He smiled. “Just thought I’d take a walk and clear my thoughts. It’s strange, you calling me that, but I kind of like it. It makes me feel more like a first-lifer and forget that I might only have nine years left.”

“Don’t say that. Things change, inventions move on. What if there’s a way to extend your second life, and we just haven’t found it yet? Maybe we can find a way to move your frequency into newly mined qwortzite.”

“You never see a problem you can’t fix, do you?”

She shrugged and looked at him. For a moment, she let herself imagine the boy he was in his first life; perhaps chestnut hair, green eyes, the same warm side-smile he had as a personifate.

“The masters are worried the cloud cover might weaken the harnessing potential this evening if it gets any worse,” said Edwin.

“Let’s hope it does and the whole thing gets called off.”

*

At the factorium, late adjustments were being made to the hundred for the rest of the day with a flurry of last-minute paperwork. After an early tea, Prue, Edwin and Agapantha met in the memory lab. Edwin had sketched a map of the area and Prue added notes and arrows.

“When the stag-men march on the field towards the factorium and they are all within range, don’t wait. Transmit the signal no matter what. Is that clear?” said Prue.

Agapantha nodded.

“Everyone will be gathered in the atrium, so like we said before, you’ll have to take the fire escape, or you’ll be seen. Are you sure you’ll be all right, Ag?”

Agapantha nodded and went to the window. “I’ll just imagine I’m a lizard or something.” She giggled nervously.

“We should probably get going,” said Prue.

Dusk was upon them and the factorium lights glowed orange in the grey-blue of the descending evening. Agapantha walked with them to the forest edge and the three of them stood together for a moment, facing the wood. A break in the clouds to the south revealed a russet sliver of moon, peeping above the forest. Fine snowflakes began drifting like breath from the sky above.

“The blood moon,” said Prue. “It’s beautiful.”

“When this is all over, I’m going to paint this scene,” said Edwin.

Agapantha looked across at them both. “You’d better get going.”

They hugged quickly. Prue’s stomach twisted painfully and she swallowed hard. Then, without looking back, Prue and Edwin dashed into the trees.

As they made their way in the direction of the abandoned village, they barely spoke. They paused when they reached the crumbling buildings. Golden light flickered inside, casting ominous jagged shadows from the stag-men antlers on to the windows.

When they opened the door, Craftsman Primrose looked up. He was wearing his tweed suit and matching waistcoat, just like when Prue had first seen him on the farm.