Pilot Ada Lovelace the twenty-second – it had taken a while to perfect the cellular propagation – pulled the throttle back, powering down the steam thrusters and stood to attention as the controller automaton interfaced with her neurophage. Instructions and love letters fluttered into appropriate receptacles. At last she ordered: “Full steam ahead, the machines will do the dirty work.” and with that she punched the knob, making Sorath scream with agony. Slowly the carriage started moving again.

“The chronotracers will find us soon. We have to leave. Now!” urged Alba and then her face contorted as the waves of Sorath’s pain disrupted their people-song.

The three raced through the workshop, Lou grabbing a tool belt and a new apron. This one read “Sophisticated, seductive, complex and full-bodied (the wine’s not bad either)”. At the far end she threw down a couple of switches and pushed a giant spanner between two whirring cogs. “That should keep them a while!” and shoved her companions into the escape pod.