And the order went rattle-rattle, click-click, wink, blink ... and reached out and touched Doctor John Ward. Although _Colonel_ Ward's training had filled three straight days, there was one thing they forgot to tell him--what do you think about, really, when someone fires a cannon in your face? A knock came at the door. Ward rubbed his face back into an expression of awareness. "Come." Tahn entered briskly and strode to the opposite side of the table. His eyes held a level, challenging look. "Gliders say there are Grimnal coming up behind us along the coast. About--uh--two hours distant." "How many?" "There are four firsts, five seconds, twelve frigates and some corvettes." Ward patiently tapped the table. "How many corvettes?" "Twenty-three." Ward was thoughtful for a moment. "We still have them. But it still is not their whole force." "We hit them?" I'd better answer this one right, he told himself. They were now just below Pelo Break, about two hours from the Passage. There was about an hour of daylight left. "After the sun dies," he said, avoiding the word "wait," "we will swing to meet this new force. If the wind holds straight and steady, we will come across to them like sharks in the night." "Sharks?" Ward grinned. "A very savage deep sea fish of my world." Tahn relaxed, and a twisted smile came over his narrow face. "It will be a short fight," he said softly. III Aqua's sizzling sun was getting hazy as it settled behind lower Pelo Head, outlining the violent peaks like teeth in some savage jaw. Ward stood on the bridge of the first-liner, _Bad Weather_, and watched the fleet and the late returning gliders. He never failed to marvel at these ships--sleek, sea-flying catamarans, steady, tall and wonderously beautiful. Their twin hulls skimmed the seas with hardly a roll. Their speed was something you had to feel to believe. He watched the second-liner. _South Bird_, come around to catch her glider. Both soaring upwind, they aimed for an intersection. As they drew closer, two long booms with netting between were extended over the stern. Slowly they angled together. When it appeared that the glider would crash the bridge it pulled up, stalled and fell softly into the net. He never failed to exhale a long breath after such a landing--catching, rather. Launching was even more spectacular. The ship raced out on fast beam reach with its glider poised upwind on its two poles. Then a streaking corvette hissed up under the stern, swung slightly upwind, caught the braided stretch-line and actually yanked the glider aloft. Ward was quite sure it was something he never wanted to try. The _Bad Weather_ was coming around now. He caught the white flash of her glider high downwind. Tahn came to stand by him, his quick, cat-like motions betraying his eagerness. "They bring more news," he grinned. "The Grimnal in Anda Bay is starting to raise sail." Ward frowned.