Mennecken opened the door he had blown, rounded it and leapt onto the bonnet. He glanced aside at Corlackis and Stanton, who were now running towards the car, then he leapt down. His feet came down on something soft and went straight from under him. He went down flat on top of a ground skate and it bubbled at him and tried to drag itself on. He yelled with pure rage and drove his dagger into the creature. Its only reaction was to bubble some more and to keep attempting to move. Four deep stab wounds seemed to have no effect on it. It did not even bleed.

‘Get after her!’ yelled Corlackis as he came to the car.

Mennecken slid off the skate and stood. His clothing was covered with slime and he stank like something rotting in a tideline. ‘Fucking thing!’ he yelled and kicked the skate before turning and running into the alley along which Pellen had fled.

‘We’ll deal with the other one, then go after him,’ said Stanton, slapping his hand on the bonnet. ‘We’ve got about three minutes.’

Corlackis opened the passenger door and Daven slumped out of it. He raised an eyebrow. ‘Did you have to cut so deep, brother mine?’ he asked.

‘He could have taken them both with a gun. What the hell’s wrong with him?’ Stanton asked, a bad taste in his mouth.

Corlackis hit a release inside the car and the boot popped. He got hold of the corpse and dragged it out, then round to the back. Stanton helped him tip the man inside.

‘Mennecken can look after himself,’ Corlackis replied.

Stanton shook his head as he slammed the boot shut. ‘That wasn’t what I meant and you know it.’

‘Yes, I do.’

Stanton checked his watch, then looked behind. ‘We haven’t time for this,’ he said.

Corlackis nodded to him, then moved back. He took off his rainfilm and fastidiously draped it over the passenger seat. Stanton moved round to the driver’s side. As he got in he thought that this was the price you paid for using the most efficient killers; quite often they enjoyed it. He looked at Corlackis, who had yet to get in.

‘Come on. He’ll be here in a minute.’

Corlackis shrugged and climbed in. Stanton set the vehicle on low hover. The old grav motor had a hum with a slight edge to it that grated on the nerves. He turned off the charge on the screen and watched as dirty rain smeared it, before he set the vehicle drifting forwards.

‘There,’ he said, pointing, then looking at his watch. ‘Right on time to the second.’

The man they’d had trailing them all over Port Lock had just appeared.

‘Lucky it wasn’t the Golem,’ said Corlackis.