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domes. It was a universally recognised alarm for serious structural damage; a sound specifically pitched so that it travelled well through a thin atmosphere. An electronic voice accompanied the alarm.
    “Evacuate station. Proceed immediately to the nearest evacuation point. This sector has suffered a catastrophic systems malfunction. Evacuate station…”
    That decided it.
    “You still think that this is a drill?” I barked at Daryl. I was up. “We have to get back to the
Edison
.”
    Too many things of too great a significance seemed to be happening in far too short a time. I’d finally made it to
Liberty Point
. I’d seen my mother for the first time in years, and that meeting had pretty much gone as badly as it could. Now, on top of all that, the station was suffering some unknown systems malfunction. The situation seemed unreal.
    “Maybe Taniya is right,” Nate said. “Captain, ma’am, we should go.”
    A chain reaction started by the patrons closest to the door. Panic crashed all around me like a wave. Tables were suddenly upturned, chairs thrown aside. The clatter of furniture against walls and floors was almost as deafening as the yelling and shouting of the crowd. Bodies began to push and press for the limited exits from the bar. Dancers in glass tubes were scrabbling for release: I saw one girl being carried out of a broken tube, another clawing at the exit handle to no avail. Very few people stopped to help them.
    Sheldon held my arm. I stumbled on, avoiding broken glass, weaving between other escapees. Daryl, Lucina and Nate were around me, grabbing at each other to stay together.
    “It’s got to be some sort of attack!” Daryl shouted. His earlier optimism had been shattered, replaced by blind dread. “They’ve come here!
They’ve
found me.”
    In the press of bodies, I didn’t question that remark. I was being crushed and could barely breathe. Elbows jabbed me in the ribs, someone pushed me hard from behind. I followed the herd and it burst out onto the concourse outside – into the District’s main corridor. Where previously the zone had been ablaze with neon and other light sources, now it was drenched by red emergency lamps, like everyone and everything had been coated in blood. The image was not an endearing one.
    Every establishment on the concourse was emptying. Thousands of off-duty military, civilian hauliers and service crew all clamouring for release. Bodies were being trampled underfoot, limbs tangled.
    The idea that I might be left behind suddenly occurred to me. I grabbed Sheldon’s hand tighter, caught him looking back at me. Daryl was clutching at Lucina – the younger woman doing her best to stay upright among the crowd. Nate was somewhere alongside me, ruthlessly pushing people aside. I’d never seen him like that before, and I wasn’t sure that I liked this new side to him.
    “The sector exit is ahead!” Sheldon yelled.
    The enormous bulkhead door was shut, and a yellow security light flashed overhead.
    “Let’s hope that the door isn’t locked,” I said.
    We were still twenty or so metres from the portal, surrounded by a crush of fellow escapees, when – as though in answer – it peeled open.
    When I saw what was on the other side, I wished that it had stayed shut.
     
    For just a second the crowd froze.
    All eyes fixed on the door.
    The new arrivals were revealed by parts, and it wasn’t until the whole had become visible that I realised what I was looking at.
    Three soldiers, silhouetted by the light of the corridor beyond the door. They were armoured in sleek black suits with faces covered by bulky helmets, respirators attached to the chin and nose. The red light of the emergency lamps played off the angles of their armour, made them look cruel. Each carried a large rifle, muzzle up and pointed at the crowd. Having never been remotely interested in weapons tech, I had no idea what the guns were. I only knew that I did not want the devices pointed in my