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drank fuel like a thirsty camel and that there was not enough of it left to take them back up-river. They were stranded here at the mouth of this evil swamp, trapped between the desert and the sea. Then, just as his black thoughts reached their lowest ebb, the communicator speaker crackled and a disembodied voice came through.
    â€œZ-K-One, we have you on-screen now. Time to go, Commander. Take off now.”
    Zela, who had every move mapped out in her mind, automatically spun her control wheel to face the skimmer downstream. The current caught it and flung them forward, and she slammed the power up to maximum. Within seconds they were hurtling toward the white wall of breakers where the river met the sea.
    Kananda jumped and again searched the sky. Jayna, who knew where to look, half-turned in her seat to point back and upward. Kananda turned his head and saw that one of the stars in the vast canopy was moving, a quick-silver gleam coming up fast behind them like a falling meteor. The pilot of the Super-Fighter/Strato-bomber was using the river as his guide and as the rescue craft lost height, the skimmer craft was rising up to meet it. The river and the sea dropped away below them, and like a giant silver bird, the larger aircraft loomed above them.
    Zela’s gaze was fixed on the control screen in front of her, which now showed the underside of the huge bomber in close detail. She matched the pre-agreed speed and height and waited, trusting the pilot above to make the final adjustments. The gap between them narrowed and slowly the bomb bay doors slid open and the magnetic clamps emerged and extended downward.
    Kananda was suddenly aware of how a fish must feel when it realized that it was about to be snatched in the talons of an eagle. He watched, mesmerized, through the canopy as the clamps came closer, and then there was a sudden jolt and a bang as they locked on to the skimmer. A red light flashed on Zela’s control panel and an audible signal sounded in shrill warning.
    â€œWe have you, Commander,” said the voice from the speaker.
    Zela cut her engines dead and the skimmer hung fast in the clamps. “All power disengaged,” she reported calmly.
    The clamp arms pulled them up into the belly of the Strato-bomber and the steel doors slid smoothly shut below them. As soon as the doors were closed, the parent craft was aiming her nose back at the stars, accelerating and climbing as fast as she was able.
    As they unbuckled their harness straps, Zela slid back the canopy hood above their heads. All three of them climbed out thankfully and Kananda stood for a moment to savour air that was marginally more fresh and tasted only slightly of oil and grease, which was an improvement on swamp stink. Then Zela quickly led the way forward.
    They found Antar on the flight deck. The tall, gold-bearded Alphan stood behind the pilot and co-pilot, looking over their shoulders at their flight screens. He acknowledged the three new arrivals briefly and then indicated the screens as they all gathered round to watch. The centre of the two screens each showed an electronically generated green image of their own aircraft, while in the upper left hand corner of the screens two smaller red fighter images were descending fast to meet them.
    â€œGheddans,” Jayna said. Her voice held a note of alarm and Kananda tensed.
    â€œA fighter patrol,” Zela agreed. “No more than we should expect.” She cast a questioning glance at Antar who seemed unconcerned. The flight crew were also complacent and seemed content to watch whatever might develop.
    â€œAll the communication traffic we have monitored shows that you three have stirred up a nest of stinging hornets,” Antar said. “So it was almost a certainty that they would pick us up the moment we broke radio silence and that there would be some attempt at intervention. It seemed prudent to come prepared.”
    As they watched, two green fighter images