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  “Right... you’ve got a staph infection. Nothing else.” He checked the rows of indicator squares again. There was a single amber result among the green. The woman just needed antibiotics, as long as this wasn’t another resistant strain. “So you want me to bring you some meds?”

  “No, I need to find Nanton Park.”

  So Zakko was telling the truth. “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Ainatio?”

  “Ah.”

  “Am I in the right place? Am I?” Her eyes suddenly brimmed. “Am I really here?”

  There was no point in being evasive. It wasn’t Chris’s secret to keep. “Pretty much, ma’am.”

  She’d been all badass and in control up to now, but suddenly she burst into tears. She wasn’t putting it on, either. Chris knew the difference. She stopped herself after a few sobs and wiped her nose on the back of her hand, blinking. Chris had passed the point of offering weeping women his handkerchief or trying to comfort them. There’d been too many. He waited for her to compose herself and carry on.

  “Well, yeah, you can see I’m glad the journey’s over,” she said at last. “Ainatio. Do you work for them?”

  “No.”

  “Sorry, you just looked more official than the other guy I talked to. Can you contact them?”

  “Why?”

  “My name’s Annis Kim. Dr Annis Kim.” She cleared her throat. “It’s taken me eight months to get here from Seoul. I need to talk to whoever’s in charge of research.”

  How the hell did anyone get here from the Far East? Why leave Asia? She wasn’t a refugee. “Seoul? You mean Korea? You don’t sound Korean.”

  “I’m from Melbourne. Australia. I was a physicist at Seoul National University. Please, either tell me how to find the centre, or give them a message.”

  Chris hoped he’d finally learned the difference between a dumb impulse and a rare opportunity that needed to be seized. He knew this was important, even if he didn’t know why. Nobody would have left the safety of Asia to travel halfway around the world unless it was absolutely vital, and in this little closed world of Hart County, everything that affected Ainatio affected his people as well. What else could he do? He wasn’t about to dump her on Kill Line, because Doug would never turn her away, and Chris didn’t want someone this random in the camp.

  But she hadn’t asked him for refuge. She wanted Ainatio. He’d never had any real contact with them, but he knew they sometimes monitored his patrols. He had one of their radio frequencies, the one Doug kept for emergencies. Maybe it was time to try it out.

  “What do you want me to tell them?” he asked. “If they respond, that is.”

  “Is it okay if I get something else out of my pocket?”

  “Sure.”

  She took out a small paper notebook and wrote two lines in it. When she handed it to him, it was her name and a list of numbers, some with decimal points. There were too many groups for map co-ordinates, but that was how it looked to him.

  “Call them,” she said. “Read out those numbers, and tell them to give them to their most senior astrophysicist.”

  Maybe it was about the orbitals. That might have been where most of the risky research had been done, the stuff with genetically modified bugs that could clean up the soil — or kill off the remaining plant life if something went wrong. Chris pulled out his old State Defence radio and scanned the frequencies.

  “What is this exactly?” He keyed the numbers into the radio’s scratchpad, in case he needed them later for reasons he couldn’t even begin to imagine. “ID code?”

  “It’ll tell them everything they need to know, and why I’m here.”

  “And then?”

  “They’ll want to see me. Guaranteed.”

  * * *

  Security Control Room,

  Ainatio Park Research Centre

  “Major, I’ve got some guy on the net who shouldn’t be there.”

  Trinder didn’t look up for a moment. The jumble of comms systems still in use around Ainatio led to some sloppy discipline, and his first thought was that Simonot meant one of the technicians was using a security frequency, which they’d been warned repeatedly not to do. But if Simonot had meant that, he’d have said so.

  “Some guy?”

  “He ID’d himself as Chris Montello from the transit camp. One of the vets. He’s found a civilian scientist who wants to relay a message. Channel fourteen, sir.”

  Trinder wasn’t sure which was the bigger surprise, the fact that a scientist had left the facility without the security system noticing, or that the ghostlike refugees who never came within a mile of the gate were now flashing them up on the radio.

  The camp folk kept themselves to themselves. They’d reached an arrangement with the farmers to patrol the area, and Trinder was happy to let them carry on. He’d seen the aftermath of the shoot-out with a gang on the boundary just after they’d arrived: not pretty, but professional and thorough, so they weren’t people he needed to pick a pointless fight with, and as he only had twenty-nine troops, they were a useful addition to security. It made sense to see them as auxiliaries managed by Doug Brandt. It was odd that they’d called it in to the company and not gone via Doug, though.

  Trinder checked the board. All personnel were showing as still within the Ainatio perimeter, but he didn’t need to rely on the ID trackers. Anyone leaving would have to exit via the main gate, and that meant being physically signed out by the duty guard, an event so rare that it would have required advance notice and an armed escort. Something was very wrong.

  “I’m not asking the right questions, am I?” Trinder adjusted his earpiece and selected the channel. “Transit Camp, Transit Camp, this is Ainatio Echo Five Actual, do you have one of our personnel with you, over?”

  “Echo Five Actual, this is Transit Camp. I have one female casualty with hypothermia and an infected puncture wound to the hand.” The guy sounded calm and professional. Yes, he had to be a vet. “Test-carded, no contagion risk. Name given — Dr Annis Kim — I spell, Alpha November November India Sierra, Kilo India Mike. She also has an ID code, over.”

  “Transit camp, we don’t use ID codes, over.”

  “Echo Five Actual, she has a sequence of numbers that she insists on relaying, over.”

  “Transit camp, wait one.” Trinder knew every name by now, and Annis Kim wasn’t one of Ainatio’s white-coats. This was a secure facility, not meant to be found by casual visitors or even people looking very hard for it. He checked the staff list anyway. “Transit Camp, negative, she is not one of our personnel, over.”

  “Echo Five Actual, correct, I am aware. She’s a physicist from Seoul National University, requesting entry. I say again, Seoul, Korea, APS, over.”

  APS. Shit.

  That was an acronym Trinder hadn’t needed to use on the net in a while. The Alliance of Asian and Pacific States — always known as APS like some shadowy three-letter agency — had closed its borders to the Western world. They’d also stopped their citizens leaving, afraid of letting them return with infectious diseases or smuggled plants carrying die-back. That made Dr Kim a real mystery. Trinder’s SOPs said he should refuse entry to any unauthorised personnel, but he couldn’t turn her away without an answer to one question: how did a Korean scientist travel seven thousand very hostile miles to end up here? The security implications were too serious. He’d have to bring her in and question her. Erskine would rip him a new one, though.

  “Transit Camp, understood,” Trinder said. “Go ahead with the message, over.”

  “Echo Five Actual, she wants a numeric code given to, er, a senior astrophysicist. Figures — fifteen, twenty-two decimal five, minus forty-seven...”

  Montello read out four sets of numbers. Trinder wrote the sequence on the reactive desktop with his finger, then read it back to Montello and told him to stand by again. Jon Simo
not was sitting in his cubicle on the other side of the office at a discreet distance, waiting for orders, unable to hear the other side of the conversation.

  Trinder went off-mike. “Corporal, get hold of Dr Mangel or his assistant and tell him I’ve got an urgent question.” He tapped the mike back on again. “Transit Camp, I’m checking as requested. Wait out.”

  Trinder suspected that he’d find this woman hadn’t travelled from Korea at all. But she asked for an astrophysicist. That’s weird. And specific. He copied the numbers into his personal notebook by hand, just as a precaution.

  Simonot stood up and gestured over the top of the cubicle. “Dr Mangel for you, sir.” Well, that was fast. “I’ll patch him through.”

  Mangel was always bright and breezy, but Trinder never mistook that for friendliness. “This is an unexpected thrill, Major,” Mangel said. “What can I do for you?”

  “There’s a code that I need to identify. I was wondering if you could do it.” If you could do it. Those five words guaranteed co-operation from any scientist. They never liked the grunts to think that something might be beyond them. “The sender specifically asked for an astrophysicist. You’ll appreciate why that worries me.”

  “Sender? Where from?”

  “If you can identify the code, that’ll tell me.”

  “I’m intrigued. You have my undivided attention.”

  “Okay, I’ll read it out. Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  “Fifteen, twenty-two decimal five — ”

  Trinder expected to at least finish reading the list, but Mangel interrupted. “Where did you get that?”

  “Don’t you want to hear the rest?”

  “I don’t need to.” The prof sounded panicky. All the bravado had gone out of his voice. “Who gave it to you?”

  Something serious was going down, and Trinder hadn’t had much of note or weight to get his adrenaline going for a very long time. “Dr Annis Kim,” he said, bracing for disbelief. “A physicist from a Korean university. She’s here, apparently, and she wants to talk to us.”

  “Bring her in,” Mangel said.

  Mangel believed it, then. Maybe he knew who she was. He’d be handy as top cover to fend off Erskine’s wrath when she found out they’d let an outsider come in.

  “My orders are to prevent all unauthorised entry,” Trinder said. “Will you sign off on this and inform Director Erskine?”

  “Absolutely. Get Dr Kim in here now and don’t let anyone else speak with her.”

  “She needs a medic. She’s got an infected wound and hypothermia.”

  “I’ll deal with it. Call me when you’ve got her.”

  Trinder opened the channel to Montello. “Transit Camp, this is Echo Five Actual — affirmative, Dr Kim can enter. What is your location, over?”

  “Echo Five Actual, we’re on the river near the old jetty. I’ll transport her to your main gate. I’ll be on an AT bike, and she’ll need assistance to move. I’ve bagged up her boots in case of contaminated material. I’ll wait at the first barrier, over.”

  “Understood, Transit Camp. I’ll be there. Echo Five Actual out.”

  Trinder alerted the main gate on the radio, then headed down the passage to see if Lennie Fonseca was around. He needed to warn her too. Until he knew why that sequence had made Mangel panic, he’d keep a close eye on this. He found her planning a training exercise on the 3-D table, repelling a virtual assault with a sweep of her finger. Apart from the occasional escort detail, this was as near as they ever got to real soldiering.

  “Heads up,” he said. “I’m collecting an unexpected visitor from the main gate. I don’t know what’s going on, but Mangel went into a high hover and overrode SOPs. I’ll brief you later. The gossip’s going to start the second I reach the gate.”

  “How unexpected?”

  “APS unexpected.”

  “Wow.” It was enough to distract Fonseca from the plan for a moment. “Don’t defectors normally head somewhere better than the place they’re escaping? Did he swim here?”

  “She. We’ll find out.”

  This wasn’t going to stay quiet for long. Trinder gave it a day at most. You couldn’t stroll down to the main gate and let someone in without at least half a dozen people being aware of it, and then the medical team would know all about it as well. APS was so remote from the shattered West now that Kim’s arrival was like an alien landing on Earth.

  No, you really couldn’t keep a big secret under wraps in a closed community like Ainatio. It was more a village than a workplace. Trinder still didn’t feel part of it even after ten years. He took a vehicle from the pool and drove down to the gate, mindful of watching eyes. The duty sentry stepped out of the small guard house as he pulled up.

  “Am I doing a search, sir?” she asked.

  “No, Private, I can handle this. The woman’s injured, so there’ll be an ambulance along in a few minutes.”

  Trinder could see a question forming that wouldn’t get asked, at least not in front of him. It had been years since they’d last brought in staff from overseas, a handful of Western scientists who’d been stranded beyond Asia’s borders, but that meant a shuttle flight to the unmanned orbital station and a transfer back to the surface. It was the quickest, safest way to move between continents. Accepting anyone who came overland was a one-off event, a real drama to be gossiped about.

  The three sets of gates slid open for him one at a time. He stood out front in the snow, listening for engine sounds and trying to pick up movement in the fading afternoon light. Eventually, the sound of an AT bike drifted on the air and the vehicle emerged from the trees to the right.

  Trinder took out his binoculars. A thirty-something guy in a leather jacket was steering carefully, dodging bumps and potholes, with what looked like two dogs and a heap of rags in the carrier on the back. As the bike got closer, Trinder realised the rags were a woman, and the dogs were huddled on either side of her as if they were keeping her warm. The bike stopped at the security line and the rider got off, gesturing to the dogs to stay put.

  “Major Trinder? I’m Chris. Chris Montello.”

  “Hi Chris. Call me Dan.”

  Chris took off one glove and held out his hand for shaking. He wasn’t what Trinder had expected. He was a military man right down to his posture, but under the army-short, light brown hair and goatee, he had the beatific face of a priest. The saintly expression didn’t go with his strictly business manner.

  “Thanks for bringing her in,” Trinder said. “There’s an ambulance on the way.”

  “Yeah, she can’t walk. She was alert and coherent earlier, but she’s very sluggish now.”

  “How did you find her?”

  “I went looking. One of my guys reported a contact. I needed to make sure she wasn’t scouting for a gang.”

  “And was she?”

  “I’d say not. I make a point of never being certain that we’re safe, but I didn’t see anything. Our drones are only short-range, though.” Chris handed him a time-worn plastic bag and looked past him to the gates. “Ah, there’s your medic. You will remember to test these boots for contamination, won’t you?”

  “Sure. Did she say anything to you?”

  “Only what I told you. I don’t even know how she got here.”

  Chris called the dogs off the bike to let the paramedics deal with Dr Kim, but the animals still watched suspiciously. One of the dogs had odd-coloured eyes and the most accusing stare that Trinder had seen in man or beast. He looked away.

  “I wasn’t expecting to hear you on the radio net,” Trinder said.

  “Yeah, I’ve still got my old military set. An emergency’s an emergency. Didn’t you spot her out there? She’s been in the area at least a couple of days.”

  “Obviously not.” The drones had their limitations when it came to areas with plenty of tree
cover. It was also too easy to assume — correctly, as it turned out — that Chris and his buddies would pick up any intruders. “We’ll revise the drone cover.”

  “I’m not telling you how to do your job, sir, but there’s only fifty of us to cover two hundred square miles, minus your sector. I’d put a few automated sentry units along the river, if you’ve got any. That’s the most likely path of ingress.”

  Sir. So much for call me Dan. “Yeah, we need to look at that,” Trinder said. “Well, thanks for your assistance today. I’m sure Dr Kim’s grateful.”

  “No problem. She must be seriously motivated to come all this way, though.” It was the kind of comment that would have been a question from anyone else, but Trinder took it as a statement that Chris was now on alert and thought Trinder needed to up his game. “I didn’t know this place was ever called Nanton. You live and learn.”

  “Mind if I ask you something personal?”

  Chris mounted the bike. The dogs jumped on behind him. “Sure.”

  “Where did you serve?”

  “State Defence Force. Sergeant. Last unit out of Baltimore.”

  Footage of the evacuation had been some of the last news to reach Ainatio before the network shut down. “Damn.” It was all Trinder could manage. “That was rough.”

  “Yeah. But everyone made it.”

  “Time to stand down, maybe.”

  “Nope. Just because there’s no government doesn’t mean our oaths are over. We’ll keep doing what we were tasked to do. Save civilians.” Chris looked at him almost sympathetically for a moment, maybe disappointed to realise he was dealing with a paper soldier. “Okay, call me if you need anything.”

  Trinder had no idea what to say. The camp militia were hardened troops beyond his experience. Chris Montello had been asked to do way too much in his time, and Trinder was painfully aware that he’d been asked to do very little.

  The crazy-looking dog with the odd blue eye gazed back at him accusingly all the way down the road until the bike disappeared behind the trees.

  “Baltimore,” he muttered to himself. “Damn.”