It should have been six in the morning when they arrived but, because of the time difference, it was only eleven p.m. There were no palm trees, no warm sunny breezes, just a chilly wind and a desolate view. Four lights on poles, two beat up tin buildings and three enormous gas tanks made up the bulk of the airfield, while the runway was a barely marked scratching in the desert ground. A rocky plain stretched around them and scraggy brown mountains stood in the distance, reaching towards an endless black sky. It certainly wasn't a busy place.
The air was too dry to be oppressive, but there was something in it that made Katelina feel as though she was nothing more than an insect crawling across the face of a rock; as if they were all insects of no consequence and would soon be gone without
