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"The hardliners must have breached the lake," Greg said.

"So where did all the water go?" Rick asked. "We never saw any, and we were lower down than this."

"Used up," Julia said without hesitating.

"Are you in contact with that thing?" Greg asked.

"Not exactly, but there was some feedback when I squirted my memories over. I know what it can do, and I know how I'll use it. The water is only the start. It needs a lot of organic chemicals." She sighed. "I hope it leaves enough hydrocarbons to germinate the second chamber's biosphere."

The extent of the damage in the village cave surprised Greg. It must have been a brute of a fight. The crash team were splashing about through ankle-deep water. He counted seventeen armour suits laid out in a row. One of them was small, badly scored.

Suzi had been so young when they first met, barely a teenager, frightened and determined, emotionally scarred. One of the best Trinities he had ever trained, soaking up every word, bright and quick. She never had a childhood, not the kind his kids at Hambleton were getting. Instead he taught her how to kill, then threw her straight into the front line. She hadn't known anything else, her entire life moulded by a bunch of drunken Party militia, a random fling of the dice. If they had turned down another street, ransacked someone else's hotel, it would've been so different. Suzi was smart enough to have made it in any field. Never had the chance to try. That was what they'd fought for together, back in Peterborough, so that the next generation could live real lives again. And they'd been right, Julia and her achievements proved that.

He turned to Julia as she picked her way over dead fish, button nose wrinkled in dismay. She recoiled from the heat in his expression.

"Are you quite sure you and the alien dealt with Leol Reiger?" he asked.

She nodded hurriedly, eyes dark with emotion. He hadn't seen her that vulnerable-looking for seventeen years.

Greg's earpiece hissed with static, then Melvyn was talking in a breathless voice. "I was about to send out a scout party for you. I was worried the water might have trapped you."

Three of the suited figures were walking towards them. Julia fumbled round in her hood, and found the small mike. "Do you have a communication circuit with Victor?" she asked.

"Not a chance, our fibre optic went down in the combat." He paused. "Greg—"

"I know," Greg said.

"We're leaving now," Julia said. "Get your team together." She started for the staircase.

"But there's still five tekmercs unaccounted for," Melvyn protested.

"Are all your people here?"

"I detailed four to take our wounded out, but the rest are here, yes."

"Then get them out."

"Yes, ma'am. What about the tekmercs?"

"Leave them to the alien, they won't escape."

"You found it?" Melvyn asked. Greg heard a thousand questions in his voice.

"Yes," Julia said.

"Lordy, me boy, you should have seen the beastie," Sinclair said. "A kilometre long, it was, black as hell."

"Where's Royan?" Melvyn asked.

Julia's step faltered. "Gone."

Fragments of data traffic bounced down the service tunnel as Greg led them out into Moorgate station, his earpiece picking up snatches of shouting voices. Half of New London's security staff were waiting for them. He could see paramedics easing the crash team casualties into a hospital coach, the four armour-suited members standing close by.

Victor came at a dead run as they emerged from the service tunnel. He stopped short half a metre from Julia, looking her up and down. "You're all right," he said, he sounded scared.

Julia smiled. "Yes, Victor, I'm all right."

Victor cleared his throat, and glanced back down the service tunnel. "What about Royan, did you find him?"

"Yeah," Greg said. "But he's not coming back, not with us." He sat down on one of the big pipes next to a turbopump casing. Now the tension and adrenalin drive were abating, the exertions of the last two days were making themselves felt. The immediacy was lost; always the same after combat, and that's what this had been, even without the physical side. His neurohormone hangover was nagging, cutting him off from the emotional by-play of the security staff, Victor and Julia, Rick; Sinclair's doolally inspirations. And he didn't care. He wanted out of his dissipater suit, then a bath, a drink, and a call to Eleanor. Maybe the other way round.

"And the alien?" Victor asked.

"It's agreed to leave," Julia said. "Have you got your cybofax on you?"

Victor handed it over.

"Get all these people out of here," Julia said as she entered a code into the wafer. "And clear all the other northern endcap stations as well."

"Why, what's happening?"

Her eyes glinted challengingly. "There's going to be a slight adjustment to New London."

Victor appealed to Greg.

"Don't look at me, she made the deal."

"What, with the alien?"

"Yeah."

Victor glanced back at Julia. Like a teenager hit with first-love blues, Greg thought.

Sean Francis's face appeared on the cybofax screen. "Ma'am. You're all right, yes?"

Julia sucked in her cheeks. "Yes, so it seems. Sean, order a complete evacuation of all personnel in the second chamber, miners, technicians, supervisors. Absolutely everyone, they are to use the emergency capsules. I want them out fast."

Sean looked shocked. "What's happening?"

"The alien will be entering the second chamber soon. And while I think of it, make sure the orb foundry plant crew evacuate as well. Then clear every spacecraft within a five-hundred-kilometre radius of New London, and that includes all the cargo tugs and personnel commuters. Everything, understood?"

"My God, if it's that dangerous shouldn't I order a full-scale evacuation?"

"It's not dangerous," Julia said quickly. "Just very, very big."

"Big," Sean mouthed silently. "All right, I'll initiate the procedures now."

"Thank you, Sean," Julia said. "And have Maria power up my Falcon. We'll be at the southern hub docking complex in five minutes."

"You're leaving?" Sean asked. It wasn't quite an accusation.

"Certainly not. I'm reserving a grandstand seat; after what we've been through we've earned it."

"Yes, ma'am."

Julia sat beside Greg, and slipped her arm through his. She was effervescent. It was a lovely sight, he thought, like watching time in retreat, her face smoothing out.

"How about you boys?" Julia glanced up at Rick and Victor, tip of her tongue caught between her lips. "You coming?"

Victor and Rick exchanged a nervous glance, not quite sure how to react to this teasing, girlish Julia.

Greg chuckled at them, and allowed her to haul him to his feet. Muscles creaked in protest, but she was right, he couldn't miss it. At least somebody had got what they wanted out of all this.

Space was full of bright orange sparks, a wide cyclonic circle spinning out of New London's northern hub like some giant Catherine wheel display. The Falcon glided smoothly towards them, maintaining a steady two-kilometre separation distance from the bulk of the asteroid.

"Just how many people have you got building the second chamber?" Rick asked. He was floating parallel to the cabin roof, gawping out at the pyrotechnic armada of emergency escape capsules.

Julia clucked her tongue, concentrating on the data the processor nodes were feeding her. "About three and a half thousand all told. The capsules can hold up to eight people. They've launched most of them."

Maria snorted. "A thousand vomit comets, the mind boggles."

Greg tightened his grip on the back of her chair. Maria had been grumpy since they left New London's southern hub docking crater. He got the impression she didn't like being crowded out like this. The four of them hanging on behind her, peering out through the slim, graphic-laden windscreen.