"I agree," the Connie commander said with obvious reluctance. "You may send a boat." MacFife’s Scotch burr broke in. "Federation _SCN Aquila_ to Consolidation Sixteen. Mister, my instruments are off scale, too. I’ll just send them along to ye and ye can check them while ye’re doing the _Sagittarius_!" "I object!" the Connie bellowed. "Come now," MacFife burred soothingly. "Checking a few instruments won’t hurt ye." A small rocket exhaust appeared, leaving the _Aquila_. The exhaust grew rapidly, more rapidly than that of any snapper-boat. Rip watched it, while keeping his ears tuned to the space conversation. Koa tugged his arm. "See that, sir?" Rip nodded. "Surely sending boats is too much of a nuisance," the French commander said winningly. "We will come alongside." "It’s a trick," the Connie growled. "You want me to open my valves, then your men will board us and try to take over my ship!" "My friend, you have a suspicious mind," Galliene replied smoothly. "If you wish, arm your men. Ours will have no weapons. Train launchers on the valves so our men will be annihilated before they can board, if you see a single weapon." This was going a little far, Rip thought, but it was not his affair and he didn’t know exactly what MacFife and Galliene had in mind. The _Aquila’s_ boat arrived with astonishing speed. Rip saw it flash in the sunlight and knew he had never seen one like it before. It was a perfect globe, about 20 feet in diameter. Blast holes covered the globe at intervals of six feet. The boat settled to the asteroid and a new voice called over the helmet circuit, "Where’s Foster? Show an exhaust! We’re in a rush." Rip ordered, "Take over, Koa. I’ll be back." "Yessir." He hurried to the boat and stood there, bewildered. He didn’t know how to get in. "Up here," the voice called. He looked up and saw a hatch. He jumped and a space-clad figure pulled him inside. The door shut and the boat blasted off. Acceleration shoved him backward, but the spaceman snapped a line to his belt, then motioned him to a seat. Rip pulled himself up the line and got into the seat, snapping the harness in place. "I’m Hawkins, senior space officer," the spaceman said. "Welcome, Foster. We’ve been losing weight wondering if we’d get here in time." "I was never so glad to see spacemen in my life," Rip said truthfully. "What kind of craft is this, sir?" "Experimental," the space officer answered. "It has a number, but we call it the ball-bat because it’s shaped like a ball and goes like a bat. We were about to take off for some test runs around the space platform when we got a hurry call to come here. The _Aquila_ has two of these. If they prove out, they’ll replace the snapper-boats. More power, greater maneuverability, heavier weapons, and they carry more men." There was only the officer and a pilot, but Rip saw positions for several others.