Commander O'Brine motioned to chairs. "Might as well sit down while we're waiting, Foster." He took one of the chairs and looked closely at Rip. Suddenly he grinned. "I thought Planeteers never got nervous." "Who's nervous?" Rip retorted, then answered his own question truthfully. "I am. You're right, sir. The closer we get, the more scared I get." "That's a good sign," O'Brine replied. "It means you'll be careful. Got any real doubts about the job?" Rip thought it over and didn't think so. "Not any real ones. I think we can do it. But I'm nervous just the same. Great Cosmos, Commander! This is my first assignment, and they give me a whole world to myself and tell me to bring it home. Maybe it isn't a very big world, but that doesn't change things much." O'Brine chuckled. "I never expected to get an admission like that from a Planeteer." "And I," Rip retorted, "never expected to make one like that to a spaceman." The chief analyst returned, a sheet of computations in his hand. "Report, sir. The albedo measurement is correct. This may be it." "How long before we get the measurements and comparisons?" "Ten minutes, perhaps." Rip spoke up. "Sir, there's some data I'll need." "What, Lieutenant?" The analyst got out a notebook. "I'll need all possible data on the asteroid's speed, orbit, and physical measurements. I will have to figure a new orbit and what it will take to blast the mass into it." "We'll get those. The orbit will not be exact, of course. We have only two reference points. But I think we'll come pretty close." O'Brine nodded. "Do what you can, Chief. And when Foster gets down to doing his calculations, have your men run them through the electronic computer for him." Rip thanked them both, then stood up. "Sir, I'm going back to my men. I want to be sure everything is ready. If there's a Connie cruiser headed this way, we don't want to lose any time." "Good idea. I think we'll dump you on the asteroid, Foster, and then blast off. Not too far, of course. Just enough to lead the Connie away from you if its screen picks us up." That sounded good to Rip. "We'll be ready when you are, sir." The chief analyst took less than the estimated ten minutes for his next set of figures. Commander O'Brine called personally while Rip was still searching for the right landing-boat ports. The voice horn bellowed, "Get it, Lieutenant Foster! The mass measurements are correct. This is your asteroid. Estimated twelve minutes before we reach it. Your data will be ready by the time you get back here. Show an exhaust!" Rip found Koa and the men and asked the sergeant major for a report. "We're ready, sir," Koa told him. "We can get out in three minutes. It will take us that long to get into space gear. Your stuff is laid out, sir."