Thomas left. Connor watched him go, then went into the bathroom and ran a shower.

“Don’t get the bandage wet,” Anne called. There was no reply. She swore, set her daughter down.

“I need to throw some clothes on.”

She went to the bedroom. It looked like the girl was about to cry again. Kane crouched, took a pencil from his pocket.

“Seen anyone bend a pencil before?”

She shook her head.

“First you try.”

She had a go, and then he took the pencil back and showed her the trick. She asked to check the pencil again.

“You’re a Brit,” she said, sniffing, as if this explained his magic powers.

“That’s right. Where are you from?”

“Here.”

“That’s a special place to be from. I like your name.”

“It means stars.”

“Your name?”

“Look.”

She held out a hand and led him to the dining table.

“Put the chair by the shelves,” she said. He moved a chair to the bookshelf, and she stood on it and retrieved a pair of binoculars.

“Now put the chair by the window.”

“Are you allowed to use those?”

“They’re mine.”

Kane set the chair up by the window. She climbed up and peered through the binoculars. Then she confessed: “I don’t know which one it is. Carina is up there. A million light-years away. It’s a consolation.”

“A constellation?”

“Yes.”

“How many miles is a light-year?” Kane asked.

“A million million miles.”

“A long way.”

She offered him the binoculars. “See if you can find it.” Her mother returned while he was searching the night sky. Anne Lindgren was in uniform now: a dark blue officer’s uniform, but not like any he’d seen before. She saw Kane notice it and raised her eyebrows as if to say: Well, this is me. This is the work outfit.

“I was showing him my consolation,” the girl said.

“Very good. You go back to bed, or you’ll be falling asleep all day tomorrow. And we might have some packing to do.” Anne checked the clock. It was half past four. Thomas had been gone fifteen minutes. Ten to drive to Georgetown, another ten to retrieve the equipment if he was lucky, then what?

“Is he contactable?” Kane asked.

“No.”

Kane listened for sirens. The night had quietened. Even the helicopter was down. If Thomas never returned? If those responsible ganged up to stop him in some way? Anne could establish US military support, perhaps. A few men at least. They might have to override the Administrator. That was going to get lively.

Anne took her daughter to the bedroom and reemerged a moment later, closing the door quietly behind her.

“She’s in bed, and she knows she’s supposed to stay there. Thank you so much for this. I’ll be right back. Connor?” Anne called through the bathroom door. “I have to pop out. Edward’s here. Try to get some rest. Connor?”