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<That’s preposterous,> she scoffed. <How could I even know any such record was altered?>

<I figure my changing that record triggered a prearranged signal. It was a way for Antonov to contact you. So yes, I think you were the one responsible for that biotech accident, but after you covered it up, Antonov found out the truth and held you to ransom against the day he needed something from you. I also know there’s no way I would have been able to alter that record without revealing my identity, and that’s why you brought me into the investigation – not just because you were desperate to avoid being exposed, but so you could try and figure out how I fit into the scheme of things.>

<And what possible advantage could Antonov gain from all this?>

<Access to Vanaheim,> Luc replied, <through me, even after his physical death.>

<I should leave you there in that jungle to rot,> she hissed. <You have no real understanding of what took place on Thorne – it was an accident, but one that involved secret research carried out on behalf of an internal committee of the Eighty-Five. They made me take a bullet when they removed me from my post, not that it would have made a difference to Antonov. He thought I was little better than a butcher, same as you clearly do.>

<What I think about you doesn’t matter. And I don’t need to come to you to tell you what I know – Vasili found out the location of a secret data-cache belonging to Cheng, one containing the proof of Ariadna Placet’s death – and Cripps murdered him for his efforts. And he would never have found that cache without Antonov’s help.>

<You’re not seriously suggesting Vasili and Antonov were working together?>

<Why not? You were collaborating with Antonov, whether you liked it or not. But Vasili found much more than he’d anticipated in that data-cache, enough to exonerate you and get me out of Vanaheim alive if I can find it. Which brings me to my next question – I need you to tell me how to find Vasili’s island.>

Luc’s fingers reached out and touched the edge of the book he’d taken from Maxwell’s prison, still tucked inside his jacket. He’d save the revelations about the Founder Network for the moment.

<Vasili’s island? Why?>

<There’s something there I need to try and find.>

<Tell me what.>

<No, Zelia. I’m not sure if I trust you well enough to hand you all my cards.>

<Then that leaves us at an impasse,> she replied, <because as I think I already made clear, trust does not come easily to me.>

<Then think of this as a new and life-enhancing experience,> he responded, feeling his temper slip, <unless you really think you can dig your way out of this mess without my help.>

He waited a long time before her response came. So long, in fact, he was starting to think she had cut the connection.

<You’re only going to get yourself killed if you go anywhere near Vasili’s on your own, you understand that, don’t you?> she said, when she finally came back.

Luc let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. <I’ll take that chance.>

<His house mechants will have been set to guard against intrusion. You can’t fight them on your own.>

He waited in silence.

<Damn you, I . . .> She paused. <Fine, Gabion. You win. I’ll give you the coordinates to his island. But I want you to wait at least an hour before you leave for there.>

<What are you up to, Zelia?>

<I’m not trying to stop you, Luc. But I meant it when I said you can’t do this on your own. Just wait an hour before you leave for there – agreed?>

<One hour> he said, and cut the connection. Despite his misgivings, he knew she was almost certainly right.

Luc reached Vasili’s island a little under two hours later, having travelled more than a third of the way around Vanaheim’s circumference. The flier dipped back down through the cloud cover and dropped towards storm-tossed cliffs he had first set his eyes on just days before.

Words materialized in the air before him, floating against the dim light of the cockpit. UNAUTHORIZED APPROACH. PLEASE TURN BACK OR SEEK CLEARANCE.

Ignoring the warning, he guided the flier to a landing on a rocky beach by a cliff on one side of Vasili’s island before disembarking. He squinted into bright sunlight, then looked around until he saw the steps cut into the cliff that he’d spotted on the way down.

Just before Luc reached the top of the cliff, something dark passed overhead. Immediately he froze, afraid he might have triggered the house security systems.

The dark shape resolved into a large craft, nearly twenty metres in length. It came to a halt over the roof of one of the buildings comprising Vasili’s home, turning through one-third of its circumference before drifting a few metres to one side and settling down on a flat grassy area at the top of the cliff. The craft, he saw, had Zelia’s livery painted on its hull.

Luc pulled himself up the last of the steps and found himself standing at one end of a gentle, boulder-strewn slope, leading upwards from the cliff towards the nearest of the buildings. As he watched, the rear of Zelia’s ship slid open, and over a dozen of her walking dead experiments emerged unblinking into the sunlight, shambling down a ramp.

Luc’s skin crawled at the sight of so many of them. He found he could make out subtle differences between each of them, although they all followed the same basic pattern: most of their primary sense organs had been replaced; all had pin-studded structures where their eyes should have been; all wore loose, filthy clothing little better than rags. But they were also, Luc noted with a mixture of alarm and relief, heavily armed.

He turned towards Vasili’s home in time to see one of the house mechants come rocketing over a rooftop. Before he could so much as react, one of Zelia’s monsters had fired off a shot. The mechant wobbled in the air, then span hard as a second shot hit home.

Zelia was creating a diversion.

He ran upslope towards a narrow alleyway separating two buildings and ducked down it, emerging a moment later into a smaller version of the courtyard Zelia’s flier had brought him to on his first visit. He glanced behind himself to see Zelia’s creations were now following him down the alleyway.

Two more mechants hovered into view above the courtyard, their weapons swivelling in different directions. Luc saw an open door to his left and threw himself through it, into a gloomy, unlit hallway thick with dust, its walls damp and streaked with mould.

Explosive fire flared through the doorway behind him, and he made his way deeper into the building with considerable haste. He passed through room after room, each more desolate and ruined than the last, making it obvious that outside of the library and perhaps a few other rooms, Vasili had let most of the island’s buildings fall into a state of considerable disrepair.

Luc came to a dirt-streaked window and peered out. A narrow strip of beach to his left was partly obscured by wild-growing bushes, but almost directly below his vantage point was a walled garden in far better condition than anything else he had seen so far, and a set of patio doors that were immediately familiar. By the look of it, the drop to the ground was no more than a couple of metres.

He looked around, then jogged into the next room to the left, finding a chair lying on its side. Carrying it back through, he slammed it against the window. The glass fractured and bowed outwards, but it took several more attempts before it finally shattered.