He fired.

There was a small, sharp explosion.

The ScreeWee looked down in shock at the sudden blue stain spreading across his overall, and then back up to Johnny almost in bewilderment.

‘You shot me . . . in cold blood . . .’

‘No. My blood’s never cold.’

The alien toppled forward. And now he was smaller again, more like a ScreeWee.

‘And I had to,’ said Johnny.

‘You shot him,’ said the voice behind him. He looked round. The Captain had pulled herself to her feet.

‘Yes.’

‘You had to. But I didn’t think you could . . .’

Johnny looked down at the gun. His knuckles were white. With some difficulty, he managed to persuade his fingers to let go.

‘I didn’t think I could, either.’

He walked over to Kirsty, who was staring at the thing on the floor.

‘Wow,’ she said, but quietly.

‘Yes,’ he said.

‘You—’

‘Yes, I shot him. I shot him. I wish I didn’t have to, but I had to. He was alive and now he isn’t.’ There were more alarms sounding now, and red lights flashing on the control panel. On the screen, the Border completely filled the sky. ‘Can we go? How much longer have we got left?’

She looked hazily at her watch.

‘A minute and a half.’

He was amazed. He felt he was sitting inside his own head, watching himself. There wasn’t any panic. The one who was watching didn’t know what to do, but the one outside seemed to know everything. It was . . . like a dream.

‘Can you run?’ She nodded. ‘Really fast? What am I saying? You’ve probably won medals. Come on.’

He pulled her after him, out of the bridge and along the dark corridors. Kirsty was hardly concentrating any more; the walls glistened less. There were even nuts and bolts again.

They reached the capsule. Johnny ran from leg to leg until he found the button that let down the ramp. It seemed to take ages to come down.

‘How long?’

‘We’ve got fifty seconds . . .’

Up the ramp, into the seats.

There weren’t many controls. Johnny peered at them.

‘What are you doing?’ said Kirsty.

‘Like you said before. Looking for one marked “Doors Open”.’

The screen flickered into life.

‘Johnny? The doors open from up here,’ said the Captain.

Johnny glanced up at Kirsty.

‘We didn’t know that,’ he said.

‘Is the ramp back up?’

‘Yes.’

‘Doors opening.’

There was a clonk ahead of them, and a hiss as the air in the hall escaped through the widening crack. The twinkling, unreal stars of game space beckoned them.

Johnny’s hand hovered over the biggest red button on the panel.

‘Johnny?’

‘Yes, Captain.’

‘Thank you. You did not have to help us.’

‘If not me, then who else?’

‘Hah. Yes. And now . . . goodbye. We will not . . . meet again.’

‘Goodbye.’

Johnny looked at Kirsty.

‘How long?’

‘Ten seconds!’

‘Let’s go.’

He hit the button.