I tried to figure out how I’d go about getting the recordings. The camera had to be sending the data somewhere—maybe a local node? I walked down the stairwell in the centre of the platform, looking for some sort of office. No good. There was hardly any station beyond the platform, just a few locked doors. One was a lift, another a supply closet. The third was some sort of switch room. They were locked, but it was only a simple padlock. I could probably pick it . . . I looked up to see that the man was still up there on the platform, and annoyingly, he’d chosen to stand right near the top of the stairs. He was talking into his mobile in French, and ignoring me completely, but he’d have a perfect view of anything I did. Will you just get on your train and go away?

Maybe there was some other way I could get the recordings. If I . . .

Wait a second.

That man had been here when I’d arrived. He hadn’t boarded the northbound train that I’d taken to get here. And he hadn’t boarded the southbound train that had just left.

If he wasn’t waiting for a northbound train or a southbound train, what was he doing here?

Without looking directly at the guy I studied him through the futures. He was a little taller than average, dressed warmly in a woollen cap and a long coat. Most of his face was hidden behind a beard and dark glasses. As I watched, he started strolling down the stairs towards me, still talking into his phone. “Allons, ma chérie, ne sois pas comme ça. Tu sais que ce n’est pas elle. Je viens de . . .”

He still wasn’t looking in my direction. From his body language it didn’t even look as though he’d noticed I was there, but my instincts were starting to sound a warning. “Allez,” he said. “Allez, allez, allez. Ce n’est pas ce que j’ai dit. Non, tu sais . . . Je n’ai pas dit ca. Allez . . .”

The two of us were alone in the station entrance. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, reflecting off the white tiles of the walls. The man was halfway down the stairs; his course would take him behind me and out onto the long path heading through the construction site to the main road. Something in my precognition was trying to catch my attention, and I looked into the short-term futures of what would happen when he—

Oh shit.

All of a sudden I realised just how isolated we were. There were no staff in the station, no passengers on the platform, and the next train was still four minutes away. The construction site around us was deserted. There were still security cameras . . .

. . . and how much help were they yesterday? I was on my own. Casually I shifted position, my right hand drifting to my belt. I didn’t turn around and the man disappeared out of my field of vision. He was still talking. “Tu sais que je n’ai pas . . . je n’étais—”