"Sure," said Suzi. "Greg's been Trinity from way back. Taught me all kindsa things." Her eyes met Eleanor. "Good, too, isn't he?"

Eleanor kept her face perfectly blank, emotions frozen, just as they'd been for all those years in the kibbutz. "Depends on the material he's got to work with, dear." Not the greatest comeback in the world, but pretty bloody good, considering. Even Greg seemed vaguely surprised; approving, too, she suspected. Suzi started laughing.

"So why the big reunion?" Des asked.

"I'm here to see Son," said Greg.

"Christ, Des, let the man through."

"Last fucking warning, Suzi, I'll rip you good if you don’t shove it."

"Just ask Father," Greg said. "He'll tell you my credit is good."

"Yeah? So what about her?" Des pointed at Eleanor. "I don't see no card."

"She's with me."

"No shit?"

"Des, the man has our card, that makes him one of us."

The new voice was deep, it didn't seem loud, but it carried to everyone. Authoritative, Eleanor decided. The Trinities were suddenly still and attentive. There was a hint of irritation in the voice, which she was very grateful wasn't directed at her.

When she looked round she saw a tall black man picking his way over the cracked concrete footings of a stillborn employment workshop. She thought he looked about the same age as Greg, moved the same way too, dangerous grace. Most of his two-metre frame was muscle. He was wearing combat fatigues, clean, with knife-edge creases, a blue beret sporting a single silver star; she recognised it as an old-style British Army regimental insignia. Greg's memory cores at the chalet were full of military trivia like that.

"Shit, yeah, Father. But—" Des began.

"But nothing! Man with a card is one of us, always. We don't all dress like crap. You got that?"

Des's head lolled about like a moody nodding doll. "Sure, OK, Father. I just didn't want to take no chances, y'know?"

The tension had evaporated from the other Trinities. Some of them grinned publicly at Des's squirming, led by Suzi.

"I know, boy. Now, is it going to happen again?"

"No, sir."

"I don't hear you so good." The big man's eyes flashed round the circle of Trinities.

"No, sir!" they yelled gleefully.

"Dismissed," he barked. Suzi flipped Greg a jaunty wave as the troop filtered away over the barren artificial moonscape.

Greg and the black man were bear-hugging each other.

Muscles slackened all over Eleanor's body in one convulsive shiver, she hadn't been aware how tightly wired she'd become. So many weapons, and not even Greg could've protected them if that animal Des had got it into his mind to shoot. Mucklands Wood was like nothing she'd heard of before, undiluted anarchy. The cold flush pricking her skin wouldn't abate now until she was back in the safe sanity of the Duo, heading out.

Greg and his friend released each other, both smiling broadly.

"Man, you've been AWOL a long time."