Koa ripped the side from one and let out an exclamation. Rip hurried over and looked in. His stomach did a quick orbital reverse. Great Cosmos! The thing was an atomic bomb!

Commander O'Brine leaned over his shoulder and peered at the lettering on the cylinder: EQUIVALENT TEN KT.

In other words, the explosion the harmless-looking cylinder could produce was equivalent to ten thousand tons of TNT, a chemical explosive no longer in actual use but still used for comparison.

Rip asked huskily, ”Any more of those things?” The importance of the job was becoming increasingly clear to him. Nuclear explosives were not used without good reason. The fissionable material was too valuable for other purposes.

The sides came off the remaining cases. Some of them held fat tubes of conventional rocket fuel in solid form, the igniters carefully packed separately.

There were three other atomic bombs, making four in all. There were two bombs each of five KT and ten KT.

Commander O'Brine looked at the amazing a.s.sortment of stuff. ”Does that check, clerk?”

The s.p.a.ceman nodded. ”Yes, sir. I found another notation that says food supplies and personal equipment to be supplied by the _Scorpius_.”

”Well, vack me for a Venusian rabbit!” O'Brine muttered. He tugged at his ear. ”You could dump me on that asteroid with this a.s.sortment of junk, and I'd spend the rest of my life there. I don't see how you can use this stuff to move an asteroid!”

”Maybe that's why the Federation sent Planeteers,” Rip said--and was sorry the moment the words were out.

O'Brine's jaw muscles bulged, but he held his temper. ”I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, Foster. We have to get along until the asteroid is safely in an orbit around Earth. After that, I'm going to take a great deal of pleasure in feeding you to the s.p.a.ce fish, piece by piece.”

It was Rip's turn to get red. ”I'm sorry, Commander. Accept my apologies.” He certainly had a lot to learn about s.p.a.ce etiquette. There was a time for s.p.a.cemen and Planeteers to fight each other and a time for them to cooperate.

”I'm sure you'll be able to figure out what to do with this stuff,”

O'Brine said. ”If you need help, let me know.”

And Rip knew his apology was accepted.

The deputy commander arrived, drew O'Brine aside, and whispered in his ear. The commander let out an exclamation and started out of the room. At the door he turned. ”Better come along, Foster.”