The pod usually reminded Chevie of a science museum exhibit, with its retro design and faded metallic finish, but now the machine seemed alive and totally functional, whatever its function might be. The thick power cables at its base hummed and crackled like electric eels, and a dozen light clusters flashed complicated patterns in total unison.

This must be the day the important man comes out of the pod, which is impossible.

“You there, in the... er... pod,” she called, feeling more than a little silly. “Come out with your hands up.”

No one emerged from the metal pyramid, but a hatch vented gas, then dropped with a loud clang to the floor. Ghostly sheets of steam floated from the interior.

Well, that’s new, thought Chevie, checking with her thumb that the safety on her gun was off.

Inside the pod, orange light flickered, casting weird, shifting shadows on the wall.

There’s something alive in there, Chevie realized.

Riley felt every molecule in his body coalesce, compacting until his senses returned.

I am alive, he rejoiced, until the bitter cold settled upon him, and his teeth chattered with a violence that cracked a molar.

His hand still gripped the murder weapon, which was even now lodged in the chest of the murdered old geezer.

I cannot let go, he realized. My fingers are locked.

Riley tried to take stock of his surroundings, as Garrick had taught him.

He was contained in a metal tank with numerous fairy lights a-flashing on the cold walls.

I have brought this magical gent back to his people with a blade in his body and my hand on the blade. They will see me swing for this.

Escape, his instincts told him. Escape before you are in the dock for murder or, worse, Garrick finds a way to find you.

But the cold held him like a boulder strapped to his back; and Riley knew that, like thousands of street urchins every winter, soon he would sleep and then he would die.

Chevie rose on her haunches, then moved stealthily toward the hatch, keeping her gaze pointed through the gun sights.

“Come out with your hands up,” she ordered once more, but again nothing emerged from the pod.

It may have taken three seconds to reach the hatch, but to Chevie it felt like an age. Everything slowed down as adrenaline coursed through her system, stimulating her heart rate, dilating her blood vessels and air passages. She saw sparks tumbling slowly from the conduits and steam clouds seemed to stand still in the air.

Keep your focus, Special Agent, she told herself.There is someone in that pod.

She could hear scrabblings inside.

Was it a dog? An animal?

How do I warn an animal?

Suddenly time sped up again, and Chevie found herself in front of the hatch. Cold radiated through the opening and orange sparks moved unnaturally toward one another, coalescing into something solid.