The snapper-boats came out of the darkness of space, leaving a glowing trail of fire. They were not graceful. Rip could see no beauty in their lines, but to his professional eye there was plenty of deadly efficiency.

The Connie fighting craft looked like three globes strung evenly on a steel tube. The middle globe was larger than the end ones, and it was transparent. From it projected the barrels of two kinds of weapons—explosive and ultrasonic. Five men usually rode in the middle ball. One piloted. The other four were gunners.

The end globes were pierced by five large holes. They were blast tubes for the rocket exhaust. Unlike the landing boats, each tube did not have its own fuel supply. One fuel tank served each globe. The pilot could direct the exhaust through any tube or combination of tubes he wished, by operating valves that either sealed or opened the vents. The system gave high maneuverability to the boats. By playing on the controls with the skill of an organist, the pilot could shift direction with dazzling speed.

Snapper-boats used by the Federation operated on the same principle, but they were of American design, and they showed the Americans' love of clean lines. Federation fighter craft were slim and streamlined, even though the streamlining was of no use whatever in space. With blast holes at each end, they looked like double-ended needles. The pilot's canopy in the center controlled guns that fired through the front only. Rear guns were handled by a gunner, who sat with back to the pilot.

Where Connie snapper-boats carried five men, the Federation boats carried two. The Connies could fire in any direction. The Federation pilots aimed by pointing the snapper-boat itself, as fighter pilots of conventional aircraft had once aimed their guns.

Rip watched the boats approach. He was ready to duck inside if they decided to look the asteroid over before landing. He hoped they wouldn't catch sight of his two scouts. He also hoped his nervousness would vanish when the fight started. He knew what to do, at least in theory. He had gone through combat problems on the moon during training. But this was different. This was real. The lives of his men depended on his being right, and he was afraid of making a wrong decision.

Sergeant Major Koa, an experienced Planeteer with true understanding, came and stood beside him. He said, "Guess I'll never get over being jittery while waiting for the fight to start. I'm sweating so hard my dehumidifier is humming like a Callistan honey lizard. But it doesn't last long once the shooting begins. I get so busy I forget to be jittery."

Before Rip could reply, the snapper-boats flashed over the cave, circled the asteroid once, and landed on the dark side, close to the bomb craters.

The first scout reported. "Santos, sir. I'm fifty yards beyond the stakes where we had the first base. The snapper-boats landed between the first two craters. Men coming out of one boat. I count six. Now they're coming out of the other boat, but I can't see very well."

The other scout picked up the report, his voice thick with excitement. "I can see them, sir! By Cosmos! There are seven in this boat on my side. I am behind a rock forty yards to sunward of the second crater."

Rip turned up the volume of his communicator. "How are they armed? Santos, report."

"One has a chatter gun. The rest have nothing."

"Pederson, report."

"No weapons I can see, sir."

Koa looked at Rip. "They must think the asteroid is clean. Otherwise they'd have more than a chatter gun in sight. You can bet they have knives and pistols, too."

Rip had been playing with an idea. He tried it on his men. "These Connies would be useful to us alive, if we could capture them."

Dowst caught his meaning first. "As hostages, sir?"

"That's it. If we could capture them, the Connie cruiser would be helpless. We could use the snapper-boat radios to warn the ship that any false move would mean harm to their men."

Koa shook his head doubtfully. "I'm not sure the Connies worry about their men, but it's worth the try. We can capture some of them if they split up to search the asteroid. But we won't be able to sneak up on them all."

"We have an advantage," Rip reminded them. "We've been on the asteroid longer. We know our way around, and we're used to space walking. They've just come out of deceleration, and they won't have their space legs yet."

Santos reported. "They're breaking up into groups of two. Three are guarding the snapper-boats. One is the man with the chatter gun."

"Are their belt lights on?"

"Yes."

"Then keep out of the beams. Don't let them walk into you. Keep low, and keep moving. Stay on the dark side."

"We'd better get to the dark side ourselves," Koa warned. He was right, Rip knew. The Connies didn't have far to search before reaching the sun side. "Koa, you take Trudeau and Kemp. I'll take Dowst and Dominico. Nunez and Bradshaw stay here to guard the cave. If they arrive in twos, let them get into the cave before you jump them. Bradshaw, how do you feel?"

"I'm all right, Lieutenant."

Rip admired the Planeteer's nerve. He knew Bradshaw was in pain, because bleeding into high vacuum was always painful. The crack in the Englishman's helmet had let most of the air out, and his own blood pressure had done the rest. He would carry the marks for days. A few more moments, and all air and all heat would have been gone, with fatal results. Fortunately, bubbles didn't shatter easily when cracked. To destroy them took a good blow.

"All right. Let's travel. Koa, go right. I'll go the other way, and we'll work around the asteroid until we meet."

Rip led the way, gliding as rapidly as he could toward the edge of darkness. He called, "Santos. Anyone coming in the direction of the cave?"

"Two pairs. About fifty yards apart. They will be out of my sight in a few seconds."

That meant they would be within sight of Rip and the others. He knew Koa had heard the message, too. Both groups put on more speed and reached the safety of darkness. "Get down," Rip ordered. They could still be seen, if silhouetted against the edge of sunlight.

Starlight gave a little light, but it was too faint to help much. Rip's plan was that the Connies would supply the light needed for an attack.

In a few seconds, as Santos had predicted, belt light beams cut sharp paths through the darkness. Rip sized up the possibilities. There were two teams of two men each, and they were getting farther apart with each step. One team was coming almost directly toward them. The other two men slanted away from them and would soon be out of sight behind the thorium crystals in which the cave was located. Fortunately, the Connies were going away from the cave.

A Connie from the nearby team swung his beam back and forth, and it cut space over their heads. Rip saw a few low pyramids of thorium a few rods away. Quickly he ordered, "Dowst, hang on to my boots. Dominico, hang on to Dowst's boots."

He lay face down on the metal ground until he felt hands grip his boots, then he asked, "All set?"

Two voices answered, "Ready."

Rip put his gloves on the ground, then heaved forward and slightly upward to overcome his inertia and that of his men. The trio moved slowly, almost parallel with the surface. Once or twice Rip reached down to a convenient crystal and put his strength into changing course and altitude. Those were the only times when he felt the tug of his men.

He reached the first pyramid of thorium and directed, "Get behind these rocks and stay down. Feel your way. Use me for a guide. I'll hold on until you're under cover." He gripped a crystal. "Come on."

Dominico pulled himself along Dowst's prone form and then along Rip's. When Dominico had reached the shelter of the crystals, Dowst crawled along, with Rip's body for his guide, passed over him, and reached cover. Rip followed.

The belt lights of the two Connies were almost abreast of them. Far to their left, Rip saw another pair of lights. That was a pair he hadn't seen before.

"We'll wait until they pass," he told his men. "Then we'll get up and rush them from behind. They can't hear us coming. Dowst, you take the near one. I'll take the far one. Dominico, you help as needed, but concentrate on cutting off their equipment. The first thing we must do is cut their communicators; otherwise they'll warn the rest. Then turn off their air supplies and collapse their suits."

One thing was in their favor. The space suits worn by the Connies were almost the same as theirs. The controls were of the same kind. The only way to know a Connie was by his bubble, which was a little more tubular than the round bubbles of the Federation.

Rip suddenly realized that he wasn't nervous anymore. He grinned. After all, this was what he was trained for.

The Connies came abreast and passed. "Let's go," Rip said, and as he rose he heard Koa's voice.

The sergeant major said, "Kemp, kneel on their right side. Trudeau and I will hit them from the left and tumble them over you. Get their communicators first."

Koa had his own methods and they sounded good.

Rip started slowly. He wanted to get directly behind the Connies. He stayed down low until he was sure they couldn't see him unless they turned.

Dowst and Dominico were right with him. "Come on," he said, and started gliding after the helmeted figures. He kept his eyes on the one he had selected, and he called on all the myriad stars of space to give him luck. If the men turned, his plan for quick victory would fail.

He sensed his Planeteers beside him as the figures loomed ahead. He gave a final spring that sent him through space with knees bent and outthrust, his hands reaching.

His knees connected solidly with the Connie's thighs, and his hands groped around the bulky space suit. He felt a rheostat control and twisted savagely, then groped for the distinctive star-shaped button of the air supply.

The Connie wrenched violently and threw them both upward. Rip felt the star shape and twisted. If he could only deflate the Connie's suit! But the man was writhing from his grip, clawing for a weapon.

Then Rip stopped reaching for the deflation valve. He grabbed his knife, jerked it free, and thrust it against the middle of the Connie's back. Then he clanged his bubble against the man's helmet for direct communication and shouted, "Grab some space, or I'll let vack into you!"

The Connie understood English. Most earthlings did. But even better was his understanding of the pressure on his back. He stopped struggling; his arms shot starward.

Rip breathed freely for the first time since he had leaped, and exultation grew in him. He had his first man! His first hand-to-hand fight had ended in victory so easily that he could hardly believe it.

He took time to look around him and saw that he was a good five feet above the asteroid.

Below him, a Connie belt light sent its shaft parallel with the ground, and he knew the second man was down.

The question was, had either of them shouted before their communicators were cut off?

"Dowst," he called urgently. "All okay?"

"No," Dowst said grimly. "We got the Connie, but he got Dominico. Cut his leg with a space knife. I'm putting a patch on it. You okay?"

"Yes. When you can, pull me down."

"Right you are."

Dominico spoke up. "Don't worry about me, sir. Nothing bad. I don't lose much air."

"Fine, Dominico. Glad it wasn't worse."

But Rip knew it wasn't good, either. A cut with a space knife let air out of the suit and created at least a partial vacuum. If it also cut flesh, the vacuum let the blood pressure force out blood and tissue to turn a minor wound into an ugly one.

They would have to bring this space flap with the Connies to a quick end, Rip thought. He had to get his men into air somehow, to take a look at their wounds. Bradshaw needed attention immediately, and now so did Dominico.

Dowst reached up, took Rip's ankle, and pulled him down. Rip held on to his captive. Then the private bound the Connie's hands, jerked his communicator control completely off, and turned his air back on. Since Rip had been unable to collapse the suit, the Connie was comfortable enough. The reason for collapsing the suit was to deprive the enemy of air instantly, so that he could be tied up while helpless from lack of oxygen. There was enough air in the suit for only a few breaths once the supply was cut off.

The Connie on the ground was neatly trussed. Rip's prisoner joined him. Dowst switched off his belt light. "Now what, sir?"

Dominico was standing patiently nearby. He said nothing. Rip knew that no more could be done for the Italian at present. "Go back to the cave, Dominico," he ordered.

"I can stay with you, sir."

"No, Dominico. Thanks for the offer, but we'll get along. Go back to the cave."

"Yes, sir."

Rip was a little worried. He had heard nothing from Koa since that first exchange. He told Dowst as much. But Koa himself heard and answered.

"Lieutenant, we're all right. Got two Connies, and I don't think they had a chance to yell. But I'm sorry about one, sir. Kemp had to swing at him and busted his bubble."

"Fatal?"

"No, we patched it in time. But worse than Bradshaw."

"Tough." Rip couldn't feel too sympathetic.

After all, it was the Connie cruiser's fault Bradshaw had felt high vack. "All right. We have four. That leaves nine."

Santos came on the circuit. "Sir, this is Santos. Only three men are at the snapper-boats. If you could get here without being seen, maybe we could knock them off. The rest wouldn't be much good if we had their boats."

"You're right, Santos," Rip replied instantly. Why hadn't he seen that for himself? He knew how he and Dowst could approach the craters without being spotted, now that they had removed two teams of Connies. "We're on our way. Koa, make it if you can."

"Yes, sir."

Dominico was already making his way back to the cave. Rip and Dowst started for the horizon at a good walk, not afraid now to use their lights, at least for a few yards. If any of the remaining Connie search teams saw the lights, they would think they were their own men's.

Rip remembered the lay of the ground and Santos' description of the snapper-boats' position. He circled almost to the horizon, then told Dowst to cut his light. He cut his own. In a moment they topped the horizon and, standing with only helmets visible from the snapper-boats, looked the situation over.

The three Connies were standing between them and the boats. To the left of the boats was the second crater. Rip studied the ground as best he could in the Connie belt lights and decided on a plan of action. Calling to Dowst, he circled again. Presently they were approaching the crater. The Connies were just about twenty-five yards from the crater's opposite rim.

Rip said, "I hate to do this, Dowst, but I can't see any way out. We have to go into the crater."

Dowst merely said, "Yes, sir."

The extra radiation might put both of them well over the safety limits long before Earth was reached, and they both knew it. He reached the crater's edge and walked right down into it.

They were out of sight of the Connies now. Rip walked up the other side of the crater until his bubble was just below ground level. The chunks of thorium he had ordered thrown in to block some of the radiation made walking a little difficult.

"Santos," he said, "we're in the second crater."

"Sir, I'm beyond the first, between two crystals. Pederson is near you somewhere."

"Good. When I give the word, turn up your helmet light until they can see a pretty good glow. Keep watching them." The bubbles were equipped with lights, but they were seldom used. He outlined his plan swiftly. Both Santos and Dowst acknowledged.

Koa reported in. "We're after two more Connies near the wreck of the landing boat, sir."

"Be careful. Pederson, go help Koa. Nunez, how are things at the cave?"

"Nunez reporting, sir. Two Connies in sight, but they haven't seen us yet."

"Let me know when they spot the cave."

"Yes, sir."

"Santos, go ahead."

For long moments there was silence. Rip felt for a solid foothold, found one, and flexed his knees. He kept his back straight and his eyes on the crater rim. His hands were occupied with two air bottles taken from his belt, and his thumbs were on their valve releases. He waited patiently for word from Santos that his helmet glow had been seen.

Santos yelled, "Now!"

Rip's legs straightened with a mighty thrust. He flashed into space headfirst, at an angle that took him over the crater's rim and fifty feet above the ground. He caught a glimpse of Santos' helmet, glowing like a pink balloon, and of the three Connies facing it.

Rip's arms flashed above his head. His thumbs compressed. Air spurted from the two bottles, driving him downward feetfirst, directly at the heads of the Connies!