“What these people need is some kind of purpose. Mortonridge is falling apart. There’s no food left, no electricity, nobody knows what to do. With authority comes responsibility. Unless you’re just a bandit queen, of course. If you’re a real leader, you should apply your leadership skills where they’ll do the most good. You made a start, you kept the communications net working, you gave most towns a council of sorts. You should have built on that.”

Annette Ekelund grinned. “What exactly were you before? They told me you were just a housewife.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Stephanie said, impatient with the whole charade. “Will you let us through?”

“If I didn’t, you’d only find another way. Of course you can go through. We even have a few children scooting around the town that you can take with you. See? I’m not a complete monster.”

“The buses need recharging first.”

“Naturally.” Ekelund sighed. She beckoned to one of the tank guards. “Dane will show you where a working power point is. Please don’t ask us for any food, I haven’t got enough to spare. I’m having trouble supplying my own troops as it is.”

Stephanie looked at the tanks; if she concentrated hard she could make out the fantasm shapes of the farm tractor mechanoids behind the armour. “What are you and your army doing here?”

“I would have thought that was obvious. I’ve taken that responsibility you prize so highly. I’m protecting Mortonridge for you. We’re only thirty kilometres from the firebreak they slashed across the top of the ridge; and on the other side, the Saldana Princess is preparing. They’re not going to leave us alone, Stephanie Ash. They hate us and they fear us. It’s a nasty combination. So while you go gallivanting around doing your good deeds, just remember who’s holding back the barbarians.” She started back for the tanks, then paused. “You know, one day you’re really going to have to decide where your loyalties lie. You said you’d fight to stop them throwing you back; well if you do, it’ll be at my side.”

“Ho wow, one iron-assed lady,” Cochrane muttered.

“Definitely,” Stephanie agreed.

Dane climbed into the Karmic Crusader with Cochrane and showed them the way to a line of warehouses which served the wharf. Their long roofs were all made from solar collector panels. When the buses were plugged in, Stephanie called her people together and told them what Ekelund had said.

“If any of you want to wait here while the buses go to the firebreak, I’ll understand,” she said. “The Kingdom military might get nervous about four large vehicles heading towards them.”

“They won’t shoot us out of hand,” McPhee said. “Not as long as we don’t cross the line. They’ll be curious.”

“Do you think so?” Tina said anxiously. A large lace hankie was pressed to her lips.

“I’ve been there,” Dane said. “It was a scout mission. I watched them watching me. They won’t start any trouble. Like your friend said, they’ll be curious.”

“We’re almost there.” Stephanie’s fixed smile betrayed her nerves. “Just a few more hours, that’s all.” She glanced back at the buses, putting on a cheerful expression as she waved at the children pressed up against the windows. They had all picked up on the gloomy aura of the darkened clouds overhead. “McPhee, Franklin; give me a hand with them will you. We’ll let them stretch their legs here and use a toilet.”

“Sure.”

Stephanie let Moyo hold her for a moment. He planted a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t give up now.”

She smiled shyly. “I won’t. Can you take a look in the warehouses for me, see if you can find some working toilets. If not, we’ll have to make do with tissues and the river.”

“I’ll go check.”

The big sliding doors of the closest warehouse were open. It was used to store tubing, row after row of floor-to-ceiling stacks. All its lights were off, but there was enough pink-tinged sunlight coming through the doors for him to see by. He started checking around for an office.

Silent forklift mechanoids were standing in the aisles, holding up bundles of tubing that had been destined for urgent delivery. It wouldn’t take much effort to start them up again, he thought. But what would be the point? Did a society of possessed need factories and farms? Some infrastructure was necessary, yes, but how much and of what kind? Something simple and efficient, and extremely long-lasting. He was quietly glad that kind of decision wasn’t his.

A pyramid of tubing shielded the man from Moyo’s perception. So he convinced himself later. Whatever the reason, he didn’t notice him until he had rounded a corner and was barely five metres away. And he wasn’t a possessed. Moyo knew his own kind, the internal glimmer of cells excited by the energistic overspill. This man’s biolectric currents were almost black, while his thoughts were fast and quiet. He was excessively ordinary in appearance; wearing pale green trousers, a check shirt, and a sleeveless jacket with DataAxis printed on its left breast pocket.

Moyo was chilled by a rush of panic. Any non-possessed creeping around here had to be a spy, which meant he’d be armed, most likely with something potent enough to terminate a possessed with minimum fuss.

White fire punched out of Moyo’s palm, an instinctive response.

The seething streamer splashed against the man’s face and flowed around him to strike the tubing behind him. Moyo grunted in disbelief. The man simply stood there as if it were water pouring over him.

The white fire dimmed, its remnants retreating into Moyo’s hand. He whimpered, expecting the worst. I’m going to be blown back into the beyond. They’ve found a way of neutralizing our energistic power. We’ve lost. There’s only the beyond now. For always.

He closed his eyes. Thinking with fond longing: Stephanie.

Nothing happened. He opened his eyes again. The man was looking at him with a mildly embarrassed expression. Behind him, molten metal was dribbling down the side of the stacked tubing.

“Who are you?” Moyo asked hoarsely.

“My name’s Hugh Rosler. I used to live in Exnall.”

“Did you follow us here?”

“No. Although I did watch your bus leave Exnall. It’s just coincidence I’m here now.”

“Right,” Moyo said carefully. “You’re not a spy then?”

The question was one which Rosler apparently found quite amusing. “Not for the Kulu Kingdom, no.”

“So how come the white fire didn’t affect you?”

“I have a built-in resistance. It was thought we should have some protection when this time came around. And the reality dysfunction ability has proved inordinately useful over the years. I’ve been in a few tight corners in my time; completely inadvertently I might add. I’m not supposed to be obtrusive.”

“Then you are an agent. Who do you work for?”

“Agent implies an active role. I only observe, I’m not part of any faction.”

“Faction?”

“The Kingdom. The Confederation. Adamists. Edenists. The possessed. Factions.”

“Uh huh. Are you going to shoot me, then, or something?”

“Good heavens no. I told you, I’m here purely on observation duty.”

What was being said, apparently in all sincerity, wasn’t helping to calm Moyo at all. “For which faction?”

“Ah. That’s classified, I’m afraid. Technically, I shouldn’t even be telling you this much. But circumstances have changed since my mission began. These things aren’t quite so important today. I’m just trying to put you at ease.”

“It’s not working.”

“You really do have nothing to fear from me.”

“You’re not human, are you?”

“I’m ninety-nine per cent human. That’s good enough to qualify, surely?”

Moyo thought he would have preferred it if Hugh Rosler had launched into an indignant denial. “What’s the one per cent?”

“Sorry. Classified.”

“Xenoc? Is that it? Some unknown race? We always had rumours of pre-technology contact, men being taken away to breed.”