Eighth Circle

The pod suddenly lost power. Liala peered out of the window and saw that Bryn's pod had suffered a similar fate. He was following in the second combat pod and was losing height just as rapidly. She figured that Crispin was no longer in control. A brain in a jar had taken over and was out to destroy them.

The pilot's voice came over the intercom.

'Don't worry, folks. I'll get us down safely.'

He was one of the prisoners. About fifty had squeezed in with the Liala lookalikes. Most were resistance fighters and some knew enough about pods to fly them and handle the weapons on board.

Getting down wouldn't be easy. There could hardly be a worse place to make an emergency landing, They were in the heart of the industrial zone. Fires were raging on all sides and the entire area was crawling with trolls that had been sent in to fight the blaze.

The hulking brutes were standing around in groups, staring up at the pod as it hurtled towards them. Liala wondered what they were thinking. Anyone with any sense would have run for their lives. Then it occurred to her that thinking wasn't the correct word. Trolls didn't think. They were programmed to act.

They were programmed to put out fires, bow to royalty, check travel permits and kill people who threatened the guardians' hold on power. How they behaved depended on how they saw the world.

If she and the other Lialas were still coded green the trolls would go through the bowing and stomping routine. If their colour had been changed to brown they would demand to see their travel permits. If they had been changed to pink they would try to kill them.

She braced herself for the impact. They were heading for a small park with stands of trees and neat flowerbeds. The pod ploughed through the trees, wiped out a fire truck and splashed down in an ornamental lake. Bryn's pod obliterated a row of statues before grinding to a halt in a shrubbery.

The loss of the fire truck and destruction of the statues had no effect on the trolls. They continued to look gormless and made no attempt to help colleagues hit by flying branches. The gun crews turned their weapons on them.

'Never trust a troll,' one of the gunners said.

Black smoke rose from where the trolls had been standing. It filled the air and smelt of burning plastic and roast pork. Liala saw dark figures running through the smoke and recognised the Crispin lookalikes. They were heavily armed and coming straight at them.