ship if I didn’t.’
Antoinette nodded, stooping back along the connecting corridor. ‘You did right, Xave. Don’t eat yourself up over it. Well, who are these clowns? Have they introduced themselves?’
‘The tall one’s Mr Clock. The other one, the pig, he’s Mr Pink.’
The two of them nodded in turn as Xavier spoke their names.
‘But who are they?’
‘They haven’t said, but here’s a wild stab in the dark. They’re interested in Clavain. I think they might possibly be spiders, or working for the spiders.’
‘Are you?’ Antoinette asked.
‘Hardly,’ Remontoire said. ‘And as for my friend here…’
Mr Pink shook his gargoylelike head. ‘Not me.’
‘I’d let you examine us if the circumstances were more amenable,’ Remontoire continued. ‘I assure you there are no Conjoiner implants in either of us.’
‘Which doesn’t mean you aren’t spider stooges,’ Antoinette said. ‘Now, what do I need to do in order for you to get the fuck off my ship?’
‘As Mr Liu correctly judged, we’re interested in Nevil Clavain. Have a seat…’ The one called Clock said it with steely emphasis this time. ‘Please, let’s be civil.’
Antoinette folded out a chair from the wall and parked herself in it. ‘I’ve never heard of anyone called Clavain,’ she said.
‘But your partner has.’
‘Yeah. Nice one, Xave.’ She gave him a look. Why couldn’t he have just pleaded ignorance?
‘It’s no good, Antoinette,’ Clock said. ‘We know that you brought him here. We are not in any way angry with you for doing that — it was the human thing to do, after all.’
She folded her arms. ‘And?’
‘All you have to do is tell us what happened next. Where Clavain went once you brought him to Carousel New Copenhagen.’
I don’t know.‘
‘So he just magically disappeared, is that it? Without a word of thanks, or any indication of what he was going to do next?’
‘Clavain told me the less I knew the better.’
Clock looked at the pig for a moment. Antoinette decided that she had scored a point. Clavain
She added, ‘Of course, I kept asking him. I was curious about what he was doing here. I knew he was a spider, too. But he wouldn’t tell me. Said it was for my own good. I argued, but he stuck to his guns. I’m glad he did now. There’s nothing you can force me to tell you because I simply don’t know.’
‘So just tell us exactly what happened,’ Clock said soothingly. ‘That’s all you have to do. We’ll work out what Clavain had in mind, and then we’ll be on our way. You’ll never hear from us again.’
I told you, he just left. No word of where he was going, nothing. Goodbye and thanks. That was all he said.‘
‘He wouldn’t have had documentation or money,’ Clock said, as if to himself, ‘so he couldn’t have got far without a little help from you. If he didn’t ask for money, he’s probably still on Carousel New Copenhagen.’ The thin, deathly pale man leaned toward her. ‘So tell me. Did he ask for anything?’
‘No,’ she said, with just the tiniest hesitation.
‘She’s lying,’ the pig said.
Clock nodded gravely. I think you’re right, Mr Pink. I hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but there you have it. Needs must, as they say. Do you have the item, Mr Pink?‘
‘The item, Mr Clock? You mean…’
Between the pig’s feet was a perfectly black box, like an oblong of shadow. He pushed it forwards, leaned down and touched some hidden mechanism. The box shuffled open to reveal many more compartments than appeared feasible from its size. Each held a piece of polished silver machinery nesting in precisely shaped cushioning foam. Mr Pink took out one of the pieces and held it up for scrutiny. Then he took out another piece and connected the two together. Despite the clumsiness of his hands he worked with great care, his eyes focused sharply on the work in progress.
‘He’ll have it ready in a jiffy,’ Clock said. ‘It’s a field trawl, Antoinette. Of spider manufacture, I’m obliged to add. Do you know a great deal about trawls?’
‘Fuck off.’
‘Well, I’ll tell you anyway. It’s perfectly safe, isn’t it, Mr Pink?’
‘Perfectly safe, Mr Clock.’
‘Or at least, there’s no reason why it shouldn’t be. But field trawls are a different matter, aren’t they? They’re not nearly as proven as the larger models. They have a much higher probability of leaving the subject with neural damage. Even death isn’t entirely unheard of, is it, Mr Pink?’
The pig looked up from his activities. ‘One hears things, Mr Clock. One hears things.’
‘Well, I’m sure the detrimental effects are exaggerated… but nonetheless, it’s not at all advisable to use a field trawl when there are alternative procedures available.’ Clock made eye contact with Antoinette again. His eyes were sunk deep inside their sockets and his appearance made her want to look away. ‘Are you quite sure Clavain didn’t say where he was going?’
‘I told you, he didn’t…’
‘Continue, Mr Pink.’
‘Wait,’ Xavier said.
They all looked at him, even the pig. Xavier started to say something else. And then the ship began to shake, quite without warning, yawing and twisting against its docking constraints. Its chemical thrusters were firing, loosing pulses of gas in opposing directions, the din of it like a cannonade.
The airlock behind Antoinette closed. She grabbed at a railing for support, and then tugged a belt across her waist.
Something was happening. She had no idea what, but it was definitely something. Through the nearest window she saw the repair bay choking in dense orange propellant fumes. Something broke free with a screech of severed metal. The ship lurched even more violently.
‘Xavier…’ she mouthed.
But Xavier had already got himself into a seat.
And they were falling.
She watched the pig and Clock scramble for support. They folded down their own seats and webbed themselves in. Antoinette seriously doubted that they had much more of an idea than she did about what was going on. Equally, they were smart enough not to want to be untethered aboard a ship that gave every indication that it was about to do something violent.
They hit something. The collision compressed every bone in her spine. The repair bay door, she thought — Xavier had pressurised the well so he and his monkeys could work without suits. The ship had just rammed into the door.
The ship rose again. She felt the lightness in her belly.
And then it dropped.
This time there was only a muffled bump as they hit the door. Through the window Antoinette saw the orange smoke vanish in an instant. The repair bay had just lost all its air. The walls slid past as the ship pushed its way into space.
‘Make this stop,’ Clock said.
‘It’s out of my hands, buddy,’ Xavier told him.
‘This is a trick,’ the spider said. ‘You wanted us aboard the ship all along.’
‘So sue me,’ Xavier said.
‘Xavier…’ Antoinette did not have to shout. It was perfectly silent aboard
