"They're after the loot, what else?" Nicko said.
"If you're right and I think you are, they must have a plan. And if the plan is what I think it is, they've got their ship ready for a quick blast-off."
Doree's face was tight with inner turmoil. "We've got to find father! We've got to help him!"
Mike took her hand. "We'll do our best, but you must keep a grip on yourself. Your going to pieces won't help."
Doree made an effort. "I'm sorry. I'll—"
Her words were broken off by sudden activity on the ship. Mike glanced out and noted the landscape had changed to one of broad cultivation. The rough jungle country had completely vanished. Obviously the ship had been moving at great speed, its effect on the passengers lessened by the huge glass shield in front of the ship's prow. Looking ahead, he could see the spires of a city in the distance.
But this was not the object of the patrol's concern. Their eyes were riveted to another ship—a strange shining craft that was moving in from the left at great speed.
Mike heard shouts of both consternation and anger in the odd tongue of these people as they appeared to be girding for battle.
The approaching ship was of radically different design than the one on which they were trapped. It was completely of metal and had no golden or jeweled decorations. It was long and slim and completely enclosed and had the appearance of a true fighting ship. None of its passengers were visible.
Nicko had been talking to the feathered warrior. The latter had sat silent during the brush with McKee and Talbott and Mike had almost forgotten his presence.