It was sweltering in the hall, as humid and heavy as a rainforest.The condensed heat of the dancers enveloped him. He pulled off hisshirt. Oily dirt coated him. He realized that it was weeks since hehad seen his own body. The shirt had become his fur.

He remembered the touch of the rat above, and he reached up towedge one sleeve of his shirt under the open trapdoor’s hinge. Hepulled at the other sleeve until it was stretched taut, tied it tothe railing which enclosed the walkway. Almost immediately, two ratsscurried along this greasy canvas bridge and leapt onto the iron.

Others would be joining them, thought Saul as he watched them raceaway along the rampart, finding their way down.

Sweat trickled down his body, cutting channels in the grime whichcovered him. He felt no shame. His standards had changed.

Saul flattened himself against the wall and crept forward towardsthe decks, keeping his eyes fixed on the stage below him. He loweredhimself as he advanced. By the time he had covered half the length ofthe wall, he was slithering along the cold iron like a snake. Hepushed his face to the gaps in the grille, his eyes darting urgentlyfrom side to side. He crawled slowly forward.

Even through the pervasive clouds of cologne and sweat and drugsand sex, Saul could taste rat. The troops were arriving in force,waiting for his signal.

He glanced up. Anansi flickered in and out of existence in thequickfiring lights.

A door opened at the back of the stage.

Saul stiffened. Natasha emerged from the depths of the building,into the sound and fury. Saul caught his breath. He gripped thegrille on which he crawled until his fingers hurt. She lookedbreathtaking. But she was thin, much too thin, and she moved as ifshe was in a dream.

Where was the Piper? Was she here of her free will? Saul stared ather in consternation. He saw headphones on her ears and wasmomentarily confused how could she listen to a walkman in the middleof a club? — before he understood. He caught his breath, watching herbob her head, moving to a different rhythm from the rest of thedancers. He knew what she was listening to, he knew whose music itwas.

In one hand she held a case full of records, in the other a squatbox, some piece of electronics, trailing wires. He could not see whatit was. Natasha tapped the DJ on the shoulder. He turned and touchedfists with her, shouting animatedly into her ears. As he spoke shebusied herself plugging the box into the sound system, noddingoccasionally, whether in answer or in response to the music in herears Saul could not tell.

The DJ removed his huge earphones and placed them over Natasha’sears, hesitating for her to remove her small walkman earpieces. Whenshe did not, he shrugged and placed the larger ones over the top ofthem and laughed. He disappeared into the door from which Natasha hademerged.

Natasha rifled through the records she had brought, pulledsomething out, twirled it elegantly and blew dust from it. She placedit on the turntable and hunched over, spinning it, smoothing it backwith her fingers, listening through the tune on her walkman, mixingthe beats, until she stood straight, with her fingers poised, and leta burst of piano spill over from the twelve-inch she had selectedinto the tune now coming to an end.

It was impossible to tell where one started and the other ended,the mixing was seamless. She pulled the record back, let it forwardagain a little, pulled it back, scratching playfully like an oldschool rapper, finally releasing her hand and switching off the firsttune in a smooth movement, unleashing the new bassline.

She stood back without a trace of a smile on her lips.

Saul knew that he had to get down to her, had to take the phonesfrom her head and make her understand the danger she was in. But thismust be exactly what the Piper had in mind for him. The cheese in histrap.

The door opened again and two more figures appeared. The first wasFabian. Saul was appalled, nearly leapt to his feet. Fabian was evenmore emaciated and exhausted-looking than Natasha. His finery couldnot disguise that. He was limping. Like Natasha, he wore walkmanheadphones. It was that beat, the tune that only he could hear, thatpropelled Fabian forward.

Behind him was the Piper.

As he entered the room he stopped, breathed in deeply, gave a hugesmile. He spread his arms wide as if he would embrace all the dancersbelow him.

Fabian stayed very close to him.

Saul looked up at Anansi. He was oscillating on his rope, hissudden tension communicated violently through his body.

Rush him?

Should we rush him? thought Saul frantically.

What is to be done?

Anansi and Saul were paralysed, caught in the gaze of a snake. Andthe Piper could not even see them.

Natasha turned and saw her two companions. She held out her handand the Piper pulled something out of his pocket, tossed it acrossthe stage to her. As it curved through the air it was transfixed fora moment in a beam of white light. It seemed to freeze, letting Saulexamine it at his leisure. It glinted, a small plastic case, like acassette but smaller, squarer…

A DAT.

A Digital Audio Tape. Natasha used them to record her tracks.

He screamed and leapt to his feet as Natasha’s hand closed aroundthe tape.

The cavernous space was full of sound, there was no room for hispaltry screech. He could not even hear it himself in the cacophony ofbeats and basslines. The dancers danced on, unperturbed, Natashaturned towards the decks, Fabian continued his shambling littlerotations… but the Piper turned his head sharply at theimperceptible sound, stared up, through the cat’s cradle of lightbeams, past the too-cool bodies on the lower walkway, up into theshadow of the roof, gazing directly into Saul’s eyes.

The Piper gave a jaunty wave, and grinned. He was burning withtriumphalism.

Saul propelled himself along the gantry while the Piper laughed onthe stage. The dancers were oblivious. The beats seemed to slow down,everything was slow, Saul could see the mass of bodies below him sinkand rise ponderously.

He pounded along the iron towards the corner where Anansi hung,paralysed. He stared through the floor at Natasha walking slowlytowards the DAT player she had plugged in, reaching out with the handholding the tape. Saul looked up as he drew near Anansi, who swungfrom side to side, around and around, a useless pendulum.

Saul had not stopped shouting. He was ululating appallingly as heran. Anansi looked up at him. As Natasha slipped the tape into thedeck and crooked one of the headphones against her shoulder, Saulgrabbed the rail with his left hand and vaulted up high, moving soslowly he could stare at the faces below him, all the individualsthat made up the bouncing mass. He brought his feet down together onthe railing, bent down and leapt out, sending himself through theair, flying above the dancers like a superhero.

Anansi’s eyes widened as Saul surged towards him, his armsflailing, legs tucked up in front of him like a long-jumper. Saulspread his arms and legs wide, and crashed into Anansi forty feetabove the stage.

He clutched at Anansi, hugged himself to him. He felt himselflurching crazily back and forth through the air, heard Anansi yellingsomething at him. The rope holding the two bodies was vibrating,dangerously taut. Saul was screaming into Anansi’s ears.

‘Down!’ he screamed. ‘Go down now!’

Saul felt himself drop and his stomach lurched. His descentsmoothened out as Anansi manipulated the fibres in his hand. Smootherthan any abseiler, the spider-man and his cargo sank swiftly towardsthe stage.

As they plummeted, Saul and Anansi spun around their centre ofgravity, and the room whirled around them. Saul caught glimpse afterglimpse of the dancers, frozen, gazing at the men dropping out of theair. Some looked aghast or confused, but most were laughing, enraptat this new entertainment.