‘HE IS BEN RYDER,’ she shouts with sudden ferocity. Roland flinches, the words stilled on his tongue. ‘It takes as long as it takes. You’re feeling the pressure because you think nothing is happening, but it is happening. Harry and I are training and learning to work with each other and Ben is adapting to his new environment. He just needs time.’

‘How much time?’

‘Ask me that again and see what happens . . . go on . . .’ Safa growls the words out, the intent clear on her face. A shift at her side. A slight motion from Harry that makes her ease back from Roland’s desk.

The heavy silence stretches. Roland waits for the tension to abate. The same as last time and the time before that. That Safa is right is just another irritation. In theory they can take as long as they need, but the lack of progress is eating away.

‘Are you under pressure from someone else?’ Safa asks, breaking the silence.

‘Pardon?’ Roland asks, caught off guard by the question.

‘I said are you under pressure from someone else? Do you want me to explain why it takes this long to train someone?’

‘No no.’ Roland waves a hand at her. ‘Nothing like that. No, you are right. It’s my perception at the lack of progress. I apologise.’ He exhales long and slow. The weight of the world on his shoulders and showing once more in those deep worry lines. He smooths his hair back and rises from the chair, walking over to the window under the open shutter to stare out into the valley. ‘It’s just me,’ he says after several quiet minutes.

‘Just you?’ Safa asks.

‘Just me and the inventor . . . well, one other person too, but—’

‘You’re gabbling,’ Safa says.

Roland stiffens at her tone. ‘The inventor told me when the end of the world was realised. It’s just me. I am the one running this. I arrange the financing for it. Me. Just me. So yes, there is no one else to report to, nor is there anyone else putting pressure on us, but I still wish to make progress and to do so as soon as humanly possible.’

Who exactly is Roland? How does he arrange the finances? Who is the inventor? Why did the inventor ask Roland for help? What did he mean when he said one other person?

‘So we have time then,’ Safa says as bluntly as ever as Harry stares forward and waits passively.

‘You asked Malcolm to get sandbags ready for a firing range. Why aren’t you using them?’ Roland asks, changing the subject.

‘He’s not ready.’

‘Not ready? How many times does it take to strip a weapon down before you can use it?’

‘It’s familiarity.’

‘I know exactly what it is,’ Roland says, turning from the window and speaking gently. ‘You’re worried about giving him a loaded gun.’