“Excuse me?” He couldn’t help glancing over at Oscar, who was in a huddle with Wilson and Anna. Oscar looked up expectantly.

“There’s a Senate Security team stranded there.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that, but it’s not our problem.”

“They’re following a Starflyer agent. I thought we wanted Starflyer agents.” Her arm swept around the auditorium. “That’s the whole idea, isn’t it? Grab them and haul them in here for Qatux.”

“Wait, which Starflyer agent are they watching?”

“Victor Halgarth, Isabella’s father,” Hoshe said.

“He’s there as well?” The Boongate gateway data in Nigel’s virtual vision grid showed him the wormhole opening.

“As well as who?” Mellanie asked. “Look, Nigel, the Senate Security team have just reported Victor’s on the move with a whole bunch of armed troops. We need to get them out, or send in reinforcements. Either way, the gateway has to be opened.”

Wilson and Oscar exchanged a startled look.

“The Paris team can’t divert to help Senate Security,” Oscar said. “Arresting Tarlo is an absolute priority.”

“Tarlo’s on Boongate?” Paula asked in surprise; she turned to Hoshe. “Why didn’t we know?”

“None of this has been filed,” Hoshe said.

“Two Starflyer agents on Boongate?” Nelson asked. He sounded alarmed.

“What operation are you running?” Paula asked Oscar.

“Tarlo’s appearance was reported by Edmund Li,” Oscar said. “He works at the Far Away freight inspectorate division on Boongate. Tarlo has taken over the whole Far Away section at Boongate station. The Paris office team are going in to arrest him.”

“Going in?” Paula asked in surprise; she rounded on Nigel. “Are you opening the gateway?”

“It’s already open,” Nigel said. He tried not to sound sheepish.

“You have to shut it,” Paula said. “This can’t be a coincidence.”

Nigel reviewed the data in his grid. “It’ll be closed any minute now.”

“Nigel!” Justine called out.

“Now what?”

“I’ve got Bradley Johansson, we really need to talk to him. Now.” She switched Johansson’s link to a general call.

“Mr. Johansson,” Nigel said. “It looks like the Commonwealth owes you a big apology.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sheldon, but right now I’d like to swap that for one piece of information.”

“What’s that?”

“There’s a train approaching the Boongate gateway. Is it one you authorized?”

“Yes. Don’t worry. It’s carrying a team who are going to deal with a Starflyer agent.”

“Really? And what about the second train?”

Nigel stared at Nelson. “What second train?”

The link broadened into a grainy visual image. A single aging carriage was crawling forward toward the giant row of gateways. Three hundred meters behind it, another train was sliding onto the track that led to Boongate.

“Who the fuck is that?” Nigel gasped. His expanded mentality accessed Narrabri station traffic control. The train wasn’t even registering on the system.

“Shut the gateway,” Paula demanded. “Now!”

Nigel didn’t need to be told. His virtual hand touched Daniel Alster’s icon. There was no reply; it didn’t even acknowledge his connection request. The only result was the Boongate gateway data dropping out of his grid. “Shit.” He hurriedly called up Ward Smith’s unisphere address code. It didn’t answer, either. Nigel diverted his full expanded mentality to the Boongate gateway control system, ready to take personal control and shut the wormhole. His electronic presence couldn’t gain access. “I can’t get in,” Nigel said. It shocked him more than anything else. “I can’t get into the fucking system.”

“What about Alster?” Oscar asked. “Can he shut it down?”

“He’s not responding.”

“Daniel Alster, your chief executive aide,” Paula said; she nodded with what could have been satisfaction. “Perfectly placed.”

“This is most exhilarating,” Qatux said. “I am so glad I came.”

***

The Boongate gateway was four hundred meters dead ahead, and the carriage had slowed to walking pace. Alic could see the track leading straight into the bottom of the funereal semicircle in front of them, glimmering silver in the dusky light. So close! The tension from waiting was acting like ice water on his guts. None of the others were saying anything; they all stood together watching the gateway as it opened for them.

It had never actually closed, Alic knew, that was misleading; the wormhole still reached Boongate—CST had simply reduced its internal width to zero. Expanding it again was a simple application of power. In his mind he saw it as a single big lever you just had to pull down.

The dark semicircle began to brighten, shading up to a husky gold.

“Here we go,” Matthew said.

“Hell, I never thought we’d actually do it,” Jim said. “What do you think the future’s going to be like?”

“Let’s just concentrate on the mission,” Alic said.

“Oh, come on, Boss, you’ve got to be interested.”

“Maybe, but the mission comes first.” But it did give him pause for thought as the carriage began to speed up.

“Do we get twenty years’ salary paid us?” Jim asked.

“From the navy?” John said. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“But we’ll be gone for twenty years.”

“Only if we actually make it through this time travel wormhole. I mean what happens if the Primes attack Wessex while we’re halfway through?”

“Then we get dead very quickly,” Vic said cheerfully. “Without the generator, the wormhole collapses with us inside.”

“Sheldon will use his superbomb against Dyson Alpha,” Matthew said. “Nobody’s going to attack Wessex. We’ll win the war.”

“Okay, but what if some other war breaks out in ten years’ time while we’re still traveling?”

“Great, you just keep looking on the good side—”

“Alic,” Oscar said. “It’s behind you.”

“What?” some primitive instinct sent a shiver along Alic’s limbs.

“The Starflyer is behind you. There’s a train accelerating along the track. We’ve lost control of the gateway. Move!”

Alic swung around to examine the rear of the carriage. The ceiling lights were dim back there, turning the cargo handling area into a gloomy metal cave. He raised an arm, a plasma rifle siding up out of its forearm recess. He set it to rapid expansion, and fired. The bolt blasted a two-meter hole through the rear of the carriage. A judder ran along the carriage floor as it rocked on its stiff old suspension.

“Christ, Boss,” Jim exclaimed. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Alic didn’t answer. He was staring through the gap. Bright light was shining straight in at him. His retinal inserts brought filter programs on-line. A GH7-class engine was moving onto their track three hundred meters behind them, its headlights blazing as it started to pick up speed. He could see the last of its wagons curving around off the points, clad in yellow sand. It was the train they’d just passed on a siding.

The front of the GH7 was almost three times the height of the carriage they were riding in, and easily twice as wide. Its chrome air intake grille alone was bigger than them. And its speed was reducing the distance fast; with only a few wagons it could accelerate hard.

“Shit!” Vic cried out.

“It’s the Starflyer,” Alic told them. One of his particle lances swung up and over his shoulder, pointing directly at the center of the GH7. He fired. Incandescence flooded the carriage like a solid force. Windows blew out from the sound blast of the discharge. Alic swayed backward, almost falling, feeling the suit’s electromuscle bands fighting the recoil. The lance struck the GH7 head-on, and broke apart.

“Force field,” Matthew said. “They’ve got heavy-duty protection.”

“Vic, John, take out the track,” Alic ordered. The GH7 was closer now, barely two hundred meters away. It was terrifyingly massive.

“Speed up,” Oscar said. “Take control of the carriage, and accelerate.”