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are power cuts everywhere. We’re running on emergency generators. The National Grid’s completely shorted. It’s dark from Birmingham all the way to the coast. You’d better come back. ’
    Meena didn’t want to leave the action. ‘Mike, tell them there are still a lot of people trying to get out of town on the roads. Shouldn’t we stay out here to give them updates?’
    Mike passed her question on. The reply was instant. ‘ No point. The transmitter’s down. The emergency services want us to clear the airspace .’
    The Millennium Dome came up, shrunk to the size of a saucer. Meena saw that there were people standing on top, waving at the plane.
    ‘Mike, tell them to report to the emergency services that there are people on the Dome who need to be rescued,’ she said urgently.
    The next thing they saw was the Thames Barrier itself – the row of silver metal humps protruding from the water. The big ship was still stranded on one of them, a cluster of small boats tethered alongsideit like doctors attending a bedridden patient. Meena snapped it too. ‘Wow. I’ve seen some traffic accidents in my time but that one’s got to win the prize.’
    Mike spoke to Control. ‘Is there anything we can do before we come back in?’
    ‘ No. Just be thankful and get the hell out of there. ’

Chapter Thirteen
     
    Ben was still sitting on the pavement, his back against the wall. Rain washed down over his face, his hands, his clothes. He let it; at least it would hose off the river water.
    After a while he began to look around. He was on a road with grand-looking buildings on each side.
    There were pools of water everywhere, like the seashore after the tide has gone out. The water’s edge was a few metres away, lapping around the buildings on the south side of the road. Seagulls wheeled overhead. Geese strutted around the puddles. They must have been carried here from the lakes in the park. Aswan sat beside a wrecked car as though guarding it.
    But where were all the people?
    When he reached dry land, Ben had expected to find fire engines, ambulances, police officers, but he couldn’t see anyone – just a few abandoned vehicles. Just across the road, a van had crashed into a taxi and a car. Their bonnets were crumpled, the doors left open. The van’s windscreen had shattered and oil was leaking from underneath the taxi, giving the water an iridescent sheen.
    Only the wail of burglar and car alarms joined the desolate cries of the seagulls. Some of the sounds came from under the water, as though the drowned vehicles were calling for help.
    Ben got up and started to move. He was freezing. He stomped over to the taxi and peered in. There was nothing in it. Then he saw that the boot of the car had shot open; folded up inside, he could see a raincoat. Without even thinking he pulled it out and put it on.
    It must have been expensive – a pale grey Burberry mac with a checked interior, still dry despite the rain that had been pouring into the boot. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered. He didn’t know who he was talking to butit felt very wrong to be taking things like that. And his dirty wet top would probably leave marks on the lining. He couldn’t help it, though. He desperately needed to get warm.
    The next thought that came to him wiped the smile right off his face again: his wallet had fallen out of his pocket so he had no money and no ticket home. What should he do?
    Even with the coat, Ben began to shiver. He felt very, very alone.
    Why were there no people around? Why was no one organizing rescue parties? He wanted to find people who would know what to do. Like there had been at ArBonCo.
    Like at ArBonCo. He remembered Kabeera, Cheryl, Guang and difficult Richard, his companions on the raft. He wondered where their journeys had ended – who was it who had fallen off before him, and had the other three reached dry ground?
    He thought about Cally. Less than an hour ago she had been embarrassing him by telling him how he’d