The Chambers looked different today. The viewing balconies bulged with noisy spectators whilst below, the crescent rows of seats were unoccupied and expectant. In his jacket pocket, next to Axel’s letter, was a pine needle. He had taken it from one of the conifer trees in the lobby, for luck, and he could still sniff the aroma of the trees; the scent of mystery and far away places. Adelaide stood beside him. She was wearing a white trouser suit and tinted glasses and she’d done something to her hair, a new fringe that fell to her eyebrows. Vikram could not have imagined a more unlikely partner. She pointed to the balcony. “Your new fan base, that’s the Haze, are installed up there. The Council will be shuffling in shortly. So tell me, Mr Bai, how does it feel in the green room?” Vikram grinned in spite of himself, and the tie at his throat felt a little looser. Today, Adelaide’s irreverence was a tonic. Behind the podium, a gowned man was enthroned in a circular turret about two metres high.
