«No worries on that score.» She turned to Fakhud, who even managed to look mildly embarrassed. «Time for you to go.»

«You are correct. And I apologize for bringing disharmony to the lives of such decent people as yourselves. I never meant to cause any trouble.»

«Not here,» she said scathingly.

He bowed his head.

Jane appeared in the doorway. «People coming.»

«Who?» Amanda asked.

«Dunno. They're on horses, four of them.»

«Shit.» Amanda glared at Fakhud. «Police?»

«I regret, that is a strong possibility.»

«Oh great. Just bloody wonderful.»

«All you have done is treat a man who claimed to have fallen from his horse. As I told you, it was for the best. It would go badly upon you for harbouring fugitives otherwise.»

«Please, don't use your weapon. My son is here, and the pickers are completely innocent.»

«In the name of Allah the compassionate, you have my word I shall not. Do you intend to turn me over to them?»

Amanda licked her lips, mind awhirl with indecision. He was too proud to plead, holding his head stiffly, though his forehead was beaded by sweat. For the first time, Blake was looking worried, his cockiness dissolving under her stare. The implications of what he'd done were finally sinking in. If nothing else, she was pleased about that.

«I don't know,» she said. If Fakhud was what she suspected then she ought to run out yelling for the police. But . . . the Security Ministry was dealing out a lot of rough justice these days, all in the name of quelling and discouraging the disturbances . Even a criminal deserved a fair trial; she'd never abandoned that belief. «I'll see what they have to say first. Blake, at least get him out of the kitchen; they'll be able to see him from the farmyard.»

«Right. The cold cellar?»

«Up to you.» Don't incriminate yourself, think of Guy.

Amanda went out into the farmyard, carefully closing the bottom half of the kitchen door behind her as she went. A big hound was already trotting in through the open gate. It took a considerable effort on her part not to scurry back into the kitchen. The creature must have been genetically modified, powerful muscles flowed smoothly under a short shiny-black hide. Its ancestry was more big game cat than canine.

«Probably affinity-bonded,» Jane said. «Remember, that means its master can hear and see everything it can.»

Amanda didn't trust her voice, she simply nodded.

«I'll go and get the pickers.» Jane turned slowly, and began walking towards the southern orchard. The hound swung its head to follow her, but didn't make any other move.

They were police. Their distinctive blue-grey tunics were visible while they were still a couple of hundred metres from the farm. Amanda waited patiently as the four horses walked unhurriedly towards her. She hated the arrogance of their approach, the way she was made to feel inferior, not worth them making an effort over.

Sergeant Derry was the leader, a black woman who must have massed nearly twice Amanda's body-weight. It wasn't fat, just muscle bulk. Amanda wondered what the woman's blood chemistry would be like to produce that kind of grotesque growth; she must have received several hormone gland implants. Her white and beige stallion was built on the same scale, carrying her without any noticeable discomfort. The three constables riding with her were normal men.