Final Days

TWENTY-ONE

Sophia, Newton Colony, 5 February 2235

Saul found his way back to consciousness by small, faltering degrees, at first only dimly aware of a slight greying in the darkness that pressed up close against his face. The floor on which he lay was hard and unyielding and, as he tried to move, he quickly found his hands were securely tied behind his back. The thick cloth of the hood covering his head felt uncomfortably tight, and his chin itched abominably against the rough fabric.

He twisted, wriggling like an eel, until he was lying on his belly rather than his side.

He soon realized, to his considerable relief, that his legs were not similarly bound, so he could stand and even walk. With his tongue he traced the rim of a tiny hole cut into the hood, to prevent him from suffocating. It wasn’t nearly large enoug.

With a bit of work he shifted himself into a kneeling position. He noticed how the light brightened or dimmed depending on which way he turned his head, which suggested the presence of either a window or a light. He became increasingly aware of background noises, which resolved into the rumble of machinery, and the sound of voices coming from a considerable distance.

He shouted for attention, his dry throat feeling as sore as if he had swallowed a razor. He suddenly felt an urgent need to urinate. Somehow, not being able to see began pushing him close to the edge of outright panic.

He swallowed with some difficulty before making a second attempt at shouting for help. What came out sounded more like the cry of a trapped or wounded animal than anything that belonged in a human throat. He yelled yet again, even though he had already concluded no help would be forthcoming.

Saul froze as he heard the sound of a door opening, then closing again, followed by the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. He gasped with shock as a pair of hands grabbed him roughly and dragged him to his feet. He kicked out instinctively, and felt something hard slam against the back of his head with sufficient force for his knees to buckle.

Once more, the same hands hauled him upright, and this time he didn’t resist. As he was dragged away, the glimmer of light first faded and then intensified, and he was aware, from the echo of his own footsteps, that he was being taken from one room to another. Several doors opened and closed before he was finally shoved against a wall.

A moment later he heard the familiar click of a weapon’s safety catch being released, followed by the chill sensation of a gun barrel being pressed up against one side of his head.

‘Please,’ he managed to mumble, ‘you don’t need to do this. Just tell me what you want.’

No reply was forthcoming, as a second pair of hands loosened his belt buckle, before yanking his trousers down around his knees. Despite the gun pressed to his temple, Saul tried desperately to twist loose, as sheer panic finally overcame him.

Something hard slammed into his head a second time. A fit of nausea gripped him and he fought the urge to vomit. The two pairs of hands kept him upright, however, then lowered him on to a seat.

Saul became dimly aware of now being seated on a toilet.

‘If you need to take a shit,’ a heavily accented voice murmured very close to his ear, ‘now would be a good time.’

There was something familiar about that voice.

Saul merely nodded, too frightened to say anything more, the air within the bag close and hot, and filled with the smell of his own fear. Groaning with relief, he started to piss.

The two sets of hands held him secure by either shoulder, but the only sound he could hear apart from their breathingwas that of his own urine splashing into the pan.

‘Finished?’ asked the same voice, eventually, and Saul finally recognized it.

Narendra, the information broker. The man who’d told him Lee Hsingyun was legitimate, just before the fiasco on the ice-pharm.

Saul grunted his assent, and he was quickly pulled back upright. As hands refastened his trousers, he felt a trickle of warm urine run down the inside of his thigh.

A door banged open again, and he was led, stumbling, through yet more twists and turns, until a final shove sent him back on to his knees. He heard Narendra begin speaking in Turkish and, when a live translation failed to appear, he realized to his horror that his contacts had been taken from him. And if they had removed his contacts, they had also taken Jeff’s encrypted files . . .

A second voice replied, this one deeper and more guttural, its tone angry and dismissive. Saul listened carefully as the two men argued. Finally one pair of footsteps headed towards the door, while a shadowy form kneeled beside him, pressing something against Saul’s lips, until it forced him to tip his head back.

Water.

Saul gulped it down, realizing he must have become dangerously dehydrated. Some of it spilled down his neck as he swallowed it greedily, tipping his head ever farther back. Then his unseen benefactor stood up and departed, locking the door securely once more.

Saul slumped back, trying to breathe more evenly, and began to gather up some of his scattered wits. He could still hear the occasional call of distant voices above the rumble of machinery, and came to the conclusion he must be somewhere close by a building site.

Once he felt calmer, he carefully shuffled backwards, on his knees, until he felt the soles of his feet come into contact with a wall. He once again tried to rid himself from whatever was binding his wrists together, but his bonds simply grew tighter the more he struggled. So, in the end, he gave up.

Clumsily staggering upright, he then slid along the wall until he reached a corner of his makeshift cell.

He could feel a faint breeze there, which surely meant an open window. He next slid along the second wall, until he encountered the edge of the windowsill with his fingertips. Cool air ruffled his hair and made him wonder how high up above the ground he was.

Saul continued on his way, shuffling past the window and skirting around the next corner, until he felt a door handle brush against his fingers. He twisted himself around, bending his knees slightly until he could get a grip on it. The handle clicked slightly as he tugged at it, but the door was firmly locked. As he’d expected, really, but there was no reason not to try.

The door suddenly slammed open so that Saul lost his balance, toppling forward to hit the floor hard. He twisted around until he was lying on his back, then felt the air explode out of his lungs as someone drove 0">

Saul woke to blinding light as the bag was ripped from over his head. He sneezed and blinked, before gazing around at four bare plaster walls. To his right, he saw an open door and a half-open window beyond a floor of bare concrete. Plastic crates were stacked in a corner, each stamped with the name of a biotech pharm, probably agricultural supplies or seed stock.

Narendra stood by the window, the cloth bag still clutched in one hand. To one side of him stood a barrel-chested man with a shaven head, gripping a shotgun in both hands. His gaze was dark and entirely lacking in mercy.

‘I guessed it was you,’ Saul rasped at Narendra. ‘My contacts. What did you do with them?’

‘They’re somewhere safe.’ Narendra scratched at his goatee before stepping forward to kneel at Saul’s side. ‘I’m going to untie you now,’ he explained, ‘but please don’t try anything foolish. Eren here would be delighted to have an excuse to kill you.’

Saul felt his wrists fall loose, and he slowly moved his hands around in front of him. All the while, the barrel-chested man, Eren, watched him with the keen interest of a bird of prey dropping towards a field mouse. Predictably, his wrists were bruised and purple, and on flexing his shoulders, he heard their joints creak in protest.

A third man entered, carrying a tray laden with coffee and what smelled like kofte ekmek, rich with spices and onions and wrapped in brightly coloured paper. The man handed the tray to Narendra, then departed without a word. Saul heard his own stomach rumble.

‘You can get put away for a long time for kidnapping an ASI agent,’ said Saul, trying to ignore the pervasive aroma of the food. ‘Just how long have you been keeping me here?’

Narendra assumed a slightly apologetic expression, as if this were nothing more than a terrible misunderstanding. ‘Two days,’ he explained, placing the tray on the floor next to Saul. ‘Eat first, then we can talk.’

Saul laughed weakly. ‘What, now you’re trying to soften me up before you get to work on me with a pair of pliers? I don’t have anything to say to you, or to anyone else.’

‘All we want to know is why you’re here.’ Narendra’s gaze flicked towards Eren, then back again. ‘I’m sorry about your treatment. If it’s any help, it wasn’t my decision.’

‘I haven’t done anything that warrants kidnapping me off the street, believe me,’ Saul insisted angrily.

Eren barked some comment at Narendra, then headed over to the door. Narendra followed him abruptly, then paused with one hand on the handle. ‘As a gesture of goodwill, we won’t put the cuffs back on for the moment,’ he said. ‘But please think hard eat whatever you may want to tell me when I return, or else things may turn out very bad for both of us.’

‘It would help if I had the slightest idea what the hell you want from me,’ Saul yelled after him.

Narendra quickly locked the door behind him, leaving Saul finally alone with the food. He ate ravenously, his eyes watering from the rich spices flavouring the meatballs.

Once he had finished, Saul made his way over to the window and discovered that he was perhaps thirty storeys above ground level. So far as he could tell, he was confined in one of several residential towers strung along the sloping side of the valley. He could see construction teams, like tiny, multicoloured ants, clambering around the tower that was its nearest neighbour. It stood perhaps a kilometre away, its upper floors presently a tangle of girders. He even thought about shouting for help, but the chances of anyone hearing him were extraordinarily slim.

He stepped back to the door and pressed his ear against it, listening hard. After a moment he was rewarded by the sound of a throat clearing.

Saul passed most of the rest of the morning watching cargo drones drift above the city canopy, obviously on their way to and from other settlements. Without his contacts, he felt desperately isolated, as if he was stranded naked in a jungle with no idea how to get home.

Narendra returned in the early afternoon, again accompanied by Eren. He placed a wooden chair in the centre of the room, while Eren gestured with the barrel of his shotgun, and barked several unintelligible commands indicating that Saul should kneel. Once he had complied, Narendra stepped quickly behind him, binding his wrists once more.

Narendra took a seat on the chair, facing Saul, while Eren moved to stand directly behind him.

Narendra rubbed his palms against his thighs. ‘I must ask you again,’ his eyes fitted up towards Eren, with more than a touch of nervousness, ‘why you came here.’

‘None of your damn business,’ replied Saul.

Narendra merely nodded, and took out a small pouch. He began to roll himself a cigarette, carefully balancing the paper on one knee as he added a pinch of tobacco. ‘I did say earlier that it would be better for both of us,’ he remarked, without looking up from his task, ‘if you answered.’

There was a faint tremor in Narendra’s voice, and Saul noticed the broker’s hands were shaking very gently. It wasn’t difficult to guess that he was deadly afraid of Eren. He’s out of his depth, Saul realized.

‘Does Eren here know just what you do for a living?’ Saul asked suddenly. He could hear the slow in-and-out of Eren’s breath, and could picture the shotgun muzzle hovering just centimetres from the back of his skull.

‘Yes,’ Narendra replied, still focused on his work. ‘He is very much aware of it. We are . . . siness associates, you might say.’

Saul nodded, as if in understanding. ‘So all that information you gave me about Shih Hsiu-Chuan, last time I was here . . . that was all a set-up, am I right?’

Narendra’s eyes flicked up to meet his, then lowered. ‘Yes. When did you realize?’

Saul shrugged. ‘Lee Hsingyun turning up when he did was just too convenient, and he obviously knew a lot more about us than we did about him. Outside of the ASI, you’re the only one who knows we had an interest in Hsiu-Chuan.’

‘You’re not the only person I trade with, Saul. It goes both ways.’

‘Yes,’ Saul nodded, ‘but in return for the information you give us, we allow you to continue trading, just as long as you don’t cross us. In all the years we dealt with you, this is the first time you’ve done that, so why now? What’s at stake that suddenly everything’s different?’

‘You sound,’ said Narendra, ‘like you already have an idea why.’

‘I always realized all that stuff you liked to spout about staying “neutral” was just bullshit, but I could never figure out just where your true loyalties lay. Now I think I do. Your friend Eren’s with one of the separatist groups, right?’

Narendra said nothing, lit his cigarette and took a draw, the smoke drifting up pungently.

‘Not Fan Pan Zhe,’ Saul continued, ‘so I figure it’s Al Hurr. They’re pretty much running Sophia these days.’

Eren muttered something from just behind him, and Narendra nodded in response.

‘I asked you a question.’ Narendra fixed his gaze on Saul. ‘You still haven’t answered it.’

Eren pressed the shotgun muzzle up against the back of Saul’s neck, forcing his head forward. He then shouted something close to Saul’s ear, and Saul closed his eyes, trying not to think about the damage a shotgun cartridge could do at such close range.

‘Wait!’ he cried out. ‘All right, I’m trying to find a man called Farad Maalouf. I believe he has family here.’

Narendra nodded, over his head, at Eren, who withdrew the shotgun. Saul straightened slowly, his heart hammering in his chest.

‘So why are you trying to find him?’

‘A friend of mine disappeared. I’ve reason to think Maalouf might be able to help me find him.’

‘And this friend’s name?’

Saul glared at Narendra. ‘Now, that really isn’t any of your fucking business.’

Narendra gestured to Eren, who rammed Saul in the small of the back hard enough to send him sprawling face-down across the rough-textured concrete. A moment later, Eren straddled him, taking a grip on Saul’s bound wrists and twisting his arms up and over his head.

Saul screamed from the sheer pain: it felt as if his arms were being ripped out of their sockets. An eternity seemed to pass before Eren finally let go.

‘Jeff Cairns,’ Saul gasped, from where he lay helpless. ‘I thought Farad could help me find a man called Jeff Cairns.’

‘We know who he is,’ said Narendra. ‘He and Farad once worked together. What do you know about their work?’

‘Nothing.’ Saul shook his head vigorously, so his cheek rasped against the concrete. ‘Something off-world, that’s all I know. Might be mineral assessment or something else, I have no fucking idea.’

‘But you’ve been assigned to find both him and Maalouf?’

‘No.’ Saul twisted his head around so he could finally look up at Narendra. ‘I wasn’t assigned by anyone. I’m here for personal reasons, that’s it.’

‘You’ll need to give me more than that.’

The last thing Saul wanted to do was tell Narendra about Olivia. ‘All I know is that Jeff’s in some kind of trouble. That’s the sum total of my knowledge.’

Narendra addressed Eren in rapid-fire Turkish. When he looked down at Saul again, his expression was tight-lipped. ‘No,’ he replied. ‘There’s some other reason you’re here.’

Eren dragged Saul over to the window, fumbling one-handed with the latch and pushing it wide open. Saul tasted air damp from the condensation that gathered under the city canopy, as Eren pushed him up against the frame. He struggled, but Eren seemed to expend little effort in pushing Saul head-first out through the window, a firm grip on his collar the only thing keeping Saul from tumbling to his death. He felt his bowels turn to water as he stared at the void separating him from the ground.

‘Eren,’ said Narendra, coming to stand by the window, ‘thinks we should let you drop, if you have nothing useful to tell us.’

Saul stumbled over his own words in panic, his heart beating so hard it felt like a terrified animal trapped in his chest. ‘All I know is Jeff was on to something that the ASI’s been trying to cover up, that’s it, I swear I have no idea what it is, but they’re killing anyone who was involved in any way.’

‘And this is the truth?’ demanded Narendra.

‘Goddammit, yes.’

‘Are you aware,’ asked Narendra, ‘that you were followed as soon as you arrived in Sophia?’

‘By your people, yes.’

Narendra uttered a brief word to Eren, and Saul found himself suddenly pulled back from the window. He collapsed in a heap on the floor, his heart still thundering, and watched Narendra discard the burned-out stub of his cigarette and grind it under his boot. Saul sensed a shift in the atmosphere. Perhaps, he hoped, they were starting to believe him.

‘Not our people,’ Narendra replied. ‘Not Al Hurr or any of the other groups.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Nor do I. Three men tracked you all the way across town from the Array, all of them ASI agents. At first we assumed they were working in conjunction with you, but then it became clear they were following you without your knowledge.’

‘You’re saying my own people were following me?’

Narendra nodded. ‘There’s been a steady influx of government operatives through the Array, over the past couple of weeks. We assumed it was the beginning of another clampdown, particularly when people living here began to disappear or turn up dead. But the military forces pouring in through the Array over the past few days are far greater in number than at any point in the past. Not only that, the news from Earth is full of . . . things, indescribable monstrosities growing like weeds. Do you know what they are?’

Military forces? ‘No,’ said Saul, ‘I don’t. And I’m not sure anyone does.’

Narendra stared at Saul for what seemed like a long time, then spoke again to his colleague. Eren’s reply was angry, but something in the defiant way Narendra replied suggested that he was standing his ground over some issue.

‘I’m going to tell you something you don’t know,’ continued Narendra, turning back to Saul. ‘And I want you to know the only reason I’m sharing it with you is because it’s clear something very extraordinary is taking place – both here and back on Earth. Farad Maalouf was my brother.’

Saul gaped at him. He recalled the pictures he’d seen of Maalouf and, studying Narendra’s face, saw what might be a family resemblance in the eyes and the shape of his jaw.

‘You just said he was your brother?’

‘My half-brother, to be precise,’ Narendra continued, quivering with barely suppressed rage. ‘He was gunned down like a dog, just a few streets from here.’

‘And you think I had something to do with it? I only just got here!’

‘You are an ASI agent, so it would be foolish of me to take you at your word. We are on different sides of a war.’

Saul groaned. ‘What the hell are you talking about? What war?’

Narendra stared at him in disbelief. ‘You help to maintain an unjust system, and we oppose it. We should be able to build our own wormhole networks, to find our own star systems to colonize, as and when we please, instead of having to route all our traffic through Copernicus. And now you are sending in your military to crush us without mercy.’ He gestured at Eren. ‘He is here in order to carry out your execution. The only reason you’re still alive is because I spoke on your behalf.’

Something clicked inside Saul’s head. ‘That’s because you already believed me, isn’t it? You know I had nothing to do with your brother’s death.’

Narendra’s nostrils flared. ‘I believe there are reasonable grounds for doubt. But believing you carries a price, because it means placing my trust in you. If that proves to be a mistake on my part, Eren will kill me as soon as he has finished disposing of you.’

‘Then, if you don’t think I killed Farad, what is it you need from me?’

‘I want you to tell me just how you came into possession of the encrypted database we found stored in your contacts.’

Saul’s shoulders sagged in defeat. ‘I found it when I went looking for Jeff Cairns back on Earth. I figured I might be able to dig up some clue as to where he’d gone, but there was no way to break the encryption on the files.’

‘And Jeff Cairns worked with my brother, an expert in such matters. This is another reason you are still alive,’ Narendra explained. ‘If your intention was to kill him, it makes no sense that you would bring with you the very same information he died helping to steal.’

‘And . . . you’ve cracked the files?’

‘We did, yes.’ Narendra nodded. ‘But what we discovered is . . . troubling.’

Narendra said something to Eren – and Saul gasped as a bag was once more pulled over his head.

‘I would rather you didn’t see just where we’re going,’ he heard Narendra say, as Eren lifted Saul back up on to his feet. ‘But it’s not far.’

Saul stumbled along blindly, one man pushing him from behind while the other led him with a firm grip on his upper arm. When they next came to a stop, Saul felt the floor suddenly lurch beneath him, and guessed they had boarded an elevator. As they emerged once more, he felt a breeze blowing through the narrow slit just above his mouth.

‘We’re going to put you in the boot of a car,’ he heard Narendra say. ‘Do not struggle.’

Two pairs of hands bundled him into a cramped space, then he heard the car’s boot lock click into place just an inch above his head. A moment later he felt the vehicle accelerate.

No more than ten minutes passed before the car came to an abrupt halt, and soon the boot clicked open once more. Hands reached in and pulled him out, and once more he was led through a series of twists and turns. When they finally tore the bag from his head, Saul blinked under flickering strip lights that illuminated a narrow corridor with peeling, whitewashed walls, and a stairwell at the far end.

They led him to a door, on which Narendra continued rapping until it swung open, revealing a surly-looking man in his early twenties. He wore faded work clothes and held an Agnessa submachine gun close to his chest. He nodded to Narendra and Eren, but spared Saul only a brief, contemptuous glare, before leading the three of them into what appeared to be someone’s living room. A TriView sat in one corner, while a couch and armchair were positioned on a thick, patterned carpet. The room smelled of a mixture of mint and cigarettes.

‘Where are we?’ Saul asked.

‘This was Farad’s apartment,’ said Narendra. He gestured to Eren, who merely nodded and collapsed into the armchair, placing the shotgun across his knees.

Narendra beckoned to Saul to follow him into what had clearly been Maalouf’s office, where a second TriView was mounted on the wall. Narendra left the door open, and Saul, glancing back towards the living room, saw that Eren could easily keep an eye on them from where he was sitting.

Narendra activated the TriView. ‘The database contains many video sequences we are still struggling to comprehend,’ he explained as he turned back towards Saul. ‘We want to know what they mean.’

‘You’re buried in shit right up to your neck, I think,’ Saul muttered under his breath.

‘I am a businessman, not a revolutionary,’ Narendra responded sotto voce, with a nervous glance towards the living room. ‘For all that I would like to see the men responsible for killing Farad pay, I would now prefer to be almost anywhere but here.’ He nodded towards the TriView. ‘Please, pay attention.’

Saul found himself watching several figures in bulky spacesuits making their way across what appeared to be a bridge that was illuminated by rows of lights. Tinny-sounding voices crackled with static, and a notice flashed up, warning them this recording was classified. To Saul, it all looked very flat and artificial, without the aid of his contacts.

The footage was raw and clearly unedited, and appeared to have been recorded through some kind of suit-mounted camera rather than through anyone’s contacts. The view shifted suddenly, as whoever was recording these images glanced up. Saul noticed that the bridge led into a passageway entrance in the side of a building of monumental proportions. An angled wall rose up and up above brbefore disappearing into a sky so black and empty that something about it sent a chill all the way through him.

The suited figures began talking amongst each other about low-pressure zones and high-gravity areas, and of Founders and artefacts. At one point, Farad Maalouf’s face, pale and nervous-looking, became visible through the smeared glass of a suit helmet.

The scene changed abruptly to what appeared to be the deck of a cruise liner, or a ferry, moving through heavy weather, with dark grey clouds scudding low over a stormy sea. Something huge grew out of the water directly ahead, almost incomprehensibly large – obviously one of the alien growths currently dominating the headlines. Enormous leaves were intermittently visible through the cloud cover.

The view then blurred as whoever was making the recording – through contacts, this time – made a sudden movement. There was a brief glimpse of a woman’s face and then the scene changed again, as abruptly as before, now showing Copernicus City as it would appear from further along the crater wall.

Something was wrong, however. The entire city was in ruins, as if it had undergone some cataclysmic aerial bombardment. The view slowly panned around to reveal that the upper levels of the city’s tallest buildings had been sheared off, and their debris scattered for tens of kilometres all around.

Another change of scene, and this time Saul found himself looking at what appeared to be satellite footage taken from low-Earth orbit. He saw the surface of the Earth was now dotted with the same flower-like growths, but in far, far greater numbers than they existed currently.

That settled it, then: this footage was obviously faked. Any reasonably skilled graphic artist could generate images like this, impossible to distinguish from reality. But what gave Saul pause to wonder – even to doubt his own sense of disbelief – was the look of utter dread he saw on Narendra’s face, as he glanced towards him.

‘Farad caused us much consternation,’ said Narendra. ‘He was given the opportunity to infiltrate a highly secretive research project backed by the ASI. At first we rejoiced, because we now had one of our own deep in the enemy’s territory, reporting back to us. It was clear that one of the greatest discoveries ever made in the history of mankind was deliberately being kept hidden from us all. But, within a short period of time, Farad became . . . recalcitrant.’

‘What do you mean, “recalcitrant”?’

‘At first, he refused to report back on anything he had seen and learned, so he was accused of becoming a turncoat. I tried to speak to him, because I was worried for his life, and finally he admitted to me that he was terrified of telling us what he knew in case we thought he was insane. He swore he was working on assembling the proof we would need in order to believe him.’ Narendra shrugged. ‘We had no choice but to go along with that explanation.’

Saul pointed to the TriView display. ‘And this is the proof he was bringing back?’

‘Presumably,’ said Narendra. ‘Although I would rather it was not the case. Please,’ he gestured to the display, ‘there’s more.’

Saul turned back to the TriView and reeled in shock. The view had shifted back to the figures in pressure suits, except that this time some of them had cracked their helmets open, and were engaged in lifting a naked Mitchell Stone on to a makeshift stretcher. His skin was tinged blue and, as Saul watched, an oxygen mask was placed over his mouth. After that, he was carried down a long corridor with a high, vaulted ceiling, the walls decorated with carefully carved glyphs and shapes so utterly inhuman that they verged on the obscene. Another sudden jump-cut, and Saul watched as Mitchell was lifted out of some kind of cabinet in a sterile-looking room filled with pipes and monitors.

‘I can’t make sense of any of this,’ said Saul. ‘What is it supposed to be?’

Narendra regarded him with sad eyes. ‘You cannot explain it?’

‘It can’t be real.’ But how, then, to explain that image of Farad Maalouf peering out of his helmet, surrounded by that impossible landscape?

‘That is Eren’s assumption,’ said Narendra. ‘He thinks Farad somehow invented all of this. But this does not explain why someone in the ASI wanted him dead, nor, presumably, why they wanted Jeff Cairns dead as well.’

Saul shook his head and turned back to the TriView, thinking he couldn’t possibly experience any greater shocks than he had already received. But what came next was like the final coup de grâce in a particularly one-sided boxing match.

He again found himself looking at what he had at first assumed to be a bridge, but which now appeared to be a parapet connecting the monumental structure he had seen earlier to other, identical edifices. Something about them made him think of a cemetery – or, perhaps, a mausoleum. The video had been filmed from the point of view of someone pushing a heavy steel box, mounted on balloon-type wheels, with serial numbers stamped along its side.

Saul recognized it immediately as the hijacked shipment Hanover’s squad had been sent to track down.

The suited figure trundling the box came to a halt, whereupon a second figure, which had been walking just ahead, stopped and turned to look back. Saul recognized Jeff’s face looking out through the visor, an expression of worried concern on his face as he spoke. This time, however, there was no sound, suggesting he must be communicating over a private link.

‘I have studied these video fragments very carefully,’ explained Narendra. ‘Particularly the ones that were most recently uploaded into the database. There are ways to determine if those images are real or not – certain signs of artifice that cannot be avoided. Yet I have found no such evidence.’

‘You can’t be serious,’ Saul replied stubbornly. ‘You’re trying to tell me this is all real?’

‘You’ve seen those same things on the news feeds. There are hundreds of hours of these recordings, much of it showing what appears to be a ruined and lifeless Earth – lifeless, that is, apart from the growths. Eren may be happy to deny the evidence of his eyes, but I cannot. These are things that have not happened yet – but obviously will.’

Something occurred to Saul. ‘You said Farad died somewhere near here. Did you recover his contacts?’

‘Yes.’ Narendra nodded warily. ‘Why? Because you think they might have recorded the face of his killer?’

Assassination had become a much harder business once UP-enabled contacts had become a mainstream form of communication, since they were capable of recording their wearer’s last moments. ‘That crossed my mind, yes,’ said Saul. ‘If the ASI were really behind the hit, they’d have made recovering the victim’s contacts a priority.’

‘You’re assuming Farad’s killer came face to face with him,’ Narendra pointed out. ‘Or that the killer hadn’t disguised himself in some way.’

‘That’s why Eren thinks I’m here, isn’t it?’ Saul muttered. ‘He thinks I was sent to recover the files Farad stole.’

Narendra’s expression told him he’d guessed right. ‘We guarded Farad very carefully on his return,’ said Narendra, ‘but he was killed despite our best attempts.’

‘So do you know who did it?’

Narendra turned back to the TriView projection and skipped through a series of menus. After a couple of seconds, Saul recognized the streets of Sophia, from the viewpoint, again, of someone wearing contacts.

‘You are witnessing the last minutes of my brother’s life,’ Narendra explained, his expression sour.

From the way the view shifted around, it was clear that Maalouf was casting darting glances all around. He was accompanied by three grim-faced men, Eren amongst them, and it was late at night. The giant struts supporting the city’s canopy curved overhead like white bones. The four men crossed a street quickly, all of them shooting glances here and there, as if they were being hunted.

Saul flinched instinctively as the first shots rang out. He saw one of the three men accompanying Maalouf drop to the ground, blood pouring from one side of his head. Maalouf either started to run, or was dragged, in the direction of a doorway. Saul caught a brief glimpse of a van skidding to a halt nearby, its tyres screaming on the tarmac.

Donohue and another man, both armed with Cobras, jumped out of the van and began shooting. Farad’s viewpoint spun wildly, then ceased moving, showing nothing but the evening stars and the dark limb of Al-Khiba far overhead. Saul then caught sight of Eren backing into the same doorway, stepping over Maaloufrn,&os body before he crouched down to return fire.

Narendra made a gesture and the footage came to an immediate halt. ‘Eren was lucky to survive that encounter,’ he explained, ‘so he would very much like to know the identity of those men who killed Farad.’

Saul figured there had to be at least four in the assassination squad. The shots already fired before the van arrived meant that at least one person other than Donohue and the second gunman had taken part in the hit, while a fourth would have been in control of the van.

‘I can’t tell you who any of them are,’ Saul lied.

Narendra stared at him as if he didn’t believe a word.

‘The team you say were following me,’ Saul asked, ‘was it the same lot?’

‘Yes, it was.’

At that precise moment, Saul heard a low booming sound, not unlike a thunderclap. At first he thought it had come from the projector, then realized it came from somewhere outside the apartment. Narendra stood and listened, as if frozen, then suddenly broke into action, rushing to the door while directing a flow of dialogue at Eren.

‘What’s going on?’ asked Saul, following, but Narendra reached out a hand to stop him.

‘I don’t know,’ he muttered, then left the room.

Saul watched as the two men conversed in low, urgent tones. Eren was standing up now, his shotgun gripped ready in both hands. He moved away from the door until he was no longer directly visible to either man, and took the opportunity to push aside one corner of a lowered blind and peer out through the window behind.

He found himself looking directly along the entire length of the valley containing the city, towards the Newton Array at its far end. A dense cloud of grey and black smoke now rose above the Array, and was already beginning to pool under the giant canopy.

For one heart-freezing moment, Saul wondered if the Array had been sabotaged in the same way as the one on Galileo, thus stranding him light-years from home. But then the smoke thinned out a little, and he saw it rose not from the Array but from a tall building immediately next to it. Flames licked out of the building’s upper windows.

As he stared in awe, one side of another building, directly opposite the first, exploded into flames and black smoke, sending debris and glass tumbling downwards. A second low booming noise reached him a few seconds later, followed by the distinctive crackle of small-arms fire.

Saul tried to open the window, but found it wouldn’t budge. He pressed his forehead against the glass to peer down, and saw he was still a long way above the ground. Jumping out of there would only get him killed.

He stepped away from the window and headed back ver to the door. He saw Eren looming over Narendra, his voice turned angry. Narendra backed away, and Eren swung his shotgun at him like a club, battering him across the side of the head. The broker collapsed as if either unconscious or dead.

Saul darted back out of sight, squeezing behind the door into Farad’s office. He waited there, gripping the door handle, until he heard Eren’s heavy footsteps approaching.

The moment he stepped inside the office, Saul slammed the door into Eren’s face. But Eren batted it away with ease before barrelling into the room and levelling the shotgun. Saul lunged forward to try and wrench the shotgun out of his grasp, and for a moment they struggled for control of it.

The young guard who’d been set to watch the entrance came running into the living-room, and instantly brought his weapon to bear on Saul. Without thinking, Saul pulled himself close to Eren, twisting both of them around until Eren’s back was facing the guard. The larger man’s body jerked violently as the Agnessa’s bullets punched through his spine. He slumped forward, lifeless.

Saul grabbed hold of the shotgun and let himself fall back under the weight of Eren’s corpse, then heaved it to one side. Aiming the shotgun at the guard, he squeezed the trigger, and a fist-sized hole appeared in the man’s chest. The guard fell backwards in an awkward heap, the Agnessa clattering on to the wooden floor beside him.

Saul shuffled backwards until his shoulders were up against the wall beneath the window, his breath emerging in short, rapid gasps. He kept the shotgun trained on the living-room as he listened for the sound of running feet. He waited there for at least another minute, before slowly pushing himself upright and making his way back into the other room.

He kneeled beside Narendra, who lay face-down on the floor, and heaved him over. One side of the man’s head was crusted with blood, but he was clearly still breathing.

Narendra moaned, his eyes blinking open.

Saul rifled through Narendra’s pockets until he found a slim aluminium case containing a single set of contacts, then glanced back at Narendra in time to see his eyes start rolling up in their sockets.

He shook him fiercely. ‘Narendra!’ He held the case up where the other man could see it. ‘Look at me. Are these my contacts?’

Narendra managed to focus on the case and muttered something Saul couldn’t make out, before his eyes slid shut once more. Saul shook him again, slapping the man’s face and cursing, but it was clear a response wasn’t going to be forthcoming any time soon.

He pinched the contacts out of the aluminium case and dropped them on to his eyes. Relief surged over him like a wave once it became clear that they were his own. He tried first to access the local emergency data sources but found, to his consternation, that they were currently all down. Calling for help clearly wasn’t going to be an option any time soon.

There was no one to be heard, so if any of the neighbours had noticed any sounds of shooting or violence, they were doing the sensible thing and staying well out of sight.

Saul hurried back into the apartment, stepping over Eren’s motionless body as he once more entered the office. It took only a moment to locate all of the unencrypted video files on Maalouf’s network, before copying everything over to his own contacts.

A quick browse on the spot showed him that there were many, many other files than just the video logs Narendra had already shown him. He noticed documents in their hundreds, all marked for much higher levels of clearance than his own. Technically, his duty was to leave them untouched and hand them over to his immediate superiors.

To hell with that, he decided.

Saul abandoned his blood-spattered jacket, finding another that was a near fit in the bedroom wardrobe. It felt loose around his shoulders – Farad had been a couple of sizes larger – but it was long and roomy enough to conceal the Agnessa within its folds. Lastly he rifled the dead guard’s pockets until he found a box of spare ammunition, then headed down the stairwell as fast as he could, pointedly avoiding the elevator.

Once he was back outside, he looked out across the whole of the canopied city stretching out below. He walked rapidly away from the building he had been held in, sticking to the shadows and keeping an eye out for anyone who might be showing an undue interest in him.

There was another detonation as he moved, and he looked out across the cityscape to see smoke and flames rising from yet another building adjacent to the Array. He glanced up at the overhead canopy and wondered if there was any way of discerning whether or not it had been damaged. If by any chance it had, a very great number of people were going to die.

Picking up his pace, he crossed a street, heading for an elevated transit station a couple kilometres further down the slope. As a shadow fitted past his feet, Saul looked up in time to glimpse an observation drone flying overhead. He watched as it banked right, following the road and ignoring him.

Before long he came to a row of stalls beneath an awning running down the middle of a city block. By the look of things, the owners had left in a considerable hurry, leaving food and fruit scattered all across the street. He passed on down the road and caught sight of an abandoned trike with a kebab cart hooked up to the rear.

He looked around, but whoever owned the trike had clearly gone to ground along with everyone else. He bent down and pulled out the pin to uncouple the cart. As soon as he climbed on, the dashboard sprang to life. He twisted the throttle and guided the trike out on to the street, noting simultaneously that the battery had just about enough juice to get him as far as the Array.

He rode gingerly at first, feeling somewhat less than comfortable on anything with less than four wheels. He saw very few people, though the evidence of ongoing combat echoed loudly through the air. He came to an intersection and guided the trike on to a main thoroughfare, passing several cars and vans shooting at high speed in the opposite direction, away from the city centre.

Saul opened up the throttle, gathering speed and making his way down a second thoroughfare, as he followed the course of an elevated rail line back towards the Array.

The closer he got to the Array, the more ASI drones he saw. One passed him in the opposite direction, broadcasting a message warning people to stay off the streets, but whoever was operating it had failed to spot him hidden beneath the elevated train track. A few minutes later, however, he nearly came flying off the trike when another drone fired on him. He jumped off and dashed for the relative cover of a nearby doorway, then waited and watched till the drone buzzed away over the rooftops.

He glanced across the street and noticed three other men hiding in the open doorway of a shuttered shop. One waved to Saul and beckoned him to come closer. He approached them warily, keeping his borrowed coat pulled tight around him, the Agnessa pressing against his thigh where he’d tucked it into his waistband.

The oldest-looking of the three had a carefully trimmed, greying beard, and he addressed Saul in Arabic. Saul’s contacts instantly gave him a rough-and-ready live translation.

‘What the hell are you up to?’ the old man demanded. ‘You’ll get yourself killed riding around in the open like that. You don’t see anyone else out on the streets, do you?’

‘I don’t know what’s going on here,’ Saul replied in English.

From the way the old man squinted at him in confusion, it was clear he wasn’t wearing contacts.

‘He’s not from around here,’ one of the younger men informed the old man, before turning to Saul. ‘Amid doesn’t like technology, but you can speak to me. You’re from Earth, right?’

Saul nodded, glad that at least one of them had active translation enabled in his contacts. ‘I was at the other end of town, doing some business, and now I’m just trying to find my way to the Array, so I can get back home.’

Amid’s younger companion nodded thoughtfully. ‘Must have been quite some business to get yourself knocked about like that.’ He gestured towards Saul’s bruised face. ‘You’ll have a hard time getting anywhere near the Array, I can tell you. Haven’t you heard? We’re being invaded.’

‘By the Coalition?’

Amid started at mention of the word, then spat out a string of invectives that Saul’s contacts struggled to comprehend.

‘Their tanks came through just over a day ago,’ said one of them. ‘Soldiers, too, appearing like ants out of an anthill. They took over the Legislature, and now there’s fighting on the streets all around the colonial government building, with Al Hurr taking on Black Dogs and drones.’ Maz shook his head. ‘A lot of dead people already.’

Sudden shouting from nearby was followed by gunshots, and then an explosion that shook the ground beneath their feet. Several men with scarves or T-shirts covering their faces came running along the street. One of them carried an assault rifle, while another brandished a rusty-looking axe. They soon disappeared around a corner, followed a minute later by a heavily armed drone.

‘I’m not hanging around out here any longer,’ said one of the men, disappearing back inside the shuttered premises, as smoke started drifting above the rooftops of a neighbouring street. ‘You’ll all get your heads blown off if you stay out here.’

His companions followed him inside, the old man giving Saul an angry glance, as if he were somehow responsible.

Saul continued in the direction the fighters had emerged from, abandoning the trike now it seemed likely to draw too much attention. He soon came to an intersection, where a truck lay on its side, with broken bodies scattered all around. The rear of the vehicle still smouldered, while every window in the surrounding buildings appeared to have been shattered.

A targeted hit, Saul guessed, almost certainly from the drone that had passed by just a few minutes before. He started moving again, then froze when he heard that familiar buzz-saw rattle from behind. He turned to hear a mechanized voice shouting at him in Arabic.

A drone hovered just a few metres away, its central rotor scattering a blizzard of dust and debris outwards from beneath it. Twin gun turrets were mounted on either side of its primary sensors.

‘I’m ASI!’ Saul yelled over the din it made, raising his hands slowly. His Agnessa, momentarily forgotten, clattered to the ground at his feet.

‘ASI!’ Saul screamed again, dropping to his knees.

Dear God, please let it have a human operator, thought Saul, wondering how many seconds he had left before the bullets started ripping into him.

The drone wobbled slightly, light glinting from one of its lenses as a genuinely human voice emerged from it a moment later.

‘Hey, you’re ASI! I’m picking up on your UP.’

Saul let his breath out in a juddering rush. ‘Fine, can I take my hands down now?’ he yelled up at the machine.

‘Wait a second,’ the operator replied, almost certainly speaking from some temporary command post deep inside the Newton Array. ‘I need to run further verification on your ID, sir. You could have stolen those contacts, for al I know. Please wait just there.’

There was a click and a hiss of static as the operator went offline, presumably so he could consult with some superior officer. Saul bent down to pick up the Agnessa, keeping his eye on the drone the whole time. He kept the barrel pointing downwards as he waited.

The operator came back. ‘Sorry, sir, you check out fine. If you want to rendezvous with a clean-up squad, you can—’

Saul heard the sound of running feet once again, voices calling to each other in Arabic. Ignoring the drone, Saul crawled underneath a bus parked nearby, before turning to look back on to the street.

Two armed men appeared around a corner, and the drone wobbled around to face them. One of the two dropped face-forward as the machine fired several rounds into his body, while the second leaped back around the same corner. Saul heard a subtle change in the sound of the drone’s rotors as it moved to follow the fugitive.

A moment later, he heard a sound like a pop followed by a hiss. Something slammed into the drone, as it passed into the next street, engulfing it in flames. It spun wildly, its gyros obviously damaged.

A second rocket struck the drone, shattering it this time, and sent shards of metal spinning across the rubble-strewn roadway. There were shouts of jubilation and, a few moments later, more armed men came running towards Saul along the street.

He crouched low, hoping to stay invisible, but one of the resistance fighters, brandishing a meat cleaver, spotted him and yelled something that Saul’s contacts translated as a promise to kill him if he didn’t hurry the fuck up out of his hiding place.

Then things got really bad.

First, there was a bright eruption of light, and a deafening bass boom that Saul felt more than heard. The façade of the building opposite came tumbling down, burying most of the men now gathered triumphantly around the remains of the drone.

Saul closed his eyes, his ears still singing from the explosion, and when he opened them once more, the man threatening him had disappeared.

He crawled out from under the bus just as a Black Dog came pounding around the corner, bigger than any other he’d ever seen before, and with heavy cannons mounted between its metallic shoulders. Half a dozen armed Consortium troopers followed on foot, their outlines rendered indistinct by their active chameleon armour.

‘Hey, is your name Saul Dumont?’ one of them yelled, lowering his weapon to his side, as the rest of the squad moved past Saul towards the other end of the street. ‘We got word from one of our operators, so who you with?’

Saul shook his head. ‘I’m not with anyone.’ He stared down at his torn and filthy jacket, his skin now caked with dust, and realized he had no idea where the Agnessa had disappeared.

‘Right.’ The trooper looked around, his armour reflecting the smoking rubble, making it hard to focus on him. ‘You need transport?’

‘I’m trying to get back to Florida,’ said Saul, wondering if he was in shock.

The trooper turned around, in an indistinct motion, lines of colour streaking as he looked back in the direction from which he’d appeared. ‘Well, we’re about to head back that way, because we need to recharge the Dog. Just try not to attract any more attention, will you? I think you just lost us a drone.’

‘Right.’ Saul nodded, feeling actually sorry.

The trooper turned back to his men, who were recovering the weapons dropped by the insurgents. Saul followed after them, dazed, his head filled with visions of monolithic structures under starless skies.