Her driver returned to the topic of the Sandline security squad they’d passed. ‘Not much for them to do since they kicked out the black fellas, and after them, some of the refugee gangs that fetched up here back in the early days after the Wave. Proper reffos, I mean – boat people. Indonesians mostly, but lots of Malays too. Jesus Christ, there were some willing fuckin’ stoushes in those days, mate. That’s how those Sandline bastards got a look in. Cops couldn’t handle it, so the FPDA contracted in their own security. It worked so fucking well, they outsourced everything they could in the end. As long as they don’t crack the wrong head open, the private forces pretty much have a free hand.’

They’d driven on another block and Jules could see the lights of the harbour through the trees. In fact, it looked as though one of the giant warships of the Combined Fleet, sporting a South Korean flag, had parked itself at the bottom of the street. Of course, that was merely an illusion. It’d probably dropped anchor half a mile out.

‘Forgive my impertinence,’ she said with a smile. ‘But aren’t you working for a private security force?’

‘Yeah, but we’re more of an old-fashioned outfit. We don’t do much work in Darwin, or even the Territory. This is just a base for us. Most of our business is up in New Guinea, securing the mines and keeping loggers out of the forests along the border. Old-school stuff. Not this crypto-fascist bullshit.’ He waved his hand back in the direction they’d come. ‘Anyway, here we go. Just give me a second . . .’

Granger pulled a small hand-held radio from a pocket inside his jacket.

‘I’m in the golf buggy,’ he said. ‘On approach. Can I play through?’

A heavily distorted voice replied through a rush of static: ‘You are clear. Come on through.’

‘What on earth?’ Jules asked, bewildered by Granger’s out-going message.

‘A little in-joke,’ he admitted. ‘Reference to your stealing Greg Norman’s yacht.’

She shook her head as he accelerated smoothly towards the lit-up sign of the Banyan View Lodge, the motel she’d checked into after arriving in Darwin the previous night. It had begun life as a low-budget travellers’ rest, but there weren’t many low-budget travellers in Darwin these days. Most of the guests seemed to be miners transiting to and from the ore fields hundreds of miles south or deep out in the western deserts. She’d seen a shuttle bus running a large group of them out to the airport when she’d arrived.