Jake moistened his thin purple lips and clenched the radiophone tighter. "Hello, freighter!" he repeated. "We're survivors of a shipwreck. Can you pick us up? Please answer." His voice grew more urgent. "Please pick us up! Our air supply is failing!"

Matt shook his thick black head of hair. "If they fall for this, they're stupider than I gave them credit for." His hand rubbed the gun hidden beneath his shirt. A fierce cone of light flared in the freighter's forward rockets, brighter for an instant than the sun's remote disc.

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