“I’m not doing this to be popular. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to be popular.” He tweaked his bent glasses and looked out of his one good lens at her. “What I need to know is where your father went to access VirtualJapan.”

“There is…” she started. She thought about it, torn between loyalties, then gave up the information Petrovitch wanted. “There’s a room below the garden which can only be reached from the Shinto temple. From the floor underneath there’s no sign it even exists.”

Petrovitch blew air out between his teeth. The climb to the top might finish him off. “So how do I get to it?”

“You can’t. There were only ever two people who could go there. I’d have to come with you,” she said. She looked at him from under her fringe. “If the New Machine Jihad is part of my father, I won’t let anyone harm it.”

“I’ll have to work some things out if we’re going to do this. It’s not going to be easy, but considering none of this has been easy so far, I’m due a lucky break or two.”

“Should I be sorry that you ever became involved? I mean, I’m not, but I’m wondering if I should feel regret.”

“I don’t know,” said Petrovitch. “Wishing I could change the past isn’t something I do.”

“Why did Hijo kill my father?” she asked. “Why did he have to betray us?”

Petrovitch shrugged the best he could. “Maybe he was always planning to do so and was waiting for the right moment, for when Oshicora-san was too distracted by events to worry about his back.”

“And perhaps something tipped him over the edge. Like kissing you. He used to look at me sometimes—you know, like that. I’m not sure my father ever noticed, but I did.”

“I don’t know anything about that.” He was uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. That and the gunfire which was creeping closer. “The only one who knows why is Hijo. If you ever see him again, you can ask him.”

“I will ask him,” she decided, “and then I’ll have him beheaded.”

“I’m sure that’ll concentrate his mind. We seem to have more immediate problems than getting revenge on Hijo.” He could see out of the corner of his eye, refracted by the broken lens, Carlisle beckoning them to join him.

As they reached him, he held out his hand to stop them going any farther.

“Zombies,” he said.

A sliver of ice touched Petrovitch’s spine. “Slow or fast?”

“Slow.”

“You’re pulling my peesa, right?” Petrovitch leaned around the corner.