‘Oh, we will,’ said the other man, coming closer. ‘You,’ he said, turning back to the guard who’d tried to stop them. ‘Tell them who I am.’

‘Commander Willis, sir,’ the guard replied with clear reluctance. ‘Head of Ocean’s Deep security.’

‘That makes me one of the people responsible for the entire relief operation out here. And that,’ he continued, coming up closer to one of Ty’s would-be executioners, ‘means you do exactly what I say. So here’s the deal,’ he continued, his voice softening now into an agreeable we’re-all-friends-here tone of conciliation. ‘We want this man for questioning.’ He glanced briefly at Ty. ‘Your name is Ty Whitecloud, isn’t it?’

Ty managed to nod.

‘Those aren’t our orders, sir,’ one of Ty’s guards said. ‘Our instruction is immediate execution.’

‘Who told you that? Director Kosac?’

Ty glanced to one side, just in time to see the guard nod.

‘Well, Director Kosac is about to get a spiked boot up his ass that’s going to bounce him all the way out of Ascension and into a job someplace that’s going to make his time here look like a fucking holiday.’ Willis smiled broadly. ‘And if you don’t do exactly what I tell you, and I mean to the fucking letter, I’ll make sure you’re there to keep him company. Now,’ he added, gesturing to Ty, ‘since you’ve already seen our credentials, how about you do precisely what we tell you to, before you make things worse than they already are?’

Ty felt the grip on his shoulders tighten for a few seconds, then relax.

‘Sir,’ said one of his guards, before letting go of him altogether.

‘This way,’ said Willis, taking Ty’s elbow and leading him towards the waiting vehicle.

Ty followed in a daze, as the machine-head moved up on his other side.

‘Mr Whitecloud,’ said the machine-head, leaning down a little to speak to him, ‘My name is Ted Lamoureaux and you are a very, very lucky man. I hope you’ll be grateful enough to be as cooperative as we’re going to need you to be.’

Lamoureaux touched a panel on the side of the transport and a door slid open, warm air wafting out from within. Ty drew in the smell of oiled leather and cheap plastic, and felt tears prickling the corners of his eyes.

Lamoureaux gestured inside.

‘My hands,’ said Ty. ‘Please.’

‘Shit,’ he heard Willis mutter behind him, and a moment later he felt the plastic ties fall away from his wrists. He brought his arms back around, wincing at the pain in his shoulders, and climbed inside the vehicle.

The interior was cramped, and the air felt hot and close to him, after being out in the freezing cold. There were two rows of seats facing each other, and Lamoureaux and Willis sat down opposite Ty. The transport started to move a moment later.