There was no need for streamlining in the
vacuum of space. They were not pressurized. Only men in space suits rode
in the ungainly boxes.
He checked all blast tubes to make sure they were clear. There were small
single tubes on each side of the craft. A clogged one could explode and
blow the boat up.
Koa, he knew, had checked everything, but the final responsibility was
his. In space, no officer took anyone's word for anything that might mean
lives. Each checked every detail personally.
Rip looked around and saw the Planeteers watching him. There was approval
on the faces behind the clear helmets, and he knew they were satisfied
with his thoroughness.
At last, certain that everything was in good order, he said quietly,
"Pilots, man your boats."
Dowst got into one and a spaceman into the other. Dowst's boat would stay
with them on the asteroid. The spaceman would bring the other back to the
ship.
Commander O'Brine stepped through the valve into the boat lock. A
spaceman handed him a hand communicator. He spoke into it. Rip couldn't
have heard him through the helmet otherwise. "All set, Foster?"
"Ready, sir."
"Good. The long-range screen picked up a blip a few minutes ago. It's
probably that Connie cruiser.
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