Jarrasen's appreciation of the old man's knowledge and powers of concentration had been growing steadily.

Occasionally the Doctor would become irritable as he transposed a technical term or made some minor error in his calculations, but it was obvious that he had forgotten more about atomic engineering and s.p.a.cecraft design than Jarrasen would ever know. How he would love to spend more time with the man; to talk to him in person and even investigate that improbable craft of his, which he still could not quite believe in. But, if the project was to stay within its safety margins, time was the one thing he didn't have.

At last he sat back from his board, ma.s.saging the back of his neck.

'Well, you've given me plenty to work on, Doctor. I'll have to get the technicians started on these modifications straight away. Just ask Monitor if you want to link with me again. He can always find me.'

'One moment, Professor. I am curious as to why everything you have asked me to check so far has been concerned solely with the second stage of the Ship. Are you certain the main body will function perfectly?'

Jarrasen smiled. 'It's very simple. The second stage the landing module is the unit that's going to do the most work.

The main body, despite its size, is really the simpler device. A brute-force lifter and cargo pod. I'm as certain as I can be that it will function correctly, but frankly it's too ma.s.sive to modify now. It does have the capacity to land on Mirath, but not to take off again, so finding the right landing site is essential. That reconnaissance will be carried out by the Lander. If we don't find a suitable spot it will have to ferry down the colonists and their supplies in several trips. So you see, that's the vehicle that we shall rely on most and which must be as safe as we can make it.'

'I understand now,' the Doctor said. 'Only I had noticed its reaction ma.s.s capacity was limited. I would estimate it could only just lift off unaided if it was completely unladen.'

'That's quite correct. The Lander will be refuelled in orbit from the main body as required.'

'Of course. Well, I mustn't detain you any further, Professor.'

After Jarrasen had gone the Doctor stared thoughtfully into s.p.a.ce for some minutes. Then he said: 'Monitor. What is your estimate of the chances of the Ship launching successfully?'

'Based on the projected performance of the vehicle as specified by Professor Jarrasen, the launch plan has a 96 per cent chance of success.'

'I suppose those are encouraging odds compared to the alternative,' the Doctor admitted. 'You know, I'm greatly impressed by the speed with which you have mastered a technology your ancestors must have lost thousands of years ago. It is a remarkable feat to develop such a ma.s.sive vehicle in such a relatively short time.'

'It is true we are more advanced in other fields, Doctor.

Chemistry, cybernetics and medicine have traditionally been fields of special study in Arkhaven.'

'Indeed. The treatment my Susan is receiving is most sophisticated.'

'The war brought about many improvements in medical techniques while also stimulating the development of interceptor missile systems,' Monitor said. 'Prior to that no country on Sarath had reason to develop rocketry or s.p.a.ceflight technology.'

'Of course,' the Doctor mused. 'Unlike your forebears on Earth, your moon was an insignificant body before its...o...b..t changed. A mere point of light would not fire the imagination as a goal or a stepping stone to other worlds. Other sciences would flourish with disproportionate speed. There would be less incentive to develop s.p.a.ce travel.'

'I have observed that the moon is providing us with ample incentive now, Doctor,' said Monitor.

Commander Pardek shifted uneasily in his chair and glanced at his desk clock.

'I can only give you a few minutes, Captain. I'm due at the council meeting shortly.'

'Then I'll be as brief as I can, sir,' said Ben. 'I appreciate my a.s.signment to this squad is only temporary, but I have had to request reports on the search for the escapees each time, rather than being automatically updated.'

'Well, I'm sorry you seem to have been overlooked. Terrel liked to run the squad his way and his men may be less flexible than they could be. I'll have a word with him when he gets back. And I have taken note of your request for additional resources to be diverted to the camp. Now, if that's all...'

'I'm afraid that's not all, sir. I have a query about the number of NC2s that were recaptured the night before last.'

'Well?'

'I was told by Commandant Breen that only six were returned to the camp. However, Plaxander Vendam seems to think he and his friends captured fourteen.'

'Vendam? I wouldn't trust anything that boy says.'

'No, but I a.s.sume he can count. Keeping score was all part of the sport for them.'

'Very well. I'll look into the matter.'

'If you could do it immediately, sir. You understand that I must know where I stand with the men under my command, even for just a few days. Especially if they can apparently lose over half of a group of prisoners in a few hours. Sergeant Erindro was in charge. He should be back at headquarters by now. Perhaps if you could have a word with him?'

Pardek checked his clock again, then with evident displeasure picked up the phone.

Erindro came in a few minutes later. When Pardek demanded an explanation for the loss of eight prisoners he looked shamefaced.

'It's sort of embarra.s.sing, sir. One of the transporters broke down on the way back from the scene of the arrest... you know the sort of problems we've been having with maintenance. While the crew were checking it over the NC2s broke out the back and made a bolt for it... I think the rear-cage locking must be faulty as well. Anyway, as they weren't yet booked in and we still had almost half of them, we thought we'd wait a bit before reporting it. We were sure we could pick them up again soon enough.'

'What you're saving is that a whole vanful of prisoners got away because of bad maintenance?' Ben said carefully.

'Yes, sir,' said Erindro.

'But why the h.e.l.l didn't you tell me?'

'We thought it would look bad for Captain Terrel, seeing as he would have to take the responsibility for not following up on the maintenance.'

'I see. I hope the other transporter was all right.'

'No problem, sir.'

'Well, that explains it. You may have acted out of loyalty, but it was still very stupid. However, any disciplinary action is up to the commander.'

Erindro was curtly dismissed. Pardek said: 'I'm sorry you've been bothered with this, Lant. Anyway, Terrel will be back on duty tomorrow, so you can return to the Wall guard.'

'Actually I'm liaison officer with the aliens, sir. And since the mayor said we were to extend them every courtesy, I'd like to do my best to find the Doctor's missing key.'

'Very well, hunt for your key. But don't waste your time over a few NC2s. They can't do much harm in the Outer Zone.

I'm sure they'll turn up sooner or later.'

'I'm sure they will, sir. After all there must be quite a lot of them by now.'

'What do you mean?'

'A good few hundred if Breen's figures are correct.'

Before Pardek could respond Ben said: 'But I mustn't keep you from the council any longer. Thank you very much for your help, sir.'

Outside Pardek's office the amiable expression left his face to be replaced by a look of scowling concern. Why was he being lied to?

His phone beeped for attention, and he answered it distractedly. It was one of the regular Outer Zone patrols.

'Captain, I thought I'd call you direct. We've found that runaway you were after.'

Pardek made his excuses to Draad as he hurried into the council chamber a few minutes late.

For much of the time the various members of Arkhaven's High Council did business with each other remotely, but it was traditional that once every ten days they should gather in person. It was a custom Draad thought they could well do without.

Vendam and Fostel were already seated round the table.

An air of expectant tension hung over them, manifesting itself in an uncomfortable protocol-imposed silence. Pardek took his place, completing the a.s.sembly and ensuring that all the significant cla.s.ses of Arkhaven were represented. The Common Citizens would have their say at Low Council.

Monitor acted as secretary and keeper of the records.

'I declare this session open,' Draad said.

Fostel and Vendam each tried to speak at once. Vendam won through as he had the louder voice.

'I move that the mayor be asked to explain his inexcusable behaviour of last night,' he said angrily.

For once Fostel nodded in agreement. 'It was a grave insult to the dignity of the Church for a request of its emissary to be so publicly rejected.'

Draad maintained a calm expression in the face of their accusations. When they paused, he said mildly: 'Well, I'm sure I didn't intend to insult either of you... in the same way as I'm sure you did not intend to risk destabilising the city's social balance by disturbing the few hours of relaxation that I permit myself each day.'

Vendam hesitated, still angry, but puzzled by the response.

'How does disturbing you destabilise the social balance.

Draad?'

'You must surely appreciate the damage you could have done by making those very public attempts to contact me.'

'What are you talking about?' snapped Fostel.

'The citizens must be rea.s.sured that we are in control of the situation... that is one fact we all agree on, is it not?'

The mayor is quite right,' said Pardek. 'We must keep the people calm.'

'Therefore to show any sign of disunity or lack of co-ordination was the worst thing you could have done,' Draad said. 'And consider the effect on our alien guests. I had to react firmly to rea.s.sure them that I was capable of keeping the promises I made to them.' He shrugged helplessly. 'I really had no choice.'

He saw a hint of uncertainty beginning to creep into the faces of Fostel and Vendam, and continued: 'To reiterate: the aliens pose no security threat to Arkhaven. Commander Pardek was informed once their ident.i.ty was established and since then they have been escorted by a reliable officer of the Watch. They are certainly not going to cause any trouble while one of their number is still lost and the other is receiving hospital treatment. Properly handled, their presence can be used to both divert and rea.s.sure the public during the crucial days up until the launch. The elder alien... the Doctor... is giving us invaluable advice on the Ship which may make the difference between success and disaster. Therefore I suggest this is an administrative matter for the Functionary and Technical cla.s.ses. Of course, you may meet with the aliens and judge for yourselves once they have settled in, but there is nothing to be gained by aggressive questioning or treating them with undue suspicion.'

'What about this craft of theirs... this box thing?' said Vendam. I can't believe it's what they claim. Is it dangerous?'

'Whether it is or not, it is safely under guard. If they find the means to open it again we shall be with them. But its impenetrability to any force we have so far applied does indicate a superior science. For the moment I see no reason to doubt their explanation.'

Vendam still looked ill-tempered but seemed willing to let the matter rest. Fostel was less easily satisfied.

'They may not pose a material threat to Arkhaven, but what about spiritually?' he asked, his eyes narrowing. 'They may bring dangerous ideas with them. Already their presence has been linked on the news broadcast with the Origin Question. They cannot be allowed to move freely in public until I have resolved this matter.'

Draad sighed. 'It may come as a surprise to you, Bishop, but the aliens have expressed no desire to undermine our spiritual beliefs. If they wish to worship in the cathedral I'm sure Captain Lam can show them the way. You may talk to them there if you wish. Otherwise, for the next few days at least, they must be left alone if they are to continue serving their purpose.'

Fostel's lips pinched. 'This is a matter of doctrine and morality, therefore Church law takes precedence.'

Draad looked Fostel straight in the eye and said quietly: 'Bishop, this may be a matter of our very survival as a people.

I maintain that takes precedence over everything else!'

Ben Lant stood over Gelvert's twisted body.

He would have liked to convince himself that the man looked at peace now, but in truth he looked anything but.

Death had frozen a look of utter terror on Gelvert's face.

'Did you find anything on him?' he asked the patrolmen who had alerted him.

'Just a thermal blanket and this.'

One of them handed over Gelvert's pack. Ben emptied it out. There was no sign of the Doctor's key. With a grimace he searched through Gelvert's pockets, also without success.

Ben looked up at the building that Gelvert must have fallen from.

'Find anything up there?'

'We're not sure... perhaps you'd better have a look yourself, sir.'

Once on the roof he saw what they meant.

Just beyond the smashed door of the service enclosure was a curious, long, sc.r.a.pe mark in the pliant waterproofing compound used to sheath the roof panels. On either side of it he could just make out rows of small nicks and pockmarks.

What could have left such traces, and had it anything to do with Gelvert's death? Did he fall by chance... or was he pushed?

Ben walked over to the roof parapet and looked down into the street below where Gelvert's body lay, trying to make sense of what he had found. He saw a car arrive containing the forensic examiner. At a time like this they should not be investigating mysterious deaths, he thought bitterly. He looked out over the sprawling city, wondering if it would keep its secrets until the very end of the world.

Ian had spent the morning at the remains of Carlson Tower, pacing restlessly around the command vehicle and watching intently as the machines dismantled the last few floors of the building. Curton would evidently have liked to ply him with questions about s.p.a.ce travel and other worlds but, sensitive to Ian's state of mind, he politely refrained.

Then, just after midday, he called Ian into the command vehicle and pointed to one of the screens that relayed images from the robot digging crew. It showed a yellow metal girder frame and a section of mesh protruding from between two slabs of concrete.

'That's the top of the lift cage.'

Ian took a deep breath. 'Any... sign of her?'

'No. I can't detect any sound or find a thermal trace. I'm just moving a grab in to lift that main slab.'

Shovel-like robotic arms reached down into the picture.

Metal fingers locked into position. Slowly the slab was raised clear and carried aside. Ian could hardly bear to look but he forced himself to scan the ma.s.s of flattened and twisted metal that had been the lift cage, knowing as he did so that n.o.body could have survived within it.