She took him at face value. “Okay.”

“I blew stuff up, too. And we jihaded some teletroopers. That was fun.”

“It doesn’t sound like they made it easy for you.”

“Quite the opposite. They did everything to make sure I could find you. But they were playing a different game, one that ended with you and me eaten by bears.”

“And you decided not to go along with it?”

“I never liked rules, did I?”

There was a small hill, a flattish mound some two metres tall. It had a slit at its base, just wide enough to crawl through. It was impossible to see, even when right up close: someone could walk over it and never even notice it was there.

“There,” said Lucy. “What d’you think?”

“Not too shabby. I take it you added the thermal blanket.”

“Snow,” she said. “It’s called snow.”

“Yeah. But you wanted to make yourself invisible to infrared.”

“It took three of us half a day,” said Avaiq. “At least it seems to have worked.”

“Speaking of which, what happened to Dog-team Guy?”

“Inuuk. He’s one of my uncles. He tries to live the old ways. Hunting, fishing. Works a sled team. He can’t do it any more: it’s the weather, the animals, the community – everything he knew is now wrong, so I help him out. That’s what I was doing here, taking him supplies. He,” and Avaiq looked away. “The weird shit doesn’t scare him. He says he’s seen all kinds of things out here alone, on the Slope, in the winter. Yet when we – him, me, your daughter – managed to get the hatch open and this clear Jell-O just pours out? It was all I could do to stop him from running off into the night.”

“Like the gel inside impact armour,” said Lucy. “It looked, you know…”

“Wrong?” offered Petrovitch.

“Very.”

“So after we got back here and made her safe, he took off. Towards Barrow. He dragged me and the skidoo back to Deadhorse and didn’t stop. I guess he didn’t want to hang around any longer than he had to.” Avaiq looked glum. “I don’t know where he is. Alive, dead, I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything either way.”

“No radio?”

“Broken. Worked before, didn’t work after. He wouldn’t have used it if he could. He knew we were in the shit.” Avaiq looked at Lucy. “You told him yet?”

“I thought he should see for himself.”

“Yeah, okay: if you’re trying to get my attention, trust me, it’s all I can do to hold myself back.” Petrovitch eyed the entrance.

“Come on in, then. We’ve been out in the open long enough already.” She lay belly-down in the snow and reached inside the tunnel, pulling herself inside in stages. First her shoulders, then to her waist, then everything down to her knees. Her heels disappeared, and Petrovitch and Avaiq both indicated the other should go next.

“You first,” said the Inuit. “I’ve seen it. Creeps me out enough to know I’m not in a hurry to see it again.”

Petrovitch lowered himself until his cheek was pressed against the cold whiteness of the ground. He pushed his bag ahead of him, and a hand reached out to grab the handles. Then, like Lucy, he dragged himself forward.

37

It was dark inside. The blanket of snow above their heads stopped the heat from escaping as well as it prevented the light from outside penetrating through the blocks of ice that formed the dome of the igloo.

The only illumination came from a single candle in a glass jar, tucked into an alcove carved into the wall. Even the stickthin air hole had an angle in it, in case the glimmering telltale it made gave her away.

Her sleeping bag was on a snow ledge, on a blanket, and the floor was clear apart from two piles of tins and boxes, one for full, and the other for empties. She’d kept it as neat and clean as she could.

“Welcome, be it ever so humble, et cetera.” Lucy untoggled her parka – the kit he’d ordered for himself came from the same place as hers did – and let it swing free. “Sam, how are we getting out of this?”

“Had enough?” He searched the shadows. There was a bundle, long and low and slim, wrapped in a sealskin pelt.

She nodded. “No magic bus this time, either.”

“The cavalry are coming. This is one of the things we could actually plan for. Their air-defence radar shouldn’t pick anything up, and while we can’t do anything about the planes being eyeballed, they’re coming in over the ocean, in a fog bank, maintaining total radio silence. There’s an AWACS platform in the sky that’s about to mysteriously develop a fault. We still might have to bust our way out of here the hard way.” He took an involuntary step towards the sealskin. “Is that it?”

“Yes.” Lucy was momentarily distracted by Avaiq pulling himself in. “When did our lifters leave?”

“About twenty minutes ago. Part of the protocol: I find you, they take off.” His mouth twitched. “One of them will try and make it through, with the others lining up to sacrifice themselves to the missiles and guns they’ll throw our way.”

“Madeleine’s on one of them, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. So’s Tabletop, against all common sense. And Tina.” Petrovitch swallowed. Avaiq stood up next to him, his head almost at the ceiling. “Just discussing our escape plan. It’s a bit crap, but it might just work.”

“A bit crap?”

“Meh. We’ll be fine.” He got down on his knees and ran his gloved hand over the soft seal fur. He thought he should be able to feel something different, but he was disappointed. “May I?”

“You won’t break it, if that’s what you mean,” said Lucy. She got down on the floor next to him and dug her hands under the pelt, pulling both the object and the skin towards them. She unwrapped it almost casually, as if she’d done it a hundred times.

She probably had. But it was Petrovitch’s first.

It looked like a big oval serving dish, curved on both upper and lower surfaces. Its matt grey surface shone dully in the candlelight.

“No space jelly left?”

“It seemed to go from gel to liquid, then evaporate away. I think it was there just to protect this.”

Petrovitch pulled his mittens off and laid them by his side. “By the way.” He opened his bag and pulled out the components of a link. “Present for you.”

“Thanks.” She took it from him and unwrapped the curved computer. After she lifted up the polyester fleece she wore under her parka, there were two more layers after that, and only then her bare skin. “I so need a shower.”

Petrovitch leaned in close enough for his breath to mist the object’s surface. Droplets of water formed on its cold surface, and started to run off. “Low friction.”

“It’s as slippery as soap. I dropped it. Twice.”

“No boom?” He pulled his thin gloves off and added them to the pile.

“No boom.” Lucy readjusted her clothing and took up the earpiece.

Petrovitch ran his bare palm over the object. There was no join, or seal, or button or switch. It appeared completely featureless. He turned it over, with difficulty because it was so hard to hold, and searched the other side. “So I don’t spend time we don’t have wondering, does it open?”

“It opens. Took me long enough to work it out, and then only by accident.” She screwed up one eye as the earpiece clamped on inside her ear. “Hey, Michael.”

She smiled at the response.

On a whim, Petrovitch flicked his eyes to see infrared. It was a completely uniform temperature. He pressed his hand against it, and the heat just leaked away. When he took his hand off again, the whole of it was very slightly warmer.

“Superconductor of heat,” he said. On a whim, he tried ultraviolet. There was nothing. He flipped the object again – it was heavy, but not suspiciously so – and saw, in faintly glowing outlines, a block of symbols in between two largish circles.

“You can’t see UV, can you?”

Lucy frowned. “Well, no. Being completely biological and all.”