He had trained in the deadly little fighting rockets, and they
never failed to interest him. But there wasn't time to admire them now.
He went back up the ladder with two strong heaves, found the right
ladder, and dropped down without touching. His knees flexed to take up
the shock. He came out of the crouch facing a black-clad Planeteer
sergeant who snapped to rigid attention.
"Koa," Rip barked. "Where can I find him?"
"He's not here, sir. He and eight men left fifteen minutes ago. I don't
know where they went, sir."
Rip shot a worried glance at his wrist chronometer. He had two minutes
left before the cruiser departed. No more time now to search for his men.
He hoped the sergeant major had sense enough to be waiting at some
reasonable place. He went up the ladder hand over hand and sped down the
corridor to the supply room. The spaceman first class in charge of
supplies was turning an audio-mag through a hand viewer, chuckling at the
cartoons. At the sight of Rip's flushed, anxious face he dropped the
machine. "Yessir?"
"I need a spack. Full gear, including bubble."
"Yessir." The spaceman looked him over with a practiced eye. "One full
space pack. Medium-large, right, sir?"
"Correct.
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