"Next time around," Rip called to the others, and led the way full speed ahead until they regained the safety of shadow. Rip suspected the stylus was somewhere above the rock and probably wouldn’t return to the surface for some minutes. While he was wondering what to do, there was a chorus of yells. A rocket sped between the Planeteers and shot off into space. "Our own rockets are after us," Trudeau gasped. There hadn’t been time to collect them all after Rip’s unwilling attack on the Frenchman scattered them. Now the sun was setting them off. Another flashed past, fortunately over their heads. The sun’s heat was causing them to fire unevenly. Rip hoped they would all go off soon and get it over with. "Three more to go," Koa called. "Watch out!" Only two went, and they were far enough away to offer no danger. Santos had been fishing around in the instrument case. He triumphantly produced another stylus. "It was under the sextant," he explained. "I thought there was another one around somewhere." "If we get through this I’ll propose you for ten more stripes," Rip vowed. "We’ll make you the highest ranking sergeant that ever made a private’s life miserable." Working slowly but more safely, Rip figured that slightly more than two and a half tubes would do the trick. Now to fire them. That meant finding a thorium crystal properly placed and big enough. There were plenty of crystals, so that was no problem. The next step was for Kemp to cut holes with his torch, so that the thrust of the rocket fuel would be counter to the direction in which the asteroid was spinning. Rip explained to all hands what had to be done. The burden would fall on Kemp, who would need a helper. Rip took that job himself. He took one oxygen tank from Kemp. Koa took the other, leaving the torchman with only his torch. Then Rip took a container of chemical fuel from Bradshaw. Working while running, he lashed the two containers together with his safety line. Then he improvised a rope sling so they could hang on his back. He wanted his hands free. Kemp, meanwhile, assembled his torch and put the proper cutting nozzle in place. When he was ready, he moved to Rip’s side and connected the hoses of the torch to the tanks the lieutenant carried. Kemp had the torch mechanism strapped to his own back. It was essentially a high pressure pump that drew oxygen and fuel from the tanks and forced them through the nozzle under terrific pressure. When he had finished, he pressed the trigger that started the cutting torch going. The fuel ignited about a half inch in front of the nozzle. The nozzle had two holes in it, one for oxygen and the other for fuel. The holes were placed and angled to keep the flame always a half inch away, otherwise the nozzle itself would melt. "How do we work this?" Kemp asked.