their remodelling machines into his skull and becoming one of the hive-mind spiders. And that was when Clavain more or less dropped out of history. Antoinette skimmed the remaining records and found numerous anecdotal reports of him popping up here and there over the next four-hundred-odd years. It was possible; she could not deny that. Clavain had been getting on a bit before he defected, but with freezing and the time dilation that naturally accompanied any amount of star travel, he might not have lived through more than a few decades of those four centuries. And that was not even allowing for the kind of rejuvenation therapies that had been possible before the plague. No, it could have been Clavain — but it could equally well have been someone else with the same name. What were the chances of Antoinette Bax’s life intersecting with that of a major historical figure? Things like that just didn’t happen to her. Something disturbed her. There was a commotion outside the office, the sound of things toppling and scraping, Xavier’s voice raised in protest. Antoinette killed the terminal and went outside. What she found made her gasp. Xavier was up against one wall, his feet an inch from the floor. He was pinned there — painfully, she judged — by one manipulator of a multi-armed gloss-black police proxy. The machine — again it made her think of a nightmarish collision of pairs of huge black scissors — had barged into the office, knocking over cabinets and potted plants. She looked at the proxy. Although they all appeared to be more or less identical, she just knew this was the same one, being slaved by the same pilot, that had come to pay her visit aboard Storm Bird . ‘Fuck,’ Antoinette said. ‘Miss Bax.’ The machine lowered Xavier to the ground, none too gently. Xavier coughed, winded, rubbing a raw spot beneath his throat. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a series of hoarse hacking vowels. ‘Mr Liu was impeding me in the course of my inquiries,’ the proxy said. Xavier coughed again. ‘I… just… didn’t get out of the way fast enough.’ ‘Are you all right, Xave?’ Antoinette asked I’m all right,‘ he said, regaining some of the colour he had lost a moment earlier. He turned to the machine, which was occupying most of the office, flicking things over and examining other things with its multitude of limbs. ’What the fuck do you want?‘ ‘Answers, Mr Liu. Answers to exactly the questions that were troubling me upon my last visit.’ Antoinette glared at the machine. ‘This fucker paid you a visit while I was away?’ The machine answered her. ‘I most certainly did, Miss Bax — seeing as you were so unforthcoming, I felt it necessary.’ Xavier looked at Antoinette. ‘He boarded Storm Bird ,’ she confirmed ‘And?’ The proxy overturned a filing cabinet, rummaging with bored intent through the spilled paperwork. ‘Miss Bax showed me that she was carrying a passenger in a reefersleep casket. Her story, which was verified by Hospice Idlewild, was that there had been some kind of administrative confusion, and that the body was in the process of being returned to the Hospice.’ Antoinette shrugged, knowing she was going to have to bluff this one out. ‘So?’ ‘The body was already dead. And you never arrived at the Hospice. You steered for interplanetary space shortly after I departed.’ ‘Why would I have done that?’ ‘That, Miss Bax, is precisely what I would like to know.’ The proxy abandoned the paperwork, kicking the cabinet aside with a whining flick of one sharp-edged piston-driven limb. ‘I asked Mr Liu, and he was no help at all. Were you, Mr Liu?’ ‘I told you what I knew.’ ‘Perhaps I should take a special interest in you too, Mr Liu — what do you think? You have a very interesting past, judging by police records. You knew James Bax very well, didn’t you?’ Xavier shrugged. ‘Who didn’t?’ ‘You worked for him. That implies a more than passing knowledge of the man, wouldn’t you say?’ ‘We had a business arrangement. I fixed his ship. I fix a lot of ships. It didn’t mean we were married.’ ‘But you were undoubtedly aware that James Bax was a figure of concern to us, Mr Liu. A man not overly bothered about matters of right and wrong. A man not greatly troubled by anything so inconsequential as the law.’ ‘How was he to know?’ Xavier argued. ‘You fuckers make the law up as you go along.’ The proxy moved with blinding speed, becoming a whirling black blur. Antoinette felt the breeze as it moved. The next thing she knew it had Xavier pinned to the wall again, higher this time, and with what looked like a good deal more force. He was choking, clawing at the machine’s manipulators in a desperate effort to free himself. ‘Did you know, Mr Liu, that the Merrick case has never been satisfactorily closed?’ Xavier couldn’t answer. ‘The Merrick case?’ Antoinette asked. ‘Lyle Merrick,’ the proxy replied. ‘You know the fellow. A trader, like your father. On the wrong side of the law.’ ‘Lyle Merrick died…’ Xavier was beginning to turn blue. ‘But the case has never been closed, Miss Bax. There have always been a number of loose ends. What do you know of the Mandelstam Ruling?’ ‘Another one of your fucking new laws, by any chance?’ The machine let Xavier fall to the floor. He was unconscious. She hoped he was unconscious. ‘Your father knew Lyle Merrick, Miss Bax. Xavier Liu knew your father. Mr Liu almost certainly knew Lyle Merrick. What with that and your propensity for ferrying dead bodies into the war zone for no logical reason that we can think of, it’s hardly any wonder that you two are of such interest to us, is it?’ ‘If you touch Xavier one more time…’ ‘What, Miss Bax?’ ‘I’ll…’ ‘You’ll do nothing. You’re powerless here. There aren’t even any security cameras or mites in this room. I know. I checked first.’ ‘Fucker.’ The machine edged closer to her. ‘Of course, you could be carrying some form of concealed device, I suppose.’