Lee could see Sabreur and Matchell exchanging glances. She said nothing though as, one by one, everyone went to the new-formed hatch and was lowered down in a cradle of articulated limbs. She suspected there would be a spirited attempt to grab Khan and get back to MI5 HQ with her, as soon as the two government types had found their bearings. But when it was her turn to leave—she and Mal were last, after the rat-creatures—that turned out not to be an issue.

The world they were shown—past the grey curtains of rain—was a dour green composed of rolling hills and copses. Yes, there was a river, but it didn’t follow the course of the Thames. And above all there was no London. She knew her geography. People lived where London was because there was good land there, easy to transport goods in and out, all that schoolroom stuff. The Birdmen had only built a village there because they were carnivores who didn’t plant, and they couldn’t support the numbers that would add up to a city. She glanced down at Stig, a weight of tension already gone from his wide shoulders.

“You said ‘going back,’ ” she remembered. “You meant back for you, not us, right? This is your home?”

He didn’t reply, but she saw the truth of it in his face.

“Nice place you’ve got here.” But she was thinking, This is where they come from? Humanity and the Nissa seemed close enough, and the Nissa were clearly technologically advanced. So…she’d thought that, should she ever see this place, there would be a city—as the rat-creatures had a city. She had braced herself for smog and walls and bustle and all that good stuff. Instead she could see…

A few handfuls of buildings, no more than a dozen in any one place. Maybe there were three separate hamlets of domed huts dotting the landscape. Fewer buildings than in the Birdmen village, in fact, as though the Nissa were pastoral remnants reverting back into some more primitive existence. The rain frustrated any attempts to see further, but all she could see was more of the same rural idyll. There were even goats, or at least grazing animals.

“You saw this before, right?” she asked.

Mal nodded. “Couple of times. They got a good deal, the Nissa.” She looked down at Stig, waiting below. “Less of them, and they managed better than we ever did.”

Sabreur was a dozen paces away, staring at the same vista. Lee decided to avoid him for the time being; he was probably furious to find that Stig hadn’t meant his London.

“So what now?” Mal asked Stig.

He jerked his head upwards, indicating the vast trilobite ship—currently acting as their outsize umbrella. “It’s working out the trajectory.”

“You never told me you had one of those.” Mal followed his gaze to the ship’s sky-eclipsing segmented underside.