I thought for a moment that by some unfortunate chance it might land quite near us. But it went past. And then I saw that it was heading for a level, plateaulike surface a few miles further on. It dropped, cautiously floating down.
There was still no sign of Miko. But I realized that haste was necessary. We must be the first to join the brigand ship.
I lifted Anita to her feet. "I don't think we should signal from here."
"No. Miko might see it."
We could not tell where he was. Down on the plains, perhaps? Or up here, somewhere in these miles of towering rocks?
"Are you ready, Anita?"
"Yes, Gregg."
I stared through the visors at her white solemn face.
"Yes, I'm ready," she repeated.
Her hand pressure seemed to me suddenly like a farewell. We were plunging rashly into what was destined to mean our death? Was this a farewell?