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What would he tell them? Would he implicate Curtis? Not that it mattered. Nothing that anyone in that room could say would matter, before long.

All those lights, he thought, looking out at Hong Kong Island as it receded in the night, all those lights will soon switch off. Forever. I won’t see it, he thought, but I’ll hear it, the beginning of it. In just... twenty-seven minutes.

13

The shooting seemed to be over. Manville followed Tony Fairchild down the steep gradient of the access road, Kim beside him. Fairchild walked beside the new inspector, the overweight man who’d been rushed in to take Inspector Ha’s place, whose name Manville hadn’t caught. Fairchild was trying to establish some rapport with this new man, but Manville didn’t think he was getting very far.

Well, the new man had a lot on his plate. Some sort of insurrection in the center of the city, and apparently a nearby theft of a lot of gold. Also, vandalism in the water tunnels. And he was coming to it all from a standing start.

As they walked down the slope, Manville saw a small sullen cluster of prisoners off to the left, two bodies on the ground nearby awaiting transportation, and uniformed policemen everywhere. More lights were being brought in, the blue plastic sheathing was being stripped from the shell of the building-that-wasn’t, and the construction vehicles were being moved out of the way.

Unfortunately, Luther had been taken off to the hospital because of a graze wound on the side of his head before Manville could ask him about circumstances inside here. Where was Bennett, that was the question. The tunnels had been flooded, they knew that much. Was the soliton set?

As they neared the bottom of the slope, Manville called to Fairchild, “Do they have Bennett? Do they know where he is?”

Fairchild paused for Manville to catch up, as the new inspector strode on. “They have someone in the site office,” he said, “and a diver. We’ll go see.”

As they started across the cleared excavation toward the trailer containing the office, Manville said, “We don’t know how much time Curtis has given us.”

“Bennett may know,” Fairchild said. “I gather they may have used a submarine to take the loot away. If it’s in the harbor now, Curtis won’t want to do anything that might sink it.”

“If it’s in the harbor now, it’s leaving the harbor fast,” Manville said.

The site office was crammed with people. Bennett and a short olive-skinned man in a wetsuit sat on a bench to one side. A dozen policemen milled around the room, searching drawers, testing walkie-talkies, getting in each other’s way.

Manville crossed to Bennett.

“You,” Bennett said.

Manville unconsciously raised two fingers to the scar on his cheek. “Did you set the explosives?”

Bennett gave him a dull look, and a policeman angrily snapped at Manville in Cantonese to get away from the prisoners. Ignoring him, Manville said, “Bennett! Do you want to die?”

The policeman tugged at Manville’s arm, and the new inspector called, “Inspector Fairchild! Get that man away from the prisoner!”

“Inspector,” Fairchild said, “we have to stop the next round of explosions.”

“We’re in control here now,” the new inspector said. “There will be no more explosions.”

Manville said, “You don’t understand—”

The new inspector said, “Inspector Fairchild, you cannot bring these civilians in here. I must demand they return to the street, to the other side of the barricade.”

Manville said to Fairchild, “He doesn’t know about it. Inspector Ha was trying to avoid panic, remember? He told as few people as possible what was happening here. This man hasn’t the first idea what’s going on.”

“Inspector Fairchild,” the new inspector announced, “I don’t know what lenience my predecessor demonstrated for you, but I must insist on my orders being carried out. If you don’t have these people removed, my men will remove them.”

“We need them here,” Fairchild began, and Manville turned back to Bennett: “Did you or did you not set the explosives?”

Again the Chinese policeman yanked at Manville’s arm, yelling at him, but this time, with sudden ferocity. Fairchild spun on him, towering, red-faced, and roared, “Let the man ask his questions!”

The policeman, stunned, looked to his inspector for guidance. Tony turned his glower on the new inspector. A long silent moment went by, when no one spoke or moved.

They just got out from under the British thumb, Manville thought. They aren’t going to like being yelled at by this big overbearing Australian.

But then the new inspector’s professionalism broke through, and he snapped something at his policeman, who nodded, though grudgingly, and backed off. The new inspector made an imperious come-closer gesture at Fairchild and said, “Come here, sir, and explain yourself.”

“I will, Inspector.”

While Tony did, Manville turned back to Bennett. “If you didn’t set the charges yet,” he said, “for God’s sake, tell me so. If you did, let’s undo it before we’re all killed.”

“We’ll be all right,” Bennett muttered, not looking at him.

“We’ll be all right?”

“Maybe get a block or two away.”

“Man, don’t you know what Curtis has set up?”

“It’s a robbery,” Bennett said. “I expect I’ll do time.”

“It’s a massacre! Bennett, have you heard about the soliton?”

Before Bennett could answer, a ragged creature crashed into the office, crying, “Help me! Help me! I’m an American! Help me!”

Everybody stared at the man in bewilderment. He wore tattered grubby shorts and the remnants of shoes. He was unshaven, filthy, hair matted, wounds and scars all over his body. “My name,” he moaned, “is Hennessy.”

Kim, in awe, whispered, “Mark?”

“Kim!” Mark lurched toward her across the office. He dropped to his knees in front of her, staring up at her. “Don’t let them,” he begged. “Kim, don’t let them.”

“Mark.” She went to her knees beside him, starting to touch him but then clearly afraid that any touch would only increase his pain.

“Mark Hennessy,” Manville said. And then, turning to Bennett: “You recognize this man? You know he worked for Curtis?” Manville leaned down toward the quivering man. “You have to tell Bennett about the soliton.”

Mark shook his head, confused. “But you... you know what it is. You built it.”

“But if he hears it from you, he’ll know I’m not making it up, trying to fool him. Tell him, Mark. What is the soliton?”

“You used it at the island, Kanowit Island.”

“Tell him what it does.”

“Turns land — landfill — turns it into mud.”

“How?”

“Water in tunnels, explosives in water.”

Wheeling on Bennett, Manville said, “He told you it would just remove the evidence, didn’t he? But you’re the evidence, Bennett, we’re all the evidence. There’ll be probably six explosive devices, am I right?”

Bennett frowned at him. “Well, what do they do, then?”

“Every part of this island that has been added to,” Manville told him, “will be gone. And the buildings on it, all of them. And us.”

“He told me—”

“You believed him? You believed he’d let you live, to hold this over his head?”

Bennett shook his heavy head, back and forth, back and forth.