There were a lot of police around the apartment complex and it took some time before the road block would let them through. Dorac stared out of the windscreen of Agnes's car and sighed.

'Looks busy.'

Agnes pulled over and they climbed out, slipping into bullet-proof cuirasses as they did so. Somewhere nearby a huge air filter was huffing and puffing as it purified the dome's air. To Dorac it sounded like a giant who'd run a marathon.

Colonel deSalva looked up from his fone as they approached.

'Oh, it's you.'

I'm pleased to see you too, thought Dorac. 'Is she in there, then?'

'How did you...? Never mind. We can handle it.'

'Yeah, but we can watch, can't we?' asked Agnes. 'Vested interest and all that.'

DeSalva smirked. 'I guess you amateur detectives need to file reports just as much as we do. All right, you can watch. But it's our operation.'

They stepped off a few paces and observed the police at work. The apartment block was three stories high—most buildings on the Moon were low—and had apparently been empty for some time. Despite the massive influx of refugees to the Moon, there were still some places so old they were hardly suitable for human habitation anymore. This building looked at least a century old; other facilities, like the air purification system, had been developed around it. A good place for someone like Nancy to hide.

Police vehicles now surrounded the building on all sides; at least fifty officers were there, and a host of paranoids and AI's of all kinds. No one seemed to have made any approaches yet. Dorac spied an AI hovering in the air around the upper levels.

'Bomb tracker,' he said to Agnes. 'Sniffing out if Nancy's got any nasty surprises rigged up.'

Agnes turned on her fone and started recording the scene. She panned and tracked the surrounding area. 'Nothing,' she said, but it was obvious her little fone could hardly compete with the police technology. 'Although I get the feeling Nancy wouldn't make it that easy to find her.'

They watched for a few minutes longer. Nothing happened. DeSalva seemed to be doing the right things, but Dorac yawned.

'You know what I think?' he asked.

'What?'

'She's not in there.'

He crossed his arms and glanced around. The street was crowded with police, but the avenues leading off it were deserted: no doubt the surrounding area had been evacuated in case a bomb did go off. All the street lights were on, but no one paid much attention.

'So what do those razor-like Sirian senses tell you?'

'Not much. But my brain's screaming at me.' Before Agnes could make the obvious joke, he went on. 'Think like Nancy. Your hide-out is discovered. But you know the city—the whole galaxy—is looking for you. That's why you haven't been able to move to another planet. And Earth sure isn't the place to be right now. So, you're stuck on the Moon. Your cover is blown. What do you do next?'

'Slip quietly away.'

'Right. Long before deSalva and his trusty boys and girls can get here. You'd have an escape plan all worked out beforehand.'

'Just like you in Cairo.'

'Just like me in Cairo.' Dorac remembered crossing the narrow board between two buildings to evade Agnes's raid on the Shamah cell's headquarters a year ago. He still woke up from bad dreams about how high it was.

'So you're saying she's already gone.'

'You're not thinking like Nancy. There's nowhere she can go. She has to stay here, in the city. And Nancy always likes to watch the fun.'

He glanced up at the police AI sniffing for explosives. It was circling around a particular spot on the upper floor now.

'I'd suggest a hasty retreat,' said Dorac. 'I don't like the look of things.'

Agnes nodded and they eased back towards her vehicle. DeSalva had noticed the AI's interest and was looking at his fone. Bomb disposal experts did the same. The tension gained a new edge.

'Feel like a coffee?' asked Dorac, opening the door of Agnes's car and climbing in. She turned the vehicle and drove back through the police roadblock; there was no move to intercept them this time.

The explosion rocked the car, even lifting it slightly and slinging it a few metres ahead on the road. Agnes fought the steering as they landed. Behind them the building vanished in an appalling burst of flame. Dark shapes of police vehicles and paranoids scattered as the bomb ripped into them.

Gripping the dashboard, Dorac looked back over his shoulder as Agnes continued to drive.

'Where did she get that stuff?' he asked.

Something hit the car. Agnes pulled up, but Dorac shouted, 'No! Keep going!'

Nancy had started shooting. More importantly, she'd started shooting at them. She never forgot a grudge.

Another bullet struck the car, punching down through the roof and slamming into the upholstery.

'I felt the wind from that one!' said Agnes.

'There! Pull over!'

Agnes steered to the corner and they climbed out. Another bullet slapped into the pavement.

Dorac grabbed Agnes to shove her out of the way and as a result they both landed hard on the road. He rolled to one side; Agnes was saved from losing a great deal of skin by her cuirass, which scraped along the road surface.

They scrambled up, crouching, searching the shadows to their left where the bullet seemed to have come from.

'Come on!' Dorac was already running to the side street. Nancy might take another shot, but he doubted it. She should be more interested in escaping once the shot had failed.

They were near the city centre now, but the late hour meant most places were closed. Overhead the transparent ceramic dome reflected the lights below so almost nothing could be seen outside. Only the Earth appeared in crescent form high above.

At the end of the street they halted back to back, still searching.

'The building on the left I think,' said Dorac. 'High windows. Easy access to the street we were in.'

'Whose left?'

'My left.'

'That's the transport department.'

'Does that matter?'

'My guess is the right. Lower, but almost totally blacked out. No one inside. Less likely to be disturbed.'

Another smack at their feet. Both leapt away, Agnes to the right, Dorac to the left, to find shelter against the buildings.

It's dark. She must be unable to see us clearly, thought Dorac.

He worked his way along the building to a doorway. Locked, of course. He glanced up at the windows but could see nothing. It occurred to him that if he was right, and Nancy was hidden in this building, Agnes on the other side of the street was an easy target. But if she was right...

He ducked as another bullet struck the window beside him and glass showered his face.

Nothing for it. He risked a dash across the street and made it without dying. This side was in shadow, but he came up almost immediately to an open door. There was no sign of Agnes.

His face hurt where the glass had struck him, but he wiped the blood off and moved inside. The lights were turned off but he didn't ask any lurking AI to switch them on. It was some kind of foyer, but what exactly the building was remained a mystery. He moved across a dark-coloured carpet to glass doors next to a reception desk. On the desk were connections for AI's and fone links, but no actual technology. A chair on the other side of the desk was pushed in. The desk looked dusty and unused.

Behind the glass doors was a potted plant and what looked like a short corridor. He placed his hand on the door and pushed.

It was unlocked, too. If Nancy was in here she'd left her back wide open. Or maybe it was Agnes, leaving things easy for him. Holding his gun in both hands, he thrust the door open with his shoulder and stepped into the corridor.

A heavy thud behind the wall to his left. He ran to the nearest door ahead and found it, too, open. He looked in quickly and pulled back.

The glance was enough.

The building hadn't been used in a while. Inside the room was large and empty except for steel columns that braced the ceiling. At the end closest to Dorac was Agnes, sheltering behind a steel column. He didn't need to wonder why.

He lay down on the floor and eased his head around the door slowly. Agnes was crouched down, back to the column, holding her pistol. She noticed Dorac's head appear and pointed with her thumb behind her. Dorac looked, but all he could see were metal columns. The far end of the room lay shrouded in shadow.

Agnes mouthed Nancy.

Dorac nodded and eased his gun into position. Agnes pointed left and held up three fingers.

Third column on the left.

He looked at that column. It was in the gloomiest part of the whole room.

'Nancy!' called Agnes. 'You missed me. I'm Agnes Lawson. I just want to talk.'

No reply.

Dorac put his gun down and pulled up the keydisc of his fone to contact Colonel deSalva. As he tapped out a message Agnes spoke again.

'Nancy, we're not regular police. In fact we're not any kind of police. We just have some questions.'

The woman was smart not to reply, not to reveal her position. Dorac hoped Agnes was right about which column. Or...

He stood up and eased into the room. No one shot at him. Holding a finger to his lips at Agnes he sidled inside until he, too, was sheltered behind a column. He listened, his big Sirian ears straining for any sound.

Nothing but his own breathing and the faint sounds of the city outside. Somewhere a long way off, a police siren.

He sniffed. The place smelled of old dust and hot metal. And sweat—but it was his sweat and Agnes's. No one else.

Did you hear about the Sirian who lost his nose?

How does he smell?

Terrible.

The old joke came back even at that moment, but Dorac's nose had saved him in the past.

He stepped out from behind the column and ran to the one Agnes had indicated.

No one there.

'Fuck!'

Agnes emerged and came over.

'Well that's embarrassing,' she said, licking her lips.

Behind the column was a hole in the wall. It looked fresh, with sharp edges of metal and stone. On the floor beside it was a heavy-duty laser cutter.

'That's how she got in,' said Agnes. 'Clever girl.'

Dorac put his head through the hole and didn't get it blown off. Outside was the next building, with a pile of lunar soil and rock tumbled up against the wall. He stared upwards at the line of the roof ten metres above. The lunar soil smelled like gunpowder, tickling his sensitive olfactory chambers.

'We could climb up there. I bet she did.'

Agnes picked up the laser cutter and checked the power, then thrust it into her belt. She stared at the pile of soil. Some large rocks had collected at the bottom; the upper parts of the pile looked loose and dangerous.

'You first,' said Agnes. 'You're heavier. If it can hold you...'

'Lousy excuse.'

He began to climb, standing on the big rocks and pulling himself up with both hands. He'd heard somewhere that lunar regolith, and lunar dust, could be dangerous, being more angular and jagged than Earth soil, or even Sirian. On the Moon there was no atmosphere to erode the hard edges down. If it entered the lungs it could create all sorts of problems. He held his breath as he climbed. In the low gravity the task wasn't all that hard, but the soil collapsed under his hands. For every two steps up he slid back one. If Nancy had come this way, she must be a skilled climber.

The pile ended two metres short of the top, about Dorac's own height. He stood on top of the pile and peeked carefully onto the flat roof of the building.

'Hello,' he said.

Behind him he heard Agnes pause as she scrambled up the pile.

'Is she up there?' she whispered.

'No. But she's been here. I can smell her.'

'Eww.'

'Shut up and follow me.'

Dorac hauled himself over the edge of the roof and crouched down until he had a good look around. Agnes appeared beside him, managing in the lunar gravity to haul herself up and over with one hand, keeping the other free for her gun.

They stood up and bounded across to the other side of the building to look down into the street. The apartment block was on fire.

'She shot from up here,' said Dorac. 'See, a clear view of the whole street.'

'And the other shots came from the building we were just in.'

But where was she now? They were exposed up here.

'I entered the building through the same door you must have,' continued Agnes. 'It was unlocked, but I don't know if Nancy did that. She was in the room with the pillars and ducked out of sight. I called out to her and she answered the first time. Then you appeared.'

'What did she say?'

'"Fuck you."'

'A positive identification then.'

'Well she's not here now. Let's get down and report.'

The thought of reporting to Colonel deSalva made Dorac sneer. He'd made a lousy acting-lieutenant in the Elite Navy precisely because of narrow-headed officers like deSalva. Settling things the Sirian way was much simpler and took half the time. But there was nothing for it. It was be foolish to take on Nancy without some kind of back-up.

They turned and headed back to the other edge of the roof. At the pile of soil and rock Dorac put one foot over the edge and prepared to jump down.

The bullet struck Agnes in the right shoulder and knocked her forwards onto the edge of the roof. Her cuirass absorbed the blow but she overbalanced and fell onto Dorac, who let go of the edge. They both tumbled down to the bottom of the pile.

'Are you all right?'

'Fuck that hurt.'

'Are you all right?'

'Yes! But I think my arm's bleeding. That was armour piercing.'

Dorac could see the pain on Agnes's face. He checked her shoulder, where blood was seeping from under the cuirass. Her left arm hung limp. He reached into his pocket to extract a small medical AI and let its do its thing as he scanned the roofs above them. Nothing but darkness and a thin outline of the roofs under the ceramic dome.

Thunk, and a spray of soil made him haul on Agnes's good arm and pull her back towards the hole in the first building. She winced but the medical AI managed to hold on and continue patching her shoulder.

Where is she?

Movement to his right. His gun came up as he saw a flick of shadow against the light at the end of the alley.

'Stay here.' He ran off after the fleeing shape, but heard Agnes groan and stagger to her feet and follow him. At the end of the alley they paused again.

'She's good,' said Dorac. 'Nowhere to be seen.'

Agnes appeared beside him, but checked their back just in case. Nancy was fast and seemed to know the place better than they did.

'Ow,' said Agnes as the medical AI started closing her wound. Then she grabbed Dorac and thrust him against the alley wall. She pointed back to the pile of soil.

It was moving. A rock near the far end fell down the slope to fetch up against another boulder with a dull clunk. Smaller pebbles and grains writhed in a brief flurry. A hand emerged and then a figure rose up, soil tumbling off it. It turned and ran along the alley away from them.

'Nancy!' Dorac called, shoving Agnes away and running after her with his gun levelled on her back.

The figure halted and looked over its shoulder. A black form against the dull light at the far end of the alley.

'Nancy, stop!'

He halted a few metres away. The woman's blonde hair was caked with lunar dust that continued to fall from her body. In her right hand was a short rifle, but she didn't try to aim it.

'Who are you?' she asked.

Agnes came up behind Dorac, her gun held in her left hand. 'Pretty fancy shooting, buried in the soil like that,' she said. The medical AI had finished on her shoulder and scuttled to lurk near her belt where it could monitor any further injuries and act accordingly.

Dorac indicated with his free hand for her to be quiet. 'Nancy, we know you killed the Nuncio.'

The woman shrugged. 'So Franco did talk.'

'Yes.'

'I killed Franco too."

He saw the woman's eyes as she moved slightly against the light and added, 'I don't blame you for that. The guy was a snitch.'

'So why are you after me?'

'Well you did try to blow us up for one,' said Agnes.

Dorac felt the lunar dust sink into his boots: the stuff was insidious, clinging onto clothing with microscopic roughness. His sinuses were swollen with the stuff, so he was unable to smell it now, but he could feel its grit in his eyes. He couldn't imagine how Nancy had endured burying herself in it for the few minutes they had clambered up and down the pile. She must be feeling the coarse grains under her clothes, rubbing her flesh raw. But she showed nothing.

'I don't trust you.'

He didn't blame her; the woman had never been allowed to trust anyone in her life. No parents, no family, just the Syndicate. It would drive anyone crazy.

'Look, people give me the shits too. Damn it, I give me the shits sometimes. But we know you were connected with Stefan Rix. We know it was he who sent the world to crap. We have to take you in.'

She was fast. Raising her rifle and aiming would have taken too long; even shooting from the hip was going to risk a miss. Instead, Dorac had to shut his eyes as a cloud of dust rose from the ground at Nancy's feet. In the low gravity it didn't move quite as it would have on Earth, but the choking cloud was enough to obscure his vision for a couple of seconds.

When he opened his eyes again Nancy was gone.

'Come on!' he yelled and ran to the far end of the alley. In the street outside he spied Nancy bounding along towards an open area. He followed, using the loping lunar run, but his extra mass meant he had to focus more on landing than the fleet blonde woman he pursued. In a few seconds Nancy had turned a corner.

Dorac and Agnes followed. The street was a mall, paved and well-lit even at this time of night. The town of Tranquillity was a tourist trap, of course, having its historical connections with the Apollo 11 landing. This mall had a few late-night people still abroad, full as it was with coffee shops and cinemas and the NASA Museum, which was closed at the moment but a great drawcard in the day for those who felt an interest in Mankind's first tentative steps off its planet.

On the steps of the museum were two figures. Dorac halted, Agnes drawing up beside him. It was Nancy all right, partially hidden by a pillar. There was no mistaking that long sweep of blonde hair. She had her rifle pressed against the head of a young man who she held by the collar. Nearby café patrons were crowding back, already contacting police on their fones, but none trying to advance towards the two figures outside the museum.

A stand-off. Nancy wasn't stupid. She had some plan—maybe she'd planted a bomb in the mall somewhere, maybe even in the museum itself. An explosion in there would create plenty of distraction for her to get away. The hostage was just a fill-in for the main event.

His second index finger drummed on the trigger-guard of his pistol. When they'd been designed, Sirians had been given that extra finger to make them more dextrous, and the index finger was chosen because it was the strongest and the closest to the opposable thumb. It meant that a grip could be made with the thumb while maintaining a