They stopped just short of the edge.

Crowe stared at him. 'Are you OK?' she asked hoarsely.

'Never better.'

She rolled off him, tried to stand up, then pulled a face and slumped down.

'No go,' she said.

Anawak jumped up. 'What's wrong?'

'My right foot.'

He knelt down next to her and felt her ankle.

Crowe groaned. 'I think it's broken.'

Anawak paused. Had he imagined it or was the ship tipping forward?

The platform squealed.

'Put your arm round my neck.'

He helped Crowe to her feet. She could hobble along beside him at least. They made their way awkwardly into the hangar. They could barely see what was in front of them. And the deck was even steeper than before.

How the hell are we going to get down the ramp? thought Anawak. It must be like a precipice now.

Suddenly he was filled with rage.

They were in the Greenland Sea, in the Arctic, his territory. He was an Inuk through and through. He'd been born in the Arctic, and he belonged there. But he wasn't going to die there, and neither was Crowe.

'Come on,' he said. 'Let's get moving.'

Deepflight 3

Li ran to the control desk. She'd wasted too much time. She should never have allowed herself to be dragged into such a ridiculous discussion.

She raised the Deepflight, then swung it over the jetty until it was hanging directly above her. She immediately spotted the two empty tubes. The larger torpedoes were in their usual position, but the smaller ones had been dismounted to make way for the radioactive cylinders. Excellent. With weapons like these, the Deepflight was handsomely armed.

Quickly she pushed the cylinders into the tubes and locked them into place. The system was foolproof As soon as they were fired, a detonator would ensure that the contaminated pheromone sprayed out at high pressure, ideally over the blue cloud. The sea would disperse it, and the yrr would take care of the rest. That was the best thing about the plan; Rubin's use of programmed cell death. Once the yrr had been contaminated, the collective would destroy itself in an incredible chain reaction.

He had done well.

She double-checked that the cylinders were firmly in place, manoeuvred the Deepflight back over the sluice, and lowered it until it was bobbing on the water. There was no time to put on a wetsuit. She'd just have to be careful. She raced down the ladder to the boat and clambered on board. The Deepflight rocked. Her gaze fell on the open pilot's pod; where Johanson was lying prone and inert.

That stubborn old fool. Why couldn't he have toppled to the side and fallen into the sluice? Now she had to dispose of a body too.

Suddenly she felt almost sorry. In a way she'd liked and admired the guy.

Under different circumstances she might…

The vessel rumbled.

It was too late to dispose of him. And, besides, it made no difference. The boat could be steered just as well from the co-pilot's pod. It simply meant transferring the controls. And she could always get rid of Johanson later, once the boat was under water.

There was a loud sound of breaking steel. Li crawled inside hastily and closed the pods. Her fingers sped over the controls. A low hum filled the air, as rows of lights and two small screens lit up. All the systems were ready. The Deepflight lay calmly on the dark green sea, ready to drop through the three-metre sluice into the depths. Li felt euphoric.

She'd done it.

Refuge

Johanson was sitting by the lake. The water lay still before him, covered with stars. He'd been longing to return there. He looked at the landscape of his soul and was filled with joy and awe. He felt strangely disembodied, with no sensation of warmth or cold. Something had changed. He felt as though he were the lake, the small house beside it, the silent dark forest all around him, the noises in the undergrowth, the dappled moon… He was everything, and everything was in him.

Tina Lund.

It was a pity that she couldn't be here too. He would have liked to grant her this restfulness, this peace. But she was dead, killed by nature's violent protest against the rot of civilisation that had spread along the coasts. Wiped away, like everything else, leaving nothing but the image in front of his eyes. The lake was eternal. This night would never end. And the solitude would give way to soothing nothingness, the final pleasure of the egotist.

Was that what he wanted?

Solitude had undeniable advantages. Time was precious, and being alone meant that you could spend it with yourself. If you listened, you could hear the most extraordinary things.

But when did solitude become loneliness?

Suddenly he felt fear.

Fear, like a pain spreading through him, eating at his chest and stealing his breath. A chill crept over him and he shivered. The stars in the lake expanded into red and green lights and buzzed with electricity. The landscape blurred, becoming shiny and rectangular. He was lying in a tunnel, a pipe or a tube.

In a flash he was conscious.

You're dead, he told himself.

No, he wasn't quite dead. But he knew he had only seconds. He was lying in a submersible bound for the depths, laden with radioactive pheromone to repay the yrr's crimes, if that was what they were, with an even worse transgression.

There were no stars in front of him; just the control panel of the Deepflight. The lights were on. He raised his eyes in time to see the well deck disappear.

They were in the sluice.

In a tremendous act of will-power he swivelled his head to the side. In the body pod next to him he saw the beautiful profile of Judith Li.

Li.

She had killed him.

Almost.

The boat sank. Steel plates and rivets flashed past. Soon the submersible would be out of the vessel. Then nothing and no one would be able to prevent Li emptying her murderous cargo into the sea.

He couldn't let it happen.

Sweating with effort he pushed his hands from under his body and stretched out his fingers. He nearly blacked out. The instruments were in front of him. He was lying in the pilot's pod. Li had transferred the controls, and was steering with the co-pilot's instruments – but that could be changed.

One push of a button and the controls would switch to him.

Which one?

Roscovitz's chief technician, Kate Ann Browning, had shown him how to use the boat. She'd been thorough, and he'd listened attentively. He was interested in that kind of thing. The invention of the Deepflight heralded a new era of deep-sea exploration, and Johanson had always been fascinated by the future. He knew where the button was. And he knew how to use the other instruments and how to achieve what he intended. All he had to do was retrieve it from his memory.

Think.

Like dying spiders his fingers crawled over the control panel, smearing it with blood. His blood.

Think.

There it was. And next to it…

He couldn't do much now. The life was ebbing from his body, but he still had a last reserve of strength. And that would suffice.

Go to hell, Judith Li.

Li

Judith Li stared out of the view dome. A few metres in front of her she could see the steel wall of the sluice. The boat was sinking leisurely towards the depths. One more metre, and she'd start up the propeller. Then a steep course downwards and to the side. If the Independence was going to sink within the next few minutes, she wanted to be as far away from it as possible.

When would she encounter the first collective? A large one might pose a problem, she was aware of that, and she had no idea how large a collective could be. There was also the danger of running into orcas, but whatever happened she could blast her way free. She had nothing to fear.