Lost in a Good Book (Thursday Next 2)

I stared into Mr Stiggins's unblinking brown eyes. If I lied he would know. If I told him the truth he might feel it his duty to tell SO-1 that I had been involved in my father's work. With the world due to end and the trust in my father implicit, it was a kind of sticky moment, to say the least.

'They will ask you, Miss Next. Your evasion will not be appreciated.'

'I'll have to take that chance.'

Stiggins tilted his head to one side and regarded me for a moment.

'They know about your father, Miss Next. We advise you to be careful.'

I didn't say anything but to Stiggins I probably spoke volumes. Half the Thal language is about body movements. It's possible to conjugate verbs with facial muscles; dancing is conversation.

We didn't have a chance to say anything else as the door opened and Flanker and two other agents trooped in.

'You know my name,' he told me. 'These are agents King and Nosmo.'

The two officers stared at me unnervingly.

'This is a preliminary interview,' announced Flanker, who now fixed me with a steely gaze. 'There will be time enough for a full inquiry – if we so decide. Anything you say and do can affect the outcome of the hearing. It's really up to you, Next.'

He wasn't kidding. SO-1 were not within the law – they made the law. If they really meant business I wouldn't be here at all – I'd be spirited away to SpecOps Grand Central, wherever the hell that was. It was at times like this that I suddenly realised quite why my father had rebelled against SpecOps in the first place.

Flanker placed two tapes into the recorder and idented it with the date, time and all our names. Once this was done he asked in a voice made more menacing by its softness:

'You know why you are here?'

'For hitting a Skyrail operator?'

'Striking a Neanderthal is hardly a crime worthy of SO-1's valuable time, Miss Next. In fact, technically speaking, it's not a crime at all.'

'What, then?'

'When did you last see your father?'

The other SpecOps agents leaned forward imperceptibly to hear my answer. I wasn't going to make it easy for them.

'I don't have a father, Flanker – you know that. He was eradicated by your buddies in the ChronoGuard seventeen years ago.'

'Don't play me for a fool, Next,' warned Flanker. 'This is not something I care to joke about. Despite Colonel Next's non-actualisation he continues to be a thorn in our side. Again: when did you last see your father?'

'At my wedding.'

Flanker frowned and looked at his notes.

'You married? When?'

I told him and he squiggled a note in the margin.

'And what did he say when he turned up at your wedding?'

'Congratulations.'

He stared at me for a few moments, then changed tack.

'This incident with the Skyrail operator,' he began. 'You were convinced that he had a soap gun hidden about his person. According to a witness you thumped him on the chin, handcuffed and searched him. They said you seemed very surprised when you didn't find anything.'

I shrugged and remained silent.

'We don't give a sod about the Thal, Next. Your father deputising you is one thing, replacing you out of time is quite another. Is this what happened?'