The most likely place to find Randall and the others, Emily thought, was Lendaron, the capital city of Saxony.

Randall would want to be close to one of the world's centres of power, she thought. There were bigger ones than Lendaron, of course, in Europe, Africa and along the North American east coast, and there were myths and legends of powerful empires further away with names like Cathay, Gupta and Nippon. Few of them spoke this strange, futuristic dialect of English, though, and during their short acquaintance Randall had confided to her that he had no talent with languages. That pretty much limited him to the British Isles, therefore, which meant that, unless he'd crossed the Irish Sea to Uineill, he would be in Saxony and that, she thought, meant Lendaron.

She had done her homework before setting out. Lendaron, in the ninth century of the Hornish calendar, was a city of a million people entirely surrounded by the largest, strongest wall in Europe. A wall that, in all history, had never been breached unlike virtually every other city in Saxony which had all been broken into and overrun, their entire populations, rich and poor alike, butchered by orcs at least once in previous centuries.

Emily was ready to be impressed by her first sight of it, therefore, and as she and her escort of soldiers emerged from the woods that lined the great west road, she wasn't disappointed. The wall reared ahead of her like the edge of the world. Blocks of stone as massive as those that had made up the pyramids (and maybe still did as far as she knew) piled up to make a sheer cliff forty feet high with an overhang at the top for dropping things on a besieging army. Wide towers stood every fifty feet with wooden catapults standing on top along with what looked like gigantic crossbows. It looked as though it had been built to outlast eternity, and yet Emily knew that it was just one of four walls, the inner three scarcely less impressive than the outermost. A wide moat stood before the whole thing. An arm of the river Thames, dug by navvies to flood any tunnel that the orcs might try to dig under the wall.

"It looks so strong," said Emily, almost to herself as her carriage clattered towards it, "but they know that you could destroy it any time you wanted just by dropping a small asteroid on it."

"They know that won't happen so long as they obey the laws of VIX," said the priest sitting opposite her.

"Maybe, but the mere knowledge that you could destroy the city any time you wanted, what must that do to them? I know that what you've done is for the good, that you've restored the biosphere and returned mankind to a better way of living, but the certain knowledge that a greater power exists that they have no defence against must do something to them. Give them a crippling sense of insecurity."

"Mankind has always lived with the belief that Gods exist, with the power to judge and destroy."

"Maybe, but they were always created in the image of the people who believed in them. Everyone believed that their way of living, their actions and choices, would lead inevitably to their salvation, that it was the people who lived differently who would be punished. Everyone believed themselves, their tribe, their society, to be the chosen people of God, and that gave them a sense of security. You, though, you machines, you don't have a chosen people. Anyone might be blasted to oblivion if they do something to offend you. The self delusion that gave them the sense of security with the old Gods doesn't exist with you. Where's their comfort blanket?"

"We do not interfere in human society," the priest replied. "Humans can live their lives any way they wish, commit any atrocity they wish, and we will not interfere. Slavery, rape, genocide... If that is how humans wish to live then we let them. The only law is the control of technology. Steam, electricity, explosives. That is the only thing we punish humans for. So long as they do not violate that law, they have their comfort blanket."

Emily nodded and looked out the window. Everything the priest said made perfect sense, she realised, and looking out at the beautiful rustic farmland that went all the way up to the moat she found herself profoundly grateful for everything they had done. The sky was a deep, clear blue, the kind of sky that had only existed in virtual reality simulations back in her day. There was a kestrel high up in the sky, she saw. Scanning the ground for small rodents. A visual reminder that the entire food chain had been restored in all its glory and complexity. The only thing that bothered her was that this idyllic existence had been imposed on them by machines. Mankind should have been able to achieve this by themselves. But then, mankind had created the machines and so, in a way, this was indeed manknd's achievement. She gave a deep sigh of happiness and contentment. If only her friends and comrades in The Movement could have seen this.

The moat was crossed by a wide drawbridge already crowded with wagons and pedestrians entering and leaving the city. The carriage driver pulled the horses to a slow walk to give everyone ahead of them the chance to get out of their way. The carriage was close to the edge of the drawbridge and Emily was able, by leaning her head and shoulders out through the window, to see down to the water below. She saw tall reeds and rushes along the bank and floating weeds further out among which large creatures swam. Some kind of fish, freshwater by the look of it. She wondered whether the Thames was tidal at this point and how that would affect the defence of the city if it was.

The wall was thirty feet thick, almost making the entrance a tunnel rather than a simple gate with no fewer than six portcullises hanging in the ceiling, ready to drop to block the passage of invaders. The fetid smells of the city greeted them as they emerged back into the daylight and tall buildings pressed in on either side. Emily immediately began examining the people of the city, scanning their faces, looking for any of her former companions. It would be astonishingly good luck if she found one of them so quickly, of course, but who knows? Stranger things had happened.

"God, but I hate cities!" she said with feeling as the carriage proceeded slowly along the crowded street. Ahead of them, their escort had dismounted and were leading their horses by the reins as they herded people out of the way.

"Once the fugitives have been dealt with, you can spend the rest of your life in the countryside," the priest promised her. "The orcs will be told to leave you alone. Your whole family will be safe, if you decide to have one."

"I think I'm a little old to be thinking of children."

"Not at all. You're still years away from menopause, and with the regular attention of a priest you might live for another thirty years. Long enough to see grandchildren. You should give it some serious thought. What you're going to do when your present task is over."

"Hmm." Emily was sceptical. She had no illusions regarding her physical attractiveness, but money was an effective aphrodisiac and the priests had promised her a lot of it for her help. Did she want a gold digger for a husband, though? Someone who might marry her for her money and then smother her with a pillow in the night? She shook her head at her foolishness. Am I so insecure that I can't even imagine good things happening to me? she wondered. I'm on the brink of the lifestyle of my dreams, so stop being so negative and just enjoy it.

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Each circle of the city (not that they were circular. More rectangular, with the walled, winding curve of the river as its southern edge) was cleaner and inhabited by a higher class of people than the one before. The outer circle, the largest by population, contained the peasantry, the working classes. Stinking and crowded. It also contained almost all the city's industry. Emily didn't think it very likely that Randall would be among the filthy rabble that filled its streets. She knew that he, Loach and Jane had stolen all the money that the priest of Saltmarsh had put aside for emergencies. Enough for him to buy some decent clothes and pass himself off as a noble. No, Randall would be in the second circle, she thought. Wheeling and dealing with the real nobles in an attempt to secure a place among them. She paid only token attention to the peasantry as they passed them by, therefore. More to please the priest than for any other reason.

The second circle was nearly equal in area to the outer circle but contained only a tenth as many people. This was the Circle of Barons, each one the owner for a large tract of countryside, along with the towns and villages it contained, and responsible for its upkeep and the collection of taxes. Back in the middle ages their mansions would have been on their land but that simply wasn't an option with the orcs an ever present threat. Absentee barons, thought Emily with a smile. Probably with agents and deputies who went out to their lands when necessary to take the risk on their behalf.

The mansions were every bit as grand as if they were out in the countryside, though. Large, stone buildings with latticed windows and elegant gargoyles peering down at the passers by from the tiled rooftops. Smoke curled from tall chimneys and flags fluttered from poles above the pillared doorways. Each building was separated from its neighbour by a walled garden that stretched behind for some distance. Not every building was occupurd by a baron and his family, of course. No more than one in three, the priest told Emily. Maybe even one in four. The others were occupied by wealthy merchants and businessmen, all dressed in bright, colourful garments embroidered with extravagant patterns and designs so fine that their smallest details were almost beyond the ability of the naked eye to see.

"About half of the total wealth of these people is spent on their clothing," the priest said matter of factly as the carriage picked up speed, no longer slowed by packed crowds. "Appearance is everything."

"There used to be a saying back in the nineteenth century," said Emily, staring in admiration. "The clothes make the man."

"That is literally true in this society," said the priest. "Not so much in other cities, perhaps, but definitely so here, in Lendaron. Anyone dressed shabbily would probably be beaten up and thrown back over the wall."

Emily looked down at her own clothes. Neat and clean enough, but not as fine as those worn by the people around them. "Is that what's going to happen to me when they see me?"

"Don't worry, we'll find some better clothes for you," the priest assured her. "We want you to blend in, after all."

The carriage followed the road towards the gate in third wall, then turned before it reached it into a wide side street between large, grand looking three storey houses. "This is where you'll be living for the duration of your stay in the city," said the priest. "Baron Wright has agreed to give you a suite of rooms in exchange for favour with the priesthood. I think you'll be quite comfortable here."

"I'm sure you're right." Emily looked at the house as the carriage came to a stop in front of it. It was set back from the street with a low hedge between it and the pedestrian walkway. A flight of stone steps led up to the ornate front door with brass straps and a lions head knocker. There was another, much less grand looking door a little to one side, level with the street. The servants' entrance, Emily guessed. A third door in the side wall led, Emily guessed, to a large formal garden with neatly trimmed grass and immaculately tended flower beds. Possibly even a pond with a fountain, although none of it was visible from the street.

The carriage driver climbed down to open the door for Emily and the priest to step out, and as she did so the front door of the house opened to reveal a butler dressed in a neat black and white uniform. The priest gestured for Emily to precede her up the steps to where the butler stood aside to allow them to enter. "I regret the Baron is not at home at present," he said in a posh, plummy voice, "but he has ordered me to take care of our guest."

"Thank you, Deakins," said the priest. He gestured for Emily to enter the house but made no move to do so himself. "I leave her in your hands. I regret that I cannot stay to enjoy your hospitality. I have to return to Tettlehall to resume my duties there."

"Some other time perhaps," said the butler, giving a slight bow."

"Some other time," replied the priest. He returned the bow, then turned to Emily. "It's getting late," he said. You'll probably want to spend the rest of the day resting after your journey. Tomorrow will be plenty of time to begin your work."

"How long will I be staying here?" asked Emily. "If I don't find Randall or any of the others, how long do I keep trying before moving on to another city?"

"That's entirely up to you," the priest replied. "You may think of something that leads you to believe that they went elsewhere, but I agree with you that they'll probably come here sooner or later. Randall, I think, is the kind of man who will be irresistibly drawn to the centre of power, which is here, in the capital." He looked to the south, where the top of the third wall could be seen above the rooftops. The wall that separated the Circle of Barons from the Circle of Lords, the homes of the highest levels of the Saxony aristocracy. And inside that was the fourth wall containing the Palace itself and the extensive grounds surrounding it. The Palace of King David the Third, King of Saxony.

"Whether you find him or not," the priest continued, "we appreciate the effort you are making. It will not be forgotten." He then bowed to Emily, who nodded her head awkwardly in reply. The priest then returned to the carriage, where the driver held the door for him to enter. The driver then climbed back up into his seat, slapped the reins and drove away, accompanied by his escort of mounted soldiers.

Emily watched until the carriage disappeared from sight, then entered the house. The butler closed the door behind her.

☆☆☆

The next day, dressed in fine clothes that Lady Wright had found for her, tailored to fit by one of her maids, Emily left the house again and walked the streets, staring intently at the face of every person she passed.

Lady Wright had advised her to go to the Tinkers District, the seediest, least reputable part of the second circle where recent arrivals with little money but big ambitions would be most likely to go. It did sound like exactly the kind of place that Randall would head for, but Emily thought that the former businessman might avoid the place for precisely that reason. He was far too smart and devious to be so predictable. She had to start somewhere, though. She would give the Tinkers District a day or two, then move on to Cathbell, the most reputable part of the outer circle. Maybe Randall had some knowledge of twenty first century chemistry and industrial processes that could be adapted to a medieval setting. He might sell the idea to an enterprising businessman in return for a share of the profits it made. And if Randall also failed to show up there, there were other cities. Brightwell, Dethby, Elmton, Northend. Randall and the others might be at any of them.

She sighed. Most likely the priests would find them themselves before she got so much as a sniff of them. Would they still keep their promise to her if that happened? Enough money to guarantee security for herself and any family she might one day have? They said all the right things, but for all she knew they might be just as capable of lying as any human. All she could do, she told herself, was do the best job she could and hope for the best. Her own future was secondary, in any case. What really mattered was that the natural world, the world she'd fought for all her life, continued to be protected.

She gathered her coat tighter around her chest against the chilly autumn air and then, her sense of purpose renewed, continued on to the Tinkers District, studying the faces of everyone she passed as she did so.