‘Get moving!’ Nayl shouted from behind them. They started to run. Drusher wondered what else might be waiting for them at the top.

‘What does it mean when a gun does this?’ he asked, showing the pistol to Macks as they took the steps two at a time. The slide was jammed and locked all the way back.

‘It means it’s empty,’ she replied.

She looked back at Nayl.

‘Nayl, we’re all out of specials,’ she cried.

‘Damn,’ said Nayl.

‘Nayl!’ she cried. She’d seen something behind him.

The animations were already ascending after them, the slower ones hobbling one step at a time. But one was moving fast, much faster than the others. It was pushing past them, scrambling after the four fleeing humans.

It was lithe, jet-black and gleaming. Macks realised that its strange appearance was simply because it was covered, head to foot, in promethium residue.

It was Streekal. The oil filming her staring eyes was backlit by the green glow inside her head, like the rangefinder in a battlesuit’s visor. Her mouth was open and slack, and viscous ropes of promethium drooled out of it.

‘Move! Move! Move!’ yelled Nayl. He wasn’t sure if he and Voriet could reach the top of the stairs before Streekal reached them. But he knew for sure that even if they did, they no longer had any way of stopping her.

They ran for the top of the stairs. Nayl picked up Voriet again. Drusher and Macks reached the top. They looked around. There was nothing on the platform, no horrors looming to grab at them.

They turned.

‘Nayl! Run!’ Drusher yelled. He unlocked the slide and fired his pistol at Streekal, hoping Macks was wrong. The snub simply clicked dry.

‘Come on! Come on!’ he yelled.

‘Just get clear!’ Nayl roared back, straining at his limit to run and carry the interrogator. Streekal was only twenty steps behind them, ploughing up the stairs tirelessly, the light gleaming off her oil-swathed form.

Macks drew her laspistol.

‘That won’t do any good,’ Drusher yelled at her. ‘Haven’t you got the hang of this yet? Normal fire won’t–’

‘Shut up!’ she cried. She was fiddling frantically with the weapon, unlocking and resetting the powercell. With a snap of her wrist, she pulled a connector loose then rammed the energy clip back in.

Nayl and Voriet reached the top of the stairs. Drusher grabbed them and hauled them onto the platform so violently, all three fell sprawling together.

Macks turned to face the oncoming Streekal. The glistening black figure was only a few metres away. She could see the oil welling out of Streekal’s open mouth and spattering down her chest.

Macks dropped the laspistol onto the top step.

‘Everybody down!’ she yelled, throwing herself clear.

Drusher heard a high-pitched whine. It got fiercer and louder. A warning signal. Macks had rigged the pistol’s energy clip to overload and discharge.