Lemuel stared at him, his face immobile. Slowly and ostentatiously, he pulled a snuff-box from his pocket and took a sniff. Isaac’s fists clenched and unclenched.

“Fine, ‘Zaac,” Lemuel said quietly, replacing his little jewelled box. He nodded slowly. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll be in touch. But I’m not a charity, Isaac, I’m a businessman and you’re a customer. I get something for this. I’ll bill you, all right?”

Isaac nodded wearily. There was no rancour in Lemuel’s voice, no viciousness, no spite. He was simply stating the truth that underlay his bonhomie. Isaac knew that if it paid better not to uncover the purveyor of the peculiar grub, Lemuel would simply do that.

“Mayor.” Eliza Stem-Fulcher swaggered into the Lemquist Room. Rudgutter looked up at her questioningly. She threw a thin newspaper onto the table before him. “We’ve got a lead.”

Teafortwo left quickly when he woke, with David and Isaac trying to reassure him that no one held him responsible. By the evening, a horrible kind of drab calm had arrived at the warehouse on Paddler Way.

David was spooning a thick compote of fruit puree into Lublamai’s mouth, massaging it down his throat. Isaac was pacing listlessly across the floor. He was hoping that Lin would return home, find the note he had pinned on her door last night and come to him. If it had not been in his writing, he reflected, she would have thought it was a bad joke. To have Isaac invite her to his laboratory-house was unprecedented. But he needed to see her, and he was worried that if he left, he would miss some vital change in Lublamai, or some nugget of indispensable information.

The door was pushed open. Isaac and David looked up sharply.

It was Yagharek.

Isaac was momentarily amazed. This was the first time Yagharek had appeared while David (and Lublamai, of course, although it hardly counted) were in the room. David gazed at the garuda huddling under the dirty blanket, the sweep of the false wings.

“Yag, old son,” said Isaac heavily. “Come in, meet David…We’ve had a bit of a disaster…” He trudged heavily towards the door.

Yagharek waited for him, hovering half in, half out of the entrance. He said nothing until Isaac was close enough to hear him whisper, a strange thin noise like a bird being strangled.

“I would not have come, Grimnebulin. I do not wish to be seen…”

Isaac lost patience quickly. He opened his mouth to speak but Yagharek continued.

“I have…heard things. I have sensed…there is a pall over this house. Neither you, nor either of your friends, has left this room all day.”

Isaac gave a short laugh.

“You’ve been waiting, haven’t you? Waiting till it was all clear, right? So you could maintain your precious anonymity…” He tensed, made an effort to calm himself. “Look, Yag, we’ve had something of a disaster and I really don’t have time or inclination to…to pussyfoot about you. I’m afraid our project’s on hold for a while…”

Yagharek sucked in his breath and cried out, faintly.

“You cannot,” he screeched quietly. “You cannot desert me…”

“Damn!” Isaac reached out and pulled Yagharek in through the door. “Now look!” He marched over to where Lublamai breathed raggedly and gazed and dribbled. He pushed Yagharek before him. He shoved hard, but not with violent pressure. Garuda were wiry and tight-muscled, stronger than they looked, but with their hollow bones and pared-down flesh they were not a match for a big man. But that was not the main reason why Isaac was holding back from exerting himself. The mood between him and Yagharek was testy, not poisonous. Isaac sensed that Yagharek half wanted to see the reason for the sudden tension in the warehouse, even if it meant breaking his ban on being seen by others.

Isaac pointed at Lublamai. David stared vaguely up at the garuda. Yagharek completely ignored him.

“The fucking caterpillar I showed you,” said Isaac, “turned into something that did this to my friend. Ever seen anything like that?”

Yagharek shook his head slowly.

“So you see,” said Isaac heavily, “I’m afraid that until I sort out what in the name of Jabber’s arse I’ve let loose over the city, and until I’ve brought Lublamai back from wherever he is, I’m afraid that the problems of flight and crisis engines, exciting as they are, are on something of a low burn for me.”

“You will let slip my shame…” hissed Yagharek quickly. Isaac interrupted him.

“David knows about your so-called shame, Yag!” he shouted. “And don’t look at me like that, that’s how I work, this is my colleague, that’s how come I’ve made fucking progress in your case…”

David was looking sharply at Isaac.

“What?” he hissed. “Crisis engines…?”

Isaac shook his head irritatedly, as if a mosquito was in his ear.

“Making headway in crisis physics, that’s all. Tell you later.”

David nodded slowly, accepting that now was not the time to discuss this, but his bulging eyes betrayed his amazement. That’s all? they said.

Yagharek seemed to be twitching with nervousness, with a great bulge of misery that washed up through him.

“I…I need your help…” he began.

“Yeah, as does Lublamai here,” shouted Isaac, “and I’m afraid that counts for a damn sight more…” Then he softened slowly. “I’m not dropping you, Yag. I’ve no intention of doing that. But the thing is, I can’t carry on just now.” Isaac thought for a moment. “If you want to get this done as quick as possible, you could help…Don’t just fucking disappear. Stay the fuck here and help us sort this out. That way, we can get back, sharpish, to your problem.”

David looked askance at Isaac. Now his eyes said, Do you know what you’re doing? Seeing that, Isaac blustered, and rallied.

“You can sleep here, you can eat here…David won’t care, he doesn’t even live here, I’m the only one that does. Then when we hear anything, we can…well, we can maybe think of some use for you. If you know what I mean. You can help, Yagharek. That’d be damn useful. The quicker this gets sorted, the quicker we’re back on your programme. Understand?”

Yagharek was subdued. It took some minutes before he would speak, and then all he would do was nod and briefly say that yes, he would stay at the warehouse. It was clear that all he could think of was the research into flight. Isaac was exasperated, but forgiving. The excision, the punishment that had befallen Yagharek, had settled on his soul like lead chains. He was selfish, utterly, but he had some reason.

David fell asleep, exhausted and miserable. He slept in his chair that night. Isaac took over caring for Lublamai. The food had passed through him, and the first noisome duty was to clean up his shit.

Isaac bundled up the fouled clothes and shoved them into one of the warehouse’s boilers. He thought of Lin. He hoped she came to him soon.

He realized he was pining.