"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 s.p.a.ce, 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 s.p.a.ce conversation.

Koa tugged his arm. "See that, sir?"

Rip nodded.

"Surely sending boats is too much of a nuisance," the French commander said winningly. "We will come alongside."

"It's a trick," the Connie growled. "You want me to open my valves, then your men will board us and try to take over my ship!"

"My friend, you have a suspicious mind," Galliene replied smoothly. "If you wish, arm your men. Ours will have no weapons. Train launchers on the valves so our men will be annihilated before they can board, if you see a single weapon."

This was going a little far, Rip thought, but it was not his affair and he didn't know exactly what MacFife and Galliene had in mind.

The _Aquila's_ boat arrived with astonishing speed. Rip saw it flash in the sunlight and knew he had never seen one like it before. It was a perfect globe, about 20 feet in diameter. Blast holes covered the globe at intervals of six feet.

The boat settled to the asteroid and a new voice called over the helmet circuit, "Where's Foster? Show an exhaust! We're in a rush."

Rip ordered, "Take over, Koa. I'll be back."

"Yessir."

He hurried to the boat and stood there, bewildered. He didn't know how to get in.

"Up here," the voice called. He looked up and saw a hatch. He jumped and a s.p.a.ce-clad figure pulled him inside. The door shut and the boat blasted off. Acceleration shoved him backward, but the s.p.a.ceman snapped a line to his belt, then motioned him to a seat. Rip pulled himself up the line and got into the seat, snapping the harness in place.

"I'm Hawkins, senior s.p.a.ce officer," the s.p.a.ceman said. "Welcome, Foster.

We've been losing weight wondering if we'd get here in time."

"I was never so glad to see s.p.a.cemen in my life," Rip said truthfully.

"What kind of craft is this, sir?"

"Experimental," the s.p.a.ce officer answered. "It has a number, but we call it the ball-bat because it's shaped like a ball and goes like a bat. We were about to take off for some test runs around the s.p.a.ce platform when we got a hurry call to come here. The _Aquila_ has two of these. If they prove out, they'll replace the snapper-boats. More power, greater maneuverability, heavier weapons, and they carry more men."

There was only the officer and a pilot, but Rip saw positions for several others.

He looked out through the port and saw the two Federation cruisers closing in on the Connie. Apparently the Connie commander had agreed to let the cruisers come alongside.

The ball-bat blasted to the _Aquila_, paused at an open port, then slid inside. The valve was shut before Rip could unbuckle his harness. Air flooded into the chamber and the lights flicked on. The s.p.a.ce officer gave Rip a hand out of the harness, and the young Planeteer went through the hatch to the deck.

The inner valve opened and a lean, sandy-haired officer in s.p.a.ce blue with the insignia of a commander stepped through. Grinning, he hurried to Rip's side and twisted his bubble, lifting it off.

"Hurry, lad," he greeted Rip. "I'm MacFife. Get out of that suit quick, because ye don't want to miss what's aboot to happen." With his own hands he unlocked the complicated belt with its gadgets and equipment, disconnected the communicator and ventilator, and then unfastened the lock clips that held top and bottom of the suit together.

Rip slipped the upper part over his head and stepped out of the bottom.

"Thanks, Commander. I'm one grateful Planeteer, believe me!"

"Come on. We'll hurry right across ship to the opposite valve. Lad, I've a son in the Planeteers and he's just about your own age. He's on Ganymede.

He and the others will be proud of what ye've done."

MacFife was pulling himself along rapidly by the convenient handholds. Rip followed, his breathing a little rapid in the heavier air of the ship. He followed the Scottish commander through the maze of pa.s.sages that crossed the ship and stopped at a valve where s.p.a.cemen were waiting. With them was an officer who carried a big case.

"The instruments," MacFife said, pointing. "We've tinkered with them a bit just to make it look real."

"But why do you want to board the Connie?" Rip asked curiously.

MacFife's eye closed in a wink. "Ye'll see."

There was a slight b.u.mp as the cruiser touched the Connie. The waiting group recovered balance and faced the valve. Rip knew that s.p.a.cemen in the inner lock were making fast to the Connie cruiser, setting up the airtight seal.

It wasn't long before a bell sounded and a s.p.a.ceman opened the inner valve. Two men in s.p.a.ce suits were waiting, and beyond them the outer valve was joined by a tube to the outer valve of the Connie ship. Rip stared at the Connie s.p.a.cemen in their red tunics and gray trousers. One, a scowling officer with two pistols in his belt, stepped forward.

Rip noted that the other Connies were heavy with weapons, too. None of his group had any.

"I'm the commander," the scowling Connie said. "Bring your instruments in quickly. We will check them, then you get out."

"Ye're no verra friendly," MacFife said, his burr even more p.r.o.nounced. He led Rip and the officer with the instruments into the Connie ship.

A handsome Federation s.p.a.ceman with a mustache, the first Rip had ever seen, stepped into the room from a pa.s.sageway on the opposite side. The s.p.a.ceman bowed with exquisite grace. "I have the honor of making myself known," he proclaimed. "Commander Remy Galliene of the _Sagittarius_."

The Connie commander grunted. He was afraid, Rip realized. The Connie suspected a trick, and he had no idea of what it might be.

Rip looked him over with interest. This was the man who had been willing to burn his own s.p.a.cemen back at the asteroid belt.

Galliene saw Rip's black uniform and hurried to shake his hand. "So this is the young lieutenant who is responsible! Lieutenant, today the s.p.a.cemen honor the Planeteers because of you. Most days we fight each other, but today we fight together, eh? I am glad to meet you!"

"And I'm glad to meet you, sir," Rip returned. He liked the twinkle in the Frenchman's eye. He would have given a lot to know what scheme Galliene and MacFife had cooked up.

The Connie had overheard Galliene's greeting. He glared at Rip. The Frenchman saw the look and smiled happily. "Ah, you do not know each other? Commander, I have the honor to make known Lieutenant Foster of the Federation Special Order Squadrons. He is in command on the asteroid."