‘I might ask the same question, Prefect.’
‘I have legal authority in this airspace. That’s all you need to know. I presume I’m dealing with an assigned representative of the Swarm?’
After a pause — which had nothing to do with timelag — the voice replied: ‘You may call me Harbourmaster Seraphim. I speak for all ships gathered in the Swarm, or docked at the central servicing facility.’
‘Would that make you an Ultra?’
‘By your very narrow definition of the term, no. I do not owe my allegiance to any single ship or crew. But while they are here, all crews are answerable to me.’
Dreyfus racked his memory, but he did not recall any prior dealings with anyone called Seraphim, Ultra or otherwise.
‘That’ll make life a lot easier, then.’
‘I’m sorry, Prefect?’
‘It could be that I need access to one of your crews.’
‘That would be somewhat irregular.’
‘Not as irregular as turning a drive beam on a habitat containing nine hundred and sixty people, Harbourmaster.’
Again, there was a lengthy pause. Dreyfus felt a prickle of sweat on the back of his hands. He had jumped the gun by mentioning Ruskin-Sartorious, which was in express contravention of Jane Aumonier’s instructions. But Aumonier had not counted on Dreyfus being approached by someone willing to speak for the entire Swarm.
‘Why are your weapons in a state of readiness, Prefect? I can see them through your hull, despite your baffle-cladding. You’re not nervous, are you?’
‘Just sensible. If I could see your weapons, I’d expect them to be in a state of readiness as well.’
‘Touche,’ Harbourmaster Seraphim said, with a chuckle. ‘But I’m not nervous. I have a duty to protect my Swarm.’
‘One of your ships could do a lot more damage than one of ours. I think that’s already been adequately demonstrated.’
‘Yes, so you said. That’s a serious accusation.’
‘I wouldn’t make it if I didn’t have solid proof.’
‘Such as?’
‘Shipping movements. Forensic samples from the habitat, consistent with torching from one of your drives. I can even give you the name of a ship, if you—’
‘I think we need to speak in person,’ Harbourmaster Seraphim said, with an urgency Dreyfus hadn’t been expecting. ‘Stand your weapons down, please. I am about to approach and initiate hard docking with your ventral airlock.’
‘I haven’t given you permission.’
‘But you’re about to,’ Harbourmaster Seraphim replied.
As the lock cycled — coping with the different pressure and atmospheric-mix protocols in force on both ships — Dreyfus emptied his mind of all preconceptions. It never paid to make assumptions about the physical manifestations of Ultras. They could look as fully human as any Panoply operative, and yet be crawling with furtive and dangerous machines.
Dreyfus had seen stranger than Harbourmaster Seraphim, though. His limbs and torso were encased in the bright green armour of a powered exoskeleton. His head had a shrunken look to it, his mouth and nose hidden behind a grilled silver breathing device that appeared to be grafted in place. There was a chrome-plated input socket set into the left side of his skull — Ultras favoured direct hook-up when they interfaced with their machines — but other than that there was no suggestion of extensive cyborgisation. He had long, black hair drawn back into a single braided tail. His delicate, pale hands reminded Dreyfus of the imprint of a bird’s wings in ancient rock.
‘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
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
‘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
‘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.’
