Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Rip Foster Rides the Gray Planet by Harold L. Goodwin (best beach reads txt) 📖
- Author: Harold L. Goodwin
Book online «Rip Foster Rides the Gray Planet by Harold L. Goodwin (best beach reads txt) 📖». Author Harold L. Goodwin
Rip threw the rocket into a turn that rammed him against the top of his harness. He steadied on a line with the crippled Connie craft. It was hard hit. The bow jets flickered fitfully, and the stern tubes were dead. He sighted, fired. A charge hit the boat aft and blew its stern tubes off completely.
And at the same moment, a Connie gunner got a perfect bead on the snapper-boat.
Space blew up in Rip's face. The snapper-boat slewed wildly as the Connie shot took effect. Rip worked his controls frantically, trying to straighten the rocket out more by instinct than anything else.
His eyes recovered from the blinding flash and he gulped as he saw the raw, twisted metal where the boat's nose had been. He managed to correct the boat's twisting by using the stern tubes, but he was no longer in full control.
For a moment panic gripped him. Without full control he couldn't get back to the asteroid! Then he forced himself to steady down. He sized up the situation. They were still underway, the stern tubes pushing, but their trajectory would take them right[pg 195] under the crippled Connie boat. The sun was blazing into the fighting rocket with such intensity that he had trouble seeing.
There was nothing he could do but pass close to the Connie. The enemy gunners would fire, but he had to take his chances. He looked down at the asteroid and saw an orange trail as Koa launched another rocket.
The shot from the asteroid ticked the bottom of the Connie boat and exploded. The Connie rolled violently. Tubes flared as the pilot fought to correct the roll. He slowed the spinning as Rip and Santos passed, just long enough for a Connie gunner to get in a final shot.
The shell struck directly under Rip. He felt himself pushed violently upward, and at the same moment he reacted, by hunch and not by reason. He rammed the controls full ahead and the dying rocket cut space, curving slowly as flaming fuel spurted from the ruptured tanks.
Rip yelled, "Santos! You all right?"
"I think so. Lieutenant, we're on fire!"
"I know it. Get ready to abandon ship."
When the main mass of fuel caught, the rocket would become an inferno. Rip smashed at the escape hatch above his head, grabbed propulsion tubes from the rack and called, "Now!"
He pulled the release on his harness, stood up on the seat, and thrust with all his leg power. He catapulted[pg 196] out of the burning snapper-boat into space.
Santos followed a second later and the crippled rocket twisted wildly under the two Planeteers.
"Don't use the propulsion tubes," Rip called. "Slow down with your air bottles." He thrust the tubes into his belt, found his air bottles, and pointed two of them in the direction they had been traveling. He wanted to come to a stop, to let the wild snapper-boat get away from them.
The compressed air bottles did the trick. He and Santos slowed down as the little jets overcame the inertia that was taking them along with the burning boat. The boat was spiraling now, and burning freely. It moved away from them, its stern jets firing weakly as fuel burned in the tank.
Rip took a look toward the enemy cruiser. The assault boat was no longer showing an exhaust. Instead, it was being dragged rapidly away from the Connie cruiser by the pull of the sun. At least they had hit it in time to prevent launching of the atomic guided missiles. Or, he thought, perhaps the enemy had never intended using them. The principal effect, besides killing the Planeteers, would have been to drive the asteroid into the sun at an even faster rate.
The enemy assault boat was no longer a menace. Its occupants would be lucky if they succeeded in saving their own lives.
Rip wondered what the Connie cruiser commander would try now. Only one thing remained, and[pg 198] that was to set the cruiser down on the asteroid. If the Connie tried, he would arrive at just about the time set for releasing the nuclear charge. And that would be the end of the cruiser—and probably of the Planeteers as well.
Santos asked coolly, "Lieutenant, wouldn't you say we're in sort of a bad spot?"
Rip had been so busy sizing up the situation that he hadn't thought about his own predicament. Now he looked down and suddenly realized that he was floating free in space, a considerable distance above the asteroid, and with only small propulsion tubes for power.
He gasped, "Great space! We're in a mess, Santos."
The Filipino corporal asked, still in a calm voice, "How long before we're dragged into the sun, sir?"
Rip stared. Santos had used the same tone he might have used in asking for a piece of Venusian chru. An officer couldn't be less calm, so Rip replied in a voice he hoped was casual, "I wouldn't worry, Santos. We won't know it. The heat will get through our suits long before then."
In fact, the heat should be overloading their ventilating systems right now. In a few minutes the cooling elements would break down and that would be the end. He listened for the accelerated whine as the ventilating system struggled under the increased heat load, and heard nothing.
Funny. Had it overloaded and given out already?[pg 199] No, that was impossible. He would be feeling the heat on his body if that were the case.
He looked for an explanation and realized for the first time that they weren't in the sunlight at all. They were in darkness. His searching glance told him they were in the cone of shadow stretching out from behind the asteroid. The thorium rock was between them and the sun!
His lips moved soundlessly. Major Joe Barris had been right! In a jam, trust your hunch. He had acted instinctively, not even thinking what he was doing as he used the last full power of the stern tubes to throw them into the shadow cone.
And he knew in the same moment that it could save their lives. The sun's pull would only accelerate their fall toward the asteroid. He said exultantly, "We're staying out of high vack, Santos. Light off a propulsion tube. Let's get back to the asteroid."
He pulled a tube from his belt, held it above his head, and thumbed the striker mechanism. The tube flared, pushing downward on his hand. He held steady and plummeted feet first toward the rock.
Santos was only a few seconds behind him. Rip saw the corporal's tube flare and knew that everything was all right, at least for the moment, even though the asteroid was still a long way down.
He looked upward at the Connie cruiser and saw that it was moving. Its exhaust increased in length and deepened slightly in color as Rip watched, his[pg 200] forehead creased in a frown. What was the Connie up to?
Then he saw side jets flare out from the projecting control tubes and knew the ship was maneuvering. Rip realized suddenly that the cruiser was going to pick up the crippled assault boat.
He hadn't expected such a humane move after his first meeting with the Connie cruiser when the commander had been willing to sacrifice his own men. This time, however, there was a difference, he saw. The commander would lose nothing by picking up the assault boat, and he would save a few men. Rip supposed that manpower meant something, even to Consops.
His propulsion tube reached brennschluss, and for a few moments he watched, checking his speed and direction. Then, before he lit off another tube, he checked his chronometer. The illuminated dial registered 2301. They had just four minutes to get to the asteroid!
He spoke swiftly. "Waste no time in lighting off, Santos. That nuclear charge goes in four minutes!"
The Filipino corporal said merely, "Yessir."
Rip pulled a tube from his belt, held it overhead, and triggered it. His flight through space speeded up but he wasn't at all sure they would make it. He turned up his helmet communicator to full power and called, "Koa, can you hear me?"
The sergeant-major's reply was faint in his helmet.[pg 201] "I hear you weakly. Do you hear me?"
"Same way," Rip replied. "Get this, Koa. Don't fail to explode that charge at twenty-three-oh-five. Can you see us?"
The reply was very slightly stronger. "I will explode the charge as ordered, Lieutenant. We can see a pair of rocket exhausts, but no boats. Is that you?"
"Yes. We're coming in on propulsion tubes."
Koa waited for a long moment, then: "Sir, what if you're not with us by twenty-three-oh-five?"
"You know the answer," Rip retorted crisply.
Of course Koa knew. The nuclear blast would send Rip and Santos spinning into outer space, perhaps crippled, burned, or completely irradiated. But the lives of two men couldn't delay the blast that would save the lives of eight others, not counting prisoners.
Rip estimated his speed and course and the distance to the asteroid. He was increasingly sure that they wouldn't make it, and the knowledge was like the cold of space in his stomach. It would be close, but not close enough. A minute would make all the difference.
For a few heartbeats he almost called Koa and told him to wait that extra minute, to explode the nuclear charge at 2306, at the very last second. But even Planeteer chronometers could be off by a few seconds and he couldn't risk it. His men had to be given some leeway.
[pg 202]The decision made, he put his mind to the problem. There must be some way out. There must be!
He surveyed the asteroid. The nuclear charge was on his left side, pretty close to the sun line. At least he and Santos could angle to the right, to get as far away from the blast as possible.
The edge of the asteroid's shadow was barely visible. That it was visible at all was due to the minute particles of matter and gas that surrounded the sun, even millions of miles out into space. He reduced helmet power and told Santos, "Angle to the right. Get as close to the edge of shadow as you can without being cooked."
As an afterthought, he asked, "How many tubes do you have?"
"One after this, sir. I had three."
Rip also had one left. That was correct, because snapper-boats carried three in each man's position.
"Save the one you have left," he ordered.
He didn't know yet what use they would be, but it was always a good idea to have some kind of reserve.
The Connie cruiser was sliding up to the crippled assault boat. Rip took a quick look, then shifted his hands, and angled toward the edge of shadow. When he was within a few feet he reversed the direction of the tube to keep from shooting out into sunlight. A second or two later the tube burned out.
Santos was several yards away and slightly above[pg 203] him.
Comments (0)