Jonnie looked toward the ore-plane landing field beyond the short road. Deserted.
The Scot carrying radio equipment answered his beckoning. The covering scrap of a tarpaulin was cascading rain. Jonnie checked the set. Working. He flipped to planetary pilot band and picked up the mike.
“Flight to Nairobi, standing by,” said Jonnie. It would sound like routine pilot traffic but a code had been prearranged with the two ships they had left near the power plant. “Nairobi” meant “Fly in to our beacon” and “standing by” meant “Don’t come in shooting, but be alert.”
Dunneldeen’s voice crackled back, “All passengers aboard.” They were on their way.
Jonnie took the mine radio off his belt and turned it to “Constant Bleep,” which was used by miners when trapped or caught in a cave-in. It would ac
