Gabriel closed rheumy eyes in anguish. "Funny, I always thought I didn't want to see the end coming. Now I'm sure it is coming I'd like to see it. Not knowing is too much like cold turkey."

"Silly girl. You just want to see which of our escape plans works the best."

"Escape plans," she snorted in a resigned amusement which nudged disapprobation. "Sure, Greg. Sure." After a while she asked, "What do you think they want us for?"

"Information. They want to know what we've discovered of their operation, how much of that we've told Walshaw. Once they know that they'll see what they can salvage. Hopefully that isn't going to be much, we've done a pretty good job up to now."

"Great. That makes me feel one hell of a lot better." She lapsed into sullen silence.

Greg guessed they'd been lying in the blank metal cell for a couple of hours before the hatch swung open.

It was Mark who drew the latches, accompanied by two more of Kendric's bodyguards. A biolum came on above them. After hours of dusk, the glare sent Greg's tear ducts into frantic action.

"Still on your backs?" Mark gloated. "I thought I'd be pulling you off each other by now. Or aren't you up to that? Maybe fancy something different, animals and the like? I heard you gland freaks are kind've warped."

Gabriel glared at him silently, realising just how nasty things could turn if she started antagonising him.

Mark bent down and released Greg's legs with a complex-looking mechanical key.

Greg was jerked roughly to his feet. Every ache and pain suddenly doubled in intensity. His legs nearly collapsed as a wave of nausea hit him. He saw the front of his dress shirt was stained by a long ribbon of dried blood; his nose had been bleeding again while he'd been unconscious.

One of the bodyguards supported him as he stumbled out into the corridor. It didn't possess anything like the ostentation of the upper decks. Pipes ran along the walls, red letters were stencilled across small hatches. The engine noise was more pronounced.

Another three bodyguards were waiting for him outside. Including Toby, who glowered with unconcealed menace.

"Christ," Greg croaked. "I must scare you lot shitless."

"Gonna have you, white boy," Toby whispered dangerously. "Gonna take you a-fucking-part."

"Not yet, Toby," Mark said, pushing a shaky Gabriel ahead of him. "When the Man has finished with him."

Greg was marched up and out on to the afterdeck. The sun was nearly full overhead. Well over six hours since they'd been snatched from the Duo. Would Walshaw have noticed? He'd told the security chief he would help to analyse the data in the Crays, but he hadn't given a specific time. Of course, Eleanor would be frantic, but would she ring Walshaw? And even if she did there was nothing to make him look here.