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'While the rest of the world have been trying to defend themselves against the alien threat,' continued Shuskin, 'the Americans have been collaborating.'

'Stealing,' said the Doctor absentmindedly. It's not quite the same thing.'

'We should be fighting together,' said Yates, finding himself, much to his own surprise, in agreement with Shuskin.

'We pirate technology from aliens all the time. Look at all of the IE stuff we have.' said Liz defensively.

'There's a difference between a videophone and one of those... things,' said Mike angrily as a saucer-like craft skimmed above their position almost silently, hovered, banked, and then turned, firing a steady stream of laser fire at the Waro.

'Agreed,' said the Doctor, looking up from the device he was working on. 'Unfortunately, some of our friends in the United States do not believe in collective security. They want the glory of saving the world all to themselves. I would suggest there are like-minded individuals in every country, Mike.'

'Can they?'

'What, save the world?' The Doctor looked across the desert to the blazing remains of numerous aircraft. 'The alien-derived planes are more manoeuvrable than anything the US

military has come up with for itself,' the Doctor said. 'But I tend to agree with Captain Shuskin. The Waro are too numerous. Now, if you'd be a good chap and shut up for a few minutes and let me finish this,' he continued, pointing at the machine, 'then maybe we can help them. They probably don't want our help, but I think they could use it, don't you?'

The Nedenah turned away from the spacecraft, and walked deeper into the bunker. They seemed peaceful and unhurried, but what little calm the Brigadier had disappeared the moment the CIA security personnel came into the room and started firing.

'Run!' he said, as he used Rose's weapon to return fire.

The black-clad guards ducked behind equipment, but kept advancing.

Somehow they managed to reach another spaceship.

The Brigadier couldn't tell how long it had taken them to get to the deepest bunker, or whether the Nedenah had ever accelerated their unhurried pace at any stage. It seemed that the creatures emanated an aura of dignified calm that was difficult to ignore, even when the bullets were flying.

The spacecraft was shaped like a symmetrical egg, its surface as smooth and polished as a mirror. It was larger than any of the ships the Brigadier had been shown, and it seemed totally untouched. He had a feeling that Control didn't want to admit to having been outwitted by the bug-eyed monsters.

Trainor lowered the steel doors around the chamber while the Nedenah busied themselves with gaining entry to their ship. 'The heuristic security devices resisted all attempts to gain access.' said one of the Nedenah. It wasn't a statement of pride or jingoism, but of simple fact.

Moments later a doglike slit appeared in the base of the vehicle, and a ramp extended down to the floor. The four aliens walked up into their craft just as the metal bunker doors rolled open again. Trainor and the Brigadier ran after the aliens.

Once they were inside, the ramp flowed back into place, moving like animated mercury, sealing the hull. The material that the ship was constructed from felt like warm metal, and it glowed when the 'door' closed, providing illumination.

The first thing the Brigadier noticed was a large chamber that adjoined what seemed to be the cockpit. Within were tanks containing more Nedenah. They were curled up like foetuses, looking more childlike than ever.

'I don't understand,' said the Brigadier.

'After all this time,' said one of the aliens reasonably, 'the food supplies were approaching exhaustion. They elected to wait in suspended animation for our return.'

'No, but...' The Brigadier paused, collecting his thoughts.

'They've been here all this time, locked in this spaceship, and they didn't try to rescue you?'

'We have higher priorities than merely the comfort of the individual,' replied the alien. 'Nedenah are committed to cultural