Chapter Twenty-Eight
The humachine creaked alarmingly, turning its head to face them full on. ‘I am Serviceman Hallen. You have approached Alpha Gate of the Pale. What do you seek?’ The words had the flavour of long-practised scripts, as if the speaker mouthed them without understanding their meaning.
Feather frowned. If he had not been taught, all his life, to fear and loathe these half-machine humans, he would have sworn that this one was not a threat to them. He felt instead a kind of anxiety, a fear for Serviceman Hallen rather than a fear of him. As far as Feather’s senses told him, Hallen was not dangerous to them, but instead, dangerously close to collapse. As often in the past, Feather trusted his instincts.
‘Serviceman Hallen, we seek information about some refugees. We see sig
