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Goodwin, Harold Leland, 1914-1990

"Rip Foster in Ride the Gray Planet"


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 space 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 space etiquette. There
was a time for spacemen 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."
Rip followed as the commander led the way to his own quarters. At the
door two space officers were waiting, their faces grave.
O'Brine motioned them to chairs. "All right, let's have it."
The senior space officer held out a sheet of flimsy. It was pale blue,
the color used for highly confidential documents. "Sir, this came in
Space Council special cipher.


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