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most of her head and body, but her dark eyes, her straight back, even the way she moved, were all full of a quiet authority. She was the head of the daria and everyone, even the chattering toddlers, grew silent as she approached. Beside her walked the parents of the two dead Sahawari boys, their faces marked with sorrow. Trailing sullenly behind were the three surviving boys from the ill-fated mine-collecting trip. They obviously did not want to be there, but lacked the courage to openly defy the head of the daria.
    Philippe Larousse gave her a respectful nod, then turned to Alpha Force. ‘Do you have the footage?’ he asked.
    Hex retrieved the DV tape cassette from his palmtop pouch and Alex pulled the camcorder case from his quad trailer. Philippe took the tape and the case, then walked back into the mud-brick hospital building, with the head of the daria at his side and the sad little group of Sahawaris following behind.
    ‘What do we do now?’ asked Amber.
    ‘We wait,’ said Hex with just a hint of impatience. He could have sent the footage from the minefield almost as soon as he had filmed it – the digital camcorder had fire-wire technology which allowed him to download the images on to his palmtop and then send them to every major news station in the world – but Philippe had insisted that the boys’ parents must be the first to see the footage. Only when the parents gave their permission could it be shown to the rest of the world.
    Alpha Force waited silently in the square, watching the closed hospital doors and imagining what the parents of the boys must be going through. Hex busied himself connecting his palmtop to the Net and retrieving his file of the unlisted e-mail addresses of most of the top news programme editors. He smiled as he scanned the list. That had been a worthwhile few hours of hacking.
    Hex looked up as the hospital doors creaked open. Philippe, the head of the daria and the three boys came out, their faces etched with the horror of what they had just seen. The parents remained inside. Philippe walked over to Hex and handed him the camcorder.
    ‘They say yes,’ he said gruffly.
    The Sahawaris gathered around Hex as he sent the footage off to the news stations. When he had finished, he closed the lid of the palmtop and looked at the head of the daria. ‘That’s done,’ he said.
    She nodded to show she understood, then looked each of them in the eye, finishing with a special smile for Khalid. Khalid proudly straightened his shoulders and stood as tall as he could.
    ‘I thank you,’ said the head of the daria, in heavily accented English. ‘We thank you.’

S EVEN
    Paulo woke in the musty heat of the tent. He thought he had heard the musical sound of water trickling into a metal bowl, but the tent was silent now. He swallowed dryly, licked his cracked lips and decided that his thirst must have made him dream of water. Lifting his arm to his face, he peered at his watch in the dim light. It was early evening and he had slept the day away. Beside him, Hex and Alex were still deeply asleep on their camp beds.
    Paulo closed his eyes and eased over on to his back with a groan. Every muscle in his body was aching fiercely, but his ears were just about back to normal. He could hear children shouting somewhere in the camp, and inside the tent there was the faintest rustle of cloth and the sound of – stifled giggles . . . ?
    He opened his eyes. Li was standing over him with a brass bowl suspended above his head. She grinned at him, then tipped the bowl a little further and a shock of water cascaded down on to his face. Paulo sat up with a yell, shaking his head like a dog and sending sprays of water flying from his dark, curly hair. In the other camp beds, Alex and Hex lurched upright with identical yells as Amber doled out the same treatment.
    ‘C’mon sleepy-heads,’ she crowed. ‘This is your wake-up call. It’s time to rock and roll. Meet you at the Monster.’
    Paulo, Hex and