Part 15 (1/2)
One thing was in their favor. The s.p.a.ce suits worn by the Connies were almost the same as theirs. The controls were of the same kind. The only way to know a Connie was by his bubble, which was a little more tubular than the round bubbles of the Federation.
Rip suddenly realized that he wasn't nervous anymore. He grinned. After all, this was what he was trained for.
The Connies came abreast and pa.s.sed. ”Let's go,” Rip said, and as he rose he heard Koa's voice.
The sergeant major said, ”Kemp, kneel on their right side. Trudeau and I will hit them from the left and tumble them over you. Get their communicators first.”
Koa had his own methods and they sounded good.
Rip started slowly. He wanted to get directly behind the Connies. He stayed down low until he was sure they couldn't see him unless they turned.
Dowst and Dominico were right with him. ”Come on,” he said, and started gliding after the helmeted figures. He kept his eyes on the one he had selected, and he called on all the myriad stars of s.p.a.ce to give him luck. If the men turned, his plan for quick victory would fail.
He sensed his Planeteers beside him as the figures loomed ahead. He gave a final spring that sent him through s.p.a.ce with knees bent and outthrust, his hands reaching.
His knees connected solidly with the Connie's thighs, and his hands groped around the bulky s.p.a.ce suit. He felt a rheostat control and twisted savagely, then groped for the distinctive star-shaped b.u.t.ton of the air supply.
The Connie wrenched violently and threw them both upward. Rip felt the star shape and twisted. If he could only deflate the Connie's suit! But the man was writhing from his grip, clawing for a weapon.
Then Rip stopped reaching for the deflation valve. He grabbed his knife, jerked it free, and thrust it against the middle of the Connie's back.
Then he clanged his bubble against the man's helmet for direct communication and shouted, ”Grab some s.p.a.ce, or I'll let vack into you!”
The Connie understood English. Most earthlings did. But even better was his understanding of the pressure on his back. He stopped struggling; his arms shot starward.
Rip breathed freely for the first time since he had leaped, and exultation grew in him. He had his first man! His first hand-to-hand fight had ended in victory so easily that he could hardly believe it.
He took time to look around him and saw that he was a good five feet above the asteroid.
Below him, a Connie belt light sent its shaft parallel with the ground, and he knew the second man was down.
The question was, had either of them shouted before their communicators were cut off?
”Dowst,” he called urgently. ”All okay?”
”No,” Dowst said grimly. ”We got the Connie, but he got Dominico. Cut his leg with a s.p.a.ce knife. I'm putting a patch on it. You okay?”
”Yes. When you can, pull me down.”
”Right you are.”
Dominico spoke up. ”Don't worry about me, sir. Nothing bad. I don't lose much air.”
”Fine, Dominico. Glad it wasn't worse.”
But Rip knew it wasn't good, either. A cut with a s.p.a.ce knife let air out of the suit and created at least a partial vacuum. If it also cut flesh, the vacuum let the blood pressure force out blood and tissue to turn a minor wound into an ugly one.
They would have to bring this s.p.a.ce flap with the Connies to a quick end, Rip thought. He had to get his men into air somehow, to take a look at their wounds. Bradshaw needed attention immediately, and now so did Dominico.
Dowst reached up, took Rip's ankle, and pulled him down. Rip held on to his captive. Then the private bound the Connie's hands, jerked his communicator control completely off, and turned his air back on. Since Rip had been unable to collapse the suit, the Connie was comfortable enough. The reason for collapsing the suit was to deprive the enemy of air instantly, so that he could be tied up while helpless from lack of oxygen. There was enough air in the suit for only a few breaths once the supply was cut off.
The Connie on the ground was neatly trussed. Rip's prisoner joined him.