Rip Foster in Ride the Gray Planet

Harold Leland Goodwin
Rip Foster in Ride the Gray Planet

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Goodwin
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Title: Rip Foster in Ride the Gray Planet
Author: Harold Leland Goodwin

Release Date: April 10, 2006 [eBook #18139]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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GRAY PLANET***
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A Golden Griffon Space Adventure
RIP FOSTER IN RIDE THE GRAY PLANET
by
BLAKE SAVAGE

Golden Press New York Golden Griffon TM of Western Publishing Company, Inc.
Copyright 1952 by Western Publishing Company, Inc. All rights reserved. Printed in the
U.S.A. Published by Golden Press, New York, N.Y. First Golden Griffon Printing, 1969

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE
: Spacebound

CHAPTER TWO
: Rake That Radiation!

CHAPTER THREE
: Capture and Drive!

CHAPTER FOUR
: Find the Needle!

CHAPTER FIVE
: The Gray World

CHAPTER SIX
: Rip's Planet

CHAPTER SEVEN
: Earthbound!

CHAPTER EIGHT
: Duck--or Die!

CHAPTER NINE
: Repel Invaders!

CHAPTER TEN
: Get the Scorpion!

CHAPTER ELEVEN
: Hard Words

CHAPTER TWELVE
: Mercury Transit

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
: Peril!

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
: Between Two Fires

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
: The Rocketeers

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
: Ride the Planet!

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
: Visitors!

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
: Courtesy--With Claws

CHAPTER NINETEEN
: Spacefall

CHAPTER TWENTY
: On the Platform

CHAPTER ONE
Spacebound
A thousand miles above Earth's surface the great space platform sped from daylight into
darkness. Once every two hours it circled the earth completely, spinning along through
space like a mighty wheel of steel and plastic.
Through a telescope on Earth the platform looked to be a lifeless, lonely disk, but within
it, hundreds of spacemen and Planeteers went about their work.
In a ready room at the outer edge of the platform, a Planeteer officer faced a dozen slim,
black-clad young men who wore the single golden orbits of lieutenants. This was a
graduating class, already commissioned, having a final informal get-together.
The officer, who wore the three-orbit insignia of a major, was lean and trim. His
short-cropped hair covered his head like a gray fur skull cap. One cheek was marked with

the crisp whiteness of an old radiation burn.
"Stand easy," he ordered briskly. "The general instructions of the Special Order
Squadrons say that it's my duty as senior officer to make a farewell speech. I intend to
make a speech if it kills me--and you, too."
The dozen new officers facing him broke into grins. Maj. Joe Barris had been their friend,
teacher, and senior officer during six long years of training on the space platform. He
could no more make a formal speech than he could breathe high vacuum, and they all
knew it.
Lt. Richard Ingalls Peter Foster, whose initials had given him the nickname "Rip," asked,
"Why don't you sing for us instead, Joe?"
Major Barris fixed Rip with a cold eye. "Foster, three orbital turns, then front and center."
Rip obediently spun around three times, then walked forward and stood at attention,
trying to conceal his grin.
"Foster, what does SOS mean?"
"Special Order Squadrons, sir."
"Right. And what else does it mean?"
"It means 'Help!' sir."
"Right. And what else does it mean?"
"Superman or simp, sir."
This was a ceremony in which questions and answers never changed. It was supposed to
make Planeteer cadets and junior officers feel properly humble, but it didn't work. By
tradition, the Planeteers were the cockiest gang that ever blasted through high vacuum.
Major Barris shook his head sadly. "You admit you're a simp, Foster. The rest of you are
simps, too, but you don't believe it. You've finished six years on the platform. You've
made a few little trips out into space. You've landed on the moon a couple of times. So
now you think you're seasoned space spooks. Well, you're not. You're simps!"
Rip stopped grinning. He had heard this before. It was part of the routine. But he sensed
that this time Joe Barris wasn't kidding.
The major absently rubbed the radiation scar on his cheek as he looked them over. They
were like twelve chicks out of the same nest. They were about the same size, a compact
five feet eleven inches, 175 pounds. They wore belted, loose black tunics over full
trousers which gathered into white cruiser boots.
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