She shook her head silently.

'I think it would be a good idea.'

The little girl reached into a pocket of her dress and held something out to Chris. 'He said I could stay. He said you might need this.'

Chris reached out for the object. It was a book. No. It was a Filofax. Jim Allen's Filofax.

The little girl said, 'I took it from a bag in the motor car before you went to the mountains. I didn't mean to do anything bad. I was just interested.'

Chris sighed. He picked the girl up and bounced her on his shoulder. 'Little girl, I think you may just have saved my life. Among others.' He sat down in the deckchair, the child perched on the back of his neck, gripping double handfuls of his thick blond hair and grinning' madly. Chris began to input commands. Not as fast as I'd seen the Doctor operate a computer but fast nonetheless. I was ignored, both by him and the little girl.

'Pa.s.sword,' he muttered obsessively. 'Pa.s.sword, pa.s.sword, pa.s.sword.'

The little girl took up the chant as well. A few minutes pa.s.sed.

Nothing.

I took the Filofax from him, held it out to the girl. 'Did he tell you about a special page?'

She smiled. Nodded.' Took the book. It fell open at a page held by a bookmark.

The page was empty.

Chris sighed. 'Back to the pa.s.sword program I suppose.' 'Maybe not.'

The little girl was holding out the bookmark. It was a cheap novelty thing: a thin strip of card cut into the shape of a houseboat at the top. The boat had windows. A giraffe was sticking its head out of one window.

Chris grinned. He tapped the bookmark. 'That's it.' He typed in: FLOOD.

Nothing.

In rapid succession he tried, DAY OF FLOOD, NOAH, ARK, DOVE, RAVEN, OLIVE, OLIVE BRANCH, ARARAT, MOUNTAIN and G.o.d.

Nothing.

Now it was my turn to grin. I had been looking at the little cardboard bookmark and I'd had an idea. I reached over his shoulder and typed: GIRAFE.

Nothing. I swore?

Then the little girl reached down and corrected my spelling. GIRAFFE.

It was like magic. The files opened up. A torrent of data surged across the screen, so fast I couldn't follow a tenth of it, downloading into the laptop's memory. The little machine bleeped almost constantly?

Chris was whirling the little girl around his head. Even I was smiling. Then I stopped, because I had a sudden picture of the Doctor, sitting in the TARDIS, maybe light years or centuries away, but still with that knowing expression I was coming to hate? He'd known this was going to happen.

He'd known because he'd set it all up. The kid. The Filofax. Me. Chris.

Benny.

He'd used us all?

No, worse than that: he made use of us all, our interests, our relationship, our presence here in Turkey. He'd used us the way ... the way Chris had used the laptop.

As if we were tools.

I rubbed the back of my neck. I was getting a headache.

I was getting angry again as well. Very angry.

Then I thought of even my anger being planned for and I became even more annoyed.

Chris put the girl down and she ran off to play. He leant over the laptop, fingers flicking at the keyboard.

He began to pull up files.

I let out a breath, tried to make my thoughts sound rational, sensible, convincing. 'Chris, the Doctor's just using us. He does it to everyone. I should know. I've done it myself. You must see that. Look, we have to go back for Bernice. It's important. To me.'

Chris smiled uneasily. I could almost see him backing off. It was as if he was scared of me? Like he was running away from something? The truth. I thought about my experiences on Deneb and found myself angry again?

What right did Chris have to treat me like a punter?

Chris shook his head, a little uneasily. He pointed at the laptop. 'I'm getting some important stuff here.'

'I don't care!' 'You should care.'

Despite myself I leant closer to study the files he had pulled up on to the screen.

The first showed a number of aerial photographs. 'Those look like the satellite photos Raelsen claimed showed the location of the Ark on Mahser Dagi.'

Chris shook his head? 'Uh huh. This is a NASA file. It was taken from a shuttle in high orbit. Uh ... nineteen ninety-nine by the look of it.'

'Really?'

'Yeah. And that's not all.' Chris input commands. The high-res aerial shot peeled away layer by layer. 'It's been doctored.'

'Look, so some Patrick Moore type has been playing with his Corel Draw program in his lunch break. So what?'

Chris shook his head impatiently. 'You don't get it. Look.' The picture changed again? This time it was overlaid with a series of lines, like a contour map. The lines emanated from two points. One on Mahser Dagi, one on Ararat. I was beginning to see a picture I didn't like.

Chris said, 'These lines represent magnetic-field strength. Something big is buried under both those mountains. Something the Iraqis and the Iranians both think is uranium.'

'Are you telling me it's not?' 'Absolutely. It's not missiles either.' 'I don't get it. What is it then?'

'I don't know. But look. There's a file cross-reference here. The file name is Tranquillity.' Chris pulled up another geological map overlaid with lines of magnetic force: These lines were much more intense. 'I don't recognize the country.'

'That's because it's not on Earth. It's a shot of the Moon. Taken from the same shuttle mission which photographed Raelsen's Ark. A mission commanded by James Edward Allen.'

I bit my lip. 'They knew? NASA knew something was going on here? They sent him here?'

Chris shook his head. 'Maybe. Look here. Two more things. First is a launch schedule for the last three years. See? Regular flights? Normal cargos.'

'Supplies for the COOP Moonbase? The weather base.' 'No. They're listed elsewhere. Now look here. You see? The schedule changes. Suddenly, two years ago, the flights are accelerated. They're being brought forward.

The date of the change is less than two months after the date on these orbital shots. And look here. The next mission, the one scheduled for this month. Look at the cargo.'

I looked. ' "Experimental rabbits". So?'

Chris sighed. 'Three tons? That's a lot of rabbits.' I sighed. 'What's all this got to do with -'

'Bear with me. It's important. Look at the schedule from next month on.'

I shrugged. 'The flights have all been cancelled.'

'Exactly. Now who in their right minds takes three tons of experimental animals to the Moon and then brings back the only personnel there to experiment on them?'

'You tell me.' 'n.o.body does.' 'So?'

'So they're not rabbits.' 'Well what are they then?'

Chris sighed. 'I don't know. Maybe it's something to do with the second thing I found.' He brought another file up. 'It's a whole bunch of numbers.

So what?'

'Not just any numbers. Orbital coordinates and references.' I waited. 'For the Moon.'

'Oh good. So we know where to find it next time we go looking.'

Chris ignored my sarcasm. 'Maybe not.' 'And why would that be then?'

'Because there's a wobble in the Moon's...o...b..t. Oh, not a great one, I'll grant you that. But it is significant - and according to these figures it's been there for nearly two hundred million years.'

I shrugged. 'So?'

Chris laughed. 'Jason, you don't just get a wobble in the orbit of something the size of the Moon. There has to be a cause.'

'Such as?'

'Ma.s.s reduction.'

'So it's feeding time for the great s.p.a.ce bunnies?' 'Or there's a singularity orbiting inside the Moon.' 'Which means?'

'Well, just for starters, how about the destruction of the Moon and the extinction of all life on the hemisphere of the Earth facing X-ray burst when it happens?'

I was quiet.

Chris shut down the file. 'Look, I know it's hard for you to leave Benny behind. But you must see that this is more important. It's why we have to go to America.'

'What?' I didn't know whether to laugh or scream. 'You said we could -'

'The situation has changed. These photos prove there's a connection between both Mahser Dagi and Ararat, and an unspecified location on the Moon. There may be a problem with the Moon. The last shuttle flight is in three days - and we have to be on it.'

Chris's voice oozed sympathy. I didn't want to know. 'You b.a.s.t.a.r.d. You promised me we'd go and get her. You're just like the Doctor, you know that? I thought we were friends. You won't even help me out. If you won't do it for me at least do it for her!'

Chris turned suddenly. His face was livid, his eyes wide. 'I couldn't do anything for her, all right? She was dead before I knew she was in danger!

You know she was, you came to the funeral! I've told you I can't do anything so why can't you just stop asking?'

I had never seen Chris like this. He stood there, every muscle bunched, fists as big as footb.a.l.l.s, face a rigid mask of pain? He quivered. It was scary. I backed away.

Chris watched me for a moment then without speaking, bent over his equipment and began to disa.s.semble it.

I watched him for a moment, angry, frightened, puzzled. What was the matter with him? I had never seen him like this, even at Roz's funeral. Had her death affected him more than we'd realized?

It didn't matter. I didn't care. He had his problems. Fine. I had mine too.

And mine were more important?

I backed slowly away from Chris, turned the comer and walked around the hotel. I couldn't decide what to do. I was utterly confused, shocked and angry? For all I knew the Doctor had planted the information or Chris was lying about it? I knew the big lunk would do anything the Doctor said. He was like a big puppy dog trotting around after his master. All I knew was that Bernice needed my help. I had to show her that I loved her and that all these stupid things she had said about me fancying other women simply weren't true. I loved her for Chrissakes. I had to show her that? I had to.

I reached the area where the Doctor had been playing with the children on my arrival at the hotel earlier that morning.

The place was empty now? Just a splotch of dirt with a scratching of gra.s.s baking in the early-afternoon sun. All that remained of the activity here were a few hundred footprints and a dog, who was scratching at a stick lying on the ground.

No. Not a stick. A rifle? The one the Doctor had been playing Jake-the-Peg with.

I picked it up. I hefted it. I wondered if it was loaded.

I walked back around the comer to where Chris had finished packing the equipment back into a kit bag? The Doctor's umbrella handle stuck out, a bright red question mark. It seemed to symbolize what was going on in my mind just then.

'Chris,' I said quietly. He looked up.

I pointed the gun at him.

'Sod the rabbits. We're going to rescue Bernice.'

Chapter 7.

Things were confused for a while after the helicopter left without me. I have vague recollections of walking at gunpoint across the mountainside. Dilaver was a cold weight in my arms but I couldn't let him go. My whole body ached and I was desperate for water but I felt none of this until later. I remember reaching the camp at Tendurek and being surrounded by Raelsen, Ellie n.o.ble, Ed Levinson and Terry Sehna. They were as surprised to see me alive as I was to see them, I think.

I have dim memories of the others being allowed to feed me and dress my wound again. Of Dilaver being taken from me. Of Tammuz being taken away and tied up against a rock. Of collapsing on to the ground and almost begging for a drink. Of telling them over and over again what had happened to Dot and Reefer, and the members of Jim Allen's expedition.