It was open 24/7 during term time. One reason he didn’t recruit any students for MI6 was that the current crop lacked experience of misbehavior. To be good spy material you needed time falling carelessly into other people’s lives. Even at this hour the library was busy. But it remained hushed and still served as a refuge, a place where it felt like the world couldn’t reach him. It had its own reality, separate from the clock and the calendar and identity itself.

The security guard nodded.

“Elliot.”

“Harry.”

“Late one.”

“Can’t sleep.”

The guard nodded. Gray-mustached, surely former military by his posture. Kane had befriended him out of habit: You always made sure security were on your side. He was still getting used to befriending people for no purpose. The only sounds inside were the hum of the heating system and the soft turning of pages. Did he want to leave all this for a rushed and ill-defined mission? Taylor’s request was framed with the assumption that you can go on a job and return, then continue where you left off. That was rarely the case.

Kane typed Ascension Island into a catalogue terminal. Three results: one book on marine conservation, a travel guide that covered Saint Helena, Tristan da Cunha, and Ascension, and a history of the island.

He found the history book on its shelf at the back of the library, blew the dust off. It began with the discovery of Ascension as related by a member of the Portuguese crew that had first stumbled across it. In the spring of 1503 a fleet of ships sailed from Lisbon, under the command of the great admiral Alfonso d’Albuquerque. The Portuguese had established their empire in India and set about emptying the place of spices, gold, and precious stones. When the native rulers began to fight back, Albuquerque was tasked with putting them in their place. This was the purpose of his voyage: not to find treasure but to spill blood. We left Lisbon on 6 April 1503, in a fleet of four ships: The St James, the Holy Spirit, St Christopher and the Catarina.

Usually they would have hugged the coast of Africa all the way down, but Albuquerque decided to swing out, to try the deep-sea route avoiding the reefs and shallows closer to shore. They sailed into the deep ocean and promptly got lost. After twenty-eight days they sighted land, but all hopes were dashed as it came into view.

We saw a multitude of ragged, craggy, sharp-pointed rocks for miles along the shore, appearing white with the dung of seafowl of several kinds. It was the most desolate land that my eyes had ever seen, like a land that God has cursed. I believe the whole world affords not such another piece of ground; most parts of it are the color of burnt brick, reddish, the substance stones, somewhat like pumice stones; the rest like cinders and burnt earth.