“Yes.” She nodded in Bibi’s direction, annoyed at the way she was being ignored. “My mother worked at the tech centre and has Level 3 info-clearance. You could ask her about it.”

“I’m asking you. But that is interesting. We had a PlAK once, but no one here could access higher than Level 4. The SATMAP would be really helpful.”

“There’s a whole heap you can do with Level 3 clearance,” Bibi said. “And a lot with an old PlAK. Did you keep it?”

Caroni didn’t acknowledge her. “Why’d you leave your mother in the culvert?” she asked Sorrel.

“We saw footprints in the cable car and were afraid to stay there. I found a trail. Wanted to see where it led, but day was coming. I could run, and she couldn’t.”

No one said anything more. Caroni looked at her hands.

“What’s going to happen to us? Will you let us stay?” Sorrel’s voice shook.

“I don’t know yet.” The Zorah turned to Bibi. “How old are you?”

“Forty-five.” Her voice was strong and almost defiant.

Caroni shook her head. “We don’t keep old people. Everyone has to leave the band at forty. Even me.”

“Why?” Sorrel asked.

“Old people need care. Takes too much out of the young. Triage – do you know that word?”

“She has the info-clearance,” Sorrel said.

“We’ve managed without a working PlAK for a long time,” Caroni said. “It’s tempting, though.”

“Old people know things. They have wisdom. Experience.” Sorrel felt her mother’s eyes on her.

“Maybe, yes. But this world asks more of the body than the mind.”

The Zorah lapsed into silence again. The candle flickered, and Sorrel’s hope started to ebb.

“Can I ask you some questions now?” she said.

“Go ahead.”

“Will you kill us?”

“Not directly. We’d take you down to Burning Rock Plain and leave you there. You wouldn’t last a day.”

“That’s cold.”

Caroni stared at her. “The opposite of cold.”

“I’d rather drown.”

The older woman shrugged. “Could be arranged. We don’t like dead bodies in the river, but… Anyway, ask your questions. I’ve got things to do before daybreak.”

“What is this place?”

“A ravine. We call it Jiba. The river was underground before, but we think the roots of the trees and plants could still reach the water, so they grew tall. Insects and birds came. Then ferals. The river broke out in an earthquake. We found it by accident – one of us, Lane, fell down the cliff. We were looking for the river – we could hear it. Lane died, of course.”

“What d’you call the river?”

“Sacred.”

“How long have you been a band?”

“Six years, maybe. Not always the same people. I’ve been Zorah for three.”

“Are you all female?”