CHAPTER NINETEEN - SPACEFALL
Rip was never more eloquent. He argued, he begged, and he wheedled.
The _Aquila's_ chief physician listened with polite interest, but he shookhis head. "Lieutenant, you simply are not aware of the close call you'vehad. Another two hours without treatment and we might not have been ableto save you."
"I appreciate that," Rip assured him. "But I'm fine now, sir."
"You are not fine. You are anything but fine. We've loaded you withantibiotics and blood cell regenerator, and we've given you a totaltransfusion. You feel fine, but you're not."
The doctor looked at Rip's red hair. "That's a fine thatch of hair youhave. In a week or two it will be gone and you'll have no more hair thanan egg. A well person doesn't lose hair."
The ship's radiation safety officer had put both Rip's and Santos'sdosimeters into his measuring equipment. They had taken over a hundredroentgens of hard radiation above the tolerance limit. This was the resultof being caught unshielded when the last nuclear charge went off.
"Sir," Rip pleaded, "you can load us with suppressives. It's only a fewdays more before we reach Terra. You can keep us going until then. We'llboth turn in for full treatment as soon as we get to the space platform.But we have to finish the job, can't you see that, sir?"
The doctor shook his head. "You're a fool, even for a Planeteer. Beforeyou get over this you'll be sicker than you've ever been. You have a monthin bed waiting for you. If I let you go back to the asteroid, I'll only bedelaying the time when you start full treatment."
"But the delay won't hurt if you inject us with suppressives, will it?"Rip asked quickly. "Don't they keep the sickness checked?"
"Yes, for a maximum of about ten days. Then they no longer have sufficienteffect and you come down with it."
"But it won't take ten days," Rip pointed out. "It will only take acouple, and it won't hurt us."
MacFife had arrived to hear the last exchange. He nodded sympathetically."Doctor, I can appreciate how the lad feels. He started something and hewants to finish it. If y'can let him, safely, I think ye should."
The doctor shrugged. "I can let him. There's a nine to one chance it willdo him no harm. But the one chance is what I don't like."
"I'll know it if the suppressives start to wear off, won't I?" Rip asked.
"You certainly will. You'll get weaker rapidly."
"How rapidly?"
"Perhaps six hours. Perhaps more."
Rip nodded. "That's what I thought. Doctor, we're less than six hours fromTerra by ship. If the stuff wears off, we can be in the hospital within acouple of hours. Once we go into a braking ellipse, we can reach ahospital in less than an hour by snapper-boat."
"Let him go," MacFife said.
The doctor wasn't happy about it, but he had run out of arguments. "Allright, Commander. If you'll assume responsibility for getting him off theasteroid and into a Terra or space platform hospital in time."
"I'll do that," MacFife assured him. "Now get your hyposprays and fill himfull of that stuff you use. The corporal, too."
"Sergeant," Rip corrected. His first action on getting back to theasteroid would be to recommend Santos's promotion to Terra base. Heintended to recommend Kemp for corporal, too. He was sure the Planeteersat Terra would make the promotions.
The two Federation cruisers were still holding course along with theasteroid, the Connie cruiser between them.
Within an hour, Rip and Santos, both in false good health thanks tomedical magic, were on their way back to the asteroid in a ball-bat boat.
"Let Him Go Back to the Asteroid, Doctor."]
"Let Him Go Back to the Asteroid, Doctor."
The remaining time passed quickly. The sun receded. The Planeteerscorrected course. Rip sent in his recommendations for promotions, andlooked over the last nuclear crater to see why the blast had started theasteroid spinning.
The reason could only be guessed. The blast probably had opened a fault inthe crystal, allowing the explosion to escape partially in the wrongdirection.
Once the course was corrected, Rip calculated the position for the finalnuclear charge. When the asteroid reached the correct position relative toearth, the charge would not only change its course but slow its speedsomewhat. The asteroid would go around the earth in a series ofever-tightening ellipses, using Terra's gravity, plus rocket fuel, to slowit down to the right orbital speed.
When it reached the proper position, tubes of rocket fuel would change thecourse again, putting it into an orbit around the earth close to the spaceplatform. It wasn't practical to take the thorium rock in for a landing.They would lose control and the asteroid would flame to earth like thegreatest meteor ever to hit the planet.
Putting the asteroid into an orbit around earth was actually the mostdelicate part of the whole trip, but Rip wasn't worried. He had thefacilities of Terra base within easy reach by communicator. He dictatedhis data and let them do the mathematics on the giant electroniccomputers.
He and his men rode the gray planet past the moon, so close they couldalmost see the Planeteer Lunar base, circled Terra in a series ofellipses, and finally blasted the asteroid into its final orbit withinsight of the space platform.
Landing craft and snapper-boats swarmed to meet them and within an hourafter their arrival the Planeteers were surrounded by spacemen, cadetsfrom the platform, and officers and men wearing Planeteer black.
A cadet approached Rip and looked at him with awe. "Sir, I don't know howyou ever did it!"
And Rip, his eyes on the great curve of earth, answered casually, "There'sone thing every space-chick has to learn if he's going to be a Planeteer.There's always a way to do anything. To be a Planeteer you have to be ableto figure out the way."
A new voice said, "Now that's real wisdom!"
Rip turned quickly and looked through a helmet at the grinning face ofMajor Joe Barris.
Barris spoke as though to himself, but Rip turned red as his hair. "Funnyhow fast a man ages in space," the Planeteer major remarked. "Take Foster.A few weeks ago he was just a cadet, a raw recruit who had never met highvack. Now he's talking like the grandfather of all space. I don't know howthe Special Order Squadrons ever got along before he became an officer."
Rip had been feeling a little too proud of himself.
"It's good to get back," Rip said.
Rip Foster Rides the Gray Planet Page 20