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his　wide　eyes　wandering　around　the　room。
“You　gonna　eat　that？”　asked　Cholos；　gesturing　to　the　half…eaten　meal。
Solon　pushed　the　tray　towards　the　orderly　in　response；　blowing　out　another　cloud　of　smoke。
Cholos　coughed　once　and　cleared　his　throat。
“Come　on；　kid。　Get　some　food　into　you；”　said　Cholos；　patting　his　hand　on　the　seat　of　the　vacant
chair　encouragingly。　The　boy　moved　forward　warily；　and　his　eyes　locked　on　the　food。
Solon　stared　at　the　boy；　still　seeing　his　son’s　dead　face。　The　boy　wore　an　exposure　suit　that　was
much　too　large　for　him；　its　hood　drawn　back　away　from　his　head。　The　sleeves　hung　well　past　his
hands；　and　the　cuffs　of　its　legs　were　bunched　up　around　his　ankles。　As　he　shuffled　forward；　trying
not　to　trip；　he　would　have　made　a　comical　sight　were　he　not　so　clearly　malnourished。
He’d　spoken　not　a　word　since　they　had　brought　him　aboard；　except　to　say　his　name　when
questioned：　Dios。　The　boy’s　words　when　they　had　found　him　still　haunted　Solon。
“They　were　taken；”　the　boy　had　said。　There　were　some　corpses　aboard　the　crawler；　but　the　vast
majority　of　the　people　that　had　been　onboard　had　apparently　disappeared　into　thin　air。
“By　who？”　Solon　had　asked。
“Ghosts；”　the　boy　had　replied；　and　the　words　had　made　Solon’s　skin　crawl。
“There　is　no　such　thing　as　ghosts；”　the　Interdiction　sergeant；　Folches；　had　said；　though　there　had
been　little　conviction　in　his　voice；　and　Solon　wondered　whether　he　had　been　trying　to　convince　the
boy；　or　himself。
Solon　had　to　agree　with　Folches；　though。　He　didn’t　believe　in　ghosts　or　spirits；　but　something
had　taken　all　those　people。　Fifteen　hundred　people　do　not　just　disappear。
Since　bringing　the　boy　onboard；　the　child　had　shadowed　every　step　of　Solon’s　second；　Cholos。
Solon　was　just　glad　that　the　boy　had　not　latched　onto　him。　For　his　part；　Cholos　seemed　to　be
enjoying　the　attention；　and　had　even　suggested　making　the　boy　the　crawler　crew’s　mascot。
“That’s　the　way；”　said　Cholos　as　the　boy　tucked　into　Solon’s　discarded　food　with　gusto。
“Hungry；　aren’t　you？”
“Find　a　woman　amongst　the　refugees　that　has　lost　her　son；”　said　Solon。　“Give　the　boy　to　her。”
“Oh；　I　don’t　mind　lookin’　after　him；”　said　Cholos。
“We　don’t　need　a　pet　kid　underfoot；　Cholos；”　said　Solon。　“Foist　him　off　on　one　of　the　refugees。
There　are　plenty　of　women　down　below　who　would　take　him。”
Cholos　glared　at　Solon　for　a　moment。
“Don’t　listen　to　him；　boy；”　said　Cholos。　“He’s　nothing　but　a　mean　old　man。”
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The　boy；　for　his　part；　seemed　oblivious　to　the　conversation；　focused　on　the　meal　before　him。
With　a　last　lick　of　the　standard　issue　spoon　in　his　hands；　he　finished　off　the　meal；　smacking　his　lips
loudly。
“Cholos；”　began　Solon；　but　his　words　were　interrupted　as　the　room　shook　violently。　The　crawler
came　to　a　shuddering　halt；　and　warning　lights　began　to　flash。　The　wail　of　sirens　blared　from　the
hallway；　and　Solon　was　instantly　up　and　moving。
“What　the　hell？”　asked　Cholos；　knocking　his　chair　over　as　he　stood。
A　second　impact　rocked　the　crawler；　and　mugs　fell　from　their　hooks　to　clatter　on　the　floor。　Solon
clutched　at　the　door…frame　to　steady　himself。
“Ghosts；”　murmured　the　boy；　his　eyes　wide　and　fearful。
“Go；　go；　go！”　shouted　Folches　as　the　crawler　bay　doors　slid　open。
The　sergeant　dropped　to　the　ice　and　landed　in　a　crouch；　his　laslock　rifle　humming　as　its　charge
powered　up。
The　storm　had；　if　anything；　become　fiercer；　and　punishing　winds　lashed　against　the　soldiers　of
the　Skyllan　Interdiction　as　they　peered　into　the　whitewash　of　billowing　snow。
“Can’t　see　a　damn　thing；”　muttered　one　of　Folches’s　men；　the　sound　crackling　through　on　the
sergeant’s　micro…bead　in　his　left　ear。
“The　crawler　was　hit　from　the　north…east；”　said　Folches。　“Move　out；　dispersal　formation。”
“How　can　we　engage　what　we　can’t　damn　well　see？”　asked　another　of　his　team；　his　voice
strained。　Fear；　Folches　realised。　He　rounded　on　the　man；　and　grabbed　him　by　the　shoulder；　pulling
him　close。
“You　done？”　barked　Folches　into　the　man’s　face；　and　the　soldier　nodded　curtly。　With　a　shove；
Folches　pushed　him　away；　and　gestured　for　two　of　his　men　to　move　around　the　front　of　the　crawler；
and　for　the　other　two　to　proceed　around　its　rear。
His　men　nodded　their　responses；　and　the　sergeant　began　moving　towards　the　rear　of　the　hulking
behemoth；　loping　along　the　length　of　the　crawler　with　his　body　low　and　the　butt　of　his　laslock
pressed　into　his　shoulder。　Behind　him；　the　two　soldiers　loped　through　the　snow　and　ice。　The　other
two　men；　moving　in　the　opposite　direction；　disappeared　instantly　into　the　storm。
Reaching　the　rear　of　the　ice…crawler；　Folches　gestured　for　his　men　to　halt；　and　risked　a　glance
around　the　back　of　the　immense　vehicle。　Smoke　was　billowing　from　the　engine　stacks；　and　hot　oil
was　spilling　out　onto　the　ice。　Steam　rose　from　where　the　oil　was　pooling。
Crouched　low；　he　signalled　for　his　men　to　take　cover。
One　of　the　soldiers；　Leon；　dropped　to　his　stomach　and　began　crawling　elbow　over　elbow　through
one　of　the　deep　depressions　created　by　the　crawler’s　track　units；　easing　himself　into　position　and
sighting　his　long…barrelled　lasgun　out　towards　the　north…east。　The　other　ducked　beneath　the
undercarriage　of　the　craed　forward　to　take　up　a　position　looking　out　to　the　northeast。
Folches　leant　around　the　corner　of　the　crawler；　peering　through　the　sight　of　his　weapon。　The
scope　rendered　the　landscape　in　shades　of　green；　and　though　it　lit　up　the　darkness　as　if　it　were　day；
the　fury　of　the　storm　was　such　that　he　could　see　no　more　than　twenty　metres　ahead。
There　was　nothing　to　see；　just　a　swirling　blanket　of　snow　and　ice。
“Julius；　you　seeing　anything　out　there？”　he　said　into　his　micro…bead。
“Negative；　sir；”　came　the　response。
“Hold　position；”　he　said。
The　wind　howled　around　Folches；　and　he　remained　motionless；　waiting。　Minutes　dragged　by；
and　the　biting　cold　began　to　seep　through　his　limbs。
He　lifted　his　head　away　from　his　gun　sight；　and　stared　out　into　the　blanketing　white　gale。　A
shadow　of　movement　ghosted　behind　the　veil　of　swirling　ice。
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He　dropped　his　eye　to　his　sight　once　more；　straining　to　pick　up　the　movement。　He　saw　nothing；
and　swore　under　his　breath。
“You　see　that；　Leon？”　he　hissed　into　his　micro…bead。
“Didn’t　see　anything；　sir；”　said　the　soldier。
“Damn　it。　There’s　something　out　there。　Julius；　anything？”
There　was　no　response　from　the　other　soldiers　of　his　squad；　just　the　relentless　roaring　of　the
wind。
“Julius；　Marcab；　come　in；”　said　Folches；　but　again　just　silence　answered　him。
“Hell；”　he　swore。
The　sergeant　felt　movement　behind　him；　and　he　swung　around；　his　heart　thumping；　bringing　his
laslock　to　bear　on…　nothing。
He　was　jumping　at　shadows；　and　he　cursed　himself。　He　forced　his　racing　heart　to　slow；　breathing
in　slowly。
“Calm　yourself；　man；”　he　said　to　himself　as　he　resumed　his　position。　He’d　give　anything　for　a
blast　of　his　stim…inhaler　around　about　now；　but　he　had　left　the　black　market　narcotics　back　onboard
the　crawler。
Trying　to　push　the　cravings　away；　Folches　took　a　deep　breath；　and　tried　to　contact　his　other
soldiers　once　more。
“Marcab。　Julius。　Come　in；”　he　whispered　hoarsely　into　his　vox…bead。　“Where　the　hell　are　you？”
Again；　nothing　but　silence。
He　flashed　a　glance　towards　Leon；　lying　concealed　in　the　crawler　tracks。　The　motionless　soldier
was　face　down；　and　blood　was　splattered　out　around　his　shattered　head。
Folches　pulled　back　from　the　corner　of　the　crawler；　and　a　flurry　of　projectiles　impacted　with　the
metal；　centimetres　from　his　face。
Several　of　the　rounds　sliced　past　the　corner　of　the　crawler；　whistling　sharply　as　they　sped
through　the　air。
A　strangled　grunt　carried　to　Folches’s　ear　on　the　wind；　and　he　knew　that　the　last　of　his　squad；
Remus；　was　dead。
Swearing；　Folches　leant　out　around　the　corner　of　the　crawler；　presenting　the　smallest　target
possible。
Half　a　dozen　figures　in　glossy　black　armour　were　darting　through　the　snow；　and　he　saw　larger；
shadowy　shapes　gliding　forwards　behind　them；　several　metres　off　the　ground。
The　sergeant　snapped　off　a　quick　shot　towards　the　closest　of　the　figures；　and　ducked　back　into
cover　as　return　fire　spat　towards　him。　One　of　the　enemy　rounds