It had been a long weekend for Borisovich, but making money always came before making whoopee. It was midweek, but being able to pick and choose when to show up for work was a privilege of being the boss.

The office was a converted furniture-maker's workshop on an industrial estate on the south side of Moscow. It was roughly halfway between the old Olympic village and the docks.

From the outside, it was a total dump. Even a tramp would baulk at passing through it, which was just the way Borisovich liked it. The interior was a cheesy bar/bordello mix with some backroom labs and a Georgian restaurant tucked away in back. His own office was above and behind the stage so he could keep an eye on things, especially the strippers.

This early in the morning, there were no strippers, so his PC had his full attention. The lesbian hardcore screen saver disappeared as he logged on to collect the weekend's e-mails.

There was the usual bunch of crap: spams, minor business deals that could wait, a warning of a forthcoming raid on one of his premises nearer the city centre. The last one caught his interest: From: Lung Tau Tb: recipients list Subject: prospecting Date: Monday 14 April 1997, 03:16 Just a quick shopping list. We're in the market for certain new types of ores, which might be discovered, or have been discovered in the recent past.

Properties of the desired ores include a complete lack of corrosion, regardless of environmental situation. Also a flexibility not usually seal in metal. Top prices will fee paid as usual.

Captain Clark rapped on the door of the room Barry had appropriated for himself the previous night, and entered when he called. Major Barry was picking at a meagre breakfast culled from the loggers' supplies, and poring over some maps. 'What's up, Captain?' He seemed cheerful enough, and she hated to be the one to break that mood.

'I wanted to talk to you about taking this camp last night.'

He pushed a mug of coffee towards her. 'What about it? It went off without a hitch.'

'Yes sir, it did, and I'm glad to see that everyone did their job properly.

Except that we should never have done it.'

Barry leant back and ran a hand over his flat-top. 'And why not?'

'This is supposed to be a covert mission - it just needed one of the loggers to get away, or get a call out, and we'd be blown. Also, we don't know whether this place is monitored. It was an unnecessary risk of the team's lives before even reaching our target area, and it was a waste of ammunition and resources.'

'Is that all?' He looked and sounded distinctly less happy now.

'For now, yes.'

'Good. It was my call, and I made it for good reasons. No resources have been wasted, because we now have a firebase close enough to our target area, which can be resupplied by helicopter.'

'And the unnecessary risk?'

Barry's glower darkened, and she knew she had him there. Being put on the defensive always made him stroppy. 'Are you afraid of taking a few risks?' he asked. 'No pain, no gain.'

'I'm not afraid of taking any risks to complete the mission. But this place has no bearing on the mission. It just gives us more comfortable beds.

Purely personal gain.'

'You're welcome to take a tent out and sleep in the mud if you want.

Perhaps your principles should insist on it - if they're as solid as they seem to be.'

Clark couldn't answer. She sure as hell wasn't going out to sleep in the mud when she now had a bed in one of the huts.

'Exactly,' Barry said smugly. 'Dismissed, Captain.'

Yi Chung had never voluntarily walked into a police station in his life. He'd been in them often enough, just never willingly. Now he was standing outside Wong Tai Sin station, trying to build up the courage to go in. His libido kept reminding him of last night's frustration. Emily had insisted on leaving him in the street and going home. He couldn't really blame her, after that that thing. The only good side was that she had been too freaked out by it to realise how much he had been freaked out. thing. The only good side was that she had been too freaked out by it to realise how much he had been freaked out.

It must have been really freaky, he realised, to drive him to go to the cops.

He had no idea what they could do about it, but maybe this had happened to other people. Yi Chung wouldn't wish such weirdness on anyone. It was one thing to chop someone who had crossed you; that was just normal business. Flying saucers were something else, and surely more important than any cop/Triad differences.

Steeling himself, feeling both responsible and horribly stupid, Yi Chung went in. A weary-looking desk sergeant greeted him. 'What do you want?'

'I want to report a a' He couldn't even bring himself to say it.

'A what? Theft? Murder?'

'I want to report a UFO.'

The sergeant looked at him. 'A UFO? Is this a joke? Making fun of the cops as a bit of light relief from selling heroin?'

Yi Chung had expected this, but felt crushed all the same. 'I'm serious. I was with Emily Ko from the Goldilocks Hair Salon. We both saw it. It stopped our car -' He stopped as the desk sergeant held up a hand.

'All right. I'll bring a statement form and you can make a written statement.

OK?'.

Yi Chung nodded enthusiastically. He wanted to warn people about this, but he was beginning to hurt, and needed to get home and take something for it.' Yes, thank you.' He grinned.

Yue Hwa woke with the same start every day, Qi Wang Chuan's face fading with the rest of the usual dream. The dream used to haunt him and make him pray for deliverance, but after a few months, it was merely an irritation. By now, it had simply become part of his routine, and he had already put it out of his mind by the time he had showered.

On the way to the Pimms Building, he called Tse Hung from his car. 'It's Yue Hwa. Did you get anything from Lefty Soh?'

'Yes,' Tse Hung replied. 'Apparently he sent a Hong Yi Chung and Ah Fei to Wing's apartment on the pretext of settling a gambling debt.'

'Then they didn't know about the box?'

'Lefty assumed Wing would be so scared, he'd hand it over. He didn't want to tempt them by mentioning how much we want it. They may not have taken it, but I'm having their apartments watched anyway. I'll question them personally when they show up.' Tse Hung sounded pleased at the prospect, but Yue Hwa ignored this.

Tse Hung seemed to be under the impression that violence was good for business. Others disagreed. Yue Hwa just accepted that it happened, but otherwise it was as uninteresting as any of life's other mundanities.

Katie Siao could never stomach breakfast until she'd been awake for at least a couple of hours. Unfortunately, she tended to wake half an hour before she needed to punch in at the station. With no breakfast to fuel her, she'd scrounge whatever was to hand in the canteen. That done, she'd make her way to her desk in the squad room to see what joys awaited her.

The top sheet this morning was a note of an address for a known associate of the late Wing. It was a lead she and Sing hadn't encountered yet, but was probably not too important. She'd still visit the address later.

Shaking her head, Siao took it down to the uniformed squad room, where the desk sergeant was relaxing after the end of his shift. She waved the paper in his face. 'Why did this come up to homicide?'

'We ran the complainant's name and got a record off him. He's a known associate of Wing, the guy whose death you're investigating.'

Siao nodded slowly. She doubted this imaginative youth could possibly have killed Wing. 'So, who is this guy?'

'Yi Chung? A Fei Jai; a wide boy. Nobody important.'

'So, what what he wants to cut a deal for something?' It wasn't the first time. he wants to cut a deal for something?' It wasn't the first time.

Most Triads valued making a quick profit over everything else, but enough of them valued their skins more. Also, the cops were, perversely, a weapon in the Triads' arsenal: now and again a member of one gang would sell out a member of another to the cops, as routine turf-war business. Nobody sold out members of their own gangs, of course.

'No' Siao could tell when someone was trying not to say something that would damage their credibility, and she could smell this one coming a mile off.

'He claims a UFO just tried to abduct him and his& companion.'

'Girlfriend?'

The sergeant made a so-so gesture. 'Apparently it was their first date.'

'And probably their last.' Siao closed her eyes resignedly. 'A UFO?'

'Yes&' He looked at his notes. 'A "glowing silver disc" according to his statement. Apparently it flew off towards Lantau Island.'

Siao was silent for a moment, hoping the sergeant would assume she was intelligently reviewing the facts, and wouldn't realise that she had no idea how to handle a UFO report. This was far outside her normal purview, and she didn't even watch The X Files. Most likely the pair had been high or drunk, but she didn't think it could hurt to ask around. If any unidentified objects were flying around, then it followed that the airport would be a good place to start.

'Get someone to call air traffic control at both Kai Tak and Chek Lap Kok and see whether anything they handled fits the location and time. If it doesn't, then get hold of Cheung Chau radar station and ask if they picked anything up.'

'And if they did?'

'They won't have; there's no such thing as flying saucers.' She had another thought, and tossed the report back. 'I've got a better idea. UNIT were on the prowl looking for cooperation. This is the kind of thing they're into, isn't it? Let them waste their time on it.'

Siao had already forgotten the report by the time the door closed after her on her way out of the room.

Tse Hung sat in the nursing home's parking area for several long minutes, steeling himself for one of the most difficult parts of his regular weekly routine. It didn't help that Bonnie never came with him. She had visited once, proclaimed it a 'zombie farm' and never returned.

The home was on a hillside overlooking Repulse Bay, and Tse Hung found the name strangely appropriate. The atmosphere and medicinal odour of the place did repulse him somewhere deep down. He tried not to show it, or even to let the feeling take hold in his consciousness, but he knew it was there.

He locked the car and went inside. Everything was clean, the staff were friendly and the decor was fresh. None of it helped, as far as Tse Hung was concerned. His view was that you always knew that the smell of disinfectant and air freshener was there to cover the scents of vomit, stale sweat, dead skin, and incontinence.

The magazines in the public areas and the TVs tuned to news channels reminded him of a small airport. It was a departure lounge, certainly, for those with whom fate had caught up. Part of Tse Hung's problem with the home was that he hated to see people who had probably led good lives reduced to being looked after. The other part was that he wondered how long it would be before fate hooked him, and reeled him into such a place.

He signed in the visitors' book and went on through to a disturbingly clean and sterile bedroom containing an old man smoking a pipe. He was wearing simple black trousers and a blue shirt, and was watching the racing on TV. The air freshener was stronger than usual, and Tse Hung hesitated at the door. 'Hello, Father,' he said.

The old man looked round. 'Hello.' He squinted. 'I know you, don't I?' The same as ever.

'It's me, Tse Hung. Your son.'

The old man brightened. 'Tse Hung!'

'I brought you some things. A couple of books, CDs of your favourite music.

And' He looked around stagily, making a show of checking whether anyone was watching. 'Good Scotch.' He put the bag with the things on to a spare chair.

'Thanks, son.' The old man peered through the door. 'Isn't your mother with you? Or is she still not speaking to me?' Tse Hung didn't let his father see the internal wince he felt.

His mother had died four years ago. What was he supposed to do? lie and make the old man think his wife didn't love him? Or remind him of the truth and break his heart, knowing that he'd have forgotten by tomorrow? What would his father view as true anyway? What he was told, or what his brain held to be true?

'There were were visitors,' Tse Hung told him. 'She couldn't get away, but she said she'd come and see you tomorrow.' It hurt to do that, but by tomorrow his lather would have forgotten anyway. It seemed like the answer that would hurt him least. visitors,' Tse Hung told him. 'She couldn't get away, but she said she'd come and see you tomorrow.' It hurt to do that, but by tomorrow his lather would have forgotten anyway. It seemed like the answer that would hurt him least.

'I see see Well, at least you're here. How are you getting along?' Well, at least you're here. How are you getting along?'

'The company is doing well. Trade is good, and we're ready to start issuing shares soon.'

'Good, good.' The old man clapped Tse Hung weakly on the shoulder.

'You'll make your fortune soon, you know.'

"That's the idea,' Tse Hung admitted.

One of the shirt-sleeved technicians rapped on Tsang's office door.

'Colonel, we've received a report from the Hong Kong police - a UFO sighting from last night. Attempted abduction, according to the witness.'

Tsang was immediately interested. 'Does it match any of the anomalous radar returns?'

'Yes, sir. 1.14 a.m. The witness saw it fly off in the direction of Lantau Island, but we tracked it further.'

'Same as the others?'

'Yes, sir.'

"That's the fourth this week& What are they up to?'

'Perhaps we'd know more if we knew who they were,' the technician ventured.

Tsang snorted. 'Only one person seems to know that, and he's not telling us us'

After an hour or so, Tse Hung was ready to leave the nursing home.

Actually, he'd have been ready to leave after five seconds but his duty to his family wouldn't permit less than an hour.

He went straight to the duty manager's office. It was plusher than any of the residents' rooms, which irritated Tse Hung. People - not least himself - paid high prices to have family members looked after as well as possible. The manager was in, filling out a form of some kind. Paperwork instead of treatment, that wasn't what Tse Hung was paying for.

"The resident in room 12,' he said, walking up to the desk. The rake-thin, bespectacled manager looked up. 'He was sick today?' The extra air freshener had been like a neon sign pointing to the fact.

'Your father, isn't he? Yes, he was. Something in the breakfast didn't agree with him.'

'Ah.' Tse Hung nodded understandingly. He grabbed the manager's hair, and bounced his face off the desk a couple of times. The manager looked at the form, more aghast that his precious paperwork had been stained than that he was bleeding. Tse Hung slapped him. 'I pay for him to be well cared for.' He hunkered down until he was at eye level with the slumped manager. 'If this happens again, I will have your hands cut off.' A pause for the words to sink in. 'Do you understand me?'

The manager nodded frantically. 'I 'I yes.' yes.'

'Good.' Tse Hung straightened and walked out, pausing by the door.

'Maybe you should redo that form. Contracts don't need to be written in blood these days.'

Even someone like Yi Chung could only listen to a ringing tone for just so long before giving up on the hope that his call would be answered. It took a lot to get him down and stop him smiling, but he was getting there now.

No more Emily for him. Even he could see that.