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Another processor had been disconnected. What was going on –

and where was Megan? Hadn’t she killed the girl yet?

Ace was disappointed at the camp. She’d expected something bigger, something a bit more Lawrence of Arabia: big tents with awnings, tables with charts and maps. Maybe a couple of camels.

Instead, there was a raggy-looking orange tent and awning, the blackened remains of a small fire and a pile of cooking utensils, battered and in need of a good clean.

‘Not much to look at, is it?’ said Alexander, reading her thoughts. He unzipped the tent, ducked inside and came back out with a half empty bottle of whisky and two tin mugs.

‘Now that’s more like it!’ she said.

The two of them hunkered down on the grass as Alexander poured out a couple of generous measures. She gazed around, realising how starkly appealing the, island was. Apart from the ever-present wind roaring in her ears, it was so peaceful, so...

untainted. Graystairs and the spaceship seemed a hundred miles away.

‘Hi,’ she heard Alexander say suddenly, and turned to see an elderly couple coming round the side of the camp. Plodding at their feet was a rather old and tired-looking black terrier. It sniffed at the corner of the tent, and Ace half expected it to cock its leg.

‘Hello,’ said the woman in a sharp, precise voice, wind blowing at her mussed-up brown hair. She wore a surprisingly new-looking green jacket; a thick tweed skirt and ultra-sensible brown walking boots. Her face, like that of her husband, was flabby and pale; and her accent was softly Scottish, with a strange, musical lilt to it. There was something vaguely familiar about them, Ace thought, but maybe it was just that they were a typical middle-aged tweedy couple. They looked miserable and uninterested, surveying the campsite almost disdainfully before looking back at Alexander.

‘We were walking around the island,’ the woman said, turning her head sharply to stare at Ace. ‘And an enquiry as to the progress of your survey seemed appropriate.’

Alexander pulled a face and shrugged. ‘A few technical problems, he said lamely. ‘Should be sorted soon.’

Ace watched the couple. They were definitely odd – their eyes didn’t quite match their facial movements or their words.

And their speech patterns were strangely clipped and precise, yet clumsy. As if they’d learned English from a bad school textbook.

As she stared at them, the man caught her gaze and smiled – but just a moment later than he should have done, like he hadn’t quite grasped what smiling was all about, and had to make a deliberate effort. The dog came snuffling around her and she reached out to stroke its head. It pulled away and stared at her and its big, bizarrely blue eyes held on hers far longer than felt natural. Ace took another swig from her cup and watched the couple staring out to sea. It was as if they’d suddenly stopped finding Alexander and her interesting. Or important.

‘Nothing has been discovered out there, then? Nothing unusual,’ the man said abruptly, switching his gaze back to Alexandra

‘Oh, just a –’

‘– a few fish,’ Ace cut in sharply with an overly cheery smile.

‘You know the sort of thing – a couple of sharks, dolphins. The usual. We saw two, er, what are they called Alexander? A couple of sea horses, riding around on the waves.’

Alexander looked at her as if she’d gone mad. Just go with me on this. Ace thought. Just go with me, Alexander.

Alexander smiled at the couple and nodded, although he looked more like he wanted to ask for help in escaping from the madwoman at his side.

‘Fine, fine,’ the woman said, taking a deep breath. ‘Your friend does not appear familiar to us. Is her arrival recent?’ She stared at Ace, her eyes cold and piercing.

‘Problems with my boat,’ Ace said hurriedly. ‘It sank.’

‘No doubt you will recover.’

Ace nodded, trying not to catch Alexander’s eye. The dog had rejoined its owners, standing like a sooty sentinel between them. It looked from her to Alexander and back again.

‘We should continue our walk,