"X marks the spot," he told Dowst. He put his toe on the place where the
crosslines met.
Dowst used a spike to make an X in the metal ground.
"All set," Rip announced. "You four men can move now. Let's have the
cutting equipment over here, Koa."
The Planeteers were all waiting for instructions now. In a few moments
the equipment was ready, fuel and oxygen bottles attached.
"Who's the champion torchman?" Rip asked.
Koa replied, "Kemp is, sir."
Kemp, one of the two American privates, took the torch and waited for
orders. "We need a hole six feet across and twenty feet deep," Rip told
him. "Go to it."
"How about direction, sir?" Kemp asked.
"Straight down. We'll take a bearing on an overhead star when you're in a
few feet."
Dowst inscribed a circle around the X he had made and stood back. Kemp
pushed the striker button and the torch flared. "Watch your eyes," he
warned. The Planeteers reached for belt controls and turned the rheostats
that darkened the clear bubbles electronically. Kemp adjusted his flame
until it was blue-white, a knife of fire brighter by far than the light
of the sun at this distance.
Koa stepped behind Kemp and leaned against his back, because the flame of
the torch was like an exhaust, driving Kemp backward.
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