Their chances hung literally on a prayer ... which they had to answer all by themselves! Angus McIntosh vigorously scuffed the tarnished nameplate on the wrecked cargo carrier. Then he stepped back and squinted under shaggy gray eyebrows. Letter by letter, number by number, he coaxed out the designation on the crumpled bow of the spacer in the vine-matted gorge: "RT ... 3070 ... VG-II." His lean frame tensed with concern as he turned to stare soberly at the other. "A Vegan robot trader!" Bruce D