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I’m on official business. I was delighted to learn that I am not the only Engineer in Mayda.”
    An Engineer? Here? He’s lying, thought Fever. She had grown up amongst the Order of Engineers in Godshawk’s Head and she was certain that she had never seen Dr Teal before. Then she recalled that Godshawk’s Head had burned, and that two years had passed since she fled London.
    “Wait here,” she said to Fern and Ruan, and she hurried down the barge’s winding companionways and out through the stage-left hatch.
    The stranger stood waiting for her. He did not try to shake her hand (an irrational, insanitary greeting) but made a small and Engineerish bow. “You don’t know me, Miss Crumb,” he said. “I am a recent member. Quercus needs all the Engineers and men of science he can get to help him transform London. And what true scientist or Engineer could resist the chance to help set a whole city moving?”
    I did, for one, thought Fever, and then wondered if that was what Dr Teal had meant; that because she’d turned her back on London she could not be a true Engineer. She blushed, and felt suddenly ashamed of her hair and the odd cut of her coat. But Dr Teal was smiling kindly at her, and she saw that he was not rationally dressed himself. No doubt he had travelled far, and had learned, like Fever, that an Engineer’s standards sometimes had to be adjusted, out here in the world.
    “I watched the play last night,” he said. “Enjoyed it hugely.”
    “It is a foolish story,” said Fever. “The moon is 240,000 miles away; it’s most unlikely that the Ancients could have flown there. And if they did, I’m sure they did not find the goddess Selene waiting for them.”
    “Nevertheless, it makes a good play, and your lighting was ingenious. The smoke and flames when that chariot took flight…!”
    Fever thanked him, and glanced up at the curious faces of her friends, which were ranged along the handrail above her, waiting to see whether she would hit it off with her gentleman caller. For a moment she thought of asking him aboard, but she felt suddenly wary. How would Fern and Ruan react to this reminder of London and all that they had lost? And what would Dr Teal make of the chaos and clutter backstage, of the shrine to Rada, dusty with the ash of incense-sticks?
    The Engineer seemed to sense her unease. “Perhaps you would like to walk down to the harbour with me?” he suggested. “There is a place nearby which serves fine African coffee. Or boiled water, if you prefer.”
    It was unsettling for Fever to meet a fellow Londoner, having turned her back on London so decisively. On the other hand, it was not often that she had a chance of talking with someone truly rational. She waved up to her friends and called, “I’ll be half an hour…”
    “Take all morning if you like,” urged AP. “But make sure you are back in time to run through the lighting arrangements for tonight. I am making some changes to Act 2, Scene III. And my soliloquy just before the first-act curtain could use a little more illumination…”
    Dr Teal was already turning away, putting his hat back on to shield his shaven scalp from the sun. Fever did not take the arm he proffered, but walked beside him away from the Lyceum. Each time she glanced up at him she found him watching her with a look of faint amusement, so after a little way she stopped glancing up and kept her eyes on the cobbles instead. Crumpled programmes from last night’s production blew about underfoot, and beneath a nearby barge a pair of angels was squabbling over a dropped pie.
    “Are you to be long in Mayda?” he asked.
    “Only two more nights; then we are to travel south to Meriam, where there is some sort of festival. We shall return to Mayda for a longer stay after that.”
    “Ah, Meriam!” said Dr Teal. “Yes, they celebrate the Summer Tides in great style down there. More of a carnival than a festival…”
    Carnival or festival, it didn’t seem to