“Thank you for letting me aboard,” Seraphim said, the voice emanating from somewhere beneath his throat.
Dreyfus introduced himself, then escorted the Ultra into the cutter’s habitation area.
“Is there anything I can offer you by way of hospitality?”
“Can you run to blood dialysis?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“That’s a pity. My ship’s having trouble purging my fatigue poisons. I think the filters need changing, but I can’t ever seem to find the time to return to the central servicing facility.”
“How about coffee instead?”
“I’ll pass, Prefect. Now: concerning this disagreeable subject we were about to touch on.”
“Nine hundred and sixty casualties. That’s way beyond disagreeable. Those people weren’t ever on my radar, Harbourmaster. That means they were just decent human beings trying to get on with their lives without hurting anyone else. None of them made it out alive.”
“I’m sorry about the deaths. Truly, I am. We do have souls, Prefect Dreyfus. We do have consciences. But I assure you this could not have been what it appears to be.”
“I can place the Accompaniment of Shadows near enough to rule out the involvement of any other ship.” Seraphim touched one hand to the side of his breather mask, as if making some microscopic adjustment to his airflow settings.
“Have you considered the possibility that someone else committed the crime, yet wished it to appear the work of an innocent crew who just happened to be in the neighbourhood?”
“There’s nothing my boss and I would rather have than an excuse not to stir up trouble with the Ultras.
But we know of only one thing that could have sliced open the Ruskin-Sartorious Bubble, and that’s a Conjoiner drive.”
“You’ve ruled out the possibility of something else: a weapon, for instance?”
“There’s nothing that could have done that.”
“Maybe nothing known to us now. But no one would deny that things were created in the past—terrible, destructive things—that may have survived into the present era. We’ve all heard talk of the hell-class weapons —”
“I’m a prefect, Seraphim,” Dreyfus said patiently.
“I deal in known facts, not speculation. And I don’t have to look for some fabled weapon from the dark ages. I have proof that a drive was involved. That’s all I need.”
“There must still be a mistake. No crew would perpetrate such an atrocity.”
“Even if a deal went sour?”
“Children act out of spite, Prefect Dreyfus. We’re not children.”
“All right. What about an accident?”
“A Conjoiner drive doesn’t just switch on spontaneously.”
“Fine. Then someone had to have their hands on the controls. Glad we cleared that up.”
“We’ve cleared nothing up. What are you expecting me to do?”
“I want you to prevent the Accompaniment of Shadows from leaving the Swarm. That’s step one. Step two is you stop any of her crew from jumping ship. Step three is you use your influence to bring the captain to justice.”
“That’s a lot of steps you’re asking for, Prefect.”
“It’s my job.”
“And if I don’t do as you say?”
“We’ll have to review the existing trading arrangements. There are ten thousand habitats open for business in the Glitter Band, Harbourmaster. But you don’t get to talk to any of them without our blessing.”
“We’d find workarounds.”
“I don’t doubt it. But I’d like to see how your profit margins hold up. I imagine things might get very unpleasant for a man in your position.”
“Don’t ever threaten us, Prefect,” the Harbourmaster said.
“Why not?”
“Because you need us a great deal more than we need you.” Sparver knocked before entering Thalia’s office, even though the passwall was transparent. As a Deputy Field III—the highest ranking before promotion to full field status—Sparver was two full grades above Thalia. He would have been within his official rights had he walked in unannounced, as Dreyfus would most likely have done. But in all his dealings with Thalia, ever since she’d joined the team, Sparver had scrupulously treated her as an exact equal. The daughter of Jason Ng had enough to deal with without petty displays of rank, especially from another deputy.
“Boss man keeping you busy?” he said, as Thalia looked around from her work.
“It can’t be helped.” She took a swig from a coffee flask before rubbing her eyelids.
“The Perigal issue was already a high-priority item before Ruskin-Sartorious came in. I’m just glad that Dreyfus trusts me to handle both tasks.” Sparver stood next to her console, scanning the information scrolling past on multiple panes. Thalia made light of her speed-reading ability, but her Klausner index was still much higher than his own.
“The boss trusts you. Don’t worry about that.”
“But he has his doubts.”
“Why d’you say that?” Thalia stopped the scrolling panes.
“It would have made sense for me to go out to the Ruskin-Sartorious Bubble. I know core architecture better than anyone.”
“But you were already busy.”
“I’m even busier now. That wasn’t really an argument for me not coming along.”
“Dreyfus knew I could take care of the core,” Sparver said.
“If we’d run into anything thorny, you could have signed out a cutter and met us at the Bubble within an hour.”
“I suppose so.”
“Thalia, listen to me. The boss thinks very highly of you. He may not show it, but that’s just his way. He wouldn’t have brought you onto the team in the first place if he thought otherwise. Trust me on this.”
“I’m just worried that he thinks I’m under-performing.”
“Has he said anything to that effect?” Thalia frowned.
“Not exactly, no.”
“Well, then.”
“I still can’t help wondering why he didn’t ask me along to the Bubble.”
“Because it was a potentially dangerous operation.”
“More so than a lockdown?”
“Potentially. If someone wanted to destroy the Bubble that badly, they could easily have come back for another go if they saw prefects crawling all over it.”
“But they didn’t.”
“Point still stands. Reason Dreyfus didn’t ask you to join the team—apart from the fact that he was trying not to exhaust you—was that he didn’t want to place one of his best deputies in a high-risk environment. Lockdown’s different—you had to be on the squad. But this time? I think the boss made the right call. And it has nothing to do with your abilities not measuring up.”
Thalia looked sheepish.
“I guess all this sounds silly to you.”
“Not at all. When I first started working with him, I spent months wondering what the hell I was doing wrong. Not a word of praise ever escaped his lips. Then slowly it dawned on me: if Dreyfus keeps you on the team, that’s the praise.”
“But now… it’s different, right?”
“Not really. Once in a blue moon he throws me a crumb of encouragement, but other than that I get exactly the same treatment as you.”
“It doesn’t look that way.”
