Jane was waiting at the terminus station just inside Harper's Wall when the carriage from Dilchester arrived.

     It passed right through the outer circle of the city along Lendaron Street without stopping, as it was carrying aristocrats and they couldn't be exposed to the great unwashed common folk. The peasantry did occasionally take carriages to other cities around Saxony, if they could afford the extravagent fares, but not this carriage. This carriage was painted in black and gold and the driver and his two crossbow wielding guards were dressed in splendid, colourful uniforms with hats that sported white swan feathers. There were curtains of crimson velvet in the windows and the seats were padded with embroidered cushions of duck feathers. Any person of substance would quail at the thought of the common folk desecrating this beautiful carriage with their sweaty, dusty clothes and filling the delicate ears of its passengers with their coarse, uncouth language. No, they could take one of the lesser carriages that travelled the narrow, winding roads of Saxony. This one was reserved for the rich. The second tier of the city's populace. The top tier, of course, the Barons and the most powerful of the city's businessmen, had carriages of their own and a small army of guards to see that it came to no harm.

     Jane watched as one of the guards climbed carefully down from his high seat beside the driver and open the door for the passengers. The first to emerge was a man in his thirties dressed in red, that being the fashionable colour at the moment. He was holding a handkerchief to his face as he stepped delicately down onto the crushed gravel of the street, and the cape that hung down his back sported an emblem Jane recognised, identifying him as a member of the Jolden family. A rather junior member if the thin and unimpressive gold necklace he was wearing was any indication. He held out a hand for his wife to help her disembark and their young son jumped down after them, his belted hat held in one hand. "Put your hat on, Edmund," said the woman, frowning sternly. "It's unbecoming to show a bare head in public." The boy obeyed with a grimace of distaste.

     Another passenger climbed carefully out behind them, an important looking businessman in a matching coat, waistcoat and breeches followed by a rather less important looking assistant, and then came the woman that Jane was waiting for. Emily Turner, dressed in the finery of a minor aristocrat with a long, flowing dress and a wide brimmed hat to which a cockerel's red tail feather was pinned at a jaunty angle. She had a blue veil over her face signifying in the complicated code of Saxony's dress protocol that she was unmarried but not looking for a husband.

     Jane stepped forward to meet her. She was wearing her best clothes but they paled in comparison to the garb of an aristocrat. The other passengers pointedly avoided looking at her, probably assuming that she was a family servant come to greet her mistress. They were making their way to smaller horse drawn carriages that we're waiting across the street to collect them and take them to their mansions.

     "Emily," said Jane uncertainly. The last time they'd been face to face Emily had been fighting Randall and Loach while Jane had stood by, watching. Did she harbour resentment towards her for not joining the battle on her side? Jane was uncomfortably aware that the other woman had been a terrorist and a murderer in her original life. She would have little trouble killing her if she decided that it had to be done.

     Emily smiled, though, and held out a gloved hand. Jane took it thankfully, wondering whether she should do a little curtsy for the benefit of the people in the street who could see them. Should she put on an act of being a servant for their benefit? To avoid suspicion? Blow that, she decided. I am a servant of God, not a servant of this hateful sinner whose presence I only endure because it serves a higher purpose. Let the people wonder. Who cares?

     "Jane,"  said Emily pleasantly, as if she were greeting an old and dearly beloved friend. "So good to see you again. It seems like years."

     She was right, Jane realised. It seemed impossible that only a few weeks had passed since they'd woken up in their hibernation cubicles. It seemed more as if she'd spent a lifetime in this new world. "You seem to have done well for yourself," she said.

     "The priests are very appreciative of my efforts to find you," replied Emily. "Even though I've been unsuccessful so far. As far as they know, of course. They've arranged for me to stay with a certain Duke Latimer for the duration of my stay in this city. The good Duke is glad of the chance to earn the favour of the priesthood. Do you happen to know where I can find him?"

     "He's out of the city at the moment. Gone off with Randall and Loach to dig up a hoard of gold." Both women smiled with cynical amusement.

     "It won't be long now, then," said Emily. "A couple of days, maybe three. Then they'll be starting up their transmitter and beaming yama666 all across the solar system."

     "So it seems."

     "I need to be out there, so I can kill them and take over when they've taken over."

     "You got any plans on how you're going to do that? They've got a small army with them and Loach is dangerous enough all by himself."

     "He's still just a man. A knife through the heart'll kill him the same as any other man." She reached inside her dress and produced a slim, six inch dagger. It's edge gleamed evilly in the light of the evening sun. Emily tucked it away before anyone else saw it. "Just let me get close enough to him."

     Jane felt a shiver of fear running through her at this casual reminder of the other woman's true nature. She suddenly felt very small and vulnerable standing this close to her. At any moment, Emily might decide that Jane was more of a threat than an asset, and if that happened there would be no change of expression on her face as the knife buried itself in her chest. Emily would then just dump her body somewhere and immediately forget that she had ever existed. God will protect me, she reminded herself. He will not let me come to harm.

     "I expect you'll want to check in at the Latimer mansion before you go out there," she said. "Otherwise they'll get worried and before you know it the priests will have the whole city looking for you."

     Emily nodded. "Annoying, but you're right, and I'll probably have to spend the night as their guest, but first thing tomorrow I'm going out there. I need to size up the situation and see what needs to be done. So, which way is it?"

     "The mansion? That way," said Jane, pointing towards the centre of the city. "The biggest mansion in the city. Any cab'll take you right to it."

     Emily nodded. Ideally she would have preferred to walk, but no aristocrat went anywhere on their own feet. There would be no better way to attract unwanted attention. "Are you still staying in the same place? I may want to keep in touch."

     Jane nodded. "Loach's place, The Halls of Valhalla, but you can't go there. Loach may have given your description to his men. Better if you send a pigeon. Send a pigeon to my window like you did before and I'll go to that park over there." She pointed to a fenced off area of greenery visible at the end of the street. "We can sit on a park bench and talk, but I don't think you'll have to. When you go to Elmhardy Farm tomorrow, I'll be going with you."

     Emily nodded. She would have preferred to go alone but Jane's company was probably unavoidable. Never mind, she might turn out to be useful.

     "See you back here tomorrow then," she said. She looked at the clock tower on top of the terminus building. "Say about nine?"

     "Nine fifteen," said Jane. "There's a carriage for Meldy Fair leaving then. It passes within a mile of Elmhardy Farm. We can hop off when we're closest."

     "Nine fifteen then."

     The two women nodded to each other and then went their separate ways, Emily to hail a horse drawn cab and Jane to walk back to The Halls of Valhalla.

☆☆☆

     At about the same time that Jane was greeting Emily in the city, Randall's expedition was arriving at Elmhardy Farm.

     A farmer stared in bemusement and alarm as the column of men and wagons moved majestically along the narrow, deeply rutted mud road and turned right, through the wide gate, onto his land. A dog came bounding over to bark madly at them but the soldiers ignored it as they fanned out to search the farm for threats.

     "Ere, what are you doing?" demanded the farmer, striding over and brandishing a knobbly walking stick at them. "Get orf moi land!"

     "You are master Ezra Goode?" said Duke Latimer, coming forward to confront him.

     The farmer went white with shock as the aristocrat appeared in his path, standing tall and regal like a judge about to deliver a death sentence. He visibly wilted, like a deflating balloon, and swept the cloth cap from his head, twisting it in his hands. "I... I am, your honour. What's going on? I ain't done nothing!"

     "Of course you haven't. We are buying your farm." He beckoned an underling forward, a younger man in a neatly tailored but unimpressive coat, waistcoat and breeches. He produced a pouch of coins which he held out to the farmer.

     "Fifty crowns," said the Duke. "Ten crowns more than the farm is worth. You can buy another farm somewhere and still have some coin left over for a few little luxuries. All you have to do is load up a wagon with everything you hold precious and be off this land before sunset."

     The farmer stared in shock, then looked around at the dozens of people setting themselves up on the farm, starting the process of unpacking and erecting tents. Then he carefully reached out a hand towards the pouch as if afraid he was being lured into a trap. He snatched it, then scampered towards the ruined farm buildings and out of sight.

     Randall headed towards the place where he'd found the helicopter landing pad on his first visit. It was easy to find, the holes he'd dug in the hummocky grass were still there. He beckoned three of the Duke's men over to join him. "I need the large marquee put up here," he said. "To cover this whole area of ground."

     "Why?" asked the foreman. "Is it going to rain?"

     Randall looked up into the sky. VIX wasn't visible at the moment, but it wouldn't be long before the machine god was in a position to look down on what they were doing and it would be pretty obvious that they weren't digging an underground barracks. He didn't dare make the machines suspicious now, not when he was so close to his objective. The marquee would cover the whole site, make it impossible for an orbital spy satellite to see what they were really doing.

     "Who knows?" he said, "but since we've got the marquee we might as well use it."

     "But it's a wedding marquee! Why would they Duke allow it to be used for this?"

    "Just do as the man said," said the Duke, coming over to join them. "Put up the marquee here."

     The man tugged a foredeck and took his men back to the wagon where it was stored.

     "This whole area of ground will have to be cleared away," said Randall. "There's a layer of devil rock about three feet down. It needs to be cleared off because that's probably where the elevator shaft is."

     "An Elly vater shaft?" said the Duke.

     "Like a dumb waiter, but bigger. Big enough for people to ride in. It's how they got down to the underground vault. It won't work any more, but if we can find the shaft and open it up we can lower ourselves down on ropes. This is its most likely location, but if we uncover the whole area of devil rock and it's not here there's another place we can try,"

     "Where?"

      "A little way over there."

     "Why not dig in both places at the same time? We've got enough men."

     Because Randall couldn't think of another plausible reason for wanting the helicopter landing pad uncovered. "Because there's no point wasting manpower when this is the most likely spot. If it's not here and we do end up having to dig over there you will have my most humble and sincere apologies."

     Duke Latimer bared his teeth in a cynical smile. He was suspicious, Randall knew. He had a very good idea that Randall was up to something he hadn't told him about. Fortunately, this expedition represented a trivial expenditure of time and resources for him and so he was willing to play along for the time being, safe in the knowledge that, no matter how things turned out, he would lose virtually nothing of any real value. Randall would reveal his true intentions in time, the Duke would be thinking. The Duke would decide what he would do with him when that time came.

     In the meantime it was getting dark as evening approached. "Might as well lend a hand getting the tents up," Randall said to Loach. "The sooner they're up, the sooner we can get cosy for the night."

     Loach nodded, and the two men went over to where his men were unloading poles and canvas from the wagons.