Annoyed, Nina peered through the window at the vast expanse of the Gobi. Other than a single road angling across the pale brown landscape, there was no sign of human activity. ‘That’s a whole lot of nothing out there,’ she said. ‘Where are we?’

‘That is classified,’ Wu intoned from down the cabin.

‘I’m not asking for GPS coordinates, just a general idea.’

‘Professor Wilde has agreed to help us,’ said Cheng. ‘There’s no reason why we can’t be polite hosts.’

Wu frowned at him, then spoke in Mandarin. After a brief exchange with the student she withdrew, irate. Cheng smiled.

‘Do you outrank her or something?’ Eddie asked.

‘No, no. I’m not in the military. But the research into the Nephilim is a scientifically led project, and I’m a member of the archaeological team.’ His smile became almost bashful. ‘And it helps that my mother is in charge of it.’

‘Your mother?’ said Nina, a thought coming to her. ‘Wait – your family name is Hui, so . . . is your mom Dr Hui Ling?’

He nodded with enthusiasm. ‘She is. You’ve heard of her?’

‘Yeah, but not for a while. She wrote several papers about comparative mythology that I used as reference for my graduate thesis, which was – God, nearly twenty-five years ago. I haven’t seen any new work from her for a long time, though.’

‘She’s been very busy here. She started work on the project seventeen years ago, and became its director ten years ago.’

‘So you grew up where we’re going?’ said Eddie.

‘Mostly. My father stayed in Xi’an, so I travelled between them. But then he, um . . .’ His lips pursed. ‘He left, so I stayed with her. I grew up at the base.’ An overly casual shrug. ‘It’s probably why I wanted to become an archaeologist, huh?’

‘I know all about sharing your parents’ obsessions,’ Nina said quietly.

An uncomfortable silence followed, which Cheng broke. ‘Anyway! Look over here – that’s the city nearest to us.’

Nina and Eddie leaned across the aisle to see. Visible in the distance was a grey sprawl against the sandy brown, endless ranks of tower blocks surrounding a core of mirror-walled skyscrapers. ‘Big place,’ said the Englishman. ‘What’s it called?’

‘Xinengyuan.’ He pronounced it khu-seen-ang. ‘The name means “New Energy City” – it’ll be a showcase for renewable energy and solar power when it’s finished.’

‘It’s not finished? But it’s massive!’

‘It’s still being built. In five years, there’ll be eight million people living there.’

‘How many are there now?’ Nina asked.

‘About . . . ten thousand.’ He seemed almost embarrassed by the admission.

‘A ghost city?’ She had seen photographic examples in the past of the peculiarly Chinese phenomenon of newly built megacities with barely any inhabitants, but thought changes in government policy had ended the Field of Dreams approach to urban development: if you build it, they will come.