Slowly, warily, Mac and the Rock Star lowered their weapons.
Inteachán moved to one side, allowing her to keep a close eye on the man in the wheelchair. Mac pulled a chair close and sat down.
‘So,’ sneered the Rock Star, ‘this is cosy. The three of us sitting here waiting for the world to end.’
‘But why do you want it to end?’ asked Inteachán. ‘It looks like the world has been pretty good to you.’
The Rock Star smiled but Mac interrupted before he could answer.
‘He doesn’t want anything,’ boomed the elderly academic. ‘He doesn’t even know what he is doing.’
Mac looked around the room.
‘As if these scribbles were really part of the plan.’