“No.” Her reply had been too fast, too urgent. “I’ll check the case, but I need to keep this box with me.” She was clutching it hard against her chest, unable to prevent her reaction.

“All right.” He looked it over with an experienced eye. “I don’t think you’ll quite get it under the seat. That’s all right, though, you’ll have lots of spare room fore and aft.” He glanced at the display of her reservation, checking it for dates. “I see your ticket was paid by the Antigeria Labs. You’re with them, are you?”

A mistake. If their fears were real, she and Gregor should never have used the lab’s name in booking the ticket.

“Yes.” She swallowed. “My husband is the Director.”

She hesitated, wondering whether to add more, but he was nodding absently. It must just be a bored midnight conversation to him. Surely he had no real interest in an unkempt, eight-months-pregnant woman? She picked up her ticket and turned to leave.

“Just a second, Mrs. Merlin.”

She froze, as the clerk’s voice rang out behind her. She turned slowly. He was smiling and holding out a yellow square of paper. “You’re forgetting your boarding pass.”

She took it from him without speaking and walked on slowly to the gate. As she passed the security checks, Gregor’s voice began again in her ear.

“Julia. Julia, I don’t know if you can still hear me, but it’s worse than we thought. I got through to Morrison in Building Two, and he completed the first test on the other Goblin. He agrees with your analysis, there’s conclusive evidence of induced progeria. We were only two minutes on the video, then the link failed at his end.”

His voice was thin and reedy through the tiny implant, but she could hear the tension. “I’m standing at the window now,” he went on. “There’s a fire across in Building Two and the exits are being watched here. I don’t see any way of getting out. You have to get the other Goblin over to the Carlsberg Lab, and let McGill take a look at it.”