'What do you want from me, Leon?'

'You know what, Jack? I don't know. To be honest, I'm beginning to wonder.'

He'd almost reached the tunnel when he heard Greywolf say in a low voice, 'Leon! Don't go.'

MEMORIES

Johanson couldn't keep his eyes open. The late-night session in the lab had taken its toll. He was stationed in front of the monitors at the control desk, while Oliviera synthesised batches of yrr-pheromone in the containment facility. They were planning to release some of the chemical into the tank. There wasn't much sign of the collective, just swarms of amoebas clouding the water. The jelly seemed to have disaggregated and the glow had gone. By adding the synthesised pheromone, they were hoping to induce the yrr to aggregate so that they could carry out more tests.

Maybe, thought Johanson, we should experiment with one of Crowe's messages to see if the collective responds.

His head was throbbing and he knew what was causing it. It wasn't a question of working too hard or sleeping too little. His brain was aching from the memories trapped inside.

Ever since the meeting that morning the pain had got worse. His internal slide projector was back in action, triggered by a remark Li had made. The short sequence of words had expanded to occupy his mind and prevent him focusing. Johanson's head lolled back as he slipped into a doze, caught in a perpetual loop of Li's words.

We mustn't be too hasty. Mustn't be too hasty. Mustn't. . .

He heard noises and woke briefly, blinked in the lights of the lab, then closed his eyes again.

Mustn't be too hasty.

DARKNESS.

The hangar deck.

A sound like grating metal. He jolts awake. For a fleeting moment he can't remember where he is. Then he feels the steel side of the vessel in the small of his back. The sky is brightening above the sea. He sits up, and glances at the bulkhead.

A door stands wide open, luminous in the gloom, spilling light into the hangar. Johanson stands up. He must have been sitting there for hours – or so his aching joints tell him. He moves slowly towards the rectangle of light. He can see now that it's a passageway with plain walls on either side and neon lights above. It extends a few metres, then stops and turns right.

Johanson peers through the door and listens.

Voices and noises. He takes a step back.

Indecision.

Mustn't be too hasty. Don't be hasty.

He hesitates. Then a barrier bursts open.

He enters. Nothing but plain walls, then the change in direction. He follows the passageway round to the right. It turns again, this time to the left. It's spacious in here – wide enough to drive a car. The voices and noises return, this time more loudly. They must be close, just round the second bend. He draws nearer, then a sharp left turn, and…

The lab.

No, not the lab. A lab. Smaller, with a lower ceiling. But it's above the converted vehicle deck, where the deep-sea chamber is located. This lab has a chamber too, a much smaller one. And there's something glowing inside it; a blue thing with tentacles.

He looks around in disbelief.

The whole room is a small but perfect copy of the one beneath it. Rows of benches, pieces of equipment, barrels of liquid nitrogen. A control desk and monitors. An electron microscope. Across the room, a biohazard symbol marks a reinforced door, and at the back of the lab a narrow passageway leads inside the ship.

Three people are standing next to the chamber. They're talking, unaware of the intruder. The two men have their backs to him, but the woman is standing in profile, scribbling something on a pad. Her gaze shifts between the two men, then round the room and settles on Johanson.

Her jaw drops, and the men spin round. He recognises a guy from Vanderbilt's team. No one knows what he does – the usual CIA story.

The second is Rubin.

Johanson is too bewildered to do anything but stare. He sees the shock in Rubin's eyes, sees him searching for a way to save the situation. And it's that look that rouses Johanson from his paralysis as it dawns on him that his work is a charade. He's being used. He, Oliviera, Anawak, Weaver, Crowe…

Unless Rubin isn't the only one acting more than one part.

Why?

Rubin approaches slowly. His lips are tensed into a smile. 'Sigur! Goodness me, can't you sleep either?'

Johanson's eyes are wandering round the room, taking in the other faces. One look into their eyes confirms that he doesn't belong here. 'What's all this about, Mick?'

'Oh, nothing, it's just…'

'What is this place? What's going on?'

Rubin draws himself up to his full height. 'I can explain everything, Sigur. You see, we weren't really planning to use the extra lab. It's only here for emergencies – in case anything… Well, in case anything happens to the main one. We've just been inspecting the systems to make sure it's ready, so-'

Johanson points to the organism in the chamber. 'But you've got that in there.'

'Oh, you mean the jelly.' Rubin's head swivels round and then back. 'That's, er, well, we had to check it out. Just to be certain. We didn't mention it because, well, there was really no need, I mean…'

Nothing but lies.

Johanson may not he totally sober, but that doesn't prevent him noticing that Rubin is trying to talk himself out of a hole.

He turns and strides towards the exit.

'Sigur! Dr Johanson!' He hears footsteps behind him. Rubin comes alongside him. His fingers tug at Johanson's sleeve. 'Slow down, Sigur.'

' What's going on here?'

'It's not like you think. I-'

'How would you know what I think?'

'It's just a precaution.'

'A what?'

'A precaution. The lab is just a precaution.'

Johanson jerks himself free. 'Perhaps I should talk to Li about it.'

'No, I-'

'Or maybe I should tell Oliviera. Actually, maybe I should tell the whole damn team. What do you think, Mick? Is this some kind of game?'

'Of course not.'

'Then perhaps you should tell me what the hell you're up to!'

Rubin's eyes are filled with panic. 'Sigur, I don't think that's wise. You mustn't be too hasty. Do you hear me, Sigur? Don't do anything hasty.'

Johanson gives an indignant snort and marches off. He can hear Rubin hurrying after him. He feels the other man's fear on his back.

Mustn't be too hasty.

White light.

Something explodes in his eyes, and pain washes over his mind. The walls, the passageway, everything blurs. He sees the ground rush towards him.

THE CEILING OF THE LAB. It had all fallen into place.

Johanson jumped up. Oliviera was still busy in the containment facility. Breathing deeply, he glanced at the control desk, the benches, the chamber. He looked up at the ceiling.

Above him there was a second laboratory. And no one was meant to know. Rubin must have knocked him out, and they'd drugged him to make him forget.

But why?

Johanson clenched his fists. He felt helpless and furious. Then he was outside, running up the ramp.

WELL DECK

'You don't need me at the meetings,' said Greywolf 'It's not like I can help.'

Anawak's fury ebbed away. He turned and walked back. The basin was still filling with water. 'That's not true, Jack.'

'It is.' He said it in a neutral, almost absent voice. 'I couldn't stop the navy torturing dolphins. I tried to stick up for the whales, but now no one can save them. In my mind I'd decided that animals were better than people. It was stupid, I know, but it was one way of coping. And now I've lost Licia to an orca. I can't help anyone.'