Smith glanced around the group. ‘I’m sorry,’ he told them. ‘We failed. They still have Mrs Redfern.’

‘Well then, there are enough of us!’ Hutchinson gestured to the boys once more. ‘There are only two of them. Never mind all this anarchist bunkum⁠ —’

‘Socialist bunkum,’ said Alexander.

‘It’s time for some good old British grit. Play up and play the game, chaps! We’ve nearly done it, we’ve knocked out three-fifths of their force! Listen, I have a plan…’

Smith stared at the young man as he started to make the words again, to spread his hands in grand gestures. Unseen, he wandered around the campfire to where Alexander and Hadleman were sitting. Smith bent down and picked up the Pod.

‘Mine, I think.’

Alexander looked up at him. ‘Is it?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Take care.’

‘I will.’

Bernice was standing with Tim and Anand’s group, much to Merryweather’s delight. The Captain had discreetly moved around the fire to sit by them. Benny was making loud coughs and trying to start other conversations as Hutchinson went through the motions of his speech. Every now and then she looked at what Smith was doing, desperate for him, yet not knowing what advice she could possibly give.

Still, she was surprised when he appeared behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘It was good to know you.’

‘Doctor, you’re not⁠ —’

‘Smith. Dr Smith. Call me that now, at least.’

Benny carefully adjusted his tie, whispering so that Tim couldn’t hear her. ‘You’re not planning on⁠ —’

Smith patted her gently on the arm. ‘Walk with me a little way, I don’t want to listen to that.’ He indicated Hutchinson, walking around the campfire, pointing in the air.

They wandered through the forest until they came to a dark glade, where the rising sun stretched the shadows of the trees into long, spectral shapes. Benny rubbed a hand across her face. She was so tired that she felt like she might fall asleep any moment. The sensation had come over her in the last few minutes.