“Just don’t overdo it,” said Kitten, moving to join him. “It seems we’re in for an extensive journey by water. And if you get a cramp out there, I’m sure as hell not towing you.”

They were down to the last pair of hors d’ oeuvres and Mal was dreaming of distant steaks when the youngster returned. His clothes were dirty, with patches of grime and oil staining the coveralls. The flying snake was perched on its same shoulder. It was coiled tight, the triangular head holding steady and unwinking a foot in the air. The pleated wings were only half furled, ready for instant flight. The snake gave them a soulless once-over, decided that no one in the room was a candidate for instant destruction, and relaxed somewhat.

Philip’s voice was low and he was panting hard but evenly.

“After me now, quickly!” Without looking back he turned and left.

They followed. In the lead, Mal saw that the youth was already at the end of one hallway, waiting where it intersected another. As soon as he spotted Mal, the youngster disappeared around the corner. He reappeared a moment later and beckoned urgently. They ran to join him.

“Stay low and quiet, and along the far side,” he whispered. “And watch out for the bodies.”

He turned and led them up a corridor.

They passed several doors, all unopened. Once their guide gestured for a halt and they all froze while voices got louder somewhere up ahead, then faded. They continued forward. The only sound was of controlled breathing. They came to a door set in a low recess, which was slightly ajar. Philip disappeared inside, returned almost immediately. Kitten and Mal both had to stoop to get through the sub-two-meter overhead. Mal noticed the metal engraving in the door.

BIOENGINEERING PERSONNEL ONLY

ADMITTANCE RESTRICTED

Besides bending, Mal and Kitten had to step high to avoid stumbling over the two corpses that lay crumpled just inside the entrance. Even in the dim light Mal could tell how one had died, from the unnatural angle at which his head rested. Dressed in mechanic’s overalls, the other lay prone with an unfired sonic pistol in one hand. His other hand covered most of his face. Which was just as well, if the long grooves seared into the revealed cheek were any indication of what lay beneath. Milk-white bone gleamed at the bottom of one groove. The muscles in the man’s face and arm were frozen at full contraction. What the hand covered would not be pretty, no. The flying snake had been at work here.

Kitten was busy examining the numerous long tunnels which led from the small room. Clearly they were in the maintenance arteries of the island. Water trickled along the floor of several dark corridors, disappeared into unseen drains. The natural stone walls were damp at the entrances to some, hot and dry at others. None rose higher than the cramping height of the room they were in. Philip turned without speaking and plunged down the one closest on their left. At least it was a little wider, if not really spacious.