The Initiator jumped to her feet. “Ruth's right. And what we need now is a hot meal. Who's got today's dinner in their pack? All right, Helen, get it out. The water's almost boiling. It'll be ready in no time. And afterwards we'll make our own Web. That's all that's really wrong. We're missing the Web.”

So, after a stew of dried vegetables and yeast cakes, they rinsed the plates and tidied up the camp site. Then they made up the fire and sat around it, holding hands, concentrating their forces. Slowly, waveringly, the Web rebuilt itself, a poor weak thing compared with the wonder of the Web of the whole community, but nevertheless a Web.

“None of us is alone,” said the Initiator softly, as they sat with the firelight dancing on their faces. “We have each other. Together we will be strong. Together we will succeed.”

Sleep came slowly that first night in spite of their fatigue. In her tent with Angela, Faith, Charity and the Initiator, Ruth lay rigid, listening to the crackle of cooling embers and the whisper of wind across the grass. A stone at the edge of the fire suddenly exploded and they all sat up, stared wildly at each other, and sheepishly lay down again. An owl drifted by, its eerie hunting call scaring them all again. Ruth shivered. It had seemed such a great adventure, back under the Dome.

She fell asleep at last and dreamed that she was in Tomi's body, sleeping on the hard ground under the stars without even a blanket. Hungry and cold. Friendless and alone. She woke in cold despair and sat up, shivering. It was all rig ht. There, around her, were the huddled shapes of her sleeping friends. She wasn't alone. The wind shook the synthetic cloth of the tent, but it could not penetrate it. She snuggled into her sleeping bag and slept without dreams until dawn.

For the whole of that day they trudged eastwards across the grassy plain. Slowly the mountains crept closer. By evening they were less than six kilometres away. During the morning they had stumbled across a strange line, running as straight as a ruler from north to south. When Bryan scraped away the meagre soil he found a black hard surface.

“It must be a road,” he said. “See how straight it runs.”

“From the olden days.” Ruth touched it warily.

“Imagine the cars,” said Karol, “travelling at a hundred kilometres an hour on roads like this, criss-crossing the country. People on the move. All the time moving.”

“I wonder why?”

They stared at the green line that ran like a thread across the expanse of grassland.

“If only we could find a road going east we could make much better time. This moss and short grass is like a carpet to walk on. “