‘I’m Esic,’ the man said. ‘Mind how you go and watch out for those ursids, eh?’

Drusher wandered up the slope from the pool, and saw Nayl coming through the trees towards him. Nayl looked aggravated. He was lugging a large, matt-black lasrifle.

‘What’s the matter?’ Drusher asked.

Nayl slithered to a halt on the mossy slope, and glared at Drusher. He activated the vox-set fixed to his collar.

‘I’ve found him,’ he said. ‘Stand down.’

‘What’s the problem?’ Drusher asked.

‘You left the fortress.’

‘So?’

‘You don’t go out alone. Or without permission.’

‘Why?’ asked Drusher.

‘That’s what Eisenhorn instructed,’ Nayl snapped. ‘Besides, you must have realised it’s not safe out here.’

‘Safe from what?’ asked Drusher.

‘Don’t be difficult,’ said Nayl. ‘Come on. Follow me back.’

‘There’s a man down here,’ Drusher said. ‘It’s odd, actually, he–’

‘What man?’ asked Nayl.

Drusher turned to point.

Down by the pool, there was no one at all.

Eight

EIGHT

After Life

‘I just don’t understand,’ Drusher kept saying.

‘Then stop trying,’ said Macks. They were in the old kitchen of Helter Fortress, and she was brewing caffeine in a copper pot.

‘I suppose he could have wandered away when my back was turned,’ said Drusher. ‘But he said he’d been there for hours, and that can’t have been the case, because…’

His voice trailed off. He realised he was chafing his upper arms with his hand, and was still wearing his coat.

‘It’s so cold in here,’ he said.

‘It is,’ she agreed.

He walked over to the sink. His breath was making steam in the air.

‘There’s ice in the sink. Frost on the… on the inside of the windows. Macks?’

‘We’ve been told to ignore it,’ she said.

‘Macks, it’s a warm day outside–’

‘Is it?’ she asked wearily. She put two tin cups of caffeine on the old table.

‘Drink,’ she said.

Drusher peered up through the window. The sky was very dark and unsettled. It looked like evening setting in, but it was still mid-afternoon.

‘Is there a storm coming?’ he asked.

‘I guess there must be,’ said Macks.

He sat down, facing her.

‘What the hell’s going on, Germaine? I walked out of the gates not two hours ago, and it was sunny and clear. Now I come back and it’s like… midwinter.’

She shrugged. She looked uneasy, and Germaine Macks seldom appeared uneasy.

‘There’s stuff going on, and we’re instructed not to ask questions,’ she said.

‘That’s not really good enough,’ he replied.

‘It has to be for me,’ she said. ‘This is my job. I’m assigned to assist.’

‘Well, I’m not,’ he said. ‘I think I’ve had enough of this. I think I might go.’

She looked at him.