He righted the trolley on which he'd been bound, then threw a sheet over the top so that it hung to the floor and concealed the unconscious orderlies beneath. The surgeon he hid behind the freezer cabinet. He picked their key cards from their hip pouches and considered taking an orderly's uniform but they were both shorter and narrower around the shoulders than he was.

Jack found a roll of surgical tape and wrapped up his three prisoners, tying their hands behind their backs and covering their mouths.

He locked the doors of the operating theatre behind him, checking through their small round windows that no one could be seen, that the room looked empty. Then he hurried to where he thought the scream had come from. He found another theatre but this one was closed too. He shivered at the thought that it had claimed its victim and appreciated the timing of the alarm that had saved him more than ever.

He knew where he was going. Even strapped to the trolley, he had memorised his route on the way in, mindful of the likely need for a quick escape. He soon found his way back to the hanging plastic blinds through which he'd been pushed and into the main part of the house. He took cover as two orderlies walked by, talking animatedly about the state of the world today, about how more and more people were being lured into fiction use.

He was creeping down a carpeted corridor, the front door only two turns away, when he saw Rose.

Two orderlies had her arms. Two more were standing behind her. As Jack watched, they carried her into a lift. Rose was awake, but not fighting. Her expression was vacant. She was dragging her left leg as she tried to walk and a terrible fear knotted Jack's stomach.

What if they had done to her what they'd tried to do to him? What if it had been her scream he had heard?

No, he rea.s.sured himself. It had been a man's voice, he was sure. And chances were it had been Rose who had sparked the alarm, in which case they hadn't had time... They had probably just given her a 'shot', as Tyko had put it.

The lift doors closed and Jack hurried over to check the floor indicator, to see where they were taking her. It stopped on the fourth floor of the central block.

He looked around for the stairs.

Jack waited for the orderlies to move away from the door. They turned and came back to the lift, at last, and he darted back into the stairwell until they had pa.s.sed.

Then he sprinted for the dorm into which they had taken Rose.

He ran the surgeon's key card through the reader the wrong way round, as it happened. A light flickered red. And there were footsteps, coming towards him. Someone was about to round the corner and, stuck in the middle of the corridor like this, Jack had nowhere to hide.

He fumbled with the card again, cursing under his breath and wishing he'd tried to squeeze himself into an orderly's jumpsuit after all.

The lock disengaged and he almost fell through the door. As he closed it behind him, Rose looked up from the room's single bed where she lay, hugging herself. Her eyes were red and swollen, but hope ignited in them as she saw him.

Then it was gone, replaced by confusion and suspicion.

'Jack? Is that really you? Tell me it's you.' The words were laboured and a little slurred, as if it was an effort to say them.

He put a finger to his lips, silencing her, as the footsteps approached down the corridor. He crouched with his back flat against the door, so he couldn't be seen when the barred hatch above him opened.

He would have recognised Cal Tyko's voice even if the nurse hadn't introduced himself. 'And your name is?'

Rose didn't say anything. She raised herself onto her elbows, favouring her right side, blinking in the light of the room's enormous TV screen. She looked at Tyko and then, to Jack's horror, she looked directly at him.

'Who were you talking to?'

Rose returned her gaze to the nurse.

'Just now. Don't lie to me, I heard you as I came along the corridor. You were talking to someone.'

A short silence, during which Jack held his breath.

'You know there's n.o.body in here, don't you?' said Tyko. He had only to try the door, to find it unlocked, and the game would be up. Jack could take him out, of course, but not before he raised the alarm and there were orderlies all over this part of the asylum.

Rose looked at Jack again, then she seemed to make a decision that came as a relief to her. 'Yeah. Yeah, I know that.' She sank back into her mattress.

In a more kindly tone, Tyko said, 'I know this must be disconcerting for you. The medicine doesn't last long and it's wearing off. You're starting to imagine things again. If it gets too much, we can give you another shot, but it's far better if you can overcome these delusions by yourself.'

'No one else here,' muttered Rose sleepily.

'There'll be a reception cell free in an hour or so,' said Tyko. 'I'll send the orderlies to collect you and we can have a little chat, yes? Then I'll be able to help you.'

The hatch closed and Tyko's footsteps echoed away.

Jack breathed out, whistling through his teeth. 'Close thing.'

'Go away,' said Rose, turning her back to him.

'Rose?'

'I said go away. You're not real!'

'Hey, hey!' He crossed the room and laid a hand on her shoulder. She flinched. 'It's me. Captain Jack. "Not real"? You tell that to the guys I had to lay out to get this far.'

She was studiously ignoring him.

'Tell you what, if I can get you of here, will you believe I'm the genuine article?' He showed Rose his stolen key cards and the hope returned to her eyes. Jack fanned out the three cards with a grin. 'I'm building up a collection.'

'I need you to tell me something. You've heard of the Jagrafess, yeah?'

'The Mighty Jagrafess?'

'Yeah.'

'Of the Holy Hadroja.s.sic Maxarodenfoe?'

Rose was grinning now too. 'That'd be the one. You are are real! Oh, G.o.d, you're real!' They hugged each other, but suddenly Rose pulled away and her smile faded. 'The Doctor... I was with him...' real! Oh, G.o.d, you're real!' They hugged each other, but suddenly Rose pulled away and her smile faded. 'The Doctor... I was with him...'

'Was he captured too? Is he around here somewhere?'

Rose shook her head. 'You don't understand. He wasn't really here at all. When they put that needle in me, he just... faded... like a ghost... Jack, what's up?'

He had straightened and was pacing with his fist to his lips, his brow furrowed. 'You're right, I don't. I don't understand.' He turned back to Rose. 'If it can happen to us too... They call it "fantasy crazy". That's what you're telling me, right? You've been seeing things that aren't there.'

'I s'pose, yeah.'

'Like the doctors and the police have been saying all along. Did they do something to you, Rose? Is that it?'

'I don't think think...'

'When did it start? When did you first see this ersatz Doctor? Was it after you came to the Big White House?'

Rose screwed up her face in concentration. 'We got separated. I was running along and he was just there. I didn't know how he'd... I mean, he could have been real before then, I s'pose, but... No. No, I don't think he was. In the taxi... The way nothing he did seemed to work and no one seemed to see him.' Her voice heavy with selfrecrimination, she added, 'No one except me!'

'I thought we had it all worked out. I thought these people were being brainwashed, but the media, all this...' Jack waved a hand at the silent TV. 'They need it. They need to know to see see what's happening, what's real, all the time or else... else...' what's happening, what's real, all the time or else... else...'

'They start to imagine,' said Rose numbly. 'It happened before as well. This morning, I saw... I was seeing things. I did think... I dunno, but I wondered if it could be to do with Static. I saw Static, Jack.'

'Domnic said this Gryden guy hadn't been around too long not as long as the fiction ban but I guess he could...'

He was distracted by the TV. It was showing live footage of what a subt.i.tled reporter referred to as a 'fiction riot'. The rioters appeared to be few in number and unarmed unlike the police, who were laying into them with guns and shock batons. The disturbance was quickly quelled and the subt.i.tled reporter warned that this would be the fate of all those who chose to believe in Hal Gryden's warped fantasies.

'I guess they ran out of stories about traffic lights and carpark s.p.a.ces,' said Rose.

Jack had made up his mind. 'What they're doing here,' he said, 'it's wrong. I don't care if the inmates in this place are are sick, if fiction is driving them nuts or what what they did to you, what they tried to do to me, it's just... it's wrong.' sick, if fiction is driving them nuts or what what they did to you, what they tried to do to me, it's just... it's wrong.'

'So let's stop it.'

They looked at each other and their faces broke out into simultaneous grins.

Jack produced the key cards again and handed one of them to Rose. 'You up to this?'

'Still a bit stiff down the left side, but it's wearing off.'

'You take this floor, I'll do the one above. First inmate I find who's halfway sane, I'll give 'em the third card, they can start on the third floor. The cops think they've got trouble now? Let's show 'em what the word really means!'

FOURTEEN.

It was back. The same monster, at the foot of her bed again. Kimmi knew all too well its fierce red eyes and its big black mouth and the tufts of blue hair that sprouted from its bottom lip. She had backed away from it as far as she could, to where the bed met the wall at the pillow end. She was scrunched into the corner, sobbing, terrified that the monster would drag her back to that place.

Then it sprang for her, and she screamed and woke, sitting bolt upright in her bed.

She was cold with sweat, her heart racing, and she wanted to cry. She hadn't had the dream for so long but no matter how many times she told herself she was over it, how many pills she took, it always returned. Always as real as the first time. And in that dream, she was no longer the confident and respected Inspector Waller, the ident.i.ty she had built for herself she was helpless little Kimmi Waller again.

The Doctor. It was his fault. He had wormed his way through her protective sh.e.l.l to expose the frightened child beneath.

All she could do was try not to think about it.

It was late afternoon. A few more hours before she went back on duty. She had been on late shift for as long as she could remember, ever since she'd joined up. She liked it that way. She preferred to go to sleep, and to wake, with daylight in her eyes and the sound of traffic in her ears. During the day, she could hear people talking on the street and moving in the flats to each side of hers, and above and below. During the day, she didn't feel so lonely.

It was harder to keep out the dream at night.

She fixed herself a light snack from a recipe she had found in a magazine. She pottered about the flat she had decorated alone to an approved colour scheme. She ignored the snuffling of the monster in the bedroom, because she knew it was fictional. She did a bit of cleaning, just killing time, keeping herself busy.

She was needed more during the night. It was during the night that other people had bad dreams.

Her newspaper arrived at about half past five and she was shocked to discover how much the world had changed in her short absence.

The newsreader on 8 News didn't know which incident to report first. Her delivery was breathless, her eyes wide and staring, and it was clear to Waller that she was on the verge of going fantasy crazy herself.

There had been rioting, looting, thefts, even a couple of murders. The newsreader was at pains to point out that the outbreaks were isolated, that most of the streets were still safe but she was obliged to confess that such an explosion of crime was unprecedented.

Waller knew immediately who was to blame.

d.a.m.n Steel! He had to be stretched to the limit why hadn't he called her? So what if the law said she had to have a minimum of eight hours between shifts?

She grimaced and chased the thought away. The law was factual. To break it was tantamount to lying; like saying the law wasn't right, that it wasn't there for everybody's protection.

And yet, still...

Her black helmet stared at her from its perch on the back of a chair, like the blank face of a stranger. Like the person she became when she wore it.

There was a burglary in progress in Sector NineTwoDeltaOne. In Sector FourOneBeta, there had been a rash of graffiti. In Sector FiveSevenGammaFive, some sociopath was pushing custard pies into people's faces and running away.

The newsreaders on every channel agreed. It was Hal Gryden's fault.

Waller thought long and hard before, slowly, almost in a trance, she knelt in front of her TV screen. She flipped open the concealed panel in the wall beside it and reached for the tuning controls. Know your enemy, she thought. It may be dangerous, but at least it would be the truth.

She found it in seconds. Static. She knew Hal Gryden's face, even though she had never seen it before. Dark eyes, bald head, a scar running the length of one cheek, every inch the villain. Just as she had always imagined him.

He was ranting in a voice that cut through Waller like a blade of ice: time has come at last, my loyal, brainwashed disciples. Time to rise up against authority, to drag this world down into chaos. Forget the rights of the many it's time to exercise your rights. Time to follow your dreams, even if it means war!

She stabbed at the 'off' switch with a shudder, fearing that if she heard any more she'd be dragged back into that madness.

She had crossed the room before she knew it, started pulling on her uniform, feeling the weight of the micromotors beneath the black mesh. She checked the power pack in her gun, thumbed on the vidcom on her wrist and hesitated.

The blank helmet seemed to be mocking her, as if it had always known she would give in. But the vidcom was picking up random messages from cops across the sector.

' too many of them '

' can't hold the line '

' crazy out here '

' need urgent backup '

And her choice was made.

She picked up her bike from the parking garage and lowered the helmet onto her head, becoming that person again. She slapped the vidcom into its slot on the dashboard and it flared into life almost immediately.

'Waller,' said Steel, his features grim but rea.s.suring as always. 'We need you.'