Three aircars were parked there and, oddly, a helicopter. It was probably a casualty of the supposedly smooth transition from fossil-based fuels to fusion energy and hydrogen transport, Saul surmised. That smooth transition seemed to be failing along with everything else, with the result that people were dying every day, in their hundreds of thousands. He now made straight for Coran’s vehicle, holding out the implant test unit before him, the car’s locking system responding to it by disengaging. Stepping inside, Saul tossed the holdall on to the back seat and set the tester down beside him. The console arrayed before the single joystick had also unlocked, so he pressed the start button and immediately the aerofans began to hum up to speed.

‘Now we have a problem,’ Janus informed him.

‘And that is?’

‘Coran’s boss is trying to contact him via his fone.’

‘What’s the boss’s name?’

‘Ahkmed Argul – but I suspect the proper form of address in this case is ‘‘Director’’.’

‘Yes, quite. Route him to my fone, and give me voice overlay.’

‘Where have you been, Coran?’ Argul immediately enquired.

‘My apologies, Director,’ Saul replied. ‘The mapping basement of the gene bank here is a fone deadspot.’

‘I see. I’ve also been informed that your bodyguard is out of contact, too. I do hope you aren’t having problems there . . .’

‘Aiden King was being a little unhelpful, so I left Sheila down there to have a chat with him. Beside that, everything is proceeding as per schedule.’

The car’s aerofans up to speed now, he raised the joystick up one notch, to take the machine about a metre off the deck, then eased the car back and round towards the cargo lift, which lay just behind the tail fan of the helicopter.

‘Good. Oversight is anxious to get this done, as resources need to be redistributed fast.’

Interesting. Saul decided to fish for information. ‘Such a tight schedule,’ he observed as he settled the car down again.

Argul made a hacking sound of irritation. ‘Coran, we don’t discuss the schedule over the air, and I think you know why I’m really calling.’

‘My apologies. I haven’t been feeling so good since eating a sandwich from King’s vending machine.’

‘Remiss of you,’ said Argul, ‘but I’m not accepting any excuses. Where is that distribution report for the Straven Conference? You’ve got three days before that’s due to be the main topic of discussion, so make damned sure it’s in.’

‘Yes, sir, at once. I’ve been a bit snowed under . . .’ Saul shut down the car, and climbed out, heading round to the cargo lift.

‘And Coran, if you do another of your disappearing acts, that’ll be another two points taken off your status. That’s not something you can afford right now – you know how difficult it is staying on the shortlist.’