‘Then there’s the amateurs. Idiots who have flung together homemade time machines that trail lethal radiation wherever they go. Looking for a quick and easy profit. Lottery tickets, betting slips and so on. They won’t all be as easily dealt with as the likes of Henry Plimpton. They think they’ll nip ahead to next Saturday, note the numbers, jump back and pocket the money. Just a tiny jump, they say. Not doing anyone any harm. A victimless crime. Except when next Saturday comes around and they and their past self are there at the same time and suddenly they’re both doing everyone a great deal of harm.

‘And then there’s the Hunter Division, of course. Everyone wants to be a Hunter. They’re virtually autonomous.’

She waited, but he said nothing.

‘And finally, the Religious Nutters team, who will target those seeking to prove or disprove the existence of their own or someone else’s god. Anyone with even the tiniest scrap of imagination can see just how dangerous they could be.’

She waited again. ‘Well, Lieutenant, which will it be?’

He stared at her in confusion. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand.’

‘These units will be up and running in the new year. I shall be taking requests from October onwards. I’m offering you a head start on everyone else. Which unit would you like?’

‘You’re offering me a choice?’

‘I am.’

‘Even after . . . ?’

‘The fault was partly mine, Lieutenant. I should have seen your frustration and I didn’t. Do you want some time to think about it?’

‘No,’ he said slowly. ‘No, I don’t.’

She pulled her scratchpad towards her. ‘In that case, in which unit would you like to serve?’

‘Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like the department dealing with the biggest threat – big business and organised crime. Ma’am.’

‘I rather thought you might. I must remember to collect my winnings from Captain Farenden.’

He couldn’t look at her. ‘Will I . . . am I still . . . ?’

‘A team leader? Yes, of course.’

He stared ferociously at his boots.

Commander Hay gave him a moment then rose to her feet and held out her hand. ‘Congratulations, Lieutenant.’

He took it almost blindly. ‘Thank you, ma’am.’ He swallowed. ‘Thank you.’

Captain Farenden was not happy. ‘You’re rewarding him, ma’am? One of his people tried to kill Major Ellis. It’s only by good luck that he experienced a last-minute fit of conscience.’

‘He was naïve and taken advantage of, Charlie. That’ll never happen again. He’ll see to that. I shall place some responsibility his way and cross my fingers that he blossoms.’

Captain Farenden blinked at the thought of a blossoming Grint.

‘Right, who’s next?’

‘Team Two-Three-Six are waiting, ma’am.’

‘All of them? They’re all out of MedCen?’

‘They are, ma’am.’

‘And functioning?’