Santos scored a direct hit on the nose of the nearest one, but its momentum drove it to within a few yards of the asteroid. Five space-suited figures erupted from it, holding hand propulsion units, tubes of rocket fuel used for hand combat in empty space. The Connies lit their propulsion tubes and drove feet first for the asteroid. The Planeteers estimated where the enemy would land, and they were there waiting, with aimed handguns. The Connies had their hands over their heads, holding the propulsion tubes. They took one look at the gleaming Planeteer guns, and their hands stayed upright. The Planeteers lashed the Connies' hands behind them with their own safety lines and, at Rip's orders, dumped all but one of them into the crater where Kemp was just finishing his cutting. Three snapper-boats remained. Rip watched, holding tightly to the arm of the Connie he had kept at his side. The man wore the insignia of an officer. The remaining snapper-boats were going to make it. Santos threw rockets among them and scored hits, but the boats kept coming. The Connies were too far away from the cruiser to return, and they knew it. Getting to the asteroid was their only chance. Rip called, "Santos! Cease fire. Set the launcher for ground level. Let them land, but don't fire until I give the word." He put his helmet against his prisoner's for direct communication. "You speak English?" The man shouted back, "Yes." "Good. We're going to let your friends land. As soon as they do, I want you to yell to them. Say we have assault rockets trained on them. Tell them to surrender, or they'll be killed in their tracks. Got that?" The Connie replied, "Suppose I refuse?" Rip put his space knife against the man's stomach. "Then we'll get them with rockets. But you won't care, because you won't know it." The truth was that Santos couldn't hope to get them all with his rockets. They might overcome the Connies in hand-to-hand fighting, but there would be a cost to pay in Planeteer casualties. Rip hoped the Connie wouldn't call his bluff, because that's all it was. He couldn't use a space knife on an unarmed prisoner. The Connie didn't know that. In Rip's place he would have no compunctions about using the knife, so instead of calling Rip's bluff, he agreed. The snapper-boats blew their front tubes, decelerating, and squashed down to the asteroid in a roar of exhaust flames, sending the Planeteers running out of the way. Rip thrust harder with his space knife and yelled, "Tell them!" The Connie officer nodded. "Turn up my communicator." Rip turned it on full, and the Connie barked quick instructions. The exhausts died, and five men filed out of each boat, with hands held high. Rip blew a drop of perspiration from the tip of his nose. Empty space! It was a good thing Connie morale was bad. The enemy's willingness to surrender had saved them a costly fight.