The footsteps in the snow led from the boatshed to one of the iron walkways. Tom glimpsed a huge pair of shoulders and recognised the characteristic shape of a death troll. The creature had no right to be there. The marine science laboratory was a designated green area and death trolls were forbidden to enter green areas under any circumstances.
Someone had overridden the protocols governing troll behaviour and that was a major breach of security. Big Brain was falling apart. Crispin wasn't the only one tampering with the system. Others were and for a variety of reasons.
The carnival trucks hadn't been coded green by accident. The trolls hadn't erected a barrier across the highway by accident. The guardians were fighting one another. Some were supporting the resistance movement and others were opposed to it.
Which camp did the troll belong to?
Tom's instinct was to take the disgusting creature out at the first opportunity. A single blast with his ray gun was all that was needed. The troll would have to show itself again and would be an easy target. But killing it could be a bad mistake. Liala and Bryn had killed a creature which had been sent to protect them.
Death trolls were the guardians' ultimate survival weapon. When things got desperate they sent them in. The towering brutes weren't like ordinary trolls. You couldn't move them around like gaming pieces on a board.
They looked crude and that gave the impression they were stupid. Nothing could be further from the truth. Death trolls were surrogates. They were the bodily extensions of brains in jars. When you met a death troll you met a senior guardian with hundreds of years fighting experience.
An ally could be coming to their assistance. A friendly guardian could have chosen a death troll as his surrogate for the mission. That would be an obvious choice and the troll couldn't just turn up. It would have to sneak in to avoid detection.
Right now, it was threading its way through the maze of walkways leading to the computer room. Tom made a dash for a stairway and padded up it as silently as possible. He came face-to-face with the troll at the top.
The encounter appeared to be friendly. In so far as death trolls are capable of a smile, this one seemed to be smiling. And there was nothing unfriendly about the way it spoke.
'Professor. I expected to see you.'
Tom recognised the voice.
'We meet again, Doctor.'
The troll seemed surprised.
'You know who I am?'
'I do. You implanted my tracking device.'