Commander O'Brine arrived at the same time. "We're starting to scan for the asteroid," he greeted Rip. "May be some time before we find it."

"Where are we, sir?" Rip asked.

"Just above the asteroid belt near the outer edge. We're beyond the position where the asteroid was sighted, moving along what the _Altair_ figured as its...o...b..t. I'm not stretching s.p.a.ce, Foster, when I tell you we're hunting for a needle in a junk pile. This part of s.p.a.ce is filled with more objects than you would imagine, and they all register on the rad-screens."

"We'll find it," Rip said confidently.

O'Brine nodded. "Yes. But it probably will take some hunting. Meanwhile, let's get at those cases. The supply clerk is on his way."

The supply clerk arrived, issued tools to the Planeteers, then opened a plastic case attached to one of the boxes and produced lists. As the Planeteers opened and unpacked the crates, Rip and O'Brine inspected and the clerk checked the items off.

The first case produced a complete chemical cutting unit with an a.s.sortment of cutting tips and adapters. Rip looked around for the gas cylinders and saw none. "Something's wrong," he objected. "Where's the fuel supply for the torch?"

The supply clerk inspected the lists, shuffled papers, and found the answer.

"The following," he read, "are to be supplied from the _Scorpius_ complement. One landing boat, large, model twenty-eight. Eight each, oxygen cutting unit gas bottles. Four each, chemical cutting unit fuel tanks."

"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!

[Ill.u.s.tration: Great Cosmos! It Was An Atomic Bomb!]

Great Cosmos! It 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 10,000 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 detonators 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.cefish, 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. Apparently there was a time for s.p.a.cemen and Planeteers to fight each other, and a time for them to cooperate like friends. He hoped he'd catch on after a while.

"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."

Rip followed as the commander led the way to his own quarters. At the door, two s.p.a.ce officers were waiting, their faces grave.

O'Brine motioned them to chairs. "All right. Let's have it."

The senior s.p.a.ce officer held out a sheet of flimsy. It was pale blue, the color used for highly confidential doc.u.ments. "Sir, this came in s.p.a.ce Council special cipher."

"Read it aloud," O'Brine ordered.

"Yessir. It's addressed to you, this ship. From Planeteer Intelligence, Marsport. 'Consops cruiser departed general direction your area. Agents report crew _Altair_ may have leaked data re asteroid. Take appropriate action.' It's signed 'Williams, SOS, Commanding.'"

Rip saw the meaning of the message instantly. The Consolidation of People's Governments of earth, traditional enemies and rivals of the Federation of Free Governments, needed radioactive minerals as badly, or worse, than the Federation. In s.p.a.ce it was first come, first take. They had to find the asteroid quickly. It was to prevent Consops from knowing of the asteroid that security measures had been taken. They hadn't worked, because of loose s.p.a.ce chatter at Marsport.

O'Brine issued quick orders. "Now, get this. We have to work fast.

Accelerate fifty percent, same course. I want two men on each screen. If anything of the right size shows up, decelerate until we can get ma.s.s and albedo measurements. Snap to it."

The s.p.a.ce officers started out, but O'Brine stopped them. "Use one long-range screen for scanning high s.p.a.ce toward Mars. Let me know the minute you get a blip, because it probably will be that Consops cruiser.

Have the missile ports cleared for action."

Rip's eyes opened. Clear the missile ports? That meant getting the cruiser in fighting shape, ready for instant action. "You wouldn't fire on that Consops cruiser, would you, sir?"

O'Brine gave him a grim smile. "Certainly not, Foster. It's against orders to start anything with Consops cruisers. You know why. The situation is so tense that a fight between two s.p.a.ce ships might plunge earth into war."

His smile got even grimmer. "But you never know. The Consops ship might fire first. Or an accident might happen."