Despite the nervousness in The Pit, the Disciples milled around in a semblance of their normal, carefree manner. The music was back on, the faux parties in full swing, minus the stimulants. Word had been coming in from the spotters that there was a T-4 escort shadowing the two transport choppers.

“Does that mean an attack?” I asked Cody from our hidden position under the steel wall.

“I doubt they would bother sending the troops along if they wanted to blow us up,” he replied.

“Good point.” I pressed transmit on the small radio in my hand. “Rhys?”

“Yes, Mark?”

“Do you have anything that can take out the T-4s? I know you said heavy artillery, but these things are lethal.”

“They’re already deployed on the wall. Reb’s in command, waiting on your order to engage.”

Reb was the nickname for the ex-soldier in charge. Rhys had explained he had served as a lieutenant commander in the navy until the powder had gotten its hooks into him. I’d mentioned a strung out coke-head might not be the best person to rely on, only to be told he was now sober and ready. “When we spring our trap, then you can fire. Try and take them out at the same time if you can.”

“That’s the plan, sir,” said Reb over the radio. “I expect they’ll take up a holding pattern at varying distances and altitudes, though. They won’t line up for our convenience.”

Of course they wouldn’t. This wasn’t a game. “Do the best you can, Reb.”

“Aye, sir. Out.”

Casualties were now all but guaranteed. I didn’t feel any guilt whatsoever, and I wondered if that was my changing outlook or the fact these people needed to atone for their sins. Even if they had no idea yet what they were actually dying for, it might lend some balance when they stood before the pearly gates.

Rhys stepped out into the cleared space, struck a flare, and tossed it into the mud. Red fire crackled from the tip, sending a drifting cloud of smoke toward the cathedral. Our decoys were all bound and hooded, standing beneath a well-lit porch nearby. They had tried to act scared, shaking and moaning, but it looked too forced so they were told to dial it back. I’d kitted them in some of our spare clothing, just in case the CID had a general idea of what we’d been wearing at the black site. I had to commend Rhys on his selections; from the neck down they were carbon copies of our body shapes.

Over the throb of the music’s bass, I felt the air pressure subtly change. Off in the distance, the lead T-4 appeared in the darkness, visible only to me. “Here we go,” I said over the radio. “Everyone be ready.”

The parties started to wind down and the revellers shuffled out to watch the arrival of the CID. I made sure our silkweb sets were hiding us as well as they could while the attack choppers roared overhead in a flypast. Reb’s people manoeuvred their weapons covertly beneath the tarps and other rubbish they had dragged up to add cover. What little dust there was blew in a whirling maelstrom that followed the flight path of the T-4s. In the brief lull, one of the transports passed over the wall and began to slowly drop towards our marked zone.

“Why’s the other one not coming in?” I asked Cody.

“I don’t know,” he said with a scowl.

The craft was a larger version of Cody’s stolen transverse rotor helicopter. It reached about three feet from the ground, and stayed put. I was shielding my face from the buffeting winds, waiting for them to make the final drop and touch down. Instead, the door rolled open and a soldier hopped down, unarmed. He reached inside the belly of the chopper and dragged out a large, metallic box. Gently placing it next to the flare, he jumped up and climbed aboard.

“What the fuck?” I whispered as the door slammed and the pilot gunned it.

The entire fleet dispersed, flying out across the city, leaving us in stunned shock.

“That’s not good,” said Sun, mirroring my own thoughts.

Now that I could see properly again, I felt my heart skip a beat. It was exactly the same type of case I’d found in the scorpion nest. My first instinct was to open fire on it and blow the hell out of whatever creature it contained. Reason won the day, and anything that was lurking within would be no real threat to us unless we left it alone for a few days or weeks while it grew and bred.

“Careful,” warned Cris, as I slowly moved towards it.

“What happened?” asked Rhys, jogging over, dust clinging to his expensive suit.

“They must’ve known something was off. Could they pick up our shortrange signal?”

“Not a chance. This stuff has military grade encryption. Beyond that, even.”

“Provided by Milley?” I asked.

“I’d already thought of that, but no. This was a private deal made between Ripper and some clever geeks who he paid an awful lot of money, precisely so we could keep our dealings private.”

“The CID might’ve cracked it?”

“It’s possible, but I honestly doubt it. These kids knew what would happen to them if anyone could bypass their work. They were shown film.”

I looked up at the sky. They must’ve been watching, it was the only other explanation. That opened the question of why they hadn’t just fragged us back into the Jurassic era, rather than leave the ominous package. I gave the unseen observers the finger, and continued towards the container. A small fan whirred on the back of the case, chilling the contents.

“More scorpions?” asked Cody as he joined me.

“Unless they’re psycho-killer-scorpions-from-hell, what would be the point? They’ll be tiny.”

“A bomb then?” asked Cris. She knew the reality as well as I did. There were far easier ways to explode something than going to the trouble of dropping off a mysterious package under full attack chopper escort.

Something clicked within the casing and a small section of the lid snapped open, causing us all to jump back. Nothing shiny and black scuttled out to sting us. I took another tentative step forward, just as a valve inside opened, spraying a mist out into the surrounding air.

“Nerve gas!” I snapped, dragging everyone back.

We took a full hit, and I took an involuntary breath in shock. I readied my potions and skill for the inevitable, gut-tearing agony of poisoning. When I didn’t collapse, coughing up my liquefied lungs, I studied the smell that clung to me. It was a musky, vanilla type scent, hardly noticeable at all without really concentrating on it.

“They went to all that trouble to spray us with bad perfume?” asked Cris, sniffing at the droplets clinging to her wrist.

Jessop had joined us and gently lifted Cris’s arm toward his nose. “I don’t think this is a perfume,” he said, staring around fearfully.

“What is it then, Professor?” I asked.

“If I were to guess, based on studies carried out over the years and the faint smell I can detect, I’d say it seems to be a pheromone.”

I frowned at him. “A pheromone? Like the stuff men and women give off that we can’t detect, but makes us attracted to one another?”

“Yes. It can be in our sweat, our saliva, and pardon my crudeness young ladies, but bodily secretions too. It’s normally in such small concentrations that it’s undetectable to the human olfactory system. We pick it up on an almost subconscious basis. This is in a large enough quantity to be detectable.”

“So Milley wants us all to have sex? Death by orgy?” I asked. “I won’t lie, Professor, I’m not feeling particularly horny.”

“Didn’t you say those samples you had were from pulmonoscorpius kirktonensis?”

“Kirk-what?”

“Extinct, prehistoric scorpions!” he blurted, growing frustrated.

“Yeah. Big fuckers.”

“Oh dear,” he moaned, turning around on the spot, scanning the city night.

“What is it?” His look of horror transferred itself onto me, and I felt a shiver track down my spine.

“Don’t you see? It’s not just humans that have pheromones. Almost every species uses them, be they animal, reptile, or…”

“Insect,” I gasped.

“Exactly.”

“We need to get cleaned up!” I barked at Rhys. “Now! Bring any soap and disinfectant you can find!”

I made for the luxury home, but Jessop was rooted to the spot. “It won’t make any difference. Some species can sense a few nanograms from miles away. The amount released will be spreading far and wide, unseen.”

“Spraying a few cans of air freshener wouldn’t help?” I asked, beginning to scan the night too.

“They would still sense it through the fragrance. Their antennae’s binding proteins would pick up the molecules regardless. Imagine a shark sensing a drop of blood. It doesn’t matter that it’s diluted with water, mixed with salt and other chemicals.”

I had an image of Sharknado play out, the carnivore-laden tempest bringing death and destruction onto The Pit. I’d killed one of the things in Kherrash, and I’d kill a thousand more if I needed to. It was unlikely, however, that Lake had harnessed both the weather, and the secrets of genetic engineering. If he had, we were in real trouble.

“I’m not seeing anything,” said Cody, peering through his night-sighted scope.

The night all around us remained still, apart from the shuffle of nervous energy as hundreds of people looked for a threat.

“Professor, do you think they might’ve got the mix wrong?” I asked.

His neck craned upward, and I looked in the same direction. Three huge containers were dropping from the sky, a set of quadruple parachutes anchored at each corner. The fabric fluttered as it slowed the descents of the cargo. High above, I could just make out the flashing lights of a plane as it flew away.

Before anyone could react, the payload thudded to the ground about half a mile away, the sounds of impact carrying across the night.

“This ain’t good,” I mumbled, as the echoing thuds were followed by the hiss of releasing hydraulics.