No more than ten minutes passed before the car came to an abrupt halt, and soon the boot clicked open once more. Hands reached in and pulled him out, and once more he was led through a series of twists and turns. When they finally tore the bag from his head, Saul blinked under flickering strip lights that illuminated a narrow corridor with peeling, whitewashed walls, and a stairwell at the far end.

They led him to a door, on which Narendra continued rapping until it swung open, revealing a surly-looking man in his early twenties. He wore faded work clothes and held an Agnessa submachine gun close to his chest. He nodded to Narendra and Eren, but spared Saul only a brief, contemptuous glare, before leading the three of them into what appeared to be someone’s living room. A TriView sat in one corner, while a couch and armchair were positioned on a thick, patterned carpet. The room smelled of a mixture of mint and cigarettes.

‘Where are we?’ Saul asked.

‘This was Farad’s apartment,’ said Narendra. He gestured to Eren, who merely nodded and collapsed into the armchair, placing the shotgun across his knees.

Narendra beckoned to Saul to follow him into what had clearly been Maalouf’s office, where a second TriView was mounted on the wall. Narendra left the door open, and Saul, glancing back towards the living room, saw that Eren could easily keep an eye on them from where he was sitting.

Narendra activated the TriView. ‘The database contains many video sequences we are still struggling to comprehend,’ he explained as he turned back towards Saul. ‘We want to know what they mean.’

‘You’re buried in shit right up to your neck, I think,’ Saul muttered under his breath.

‘I am a businessman, not a revolutionary,’ Narendra responded sotto voce, with a nervous glance towards the living room. ‘For all that I would like to see the men responsible for killing Farad pay, I would now prefer to be almost anywhere but here.’ He nodded towards the TriView. ‘Please, pay attention.’

Saul found himself watching several figures in bulky spacesuits making their way across what appeared to be a bridge that was illuminated by rows of lights. Tinny-sounding voices crackled with static, and a notice flashed up, warning them this recording was classified. To Saul, it all looked very flat and artificial, without the aid of his contacts.

The footage was raw and clearly unedited, and appeared to have been recorded through some kind of suit-mounted camera rather than through anyone’s contacts. The view shifted suddenly, as whoever was recording these images glanced up. Saul noticed that the bridge led into a passageway entrance in the side of a building of monumental proportions. An angled wall rose up and up above brbefore disappearing into a sky so black and empty that something about it sent a chill all the way through him.