'We'll need a better antenna,' said Bing, in his element. 'I'll need copper wire and insulators.'

Hammond managed to find whatever was needed. The travelling repair shop was amazingly well kitted out.

Our start was delayed by over four hours, and the morning was shot before Bing started to get results. Eventually he got the beefed-up transmitter on the air which was in itself a triumph, but that was just the beginning. General Kigonde's headquarters were hard to locate and contact, and once we'd found them there was another problem; a captain doesn't simply chat to his commander-in-chief whenever he wants to. It took an hour for Sadiq to get patched through to the military radio network and another hour of battling through the chain of command.

I'll give Sadiq his due; it takes a brave and determined man to bully and threaten his way through a guard of civilian secretaries, colonels and brigadiers. He really laid his neck on the block and if Kigonde hadn't been available, or didn't back him, I wouldn't have given two cents for his later chances of promotion. When he spoke to Kigonde the sun was high in the sky and he was nearly as high with tension and triumph.

'You did OK, Sandy,' I said to Bing, who was standing by with a grin all over his face as the final connection came through. Wingstead clapped him on the shoulder and there were smiles all round.

Sadiq and Kigonde spoke only in Nyalan, and the Captain's side of the conversation became more and more curt and monosyllabic. Sadiq looked perturbed; obviously he would like to tell us what was going on, but dared not sever the precious connection, and Kigonde might run out of patience at any moment and do his own cutting off from the far end. I was sick with impatience and the need for news. At last I extended a hand for the headphones and put a whipcrack into my own voice.

Tell him I want to speak to him.'

Before Sadiq could react I took the headphones away from him. There was a lot of static as I thumbed the speak button and said, 'General Kigonde, this is Mannix. What is happening, please?'

He might have been taken aback but didn't close me out.

'Mister Mannix, there is no time for talk. Your Captain has received orders and he must obey them. I cannot supervise the movement of every part of the army myself.'

'Has he told you the situation at Ngingwe? That it is a dead end? The road goes nowhere now. We need him, General. Has he told you what's happening here, with your people?'

Through the static, Kigonde said, 'Captain Sadiq has orders to obey. Mister Mannix, I know you have many people in trouble there, but there is trouble everywhere.'

That gave me an idea. I said, 'General Kigonde, do you know who gave Captain Sadiq his orders?'

'I did not get the name. Why do you ask?'

'Does the name Colonel Maksa mean anything to you?' It was taking a gamble but I didn't think the chances of Maksa or anyone on his staff overhearing this conversation were strong. It was a risk we had to take.

Static crackled at me and then Kigonde said, 'That is… perhaps different. He was in command of forces in the north. I have not heard from him.'

Doubt crept into Kigonde's voice.

I said urgently, 'General, I think you do have doubts about Colonel Maksa. If he were against you what better could he do than draw off your troops? Captain Sadiq is completely loyal. Where would you get the best use out of him? Here with us, or cut off upcountry? If I were you I'd cancel those orders, General.'

'You may be right, Mister Mannix. I must say the Captain would be better off for my purposes further west. I will send him to Makara instead.'

'But we're going to Makara ourselves. Can he stay with us until we get there?'

I was really pushing my luck and I wasn't surprised when he demanded to speak to Sadiq again. It was a long one-sided conversation, and when he rang off we could all see that he had been told something that had shaken him badly.

He remembered his manners before anything else, turned to Bing and said, 'Thank you very much. I am grateful to you,' which pleased Bing immensely. But Sadiq didn't look grateful, only distressed.

'Let's go and sit down, Captain,' I said. 'Geoff, you, me and Basil only, I think. Move it out, you guys. Find something to do.'

Sadiq filled us in on the conversation. He was to move westwards to Makara with us, but once there he was to push on towards Fort Pirie, leaving us to cope. It was as much as we could have expected. But it occurred to me that the General must be in a bad way if he was calling such minor outfits as Sadiq's to his assistance.

'The General says that the Government is in power in Port Luard once again. The rebellion is crushed and almost all the rebels are rounded up,' Sadiq said. That was what Kigonde would say, especially on the air, and none of us put too much faith in it. But at least it meant that the Government hadn't been crushed.

'The rebellion was premature, I think,' Sadiq said. 'The opposition was not ready and has been beaten quite easily in most places.'

'But not everywhere. Does he know where this Colonel Maksa is? I think we have to assume he's on the wrong side, don't you?' I said.

'Yes, the Colonel's politics are suspect. And he is known to be hereabouts. There are planes looking for him and his force.'

'Planes?' said Wingstead in alarm. 'Whose planes?'

'Ah, it is all most unfortunate, sir. We were wrong, you see. The Air Force, Air Chief Marshall Semangala is on the side of the Government.'

'Ouseman's allies!' My jaw dropped. Then why was Mister Wingstead's plane shot down, for God's sake?'

'I don't know, Mister Mannix. But perhaps the Air Force expected that any civilian planes flying in the battle area belonged to the rebels,' Sadiq said unhappily. I thought of Max Otterman, fighting for his life somewhere on the rig, and rage caught in my throat.

Geoff Wingstead was ahead of me. 'What about the bombing of Kodowa, then? The troop moving through the town at the time was Kigonde's own Second Battalion. Are you going to tell us that was a mistake, too?'

'Ah, that was very bad. Air Force Intelligence thought that the Second Battalion was already with the Seventh Brigade at Bir Oassa. When they saw troops moving north they thought it was the enemy trying to cut off the Seventh Brigade from corning south. So they attacked.' Sadiq looked anguished.

A mistake! They'd bombed their own men thinking they were the enemy. It wouldn't be the first time that had happened in a war. But they'd bombed them in the middle of a town when they could easily have waited to catch them out in the open. So would somebody eventually apologize for this colossal, tragic mistake? Apologize for the pits full of corpses, the ruined town, the wrecked and tortured people on the rig or hobbling through the wasted country? To Sister Ursula and Dr Kat, to Dr Marriot for the killing of her husband? To Antoine Dufour for the death of his partner?

Somebody ought to say they were sorry. But nobody ever would.