He saw a vision in his mind of the statue, somewhere behind that cloud of dust, with a deep crack running down its length. The depth of the devastation became surreal. Even the worst of the disaster around him lost all importance. The wailing of people faded from his thoughts.

He lowered the scanner in dismay, but as it passed over the crowd his attention was caught by a single red dot that was racing across the Square. He watched it move through the masses, hardly different from those around it; but it carried a faint shimmer like it was laced with gold, and to his trained eyes it virtually leapt off the screen.

“Son of a witch,” he thought.

Without a second’s hesitation, he gave chase. He leapt over piles of debris and jagged stonework, and dodged...

Please subscribe to keep reading.