The blade connected solidly. He was suddenly free.
He pressed the wounded arm to his side, stopping the outpouring of
air. The cut hurt like all the devils of space. With his other hand he
increased the air in his suit, then looked swiftly around. The Connie was
on his knees, both gloves pressed tightly to his side.
Dowst was just finishing a knot in the safety line that bound a second
enemy's hands. The Connie Rip had rocketed down on was still lying where
he had fallen. And Corporal Santos, the enemy's pneumatic chatter gun at
the ready, was standing guard.
Rip turned up the volume in his communicator. He tried to sound calm,
but the shakiness of triumph and excitement was in his voice. "All
Planeteers. We have the Connie snapper-boats. Koa, bring your men here."
He felt someone working on his arm and turned to see Corporal Pederson,
his face one vast grin in the glare from Dowst's belt light. "Koa didn't
need me," he said.
Rip grinned back. "Nunez," he called, "how are things at the cave?"
"Sir, this is Nunez. Two Connies were prowling around, but they didn't
see the entrance. Then, a minute ago, they hurried away."
Rip considered. "Koa, how many Connies have you?"
"Four, sir.
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