‘Oh, that is wonderful.’ Roland sags into his chair, hungover and worried sick, but the relief washes over his face. ‘Really, I cannot express just how . . . I am honoured, thank you, thank you and . . . well, when can you get started?’

‘We need time to train,’ Safa says bluntly, standing at ease while looking over his head.

‘Train?’ Roland asks, going instantly back to looking worried again as he stands up. ‘How long will that take?’

‘As long as it takes,’ Safa says. ‘You want this job done, then we’ll do it properly.’

‘Miss Patel, I understand what you’re saying but we need to progress—’

‘Fifty years from twenty sixty-one?’ she asks. ‘Which is . . . oh, about a hundred million billion years from now, so we’ve got time. We’ve got as much time as we need.’

‘Okay,’ Roland says. ‘How long do you need?’

‘I just said. As long as—’

‘Yes yes, as long as it takes, I heard you.’

‘Look, we’ve agreed to do this for you,’ she says coldly. ‘We’ve all got skills the others need. Harry is about eighty years out of date and Ben needs to start from the basics. Anyway, you’ve got a time machine, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, but only for the intended purpose.’

‘Which is what?’ she demands.

He blinks and shakes his head. ‘So you can investigate and find out how it happened . . . so you can stop that happening. Also to extract anyone else you feel you need to help you. On that note, I have a list of people that—’

‘So you’ll be using the time machine for the mission, which may change as we progress.’

‘Yes,’ he says suspiciously to her. ‘But we cannot manipulate time for our own purposes.’

‘You already have,’ she snaps back. ‘We’re dead, remember?’

‘Okay, okay.’ He holds his hands out, palms facing her. ‘Fine, yes, I understand you need time to train, but please do so quickly. We have to make progress.’ He stops and looks like he’s expecting a show of gratitude. ‘What?’ he asks when it doesn’t come.

‘Equipment,’ she says, as though it’s obvious. ‘Clothing, boots, weapons, radios, kit . . .’

‘Weapons?’

‘Harry was using bloody spears back in his day and—’

‘Miss Patel, I do not envisage a situation where you will need to use weapons.’

‘No?’ she asks in mock surprise. ‘Then why us, sir? Who broke the world, sir? Was it some bad people, sir?’

‘Oh, for God’s sake. What weapons do you need?’

‘All of them, sir.’

‘What?’

‘All of them, sir.’

‘What does “all of them” mean?’

‘My team need to be able to use any weapon they pick up, sir.’

‘Stop calling me sir!’

‘Do you want a trained, disciplined unit?’

‘Yes,’ he sighs. ‘Fine . . . Safa? Is this really necessary?’

‘It is,’ she says seriously.