“The thing we were looking for.” Excitement quickened in him then. “My grandfather Ishak and my father, Mohammed, they kept looking. Even though it was dangerous. Even though it was hard. Every year the terrorartist bubble moves outwards just a little. It is still alive, the explosion still happening. You know much about terrorart?”

“A little. Rohini started it, didn’t she? The Jakarta Event.”

“Time-dilation bombs,” Saleh said. “Yes, Rohini. There were others. ‘Mad’ Rucker who seeded the Boppers on Titan. Sandoval, who made the installation called Earthrise out of stolen minds on the moon. There were never many. And they were mass murderers, every one. But the art, I know people are still interested in it.”

“There are collectors,” Elias said. “Museums, too. What did you find?”

“This,” Saleh said, simply. He opened his bag and took out a small metal canister. It felt so light. “It’s the time-dilation bomb.”

Silent alarms must have gone off somewhere, because a moment later he had caravaners and drones both surround him. He never even heard them coming.

Elias let out a slow exhalation of breath. “And how did we miss that?” he said.

“It’s empty,” Saleh said. “The explosion, Dahab, everything? It’s still going on. My father, my uncle, they’re still inside it. An endless death, still happening. The robotnik pulled them into the field. Only I got out.”

He didn’t dare move. The weapons were on him.

Elias said, “May I see it?”

“Of course.”

Saleh gave it to the other boy.

He could see numbers dance behind Elias’s goggles. Elias nodded and the weapons around Saleh relaxed, if only a little.

Elias said, “It’s genuine. That’s a real find.”

“I told you,” Saleh said, defiant.

“You speak for your tribe?” Elias said.

“I speak for myself.”

“And the Abu-Ala? Where do the rest of your people stand on this?” Elias said.

Saleh shook his head. Carefully. “This is mine,” he said. “It is all that is left. The others will appoint a new speaker in time.”

“What do you want for this?”

“I want enough,” Saleh said. He was desperate. “It’s priceless, an original terrorartist artefact.”

“That is it.” Elias turned it over in his hands. Saleh knew it was lighter than it looked.

Elias said, “What do you need the money for?”

Saleh said, “There is nothing for me here. I want to go away. Far away. I thought. . . .” He stared into a space only he could see. “There’s a place called Central Station. It’s just the other side of the sea, and then beyond the desert. They say you can find anything there. They say you can get a ship off Earth as easy as getting a boat. I would like that. I would like go on a ship. Travel up to Gateway. Then farther still.”

“Mars?” Elias said. “The moon?”

“Titan,” Saleh said. “I always wanted to see Titan.”