For future reference, put the detox program into primary mode before you fall asleep. Please!

“What?” she croaked.

“Oh come on, Louise, I’ve been up simply hours.”

“Oh God.” Sluggish thoughts designated too-bright neuroiconic symbols, and her neural nanonics datavised a string of instructions to her medical package. It began to adjust her blood chemistry, filtering out the residue of toxicants. “I need the loo,” she mumbled.

“When did you get that nightie?” Gen shouted after her as she tottered towards the en suite bathroom. Fortunately there was a big towelling robe hanging up on the inside of the door. She was able to cover up the first-night-of-the-honeymoon garment before she went back to confront Gen. Her head was a lot clearer thanks to the package’s ministrations, though her body hadn’t caught up yet.

“Divinia loaned it to me,” she said quickly, forestalling any more questions.

Gen’s smile was wretchedly smug; she fell back on the bed, hands behind her head. “You’ve got a hangover, haven’t you?”

“Devil child.”

The breakfast room had a long table of big silver warmers containing a considerable variety of food. Louise went along lifting up each lid. She didn’t recognize half of the items. In the end she settled for her usual of corn chips followed by scrambled eggs. One of the maids fetched her a pot of fresh tea.

Divinia and Charlie arrived just after Louise started to eat. He gave Louise a modest little smile, conveying a tinge of regret. That was the only reference ever made to the invitation.

He ruffled Genevieve’s hair as he sat with them, earning himself a disapproving look.

“So when do we leave?” Louise asked.

“I’m not sure,” Charlie said. “I’m keeping an eye on developments. New York and London are the critical places to watch right now. It looks like New York is going to fall within a week. The inhabitants can only keep resisting the possessed for so long. And they’re losing ground.”

“What’ll happen if the possessed take over?”

“That’s when life becomes really unpleasant. I’m afraid our dear president has woken up to what that many possessed are capable of. He’s scared they’ll try to take the Earth out of this universe. That gives him two options. He can fire the SD electron beams in a circle around the arcology, and hope they’ll do a Ketton and just take themselves and a big chunk of landscape out of here. If not, it’s a very stark choice; we either go with them, or the SD weapons are focused on the arcology itself.”

“Kill them?” Gen asked in fright.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Will he really do that? A whole arcology.”

“I doubt he has the courage to make that kind of decision. He’ll consult the senate in an attempt to get them to take the blame, but they’ll just give him the authority and pass the buck right back at him without committing themselves. If he does give the order to hit the arcology, then obviously B7 will stop the SD network from actually firing. I’m of the opinion we should let the possessed remove Earth. It’s a cold equation, but that outcome causes the least harm in the long term. One day we’ll learn how to bring it back.”

“You really think that’s possible?” Louise asked.

“If a planet can be moved out of the universe, it can be returned. Don’t ask me for a timetable.”

“So what about London?”

“That’s more difficult. As I told my colleagues, if Dexter gains control of enough possessed he’ll be able to dictate his own agenda to everyone, possessed and non-possessed alike. If that becomes the case, we might have to use the SD weapons to kill the possessed he commands to take that power away from him.”

Louise lost all interest in her food. “How many people?”

“SD weapons have a large target footprint. There’s going to be a lot of innocent bystanders caught. An awful lot,” he said significantly. “There are thousands of possessed that have to be targeted.”

“You can’t. Charlie, you can’t.”

“I know. B7 is actually considering if we should actively help the New York possessed to take over that arcology. If they do so before Quinn expands his power base, then Earth will be taken out of this universe before he can menace it.”

“Oh sweet Jesus. That’s just as bad.”

“Yeah,” he said bitterly. “Who wants to rule the world when it means making those kind of choices. And they do have to be made, unfortunately; we can’t jump ship now.”

After the mild euphoria of yesterday, when they’d finally reached a genuine safe haven, however unorthodox, Charlie’s news left the sisters despondent again. They spent the morning in the drawing room, watching a big AV projection pillar to find out what was happening.

At first they switched between London’s news shows, then Louise found the house’s processors allowed her to access the security sensors studding the Westminster Dome’s geodesic framework. She was also able to superimpose the police tactical display grid over their peerless view of the streets and parks. They could follow events in real time, without the intrusive commentary and speculation from reporters. Not that there was much to see. An occasional running figure. Pulses of bright white light flaring behind closed windows. Police cars converging on a building, heavily armed officers moving inside. Sometimes they came out, hauling possessed off to zero-tau pods. Sometimes they didn’t, leaving a circle of empty cars blocking off the surrounding streets, their strobe lights flashing red and blue in futile distress. Local council offices and precinct stations would burst into flames without warning. No fire appliances came to their rescue. When the government facility concerned had been consumed, the flames mysteriously died away, leaving a blackened husk of crumbling masonry trapped between two unblemished buildings.

Reports from dwindling police patrols and the AI’s monitor programs indicated that small bands of the possessed were moving round by using the tube lines and utility service tunnels. As they infiltrated themselves across the arcology, electrical supplies failed in several districts. Then corresponding sections of the communication net went dead. More and more street-level cameras were targeted, showing a snatched glance of impacting white fire before dying. Rover reporters began to go off-air in mid-sensevise. Police datavises also fell, faster than possessed assaults against them could statistically account for. GISD estimated the desertion rate to be reaching forty per cent.

There was still a curfew operating across London, but Govcentral was no longer enforcing it.

Servitor chimps ambled into the drawing room around mid-morning and began packing away the ancient silverware and vases. Their preparations emphasised how desperate the situation was becoming, despite the physical distance between the house and London.

Louise caught sight of Charlie through one of the open patio doors; he was taking his two Labradors for a walk across the lawn. She and Gen hurried out after him.

He stopped at a gate in the row of yew trees, waiting for them to catch up. “I just wanted to give the dogs one last walk,” he said. “We’ll probably leave tomorrow morning. You’ll have to start packing again, I’m afraid.”

Gen knelt down and stroked the golden Labrador. “You’re not leaving them here, are you?”

“No. They’ll be put in zero-tau; I’m definitely taking them with me. And a great deal more, of course. I’ve spent centuries building up my little collection of knickknacks. One does become dreadfully sentimental about the stupidest things. I own four domes like this in various parts of the world, each with a different climate. There’s a lot of occupation invested in them. Still, look on the bright side, I can literally take the memories with me.”

“Where are you going to go?” Louise asked.

“I’m not sure, to be honest,” Charlie said. “I’ll need a developed world as a base if I want to retain control of my industrial assets. Kulu is hardly going to welcome me, the Saldanas are very territorial. New Washington, possibly, I have influence there. Or I might germinate an independent habitat somewhere.”