"Hell," Beliakoff grumbled. "They've got themselves a robot linguist."
"—under direct orders from the patrol boat Moth. Heave to at once, freighter, and prepare to be boarded and inspected."
Beliakoff glanced at the planet looming large beneath them. He gestured at the power control to Kelly and said, "Hello! Hello! Do you read me? Your message is not coming across. Do you read me?"
"Stop or we'll fire!"
Beliakoff nodded. Kelly kicked in all the jets and they plummeted toward the surface. With his pilot's sixth sense, Kelly changed course abruptly. A blast seared past them, sealing a starboard tube for good. Then they were in the atmosphere, traveling too fast, the hull glowing red with friction. The heavy cruiser, built only for spatial maneuvering, broke off its pursuit curve.
"All right, freighter. This means your license. You gotta leave sometime."
Beliakoff shut off the radio. Kelly fired the braking jets and began to spiral in for a landing.
As they circled, Beliakoff saw the shattered rubble and ruin where cities had been. He saw highways filled with military columns, and, at the distant edge of the horizon, a fleet of military planes winging their way to a fresh target.
"What a mess!" he said. Kelly nodded glumly.