Two days later we caught sight of Milford Haven. The low grey landscape slid into view like it was sneaking home after a night out on the town, trying not to rattle the milk bottles and scare the cat. Gwen had been quiet and withdrawn since telling me her tale, I suppose I couldn’t blame her. She’d not be drawn on what our next move should be. To tell the truth I don’t think she knew herself. This struck me as a worrying development.

I started having paranoid thoughts she would dump me at the first convenient opportunity – far from convenient for me. I was less than no use to her and my presence painted big cross hairs on her back. She’d already saved my life more than once; why should I expect her to do so again? As we stood at the rail watching the muddy banks of the Cleddau estuary draw closer, like the jaws of some massive trap, Gwen seemed to sense my thoughts.

‘What are we going to do with you, Kev?’

‘I don’t know. I’d like to go home now. Back to the real Aberdare.’

She peered out at the mud flats slipping by. ‘I’m afraid it’s not that simple. Home is the first place they’ll look. You’ve got too many big players gunning for you.’

I didn’t like this talk of guns. ‘Can’t I go back and we just – I don’t know – block the gate, burn the library down? Nobody would notice.’

Gwen shook her head. ‘Easier said than done. The Consortium would move heaven and earth to open another portal; it’s always possible at that site. These people will never give up. They’ve got the resources to keep trying until they hit the jackpot. Whammo! Kevin’s brains go splat.’

I shuddered at the thought. ‘So what do we do then, any ideas?’

She drummed her fingers on the cold rail. ‘Perhaps we have to hide you.’

‘Hide on this side?’

‘Why not, there’re worse places to live? You’ve not yet sampled all we have to offer.’

This thought hadn’t occurred to me. Perhaps Gwen would see me right after all. She placed a hand gently on my shoulder. ‘I’ve got a friend who might be able to help. There’re no guarantees, it won’t be easy, but he’s our next port of call.’

I chewed it over, unsure if I liked the taste of this idea. It would be hard, adjusting to this mad world, but was it any madder than the one I’d left behind? ‘Where does this friend of yours live?’

I felt her hand go tense. She hesitated. ‘You’ll see soon enough. Time to get to our positions.’ She was gone before I could quiz her further.

The captain had told us that when we reached port we should shut ourselves in a specific cargo container. This unit would be unloaded in the first batch and left in a quiet part of the vast port complex. He’d ensure it was left open so we could make good our escape. The idea terrified me, but Gwen assured me she had used this method before. Not for the first time I was putting my life in her hands.

We found the container and clambered inside. It was full of large boxes filled with computer equipment. There was just enough space to wedge ourselves in a hole left vacant by the mismatched packages. Gwen kept the doors ajar until the last moment, when we heard the ceiling covers grind open far above. The next few hours were some of the worst of my life, which considering what I’d recently been through was quite an achievement. Confined spaces have always made my pulse race and lately I’d had several suboptimal experiences with lifts. I’d always put my claustrophobia down to race memory – a perfectly rational fear of suffocation carved into my DNA. I wouldn’t have made a good miner. People are quick to condemn Mrs Thatcher but at least she’d spared me a life underground. Herding trolleys around a supermarket car park would always be much more my sort of career. Fresh air and sunshine.

Gwen wasn’t going to let me get away with whining about my predicament. She told me I would have to toughen up if I wanted to cut it, in this world or any other. Apparently I’d been mollycoddled too long; I was a special snowflake yearning for the security of the drift. The cheek of it. I was about to highlight my long list of achievements when I thought better of it. Perhaps she had a point.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

It was dark inside the container. The clanging and banging from every side seemed to last a lifetime. Silently I cursed the careless programming of robotic port cranes. Gwen passed the time meditating and told me not to worry about things over which I had no control. Very Zen, but what good would it do if we were dropped from a great height? At last the ordeal came to an end and all was still. I was shaken and traumatised but seemingly still in one piece. Waiting in the silence was almost as bad. An unknown time later, maybe an hour, maybe a few minutes, I jumped out of my skin as the locking mechanism of our metal coffin disengaged. A ghostly arm tossed a package inside. Gwen put a restraining hand on my shoulder, as if fearing I might flee at the first opportunity – did she think me that much a fool?

We waited in silence for what seemed a lifetime. At last Gwen slipped from her hiding space and peeked out the crack in the doors. When she was sure the coast was clear, she beckoned me down. ‘Here, put this on.’

The package contained a pair of hard hats, luminous yellow vests and clipboards. There were also a couple of lanyards, bearing what looked like electronic keys – LEDs rippling across their surface. Gwen was soon kitted out in the gear; I followed suit.

‘I don’t think we’ve got time to conduct a survey.’

Gwen slipped her head through a brightly coloured loop. ‘A hi-viz jacket is the best camouflage known to man. Take the clipboard and walk like you know what you’re doing. It’s all about looking the part.’

We were soon out of that cursed box and striding through alleys of steel. We saw no people. In the distance robot shuttle carriers glided by on errands of their own. I’d never seen so many ISO containers in one place, stretching as far as the eye could see. The towering stacks hid the sky. We were like ants lost in an unending maze of brightly coloured children’s blocks. At each intersection Gwen paused to peer at her notes. ‘Left at the next junction. Almost there.’

‘What is all this stuff?’

‘Milford’s the biggest container port in the world. Wales seems bent on buying all the consumer crap the rest of the planet can produce. Got to find a use for all that foreign currency.’

We turned the next corner and caught sight of the fence. It was a good half a mile away across a vast expanse of concrete. Above us drifting craft carried containers in every direction. As usual Gwen seemed to know where she was going. ‘Don’t rush. Walk like you’ve not a care in the world. There’s a personnel gate set in the fence.’

I followed her lead. It wasn’t easy, I felt terribly exposed sauntering across the tarmac. We reached the fence and found a small booth blocked by a turnstile. Gwen slid her security card into a slot and pushed against the bars. A light flashed green and she was through. Seconds later I’d joined her beyond the barrier.

We ditched our disguises in a convenient bush. I had to admit they’d been a success. Twenty minutes, and a spot of light jogging later, we were in downtown Milford Haven. Gwen was better at the jogging than me. It wasn’t Aberdare, but the place was still an impressive metropolis. The highest skyscrapers barely peeked through the skittering clouds. No rain was falling, but it looked like the sky might open at any moment. It felt good to be – sort of – back home in Wales. We grabbed some cheese on toast from a roadside café and asked directions to the nearest tacsi rank.

Just as we were leaving the rarebit joint Gwen pulled up short. A group of locals were clustered round a glowing screen set behind the bar. Gwen caught the proprietor’s eye. ‘What’s going on?’

He wiped his hands on a greasy apron and looked glum. ‘Damnedest bit of bad luck you could ever imagine. Seems a small asteroid slammed into North America. Completely levelled an office block in Langley, Virginia. No survivors. Makes you think, donnit.’

Something about this news troubled me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. ‘Jeeze, this world is so random. What are the odds?’ The TV pictures showed nothing but a glowing crater picked over by rescue crews.

Beside me Gwen had gone very pale. It was far from a happy news story but her reaction struck me as over the top. Without a word she bundled me out of the door and onto the glistening pavement.

‘What’s up with you?’

She checked the street in both directions. ‘That office housed a CIA black facility in the basement. It was our rendezvous – where I was scheduled to hand you over to the Consortium’s top hombres. Someone very badly wants you dead. Someone powerful enough to lob rocks from orbit.’

My recent meal felt like it wanted out of my stomach. I started seeing faceless assassins lurking in every shadow – there were plenty nearby to choose from. Perhaps sensing a panic attack, Gwen took my elbow and led me briskly down the road. Minutes later we were clambering into another of the bright yellow tacsis, Gwen counting out the cash. We were soon airborne and heading into the darkening night. What fresh nightmares would it bring? All that cheese I’d eaten wasn’t going to help.