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'Haven't got a clue.'

'What are the chances that Holmes, Bernice and the Doctor are held captive down there?'

'Don't know.'

'How do you see us proceeding, assuming that we can get to those caravans undetected?'

'You've got me there, squire.'

'It strikes me,' I said, with some asperity, 'that, as plans go, it leaves a lot to be desired.'

'Listen, spunk-brain, if .you've got a better one. . .'

'Any alternative plans I might have rather depend on different things having occurred over the past few hours,' I said placatingly. 'Given the current situation. . .'

'I'll let you into a secret,' Ace said. 'I've been in more sneaky situations than you've had hot dinners, and the best plan is usually not to have one. Any plan you can think up, the enemy can anticipate, and the more complicated it is, the further away they can see it coming. Take it on the fly, and it confuses them.'

'Do you always think in terms of enemies?'

A dark shadow passed behind her eyes.

'Who else is there?' she murmured. Without waiting for an answer, she moved off down the slope. Reluctantly, I followed.

We moved carefully over the icy terrain, the more so because of our globular suits. I kept worrying that they would tear on sharp shards of ice, but they were remarkably resilient. The rakshassi were fussing around with ropes at the front of the caravans, obviously preparing to move, and so we crept around to the back where it was safer. We managed to sneak through the line of caravans to the huge central one without being detected. Close up it was even larger than I had thought. Sheltering beneath it, in the lee of one of is vast metal runners, standing beside one of the parallel gouges in the ice that marked its journey, we debated out next move.

'Whatever is in there is heavy,' I pointed out, indicating the way the floor bowed towards us. 'It might just be a storehouse.'

'I'm going inside anyway,' Ace insisted.

'Why? It's obviously important to them, whatever it is.'

'That's exactly why.'

'I'm not going to risk it!'

'I didn't ask you to.'

True to her word, Ace moved away from me towards the edge of the caravan, where the lip of one of the doors jutted out. Cursing, I followed.

She checked that the coast was clear, and then emerged into the open.

The spherical suit made it difficult for her to swing up to the door, and in the end she reluctantly let me help her up. Somehow I managed to scramble up beside her without bursting my own bubble. The incised sides of the caravan loomed above us. It must have been some ten or twelve yards high.

Ace examined the edges of the door.

'It's an airlock,' she announced.

'A what?'

'It keeps the air in. Look at the seals. There must be another one, just inside. Fair enough, unless they've got a pump or something they'll lose whatever air is trapped between the doors, but I guess that doesn't worry them. They can probably replenish it. Shall we go?'

'Are you sure about this?'

'Does the Pope wear a funny hat?'

'Not the last time I saw him,' I replied. She grinned at me, shedding a lot of years as she did so. I smiled back.

She pushed at the door. It opened easily, giving us access to a chamber about the size of a large wardrobe. I closed it behind us, and noticed that it pressed against a door-seal which was made of some material like guttapercha. There was a door ahead. Judging by the hinges, it opened away from us. It too had a rubbery seal. Ace pushed against it, but it resisted her.

'Air pressure,' she grunted. 'Give us a hand.'

I added my weight to hers. For a moment nothing happened, then a crack appeared between the door and the seal. A sudden hiss made me jump.

My bubble misted up and began to wrinkle.

'Pressure's equalizing,' Ace said. Her envelope was also sagging. She pushed the door fully open.

I did not know what to expect when I entered that foul, awful place. My mind could have conjured up a myriad possibilities, but never, never in a million years, could it have hit upon what I actually saw.

The