'The computer has worked out what I think you'll agree is a feasible analysis. So far as I can judge, it's a potential bacterium. But the molecular structure is one thing. Getting the components and synthesising them another, but it might, possibly, produce the anti-bacterium we need.'
Neilson studied the figures. 'And this is the work of the machine Jan built?'
She nodded.
'I can't help wondering...' A tremor made his words tail off.
Fleming was sitting beside the cot, absent-mindedly revolving a toy suspended for the child's amusement. 'What would have happened if your son had stayed,' he finished.
Neilson turned to him. 'They shot him in cold blood,' he said. 'In front of our eyes. If I could find the man....'
'I can't tell you who pulled the trigger,' Fleming said. 'But I know who told him to. A man named Kaufman, who is 'looking after' us here.'
'I should like to meet him,' said Neilson.
'Maybe you will.'
Dawnay began gathering the papers together. 'At least your son's death was quick,' she said with compassion.
'Which is more than ours will be. Unless these work.' She stuffed the papers back in her skirt band. 'There's a lot more to come if only the girl can get it for us.'
'How is she?' Neilson asked.
Dawnay looked down at the baby; the child was wide awake, smiling at the sight of so many faces around him.
'She was an artificial sort of life,' she muttered. 'Not like... '
She turned abruptly away from the baby. 'There's some constituent lacking in her blood; something I didn't know about and something the computer didn't allow for.'
'Can't she get some help from the machine for herself?'
Neilson asked.
'No time,' Fleming replied. 'She might have done, I suppose, but there was this anti-bacterium job. She elected to work on it .... '
Neilson eyed Fleming speculatively. 'That was a hard decision,'
he said.
Fleming paused to light a cigarette. He inhaled deeply.
'Yes,' he said at last. 'It was a hard thing, as you say.'
Fleming rose and turned away from the others. He crossed to the window and stared out into the night. Hastily, to ease the tension, Dawnay began asking if Neilson wanted copies of the computer data. Neilson shook his head. He explained that the only practical thing would be a test tube of the anti-bacterium.
'If the girl can complete the analysis,' he started, but Fleming interrupted.
'Shush!' They stared at him. 'Lemka's coming.'
Lemka, who had been keeping watch on the road, came running across the courtyard to the house. They could hear her sandals on the rough paving.
'We're watched all the time,' Dawnay said. 'We thought we'd given them the slip tonight.'
Lemka burst into the room, her eyes large and round with excitement. 'They're coming,' she exclaimed. 'Soldiers. A whole truck load!'
All of them stood motionless for a few seconds. Then Dawnay took the papers she had put in her waistband. 'Hide these,' she said, thrusting them into Lemka's hand. 'Your husband can pick them up later and give them back.'
Lemka took them and turned to Neilson. 'My mother's room,' she said firmly. 'They won't go in there.'
'I hope you're right,' he smiled as he followed her.
There was a knock on the door, not violent or very loud.
Lemka emerged from the rear room and opened the door. A corporal saluted and spoke in Arabic; two soldiers stood beside him. Their guns were still slung on their shoulders.
'He says they have come to fetch you and Dr Fleming,'
Lemka interpreted, addressing Dawnay.
'Tell them we'll come right away,' Dawnay said, with what she hoped was a bright but casual smile. 'We'll be all right, so don't worry. But you'll have to find a safer place for Dr Neilson. We'll keep in touch somehow.'
Lemka extended her hand and clasped Dawnay's affectionately.
'My cousin will think of something. We had better not talk more, or the soldiers will suspect us.'
One soldier insisted on coming in the car, and the corporal made signs to Fleming to drive close behind the army truck.
The weather had cleared a little, the wind blowing strongly but steadily.
Back in the compound the computer block was a blaze of light. Two soldiers took over from the escort and led Fleming and Dawnay into the building. Kaufman was sitting at a desk in the office, his face a mask of suppressed anger. Abu was standing uneasily to one side.
'Now what's all this about?' the German barked at them as they entered. 'Why were you outside without permission?'
'Permission from whom?' Dawnay demanded. 'And why permission to visit friends; the family of a colleague?'
Kaufman tried to meet her look and failed. 'You know you are not supposed to be without an escort,' he blustered.
Fleming stepped forward, his fists clenched. 'Now look here, you Teutonic gauleiter....' he began, but Abu Zeki stepped in front of him. 'They sent for you because it was urgent. The girl collapsed while she was working in the sensory bay.'
'Andre?' Fleming was already at the door. 'I'll go to her,'
he called over his shoulder.
'How bad is she?' Dawnay asked Abu.
'She is very weak,' he replied. 'But there was a little more data from the printer before she collapsed.' He picked up a sheaf of record sheets from the desk and gave them to Dawnay.
Kaufman cleared his throat. 'You will be more carefully watched in future,' he warned, but he seemed uncertain and worried. 'How important is the girl to us?'
'About as important as your survival. You won't go on living for long if she doesn't finish this.' Dawnay could hardly bear to speak to him, but when she saw the fear come into his eyes she realised for the first time that he was not invulnerable; that he might be able to be worked upon. 'So for God's sake - and your own - try not to interfere more than you have to.'
He looked at her doubtfully and went away without speaking.
Andre's corner of the sick bay was in darkness. The nurse, sitting beside a screened light, stood up when Fleming tiptoed in. She protested at the intrusion.
'It's all right,' he told her. 'I just want to see her. I shan't wake her.'
The girl gave an annoyed sigh and walked across to the bed with him. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom he could make out the shape of Andre's emaciated body underneath the thin coverlet. Her head and hair were a vague shape in the centre of the white pillow. He bent down closer and saw that her eyes were open, watching him.
'I should have been here,' he whispered, gently touching her hair. His fingers brushed her forehead. It was damp and cold.
Very faintly her voice came to him, slow and hesitant. I have done what you wanted. Professor Dawnay has all she will need now.'
His mind hardly registered what she had said. 'I ought to have been with you,' he said again.
He found her hand. It lay lifeless and unnaturally flexed on the coverlet. His thumb and forefinger felt for the pulse in her wrist. He could detect nothing.
'I am finished,' she whispered, guessing what he was doing.
He withdrew his hand. 'No, you're not,' he said loudly.
'We've a trick or two left. Neilson is here. The father of the man who built this computer. He made me realise
