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‘Oh –’ said Roz.

‘Shit!’ said Roz, sitting up suddenly behind the sofa.

Chris pulled himself to his knees. ‘Get the crukking lights!’

shouted someone. Chris could see their outline in the doorway, pushing past the other two on the way to the light switch.

For an instant, the lights came back on. The psis blinked at Roz and Chris. Roz and Chris blinked at the psis.

Then Chris reached out through puterspace and switched the lights back off.

‘Let’s go!’ he shouted, vaulting the sofa. He threw his elbows up in front of his face and ran through the shouting psis, sending them flying.

Chris felt the psis’ minds snatching at them as they ran for it.

Oh no, you don’t, said FLORANCE, somewhere in the back of his mind. Her communication was like champagne bubbles, making him want to giggle even as he belted down the marble corridor.

He felt FLORANCE slap at the psis, felt their cold touch recoil away from him like a snapped rubber band. Roz passed him, leading the way as they ran.

Chris reached back and slammed down a blast door, almost squashing one of the psis. He watched through a securicam as the man skidded to a halt, colliding with the door.

‘Woo hoo!’ shouted Chris, as they ran into the foyer, hearing his voice echo back from everywhere. He could feel the whole building!

‘Don’t get too carried away,’ panted Roz, running in behind him. ‘You’re better with this computer stuff – which way do we go?’

Private shuttle bay, said FLORANCE.

‘Private shuttle bay,’ said Chris. ‘She’ll help us get through.’

‘I’ve always wondered,’ said Chris, as the shuttle headed for the great black yonder, ‘why it was a bat out of hell.’

197

Roz just hung on to the table, her jaw set. At this speed the shuttle’s inertial dampeners were straining to compensate for the acceleration.

‘I mean, I guess the idea is that the bat is in a hurry because it’s cooking.’

The shuttle hit the top of its steep parabola. Roz’s stomach protested in no uncertain terms for a moment. Then she felt the gentle drop as they started their descent towards Ithaca City.

Chris opened his eyes. He was sitting opposite her with his arms folded. ‘FLORANCE is flying it now,’ he said. ‘She says that maintaining the link is a bit much.’

‘Did she happen to mention whether there was any sign of pursuit? Any missiles, that sort of thing?’

‘We’re clear. They don’t even know we’ve gone. I mean, they don’t know that the shuttle is gone. So long as they don’t think to look out a window.’

‘What’s our ETA?’

‘About an hour.’

‘Right, I’m going to grab some shuteye.’ Roz put her feet on the glass table and lay back on the plush seating. ‘Give me a yell when we’ve landed. And try not to play with the controls.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Chris wryly. He pointed at the aft curtain.

‘There’s an actual bed in the back, if you’d prefer.’

‘I wonder if there’s any champagne…’ said Roz. She pulled herself up and headed for the back section.

When she pulled the curtain open, there was a man standing behind it.

It was the man who’d been trailing her on Fury.

There was a split second when he could have shot her. Later she saw in her mind the tip of his electric thrower emerging from his sleeve, ready for the moment she pulled the curtain back. It was only the fact that she opened it from the right side and not the left side that saved her.

She spun and the tip of the toe caught his arm, slamming it upward. He fell backward, landing on his arse in the kitchenette.

The oven door opened, knocking him on the head. ‘Ow,’ he said.

‘How’s that?’ said Chris.

198

‘Oh, stop showing off,’ said Roz, pulling the thrower from the man’s arm. ‘Who are you? Screw that. How the hell did you get in here?’

‘Sorry about that,’ said FLORANCE, in the voice of the food heater. ‘I meant to tell you that I let him in, but things got a little busy.’

‘What?’ said Roz. ‘Who are you working for?’ she demanded.

‘Er,’ said the man. ‘I’m working for your sister.’

Roz couldn’t see Chris’s expression, but she knew it would involve big round eyes and probably an open