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He and Janis joined the general evacuation, ignoring the occasional queer look. The snow had stopped. A few dozen people milled around in slush, waiting to be checked off by their safety marshals. A siren dopplered, approaching.

This time Janis had her jacket. She pulled it around herself and shivered. Kohn was swearing to himself.

She dammed his flood of obscenity. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Demon attack,’ Kohn said. ‘A logic virus that gets at the firmware of the power supply, timed or triggered to produce a nasty electrical fire. Something’s fighting back through the system. Defence mechanisms, all right! Set up like antibodies for just this contingency. Damn. I should’ve thought.’

‘But that’s my work,’ Janis said. She felt she was about to cry. ‘Up in smoke. And all the poor little mice.’

‘Near enough painless,’ Kohn said. ‘And the project’s over, don’t you see? It’s worked. You’ve built the monster. It’s roaming the countryside. That fire probably came from the cranks. High-tech version of the crowd of peasants with torches. What we have to worry about is the mad scientist, whoever that is.’

Janis thought about it as insurance-company firefighters ran past.

‘I thought I was the mad scientist,’ she said.

‘Nah,’ Kohn said. ‘You’re just Ygor.’

She pulled a face, hunched a shoulder.

‘And the monster?’

‘Me,’ he said.

‘I thought you meant this AI of yours.’

‘That too,’ Kohn said. ‘By now it’s probably blundering around in the milieu, the nets, triggering alarms and generally raising hell.’

Janis found herself grinning. ‘I can believe that,’ she said, ‘if it’s picked up anything from your personality.’

‘Still want to go with me?’

‘If you’re going to Norlonto, yes.’

‘No problem,’ he said. ‘That’s where I’m going anyway. It’s where we live. I have our armoured car parked round the back.’

Janis laughed and caught his arm, started him walking.

‘An armoured car? That’s what I like to hear. I’ll stick with you.’

She laughed again, and let her whole weight swing for a second on his arm. It was as if he didn’t notice.

‘There are some men,’ she intoned, ‘that Things were not meant to know.’

5

The Fifth-Colour Country

The armoured car was smaller than Janis had expected, low and angular, its black so matte that it was difficult to get an idea of its exact shape: a Stealth vehicle, she thought. Inside, it looked old. Cables joined with insulating tape hung in multicoloured loops under the instrument casings. The two leather seats at the front were frayed. Two even more worn seats faced each other in the back. What appeared to be windows were wrapped around at head-level in the front, but showed nothing.

Kohn demonstrated how to strap in, and then leaned back in his seat. He reached up and flicked a switch. Nothing happened. He cursed and flicked it again. The wrap-around screens came to life as the car began to move: the effect, uncanny, vulnerable-feeling, was of riding in the open.

The vehicle was waved through the exit gate. The traffic was heavier now on the main road, and as the car slipped through it there were moments when Janis thought it was actually invisible to other drivers. Kohn seemed unperturbed.

They stopped at her flat long enough for Janis to pack a few bags, shake her head sadly over the mess, and leave a note and a credit line for Sonya. Kohn fumed and fidgeted, making a big thing of checking every room and watching from windows. Back in the car, his choice of route baffled her.

‘Why are we stopping?’ Janis felt irritated that she sounded so anxious.

‘Won’t be a minute,’ Kohn said.

He jumped out, leaving the engine running and the gun on the seat with its muzzle pointing out of the door. Janis kept looking around. Gutted houses, boarded shopfronts, incredible numbers of people swarming along the whole street. Braziers glowed; weapons and teeth glinted in the shadows of weird crystalline buildings among ruins.

Kohn returned and dropped a package by her feet. The armoured car moved slowly down the street, avoiding children and animals. Janis looked at the package: white