'Better than we are apparently,' Plax said bitterly. 'When I find out who's responsible for this...'

At that moment the swaying motion ceased abruptly as the vehicle carrying them came to a sudden halt. Immediately it was replaced by a sinking sensation which lasted for a few seconds and ended with a slight jar. Then the vehicle began to move forward again, but this time at a moderate speed and without the apparent twists and turns that had gone before.

'While we're stuck in here anyway,' Barbara said to Plax.

'perhaps you could tell us what's going on in your city? Then we might be able to work out who's responsible for this.'

'Starting with that huge rocket,' Susan added.

Curiosity replaced Plax's bl.u.s.ter. 'You really don't know about the Ship, do you? It's going to take us to Mirath...

He gave a concise account of the situation in Arkhaven and a more grudging explanation of his own presence. This knowledge, however, did not help to explain their current circ.u.mstances and they could only speculate about what lay ahead. They examined their surroundings once again but the cages remained depressingly secure.

Plax kept saying: 'Don't worry. They'll soon let us go when they find out who I am.' Almost as an afterthought he added: 'I don't suppose the mayor will let anything happen to you either.'

Barbara thought he was speaking more for his own rea.s.surance than theirs. Her ears popped again. 'Did you feel that?' she asked Susan.

'Yes. I think we must be climbing very slowly.'

After half an hour of steady travel their speed slackened, the vehicle made a few gentle turns and then stopped. A hatch at the end of the compartment opened, flooding it with harsh artificial light. The doors of their cages slid back and a voice said: 'Come out of there. Don't try anything... we're armed.'

Stiffly they climbed out of their cages and walked over to the hatch. Against the dazzle of light they could just make out a flight of metal steps leading downwards. Cautiously they descended and stepped on to dry, hard-beaten gravel.

They were in a large cave lit by strings of artificial lights.

One end was open to the night sky while the mouths of half a dozen smaller tunnels ringed its walls. Three men carrying what looked like snub-nosed machine guns stood waiting for them. They wore grey one-piece uniforms without any visible markings or insignia.

'Move,' said one of the three, indicating the way with a twitch of his gun barrel.

Plax opened his mouth as though to protest, but with an evident effort contained himself. As they moved in the direction indicated, Barbara looked back at the machine that had brought them there.

Its roughly teardrop-shaped body was covered in some material so completely matt-black that it was hard to make out any details even under the cave lights. She could only just identify the hose 'snake' concertinaed along its roof, its head projecting forward over the heavy rounded prow of the vehicle and making its outline even more bizarre.

They pa.s.sed along a side tunnel and then into a small alcove fitted out like an office. Within it a middle-aged man, dressed in another of the featureless grey uniforms, was seated behind a desk. His tired eyes flicked over them briefly as they entered but then turned back to his desk, almost as though he preferred not to look at them.

'If you obey orders and work well you'll have decent food and quarters,' he said without any preamble. 'If you slack or cause any trouble you'll lose your rations. If you try to escape you'll probably die. The only way out is guarded and you'll find any other route impa.s.sable.'

He spoke mechanically, as though reciting familiar but distasteful phrases.

'What is this place?' Susan asked. 'Why have you brought us here?'

'That's not your concern,' he said flatly. 'If you want things to be easy, you don't ask any questions.'

'But you've no right to treat us like this,' Barbara said.

The tired eyes flicked across her once again. 'Right?

Maybe not but that's how it is. Be sensible and make it easy on yourselves.' He handed them numbered metal tags hanging on thin chains. 'These are your work numbers. You'll need them to get rations.'

Plax, who had been listening to the exchanges with evident growing disbelief, could finally contain himself no longer.

'What is this nonsense? You can't make me another number. Do you know who I am?' He took a step forward and thumped the desk. 'My name is...'

A guard drove the b.u.t.t of his gun into his stomach. Plax doubled up and dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. The man behind the desk looked down at him wearily.

'Here you are nothing just another worker, no more, no less. You're fined one meal for speaking out of turn.'

The man looked at the others dispa.s.sionately.

'I advise you all to get some sleep if you can. You'll start work as soon as it gets light.'

He nodded to the guards.

'Now take them away.'

Chapter Twenty-Two.

Inquisition Fostel dressed in his full ceremonial robes. He felt the occasion justified it. In the absence of his usual attendant, Zeckler a.s.sisted.

'There was no trouble taking her?' the bishop asked.

'No, my lord,' Zeckler said. 'We were able to gag her before she realised anything was wrong and the transfer was made without incident. We took all precautions against being followed here.'

'Good. We must not be disturbed until we have determined the truth. It cannot be mere coincidence that these aliens have arrived here at this critical time.'

'I have given the matter considerable thought, my lord.

Have they been sent to test or mislead us? To sabotage the Ship, perhaps? Are they demons in human form? There are descriptions of such things in the holy scripts.'

Even Fostel found Zeckler's literalism was sometimes hard to accommodate but if he were right...

'Perhaps tonight we shall find out,' he said.

The surroundings were hardly suitable for such an occasion, Fostel thought, but in these times one had to make do.

The girl was tied to a chair positioned in the middle of what had been the health club's gymnasium. Exercise bars and frames were still fixed to the walls.

Fostel sat down in the cheap moulded chair at the desk, which was set with lights arranged to shine in the girl's face, and gestured to one of the acolytes to remove her gag and blindfold.

She blinked at them, obviously frightened. Well, she only had herself to blame, Fostel thought. She should have cooperated in the hospital.

'You are here to be judged in the court of the Supreme Maker,' he told her. 'You will answer all questions fully and accurately... or else suffer the consequences.'

She fought to keep her voice steady.

'What questions? Why have you kidnapped me?'

'To show the faithful that aliens are not above the divine authority of the Church. To determine your true natures... and whether you are fit to partic.i.p.ate in the salvation of our race.'

'You must be feeling very insecure,' she retorted with unexpected spirit. 'Does your Supreme Maker usually have to resort to kidnapping?'

'You will not question the will of the Maker,' he said, 'or use His name irreverently.'

'I'm not questioning your deity, just the actions of his servants.'

'Hold your tongue, girl,' snapped Zeckler.

'I can't answer your questions and hold my tongue at the same time,' she retorted quickly. 'Unless you're overruling what your bishop just told me.'

'Stop playing foolish games with us,' Fostel warned her.

'Would it make any difference in the end? You're determined to do whatever you want anyway. But you won't get away with it. The authorities will guess you're responsible.

Wherever this place is they'll find me sooner or later.'

'I'm sure the mayor will suspect me,' Fostel agreed, 'but he cannot prove anything, and without proof he can take no action. No doubt my residence is being watched even now because they think I returned there after midnight service. In fact it was a Believer who bears a close enough resemblance to me in the dark to serve as my double. I can return by similar means. So you see, I will not be personally connected with anything that happens here this night. But you are wrong when you say your answers will not make any difference to your fate.'

'You really mean you'll simply let me go if I tell you what you want to know?'

'If we are satisfied with your answers.'

'And what's to stop me telling everybody what you did afterwards?'

'I have no doubt the mayor will advise against any such action. He cannot risk disturbing the peace this close to the exodus.'

'But we're not any threat to you. We came here by accident. My Grandfather's even helping with your Ship!'

'We cannot accept alien knowledge if it is false, or corrupts our people and diverts their attention from the One Path.'

'But we're not trying to convert your people to other beliefs,' she said. Then she frowned. 'You want to claim all the credit for getting everybody to Mirath safely, don't you?

That's what all this is really about.'

Zeckler stepped forward, clasped a handful of her hair in his fist and pulled her head backwards until she stared up into his cold narrow eyes.

'You will not speak to His Reverence in that accusing tone again. You are here to answer questions, not ask them. Do you understand, alien?'

'I understand,' she gasped.

Zeckler released her hair slowly, in the process letting his hand slide across her shoulder, Fostel noted. She flinched away from his touch.

'Your grandfather talked of a plurality of worlds inhabited by many different beings, but nothing of their spiritual nature,'

Fostel said. 'Do they all acknowledge the Supreme Maker?'

The girl licked her dry lips and said carefully: 'There are many different beliefs about supernatural creators... probably as many as there are races in the universe.'

'But they must hold one truth in common to explain their existence, their origins.'

'No, and that's the truth. I don't know anything about any Supreme Maker, only science and reason. Many races use science to explain their origins and how they evolved into what they are.' She added quickly: 'But science cannot prove or disprove whether such a being as your Supreme Maker actually exists.'

'Then you worship science,' Zeckler interjected contemptuously.

'Science isn't a religion, it's just a way of finding out the truth about how things work.'

'It is an evil if it denies the One Truth!' Fostel said.

'If you believe so,' she agreed hastily. 'Maybe you're right... I can't tell.'

'Then tell us what your science says of our origins, girl,'

Fostel demanded.

'Well... from the instrument readings in our ship, my grandfather thinks your ancestors came here thousands of years ago from Earth.'

'What is Earth?' Fostel asked suspiciously.

'Earth is the homeworld of your species. It was the starting point for many voyages of exploration and colonisation that reached out across the galaxy. There must have been some disaster after landing here on Sarath that left your ancestors without technology or records of where you came from. In the struggle to survive, knowledge of your past was lost or turned into legends. It's not that unusual. I've been to other worlds where this has happened.'

'Is this Earth known as the holy world?' Fostel asked.

'I don't know what you mean.'

'Is it not revered?'

'It's the planet on which humanity evolved. Otherwise it's perfectly ordinary.'

'How can you know that, alien?' Zeckler said.

'Well, I've lived there for a while.'

'Liar!' said Zeckler. 'An alien would never be permitted to walk the Holy Land... or are you a demon under your deceiving skin?'

'That's stupid... I'm not a demon!' she said. 'And I can't change the facts. Earth is just a planet like this one.'