It took just a few minutes for the horses to drag the eighteen wheeler to the side of the road. There was no driver in the cab, but from the damage to the truck and the skidmarks it had left behind it they deduced that the driver had, for some reason, tried to steer suddenly to the left while driving at full speed.

"I'm guessing he experienced a hallucination while trying to escape from the anomaly," said Jeffcott. "Something that made him think the road was blocked."

"There was a truck driver in the hospital," said Duffy sadly. "Nice looking guy in his thirties. I wonder if that was him."

"If it was, it meant he walked away from that," said Jeffcott, looking at the crumpled cab.

"He could easily not have walked away from it," said Dennings, though, as the soldiers began hitching the horses back to the wagons. "A reminder that hallucinations can be deadly."

Once they were under way, travelling west along the smaller road, Jeffcott and Bhatt carried out the experiment they'd talked about during the rest stop. Jeffcott closed his eyes to shut out all external stimuli and counted to a hundred while the mathematician watched the turning of the second hand on his watch. "You took just under two minutes," he said when the Englishman had finished.

"It seemed about that long," Jeffcott replied. "Maybe time only seems to stretch when we're not paying attention."

"A scientific result is only valid if it can be reproduced," said Duffy, though. "We need to carry out the experiment again, with other people doing the counting, and seeing if..."

He was interrupted as one of the horses suddenly reared up, throwing its rider to the ground and galloping off back back way they had come. The experts watched as other soldiers dismounted and gathered round the fallen man. He didn't seem to be badly hurt, they were relieved to see, but he was gingerly fingering his side and lifting up his shirt to examine the skin beneath.

"Looks as if our professional services are required," said Summers to Gruber. The other man nodded and the two doctors climbed down from the wagon to walk across to the injured man.

"What happened?" asked Robinson.

"I'm guessing that horses can have hallucinations just like we can," suggested Duffy. "It saw something that startled it."

"I think I'm seeing something right now," said Jeffcott, looking down at the ground. "The road is rippling, as if it's made of water. I know it's not, because I can see people walking across it, but..."

He climbed found from the wagon and bent down to touch the road surface. "It feels like water," he said as the others gathered around him. "I can feel it splashing over my hand."

"And yet you're standing on it," said Duffy, also touching the ground. "Feels solid to me. And hot."

"It feels cool to me," Jeffcott replied. "It makes me want to lie down in it. It would be so refreshing..."

"The road's hot enough to burn you," said Duffy, grabbing Jeffcott's arm and pulling it up. Jeffcott straightened and looked at his hand, seeing wetness dripping from his fingers. Then he yelped and reached for the water bottle he was carrying in his pocket. He unscrewed the top and poured water over his fingers.

"Burned yourself?" said Robinson, coming closer to look at his fingertips. They were red and blistered, the pain continuing to grow as Jeffcott continued to pour water over them.

"Okay, now I'm starting to get scared," said Duffy. "We're going to have to be very, very careful what we do. Don't do anything that might hurt yourself or someone else, no matter how necessary it might seem at the time."

"Right," agreed Robinson. "If you get the sudden idea that someone's life is in danger and that they can only be saved by hitting them on the head with a rock, ask yourself if that would seem like a sensible idea under ordinary circumstances."

"If we're not careful, we could be paralysed with uncertainty," said Duffy. "How long before we're too scared to take any action at all in case we hurt someone?"

"It might not get that bad," said Robinson hopefully. "Maybe this is as bad as it'll get..."

"Watch what you're saying to me, Costanzo," one of the soldiers suddenly said in a loud voice.

"What?" said the soldier he'd spoken to. "All I said was..."

"It was the way you said it. You've been giving me shit ever since we left Papago." He gave the other soldier a firm shove that sent him sprawling backwards. "You better watch your mouth, or else."

"Break it up you two," said the Sergeant, marching rapidly towards them. "Brent, back off."

"You've all got it in for me," said the soldier, rounding on the Sergeant furiously. "You just as much as the rest." He dashed over to his horse and grabbed his lance, pulling it free from its harness. He brandished it at the Sergeant, aiming the point at his throat. "Don't think I won't," he warned, his eyes blazing with anger. "You all hate me. I know what you say behind my back."

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The Sergeant didn't move but stared back at the younger man. "You'll put down that weapon right away," he said in a calm voice. "That's an order, Brent." Several other soldiers were gathering around the two men. The Sergeant waved at them to keep back.

"He's suffering from an anomaly effect," said Dennings, sitting up in her seat. "I can help."

"No, don't," said Jeffcott, but he'd wandered a few feet away from the wagon and wasn't close enough to stop her. Neither was anyone else, but Jeffcott and Duffy chased after her, wanting to stop her before she could get too close to the deranged soldier with a deadly weapon. Jeffcott caught up with her and grabbed her arm, but then Brent saw the woman running towards him and gave a cry of horror, turning the lance towards her. Dennings skidded to a halt as if suddenly seeing her danger and raised her hands to ward off the lance, but the only result was that the steel blade slashed through her palm on its way to her heart.

Jeffcott froze, paralysed with shock, as Brent pulled the blade from her body, jerking her forward so that she fell to her knees. He stabbed again, but then the other soldiers were jumping on him, pinning him to the ground and pulling the lance from his grasp. "Look at her!" the man yelled, pointing at the psychologist as she stared down at the blood pouring from her chest. Summers and Gruber jumped up from the soldier who'd been thrown from his horse and ran over to her.

Reaching her first, Mark Summers pulled off her robes and began unbuckling the harness holding her magnet. "No!" cried Gruber. Summers jerked in surprise, but then he nodded and tore open her thin tee-shirt, rippjng the buttons off, to expose the wound. Gruber joined him, dropping to his knees to help treat the injury and Jeffcott, his paralysis finally leaving him, backed away, trembling with shock.

"Look at her!" Brent was still shouting as the soldiers zip-tied his hands behind his back, but then he stared as if seeing Dennings for the first time. "Oh God!" he cried, staring in horror. "I thought... I thought..."

The anomaly made him see her as something horrific, Jeffcott guessed, and before that the anomaly had made him perceive the innocent comment of another soldier as insulting. The soldier himself was realising what had happened, he saw, as the other soldiers pulled him to his feet. "It was the anomaly," he insisted. "Like she said. It wasn't my fault."

"Is she going to be alright?" asked Jeffcott as he and the other experts gathered around the two doctors. He could see the truth for himself, though, as Summers and Gruber settled back on their heels, grim expressions on their faces. Dennings was already dead.

Jeffcott reeled with shock and guilt. He'd been right beside Dennings when the soldier stabbed her. Close enough to have helped if he'd acted fast enough. He could have rushed the soldier, knocking him from his feet. He could have grabbed the shaft of the spear. Instead he'd done nothing but watch as she'd been killed right beside him. I'm a coward, he told himself, feeling nothing but a terrible self loathing. She's dead because of me.

The ground beneath him burned his feet. He could feel the heat rising around him, turning his skin crimson. It was so hot! How were his clothes not on fire? Above him the sky churned and boiled. Jeffcott could feel its hatred. It wanted him dead. It made him want to shrink away and hide, cowering in terror...

It's an anomaly effect, he told himself. My emotions, my guilt, are making me more susceptible to them. With an effort he forced himself to see the reality of the desert; nothing but dry dust, dead grass and cloutless blue sky. Gradually his perceptions returned to normal, but around him everyone else was equally horrified and shocked, and if turbulent emotions left people more susceptible to anomaly effects, then...

Around him people were shouting and screaming. Several people were running desperately as if being chased by hordes of demons while the Sergeant had drawn his sidearm and was trying to shoot Private Brent, his eyes wide with madness. Only silent clicks came from it as he pulled the trigger again and again. The horses, either scared by the actions of the humans or suffering anomaly effects of their own, were tearing themselves free from their harnesses and bolting across the desert. Two of them were still pulling the supply wagon. Food packets and bottles of water fell from it as it bounced madly across the uneven ground.

"The magnets aren't working," said Mark Summers, struggling to undo the buckles of his harness with trembling fingers. "They're making the effects worse. I can feel them! Inside me!" He stared at his arm and Jeffcott knew he was seeing living tumours squirming around under the skin.

"No, you fool!" said Gruber, trying to put the other doctor's fingers away from the buckles. Summers punched him in the face. Then he undid the rest of the buckles, tore off the harness amd threw it away. "That's better!" he gasped. "Everyone, take off your harnesses..."

"No!" cried Jeffcott, running over to pick up the discarded harness. He took it back to the doctor but had to dodge as Summers tried to punch him as well. "Put it back on," he insisted, trying to press it into his hands. "You're suffering from anomaly effects."

The doctor stared at him, and then Gruber was there beside him, rubbing his jaw. "He's right," he insisted. "You need to focus on the reality. Remember what..." He paused a moment, staring at the corpse lying so close beside him. "Remember what Dennings said. You can beat it if you focus your mind."

Then their attentions were taken by a scream coming from Private Seabreeze, though. He was staring down at his arm as if it was some kind of monster. "Get it off me!" He grabbed the knife from his belt and began sawing at his shoulder. Two other men tried to grab it from him.

More and more people were coming to realise what was happening, though, and were shouting at those people still affected to take back control of themselves. Those who were trying to do harm to themselves or someone else were restrained and their hands zip-tied until a peace of sorts was restored. Someone was still shouting, but most of those who'd been affected were coming out of it, looking horrified by what they'd done, or tried to do. Mark Summers grabbed his harness from Jeffcott's hands and slapped it hard to his chest. Jeffcott and Gruber helped him do up the buckles.

"You two doctors," said the Sergeant, looking pale and unsteady on his feet. "Please see to the wounded." He looked around at what remained of his command. "We need to... To get ourselves sorted out. Get ourselves back in order. Corporal Tigh, see to it please."

The Corporal achnowledged the order but hesitated as if wondering what to do. "Where are the horses?" he asked.

"Scattered," said one of the soldiers. "All over the place. There's some over there."

"If they're as vulnerable to anomaly effects as we are, we might be better off without them," said Robinson. Jeffcott was relieved to see that she seemed to have come through the incident unharmed.

"We need them to pull the generator," said the Corporal. He looked around. "Where's the generator?" he asked.

"I think the horses took it that way," said Rahul Bhatt, pointing behind the overturned eighteen wheeler.

"Someone go see if they can find it," said the Sergeant, who seemed to be recovering his composure. "Parkin, Dustu, go look will you?" The two Soldiers nodded and set off in that direction.

Jeffcott saw that Bright had suffered a cut to her arm and was trying to tie a cloth around it. He went over to help her.