A tall man in a formal business suit looked down at Raymond. He was the kind of person the young man would expect to see behind a boardroom table sipping coffee and filling out ledgers. The businessman explained with apparent glee, “Building owners were illicitly storing contaminated stardrive fuel in underground storage vaults. Nice hiding place, right under an innocent-looking dwelling complex.” He shook his head as if in disbelief at the stupidity.

Raymond could barely find words, simply staring into the stinging fumes and furious heat. “Spaceship fuel… under our apartment building?”

“It must have been siphoned off, treated, and sold on the black market. But the vaults were poorly insulated, no protective systems. Everything by the seat of the pants. What a bunch of idiots. A disaster waiting to happen—and it happened.”

It sounded improbable—ridiculous, even. But he knew that before dawn most of the families would have been home asleep. He couldn’t believe it. Raymond’s knees went weak and watery, but as he swayed, the press of the crowd held him upright. Oddly, he even saw a large black Klikiss robot, one of the few that had chosen to come to Earth, staring at the fire with red optical sensors, as if fascinated.

A group of men in flame-resistant environment outfits marched out of the blasted front door of the complex. Two of them carried bodies, possibly still alive. But only two bodies… of all the people inside the building. Raymond couldn’t dare hope that one of those might be his mother or a brother.

“Can’t get up past floor seventeen.” One of the men spoke through a suit-transmitter so that his voice came out loud but filtered. “Walls are collapsed, and the doors are fused shut.”

“What do you mean fused?” asked the rescue commander.

“Welded closed, barricaded from inside, I don’t know. There wasn’t time to stand around and make a full analysis. Are the suppressant ships coming in?”

The rescue commander directed the team to a staging area. Up in the sky five cargo copters closed in on the swirling blaze. They flew like bumblebees, heavily laden with chemicals. Through amplified loudspeakers, the rescue commander bellowed to the crowd. “Everyone stand back. Stay clear of the fire suppressant activities.”

Before the lumbering mass of curiosity seekers could shift position, the cargo copters opened their belly-hatches and spewed copious amounts of greenish-white foam onto the inferno. Thermal updrafts and furious breezes trapped among the tall buildings flurried the descending foam, splattering globules in a broad radius. Splashed spectators backed up to get away from the mess, but the watchers were too crowded, and little more than a shock wave of disturbance rippled through the mob.