8:09pm

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'Less than four hours left now, my Queen.'

Steadman's sudden voice from the pit's wall-mounted speakers almost broke my concentration.

'Three hours and fifty-one minutes, to be precise,' he added unnecessarily. 'What's your situation?'

'I now control the Barbican,' I said aloud, through the young man's mouth. 'I took the staff first: I used them to seal the exits, then drove everyone else into the foyer, where-'

'I know,' said Steadman.

'You . . . know?' In the darkness of my pit I waited, puzzled.

'You are surprised, my Queen?' said Steadman. 'You thought I would let you loose without keeping an eye on you?' He chuckled drily. 'What you've achieved so far is... promising. One begins to see why the Corporation felt driven to do what it did to stop you in sixteen sixty-six. But we are stronger now. I have eyes everywhere. I am watching you - never forget it.

'Besides which,' he went on, 'you are mistaken. You do not, in fact, control everyone in the Barbican. Right now, at this moment, I can see that eight... children' - he said the word with disgust - 'are escaping from the foyer in one of the elevators.'

My turn: 'I know.'

There was a short silence, during which my brief satisfaction at giving Steadman a taste of his own medicine was somewhat spoiled by the knowledge that I was still utterly at his mercy. If he chose to end his 'bet' now, he could simply leave. The Barbican was a deathtrap, and I would die his prisoner.

'Well,' said Steadman, 'I've taken steps to ensure they can't call for help. What I want to know is, what are you going to do about them?'

'The children have not escaped, Steadman,' I explained. 'I too now have eyes all over the building - including,' I added, 'in that lift. Everything is under my control.'

'We'll know by midnight,' was Steadman's answer.

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