He was sitting on the deck of a yacht, dangling his foot over the side. Except instead of cool blue waters the sea was boiling lava, red and black, burning his foot. He saw the skin shrivel, flesh melting away, sinews snap. The bones dissolved into the molten sea, leaving just a stump at the end of his leg.
‘Wake him up.’
The voice pulled him out of the nightmare but the burning in his foot persisted, intense fire running through every nerve, his body incandescent with pain. He kept his eyes shut, maybe the lava sea was real, then he didn’t have to face what was coming.
His face jolted from a heavy slap. He flushed and bile rose in his throat, his foot sending flames licking up his leg. He opened his eyes.
Fellowes sat in a chair while two suited goons stood beside Ewan. It was like something from a comedy show, the hardmen who never speak. He wondered about them, did they go home to wives and kids, kiss them tenderly, tell them it was another boring day in the office? Nothing to mention but shooting innocent members of the public. Except he wasn’t innocent, he was up to his neck in it.
He looked at his foot. There was a surprisingly small hole in the bridge of his shoe, the trainer material red, blood oozing from it, more sloshing around inside that he could feel.
He looked around. He was in Paul and Iona’s living room, sitting in a chair by the dining table, Fellowes across the other side with his elbows resting on it, fingers templed together. Ewan raised his hands and was surprised he wasn’t tied to the chair. But what would be the point? He couldn’t outrun them at the best of times, let alone with a hole in his foot. He wondered how long he’d been out. How far Heather had got.
He heard a cough from the sofa across the room. His body stiffened as he saw Iona, face bruised, lip burst.
‘What the fuck?’ he said to Fellowes.
Fellowes kept his eyes on Ewan. ‘We’ve already established she doesn’t know where they’ve gone. In fact, she doesn’t seem to have much sympathy for you lot.’
‘She has nothing to do with this,’ Ewan said.
He leaned back in his chair with a creak. ‘You must have known when Heather called her ex that you were bringing a world of pain down on them.’
Ewan shook his head. ‘I knew you were an arsehole, but I didn’t realise you were into torture.’
‘I don’t enjoy it at all, to be honest. But needs must.’
‘Who the fuck are you?’
Fellowes smiled. ‘You’re the investigative journalist, you tell me.’
Ewan thought about what little he’d found online. Wondered how he could rattle his cage and took a leap. ‘MI7.’
Fellowes smile faltered. ‘No such organisation.’
‘That’s not what I heard.’
‘Conspiracy theories are the last resort of the crank.’
‘But sometimes they’re true.’
The nearest goon punched him, right cheek, almost knocking him off the chair. He tasted blood, spat onto the floor, looked at Iona.
‘Let her go,’ he said.
Fellowes leaned in and his face caught the light from outside. Ewan could see pock marks and creases, he was older than Ewan had thought.
‘So what is MI7?’ Fellowes said.
‘Secret government department. MI5 is internal threats, MI6 is international. MI7 is extraterrestrial.’
Fellowes nodded. ‘So you admit your little octopus friend is extraterrestrial.’
‘No, but you think they are.’
‘They? You mean there’s more than one?’
Ewan didn’t bother correcting him.
Fellowes’ features softened and he put his hands out to placate.
‘Look, you’ve got me all wrong. I only want to protect it. Others will come after me, and they won’t treat it with the respect I will. I just want to make sure it doesn’t come to any harm.’
Ewan felt sick. ‘The hole in my foot says otherwise.’
‘That was a mistake.’ Fellowes nodded at the goons. ‘They get a little overexcited. They come from special forces, you see. I don’t approve of their methods.’
Ewan swallowed as his foot flared up in pain. He nodded at Iona. ‘What about her?’
Fellowes shook his head. ‘Mistakes have been made. I hold my hands up.’ He did exactly that. ‘But these are high stakes, Ewan. What we’re dealing with is extraordinary. Life from elsewhere in the universe. Has it spoken to you yet?’
Ewan shook his head then he thought of something. ‘How do you know about that?’
‘So it does communicate?’ Fellowes narrowed his eyes. ‘But not with you. I presume with one of the others then. That must sting. Do you feel left out?’
Ewan felt pain washing over him. ‘Fuck you.’
Fellowes sighed. ‘You know, I come from a scientific background, astrobiology. I got roped into this stuff a long time ago and for years there was nothing. But this has always been my dream, to meet something from another planet.’
‘You never answered my question,’ Ewan said. ‘How do you know they communicate?’
Fellowes had a faraway look in his eyes, like he was remembering a time before all this.
Ewan realised. ‘You have another one, that’s how you know. Sandy isn’t alone.’
‘Sandy?’ Fellowes smiled. ‘You named it.’
‘Why do you want this one so much? Did you kill your one?’
The silence said it all. Fellowes looked sad as he stared at his hands. ‘Like I said before, mistakes have been made. We didn’t understand what we were doing, it was incredibly unfortunate.’ He straightened in his chair. ‘Now, tell me where they’ve gone.’
Ewan looked Fellowes in the eye. ‘I don’t know.’
Fellowes stuck his bottom lip out. Ewan thought about torture. No way he could withstand anything, he wasn’t that kind of man. The pain in his foot was too much already.
Fellowes nodded at one of the goons and Ewan tensed his body, gritted his teeth. But the guy walked to Iona and pulled his gun, pressed it against her temple. She was crying and sniffling, stretching her neck to get away.
‘Tell us,’ Fellowes said. ‘Now.’