Rip Foster in Ride the Gray Planet | Page 8

all it
does."
Rip had an idea what was coming, and he didn't like it. Nor did he like Commander
O'Brine. It was not until much later that he learned that O'Brine had been on his way to
Terra, to see his family for the first time in four years, when the cruiser's orders were
changed. To the commander, whose assignments had been made necessary by the needs
of the Special Order Squadrons, it was too much. So he took his disappointment out on
the nearest Planeteer, who happened to be Rip.
"The gases go through tubes," O'Brine went on. "A little nuclear material also leaks into
the tubes. The tubes get coated with carbon, Foster. They also get coated with nuclear
fuel. We use thorium. Thorium is radioactive. I won't give you a lecture on radioactivity,
Foster. But thorium mostly gives off the kind of radiation known as alpha particles.
Alpha is not dangerous unless breathed or eaten. It won't go through clothes or skin. But
when mixed with fine carbon, thorium alpha contamination makes a mess. It's a dirty
mess, Foster--so dirty that I don't want my spacemen to fool with it.
"I want you to take care of it instead--you and your men. The deputy commander will
assign you to a squad room. Settle in, then draw equipment from the supply room and get
going. When I want to talk to you again, I'll call for you. Now blast off, Lieutenant, and
rake that radiation. Rake it clean."
Rip forced a bright and friendly smile. "Yes, sir," he said sweetly. "We'll rake it so clean
you can see your face in it, sir." He paused, then added politely. "If you don't mind

looking at your face, sir--to see how clean the tubes are, I mean."
Rip turned and got out of there.
Koa was waiting in the passageway outside. Rip told him what had happened, mimicking
O'Brine's Irish accent.
The sergeant major shook his head sadly. "This is what I meant, Lieutenant. Cruisers
don't clean their tubes more'n once in ten accelerations. The commander is just thinking
up dirty work for us to do, like I said."
"Never mind," Rip told him. "Let's find our squad room and get settled, then draw some
protective clothing and equipment. We'll clean his tubes for him. Our turn will come
later."
He remembered the last thing Joe Barris had said, only a few hours before. Joe was right,
he thought. _To ourselves we're supermen, but to the spacemen we're just simps._
Evidently O'Brine was the kind of space officer who ate Planeteers for breakfast.
Rip thought of the way the commander had turned red with rage at that crack about his
face, and he resolved, _He may eat me for breakfast, but I'll be a very tough mouthful!_

CHAPTER THREE
Capture and Drive!
Commander O'Brine had not exaggerated. The residue of carbon and thorium on the blast
tube walls was stubborn, dirty, and penetrating. It was caked on in a solid sheet, but when
scraped, it broke up into fine powder.
The Planeteers wore coveralls, gloves, and face masks with respirators, but that didn't
prevent the stuff from sifting through onto their bodies. Rip, who directed the work and
kept track of the radiation with a gamma-beta ion chamber and an alpha proportional
counter, knew they would have to undergo personal decontamination.
He took a reading on the ion chamber. Only a few milliroentgens of beta and gamma
radiation. That was the dangerous kind, because both beta particles and gamma rays
could penetrate clothing and skin. But the Planeteers wouldn't get enough of a dose to do
any harm at all. The alpha count was high, but so long as they didn't breathe any of the
dust, it was not dangerous.
The Scorpius had six tubes. Rip divided the Planeteers into two squads, one under his
direction and one under Koa's. Each tube took a couple of hours' hard work. Several
times during the cleaning, the men would leave the tube and go into the main mixing
chamber while the tube was blasted with live steam to throw the stuff they had scraped
off out into space.

Each squad was on its last tube when a spaceman arrived. He saluted Rip. "Sir, the safety
officer says to secure the tubes."
That could mean only one thing: deceleration. Rip rounded up his men. "We're finished.
The safety officer passed the word to secure the tubes, which means we're going to
decelerate." He smiled grimly. "You all know they gave us this job just out of pure love
for the Planeteers. So remember it when you go through the control room to the
decontamination chamber."
The Planeteers nodded enthusiastically.
Rip led the way from the mixing chamber, through the heavy safety door, and