'You shit me.'

Dorac raised his eyebrows and said, 'I don't do it deliberately.'

Agnes squeezed the trigger of her plasma rifle and held it down until the magazine was empty. The target by that time was a most satisfactory mass of molten steel.

'You're not supposed to do it like that,' said Dorac, sniffing the air. 'The supervisors get mad if you destroy targets. Besides, you run the risk of over-heating the weapon.'

'I imagined the target was you.'

The AI at the far end of the firing range trundled out to put up another target. Agnes felt like shooting the AI too, but that really would be against the rules.

Dorac took his turn and fired one round. It hit slightly down and to the left. The next shot was dead centre.

'That's how it's done,' he said. 'Now I have ten shots left and you're empty. I win.'

'But you're already dead. See that pool of liquid metal? That's you.'

He stared at the melted target as if seeing it for the first time. 'If you want me to butt out, I will. But I do appreciate the help.'

Agnes secured her weapon and returned it to the rack behind the firing line. A fusillade of shots rang out from behind the right hand baffle as another patron of the range let loose with an automatic. After the noise had died down, she said, 'No. I have to admit you have me intrigued. But I think we're going to get killed.'

'Well you must have had fun in the Navy. Wasn't that always a possibility?'

She grunted and wiped her hands and face with a bandana. Another clatter of firing nearby and she gestured to the exit. Dorac secured his plasma gun and followed along. Outside the air was cooler and suddenly quieter. Agnes led the way to a small car and opened the doors. The shooting range was on route to the Trans-Atlantic Tunnel, but she'd felt like firing off a few rounds to make the next few hours cramped with Dorac in the vehicle a bit more bearable. She felt better already.

They climbed in, Agnes driving since it was her car. In the back was their luggage, but no weapons. They'd have to find some in Turkey if they needed them.

'Peter wasn't happy when I told him I'm going to Istanbul.' Her husband spent a lot of time away, but for some odd reason she missed him more when they were both on Earth but not actually together than when either of them was on another planet. 'We were going to have dinner together. First time in a month.' For a moment she thought Dorac was going to make some lewd remark about a romantic night in, but he simply nodded.

'Ask to be replaced by another agent from your firm, then.'

'No. I'm with you. But things are just...ah, forget it.'

They left the carpark and headed the eastern tip of Long Island, which was the entrance to the tunnel. They said nothing to each other while they went through security. The guards did the usual thing of looking twice at a large Sirian and a Sape woman almost his size together in the same small car, but let them through. No doubt they were by now the butt of a few jokes.

Agnes drove the car into the tunnel. There was a long line of vehicles and it took some time for each one to enter the air lock and be shunted into the vacuum tunnel. Before and behind them were other vehicles, locked electronically into the master AI which would guide the cars at two thousand kilometres an hour to wherever they wanted to go. When the request come up, Agnes dialled in Istanbul. It would only be necessary to be more specific about the destination when they were under Europe.

As they started off and built up speed, just a few metres behind the vehicle in front, Dorac touched the control to darken the windows of the car. They blacked out and left them in a tight cocoon of their own, with only the vehicle's internal lights to illuminate the space. Agnes felt even more stifled.

'Nothing to see anyway,' he said. He leaned over and nudged her arm. 'Besides, we might get tunnel vision!'

'That's fucking awful,' said Agnes.

'So tell me again who we're going to see in Istanbul?' He made a move towards his pocket.

'No smoking!' she sneered. 'Not if I'm spending the next six hours cooped up in here. I still outrank you, Lieutenant.' She pushed her seat back and thrust her feet as far forward as they could go.

'Aye, aye, Captain.' He refrained from snapping her a salute.

'We're going to Istanbul to find a guy who goes by the name of Franco. My boss, Grange, knows about him. He was a cop for a while, then got busted for drug trafficking. He was in prison for a number of years, and after that kicked around the seedier parts of the Middle East, making himself useful to people who needed weapons or drugs. He's wanted for murder on the Moon—he killed a police officer and two bystanders in a shoot-out when the Lunar Security Agency tried to arrest him for a string of petty crimes. He came to Earth, and has been living in Istanbul ever since. He's a source of information. Apparently he knows a lot about a lot of people. It'll be making him talk that'll be the hard part.'

She leaned the seat way back like it was her old reclining chair in her cabin on the Euryalus, as if she'd just finished a crew briefing.

'Anything else?'

'That's it. We'll have to find out the rest when we arrive.'

A beep from the dashboard was followed by an AI announcement. 'This is Tunnel Traffic Control. In five minutes this vehicle will be diverted to the East Mediterranean branch. If this is not your intended destination, please advise now.'

The change to the new tunnel was accomplished with nothing more than a slight jolt, followed immediately by a new announcement confirming the alteration. The countdown timer indicated it was another five and a half hours to Istanbul.

They could have flown to Turkey in a fraction of the time, of course, but Dorac had been insistent on this more clandestine approach under the Mediterranean. Agnes had acquiesced, given the fact he was still a wanted criminal travelling on a false identity and the authorities at airports were more thorough in their search for people like himself. If he was caught, it would go badly for her too, and the agency, and probably that would be the end not only of her new career, but also her marriage to Peter.

There were a lot of reasons to leave Dorac to sort this mess out for himself. She owed him no favours. And while she missed the naval life, there was enough excitement in her present job to make up for any need for adrenaline. It might be fun to get back into space, go somewhere with Peter on a second honeymoon, perhaps, but a hunch told her Dorac was onto something. The more they dug into this affair, the more it smelled. So she'd see it out, and damn the flak.

Another jolt woke her. The inside of the car was still dark, and Dorac was munching on some food and watching a movie projected on the windscreen.

'This vehicle is now in the Madrid /Rome/Athens/Istanbul sub-tunnel. Confirmation of final destination is required,' said the AI.

Dorac sent through the confirmation and held the box of food out. 'Want some?'

She helped herself to a sandwich and removed the tinting from the windows, leaving Dorac's movie still visible. Outside the tunnel looked the same as it had at the start: endless lights flicking overhead, smooth grey walls with the occasional opening from a service tunnel. There were several other vehicles visible ahead, and one behind. Between the roof lights advertisements displayed the delightful wares and services available in North Africa.

Visit the Museum of Antiquities in Naples.

Kemal's, the finest Moroccan cuisine! Bookings now available!

Your holiday isn't complete without a visit to Malta. Ludovic's Travel caters for all your Mediterranean excitement. Call MALTA33478749ɸ43♪.

A small single-seater motorcycle appeared beside her window. For a moment Agnes wondered if it was the police, chasing them down for some tunnel rule violation, or perhaps Dorac's false ID had been discovered. But there wasn't a cop mounted on the bike. In fact there was no one riding it at all. Through her window she saw a holovision display on the bike showing various small items. An AI voice intoned on the car's speaker: Cigarettes! Coffee! Models of the acropolis!

'Go away!' she called.

Dorac saw the display of cigarettes. 'Hey, over here!'

The motorbike dropped back for a second, swung to other side of the vehicle and accelerated back to level with Dorac's window, the exchange taking place through a specially designed tube between the bike and the car because of the vacuum in the tunnel.

The bike sped ahead to tackle the next vehicle. Dorac grinned. 'It's the only way to get rid of them,' he said to Agnes's cold stare. 'They'll just continue to pester you if you don't.'

'Shit.'

She finished her sandwich and checked for any messages. There were several from Peter, which she read guiltily. Then she learned he was off to Ganymede for a week on business and her guilt vanished. It seemed suspicious: maybe he was having an affair. Since she was off to Istanbul at a moment's notice with some strange man, perhaps...

No, that wasn't like Peter. It wasn't like her, either, so that was all right.

MISS YOU LOTS, she messaged back. WILL SEE YOU IN A WEEK. She hoped that was a likely estimate of the time. Peter had no idea of what was really taking her away, because if he did he wouldn't have been so magnanimous in letting her go. Now was certainly not the time to tell him.

There was another message from Grange at the security agency. He had done some further digging on the whole messy situation regarding the Nuncio's assassination, and had achieved a bit more than the police authorities. That was because the police had to obey the rules, whereas the agency could make use of any dirty, disreputable source they liked. And Grange liked a lot of them.

'Franco's full name is Francisco Eduardo Bail,' she read out from the file Grange had sent. 'He owns a bakery in Istanbul.'

'A bakery?'

'Even terrorists have to eat, I guess.'

'Maybe he'll give us lunch before we interrogate him.'

Dorac's jokes just kept getting worse. She ignored him and scanned the rest of the file.

'Franco's record means he's likely to shoot on sight. Or else he has friends who will. And he probably also has friends in that bakery to protect him.'

'We'll have to be sneaky then.'

'What are you going to ask him?'

'If he knows who killed the Nuncio. But I'm not sure he's going to be so happy to tell us. We have to make this up as we go.' He paused and actually made a motion of puffing on a cigarette with his hands. 'I don't really know what's going on.'

'Let's stop for a while. I need to pee.'

Dorac called up traffic control and requested a stopover at one of the comfort stations along the tunnel. They were guided out of the stream of traffic and pulled up at a small by-station. There were mercifully no human or electronic vendors in this section of the tunnel, and only one other person using the station. Access to the facilities required going through an airlock again, which would cut into their journey time a bit, but it was the only way they could exit the car.

After visiting the toilet, Agnes stood beside a window and watched the traffic go by while waiting for Dorac, who was making use of the gents not only for the usual purpose but to sneak one of his new cigarettes. He merged in a better mood, but stinking of tobacco.

'All aboard?' she asked.

'Let's just stretch for a bit. No offence, but that's a small car you have there.' He did a few arm swings.

'It's still about two hour hours to Istanbul. The agency's booked us a hotel. Separate rooms. This is turning out to be expensive.'

'My family's paying. We arranged that.'

'That's not what I meant. It could be expensive in other ways. What we're doing is fucking dangerous, Dorac.'

'I know. But you're still here.'

'For the time being. I just want you to know, if it looks like we're going to die, I'm pushing you in front.'

He grinned. 'If I don't do the same to you first.'

They climbed back into the car and re-joined the traffic towards Istanbul.