Ark Angel

second attack. The man seemed crazed, as if he were on drugs. Perhaps he was. Or perhaps he found the experience of being in space as terrifying as Alex did.
    “Kaspar!” Alex wasn’t sure what to call him. What was his real name? Magnus Payne? But that wasn’t how the two knew each other. “It’s over,” he went on. “There’s no point in this. Drevin is dead. The CIA’s in control on Flamingo Bay.”
    “You’re lying!”
    “How do you think I got here? There’s nothing for you to do. Dropping Ark Angel on Washington—there’s no point. Drevin’s dead.”
    “No!”

    Two continents twisted in anger and disbelief as Kaspar kicked off, this time travelling diagonally down.
    Alex knew there was no point trying to reason with him. Whatever had happened on Flamingo Bay, Kaspar needed the Soyuz. Alex stood in his way. So Alex had to die.
    Kaspar flew towards him. Alex brought the hammer round and threw it with all his strength. For a moment he thought it would travel in slow motion. Wasn’t that what happened in films? But it didn’t. The hammer spun at full speed through the air and hit Kaspar on the shoulder. But would the hammer do any damage if it weighed nothing? Once again Alex thought back to his physics class, starting work on his GCSEs. The hammer picked up energy because of motion; the energy was dispersed when it came to rest.
    In this instance, it came to rest because it had hit Kaspar square on. Kaspar howled and dropped the knife.
    Energy dispersed equalled pain!
    But the forward motion was enough to send Alex stumbling back, and for a moment he lost control. His shoulders crashed into a wall. Or perhaps it was the ceiling or the floor. It made no difference. Kaspar had leapt forward. He plunged down as if he had been fired from a gun, and a second later he was on top of Alex.
    The blue and green skin of the man’s face was just inches away. Eyes full of hatred glared at him. Kaspar’s hands closed around his throat and began to tighten. The man was strangling him. And there was nothing Alex could do. He had no gadgets, no weapons. He couldn’t even move. He could feel metal plates against his shoulders, one of the lockers pressing into his back. Kaspar was floating horizontally above him, connected to Alex only by his hands. The breath was no longer reaching Alex’s lungs; the grip was too tight. He felt dizzy. In a few seconds he would pass out.
    Barely knowing what he was doing, he scrabbled behind him. His knuckles brushed against some sort of lever. What was it? Even as his consciousness began to leave him, Alex remembered. He knew what the lever did. But now he couldn’t find it. Desperately he lashed out and his flailing hand caught hold of it. He pulled down.
    The shutter opened and the light that had almost blinded him before exploded into the module a second time, shafting in over his shoulder. The window was facing directly into the sun and the light had a physical force as it burst in. Alex could feel it burning his neck and shoulders. The whole capsule seemed to disintegrate into a brilliant chaos of white and silver, all other colours sucked out.
    Kaspar screamed as the light seared his eyes. It was as if he had been punched in the face by the sun itself, and his hands fell away, instinctively coming up to protect himself. Alex brought his legs up and kicked; his feet slammed into Kaspar’s stomach. Alex’s back was against the wall, and Kaspar was sent hurtling towards the other side of the module.
    The Sabatier knife was right behind him.
    It had been hovering there, its deadly point aimed at Kaspar’s neck. As Kaspar travelled backwards it went with him, but then the handle came into contact with the wall. The blade entered the city of Beijing and continued its journey, burrowing into the world’s surface. Kaspar’s body jerked as if he had been electrocuted. Then he was still.
    Lying underneath him, Alex watched in disbelief. Kaspar’s arms were hanging down towards him. He was in the middle of the module, not touching any surface, suspended there. A string of bright crimson marbles appeared and began to orbit around his head. They grew larger. Now they were golf balls, trailing away, glistening red.
    The knife had severed an artery. Kaspar’s blood hung around him like a grotesque Christmas decoration.
    Alex had had enough. The module was heating up rapidly, still exposed to the sun, and he reached out and closed the shutter. A shadow fell across Kaspar’s