“Nothing on the circuit?”

“Not a sound.”

“Okay. Let me know if anything changes. Meantime, let’s get a close-up. I’d like to see what they look like.”

The AI focused on the lead object. The others vanished off-screen. It was a sphere. Not much reflectivity. That was odd so close to the sun. “Do we wish to alert the passengers?” asked Rob.

There was no reason to believe the objects were dangerous. But he didn’t like things he couldn’t explain. He woke Mysha, his flight attendant, and told her what was coming. Then he flicked on the allcom. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “I’m sorry to disturb you, but we may have to maneuver. Please secure your harnesses.”

The objects were in precise formation and, as he watched, all nine began to turn to starboard. Jerry delivered a string of expletives. “They’re on a collision course.”

“Not quite,” said the AI. “If they maintain present heading, they will still pass to port. The closest of them will approach to within two hundred meters.”

He thought about easing away. But it was probably not a good idea. The first law of successful navigation was that when somebody else was close by, make no surprise moves. “Hold steady,” he told Rob.

“They are ninety seconds away.”

He’d flicked on the bank of harness status lamps. Two of his passengers were still not belted down. “Rob?” he said.

“I will see to it.”

Moonriders. He’d never taken their existence seriously. But there they were. “Rob, give me a channel.”

“Jerry, I have been trying to contact them.”

“Let me try.”

“Channel is open.”

The last two warning lamps winked off. Other lights came on. Some of his passengers wanted to talk to him.

Jerry took a deep breath. “This is the Ranger,” he said. “Is anybody there? Please acknowledge.”