“I hope you’re on the plane by now, Julia. It looks as though it was the right decision. I’m still here in the lab, but all the exits are covered. I still can’t get any messages out over the standard com-links. I’m going to see if I can signal Morrison, over in Building Two. Keep going, and take care.”

Gregor’s voice ceased in her ears as she entered the main Christchurch terminal and looked about her. It was almost two A.M. There were few flights out at this hour, and few people around. That might be both good and bad. She ought to be able to spot anyone seeking her, but perhaps no one would be there to save her and her burden from harm. She walked cautiously over to the ticket desk and looked at the departure display board. One flight was listed in the next hour. It was the one she wanted — and it was running on time. She went slowly up to the counter, where one tired young clerk was on duty.

He yawned at her. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Do you have a reservation for Merlin, Julia Merlin?”

Had she and Gregor made a mistake, booking the flight under her real name? She glanced around. The terminal was empty, except for two young men stretched out asleep on the long couch by the far wall.

“Right here.” The clerk keyed in her confirmation for the flight. “Flight 157, transpolar to Capetown. Pre-paid ticket for one.” He looked at her swelling belly and smiled. “I guess that’s really for two, right?”

She nodded and forced an answering smile. “One more month. Don’t ever believe anybody who tells you a pregnancy is nine months. It feels like five times that.”

He was nodding, not listening closely. “You’ll be boarding in about twenty minutes. Flight time will be three and a half hours.” He looked apologetic. “It’s not the fastest equipment on this run, less than Mach Three all the way. People who fly in the middle of the night don’t seem to be in much of a hurry, I guess. There’ll only be about fifty of you on this one — at least you’ll be able to stretch out, maybe take a nap. Now, what about luggage? Checking both of them?”