The insect was silent for several long minutes. I remained frozen, my hands still in the air. I imagined the blackmail threat being passed up the chain of command. Maybe the biotech alliance were exploring the option of buying SeeNet and killing the story? But then they’d have to lean on other networks, too; they’d have to keep on paying to ensure the right spin. They could get what they wanted for free, if they let her live.

I said, “If Mosala survives, you can stop her from returning. But if she dies here … she’ll be linked in the public imagination to Stateless for the next hundred years.”

I felt a stinging sensation on my shoulder. I glanced down at the camera; it had been incinerated, and the ashes were tumbling away from a tiny charred patch on my shirt.

“The plane can land. And you can leave with her. Once she’s out of danger, file a new story from Cape Town on her plans to emigrate – and what became of them.” It was the same voice as before – but the power behind the words came from far beyond the island.

There was no need to add: If the spin is right, you’ll be rewarded .

I bowed my head in assent. “I’ll do that.”

The insect hesitated. “Will you? I don’t think so.” A searing pain slashed my abdomen; I cried out and sank to my knees. “She’ll return alone. You can stay on Stateless and document the fall.” I glanced up to see a faint hint of green and violet shimmering in the air as the thing retreated, like a glint of sunlight through half-closed eyes.

It took me a while to rise to my feet. The laser flash had burned a horizontal welt right across my stomach – but the beam had lingered for whole microseconds on the existing wound; the carbohydrate polymer had been caramelized, and a brown watery fluid was leaking out of my navel. I muttered abuse at the empty doorway, then started hobbling away.

When I was back among the crowds, two teenagers approached me and asked if I needed help. I accepted gratefully. They held me up as I limped toward the hospital.

I called De Groot from casualty. I said, “They were very civilized. We have clearance to land.”

De Groot looked haggard, but she beamed at me. “That’s fantastic!”

“Any news about the flight?”

“Nothing yet – but I spoke to Wendy a few minutes ago, and she was waiting for a call from the President, no less.” She hesitated. “Violet’s developed a fever. It’s not dangerous yet, but…”

But the weapon had triggered. We’d be racing the virus every step of the way, now. What had I expected, though? Another timing error? Or magical immunity for the Keystone?

“You’re with her?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll meet you there in half an hour.”