Foluwakemi turned around. “Oh, shit,” she grunted.

“You,” the big man shouted. “Shithead. Who the fuck are you?”

Callum knew that being reasonable was never going to be an option. He drew the short carbine, switched it to single shot, and fired just in front of the man’s feet—not bothering to take good aim, just showing how nonchalant he was, how he was The Man now. The noise of the shot was astonishingly loud in the thin air. Everyone recoiled.

“I’ve got about seventy rounds,” Callum said clearly, “so I can probably kill about fifty of you before you reach me. Alternatively”—he raised the carbine and flicked on the laser targeting beam, slapping the red dot squarely on the man’s face—“I can take you all back to Earth. Your call.”

The man kept jerking his head about, trying to dodge the beam. Callum kept it aligned pretty well given the circumstances.

“Listen to him, Nafor,” Foluwakemi said. “He came through alone. They didn’t drop any survival barrels with him. That’s never happened before. He wasn’t renditioned. He came here because he wanted to; he’s searching for someone.”

“No way,” Nafor barked. He must have realized how much face he was losing in front of his followers.

“There’s a portal door in my backpack,” Callum said, raising his voice so everyone could hear.

That drew a universal gasp of surprise.

“Oh, yeah,” Callum said contentedly. “You heard that right.” He stopped and made an effort to dial down the arrogance. “I’m the only one who has the access code, so listen good. We are waiting until Connexion exiles my friends here; then—and only then—will I start the thread-up procedure. After that, if you want to come through after me, you’re welcome.” He saw Nafor draw a breath, his mouth opening to speak.

“No!” Callum bellowed. He raised the target dot slightly and fired another shot into the air. “No discussion! No arguing! That’s the way it happens. Now either accept that, or fuck off.”

Very carefully Nafor raised his arms. “You got it, buddy. Anyone who can get me out of here is my friend for life.”

Callum scowled, covering up just how shit-scared he actually was.

Foluwakemi cleared her throat.

“What?” Callum snapped.

“I think I know which longhouse your wife’s in. If you can calm down and not shoot me, I’ll take you there.”

She led him along the tracks between the longhouses, most of which seemed to have gullies of steaming water running alongside them. The gullies branched frequently, taking the water through low arches into individual longhouses. They’d only just started off when he realized that Nafor was following him, along with everybody else, all of them keeping a respectful distance. “I am not the messiah,” he grumbled under his breath.

Foluwakemi opened a door (made from sections of yellow barrel), and they walked into a longhouse. The air inside was thick with strong scents, and hot. The humidity was almost tropical. Hot water flowed down a shallow stone channel running the length of the building.