'That's Eduard Martinez, who led the expedition to find the Mos Hadroch. On the table, please, Dakota. I want to run a full scan on you.'

'Why?'

'Because we can't afford you keeling over the way Ted Lamoureaux did.'

'You don't actually need a machine-head navigator to make a superluminal jump,' she pointed out. 'You could just set the parameters yourself.'

'Yes, but we still need you to tell us which way we're heading, and you can't do that if you wind up in a coma or worse.'

Conceding this point, Dakota reluctantly climbed up on to the examination table and lay back, sliding her fingers around thick moulded plastic handholds on either side. She watched the diagnostic gear move slowly down the length of her body, imaging her internal organs while simultaneously mapping her nervous system.

'I don't suppose there's a real doctor anywhere on this ship?'

Corso didn't reply, instead pushing himself away from the table and towards the desk and chair that formed the nurse's station. He grabbed hold of the back of the chair as he studied whatever a.n.a.lysis the med-bay's computers were now coming up with.

'Okay, Dakota.' He turned and glanced at her. 'I think it's time we talked. What did you mean when you said you destroyed your ship to get free?'

'I told you, I wasn't ready to-'

'Bulls.h.i.t. You just don't want want to talk about it, full stop. I don't care, but I want an explanation. I to talk about it, full stop. I don't care, but I want an explanation. I deserve deserve an explanation.' He nodded towards the two occupied medboxes. 'Those two wouldn't be in there if they didn't believe in what we've been trying to achieve over the last couple of years. People got killed when we boarded this frigate. Most of them weren't bad people either, Dakota. They were just doing their job, and now they're dead. So don't try and feed me any more c.r.a.p about not being ready.' an explanation.' He nodded towards the two occupied medboxes. 'Those two wouldn't be in there if they didn't believe in what we've been trying to achieve over the last couple of years. People got killed when we boarded this frigate. Most of them weren't bad people either, Dakota. They were just doing their job, and now they're dead. So don't try and feed me any more c.r.a.p about not being ready.'

Dakota realized that the corners of her eyes were damp, and blinked the incipient tears away. 'I told you things were different after the Magi brought me back from the dead.'

'Different in what way?'

'In that now I only ever go where the Magi ships want me to go. I don't get to have a say any more, not since I was resurrected. They made me, rebuilt me, and that makes me part part of them. But I'm still useful to them, whether I like it or not.' of them. But I'm still useful to them, whether I like it or not.'

'So you decided to do something about it.'

'The thing you have to understand,' she said, 'is that the Magi ships are hardwired to track down and destroy caches, and to find the ent.i.ty that made those caches the ent.i.ty we know as the Maker. Right?'

Corso nodded.

'Hardwired, Lucas. That means finding the Maker has a higher priority than anything else where the Magi ships are concerned, even higher than obeying their navigators.' Lucas. That means finding the Maker has a higher priority than anything else where the Magi ships are concerned, even higher than obeying their navigators.'

'So their original navigators weren't really in charge of their ships either?'

'It's more complicated than that. The original navigators were bred to their purpose, and because of that they shared the same obsessive goal as their ships did there could never be a conflict of interest. But they they were all wiped out, and when we came along, instead of making everything better again, it presented the Magi ships with a conflict. On the one hand they're programmed to obey our orders, but on the other they're overwhelmingly programmed to track down and destroy any caches and ultimately find the Maker.' were all wiped out, and when we came along, instead of making everything better again, it presented the Magi ships with a conflict. On the one hand they're programmed to obey our orders, but on the other they're overwhelmingly programmed to track down and destroy any caches and ultimately find the Maker.'

'So what can they do?'

'They can try to change their human navigators: remould them into something more compatible with their own mission. Except, instead, it's turning them into vegetables or if they're lucky just leaving them with permanent brain damage.'

'Jesus and Buddha,' Corso exclaimed. 'You're talking about the bends?'

There was a soft electronic chime and then the whirring diagnostic equipment slid back up towards the ceiling and fell silent. Dakota pulled herself upright and clasped her hands over her knees.

Corso glanced towards Lamoureaux's medbox, then back again, with an appalled expression on his face. 'You're seriously telling me the Magi ships are trying to turn our navigators into something that isn't human?'

'Trader once told me he didn't regard me as human anymore. I didn't really believe him at the time, but I understand what he meant a lot better now.'

She could see Corso was still struggling with this revelation. 'But it's not working, is it?' He nodded at Lamoureaux.

'No, it's not,' she admitted. 'At least not for most of us. But I can't say for certain they haven't already succeeded in turning other machine-heads into the image of their original navigators. Maybe we won't find out until something happens.'

'Like?'

'I think their first priority would probably be to destroy the cache at Tierra.'

She watched Corso try to a.s.similate this. 'What?'

'Remember their original mission, apart from tracking down the Maker, was to destroy caches wherever they could find them. They don't make exceptions.'

'But the Magi ships don't have weapons,' he pointed out. 'How could they . . . ?'

She smiled as Corso reached the obvious conclusion on his own, his eyes widening in horror. 'By destroying whichever star the cache is...o...b..ting, of course,' she said, finally pushing herself off the examination table.

'We have to warn them,' he said, in a half-croak.

'Sure, you could,' she replied, stepping over to the screen to study the details of her diagnostics, noticing the dark patches inside her skull where her implants were located. 'But think about it, Lucas. I heard the news about Consortium forces moving in and taking over the Tierra cache by force. They're not going to listen to anything you have to say. But, if it came to the worst and we did lose the Tierra system altogether, there are other caches out there, and we still have other ships we can use to find them.'

She watched him think this over. He'd try to warn them anyway, she had no doubt, because that was the kind of man he was: endlessly drawn to hopeless causes.

'So you destroyed your ship . . . ?'

'Because I couldn't trust it any more.'

Corso gaped at her, dumbfounded.

There was another chime, and the diagnostics display flashed a couple of times.

'What does it say?' she asked.

'That there are lesions in your brain,' Corso told her. 'The med-bay thinks you've suffered a grand mal grand mal seizure.' He reached out and touched the screen, and more information appeared. 'It's the same thing as Ted,' he observed. seizure.' He reached out and touched the screen, and more information appeared. 'It's the same thing as Ted,' he observed.

'I feel feel okay. And whatever changes the Magi made to my brain or Ted's, your med-bay isn't programmed to factor them in.' okay. And whatever changes the Magi made to my brain or Ted's, your med-bay isn't programmed to factor them in.'

'Well, one way or another, there are changes.'

'Will Ted be okay?'

Corso shrugged. 'We won't know until the medbox is finished with him. How are you feeling?' he asked, looking at her with a curious expression.

'About what?'

'I know you were . . .'he struggled to find the right word '. . . attached attached to your ship; to the experience of being joined with it.' to your ship; to the experience of being joined with it.'

'I'll deal with it,' she said abruptly. 'I'm not going to crack up like I did before.' She nodded towards the med-bay entrance. 'You said we should take a look at what we've gone to all this effort for. How about now?'

Ty Whitecloud looked up at the sound of the lab's airlock cycling, and realized he still had no idea if the Senator's plan to hijack the frigate had been successful. He sat at the lab's primary console, sudden tension knotting the muscles of his back.

The inner airlock door finally sighed open and Senator Corso entered the lab in the company of a woman he felt certain he had never seen before, but who looked familiar. After another moment, he recognized her from news archives as Dakota Merrick.

Her eyes were wide and dark, and she hardly seemed to blink. Her hair stood up in spiked tufts, giving the impression of someone who didn't get much sleep, and she was attractive, in a half-starved-looking sort of way. Had she, he wondered, already been on board the frigate when they arrived?

'Dakota, this is Nathan Driscoll,' said Corso, fixing Ty with a peculiar stare, as if to put particular emphasis on Ty's nom de guerre. nom de guerre. Corso had so far spoken to Ty only when absolutely necessary, and as on those occasions the Senator's distaste for him remained entirely evident. 'Nathan's responsible for the original research that led us to the Mos Hadroch. Without his help, we wouldn't have got this far.' Corso had so far spoken to Ty only when absolutely necessary, and as on those occasions the Senator's distaste for him remained entirely evident. 'Nathan's responsible for the original research that led us to the Mos Hadroch. Without his help, we wouldn't have got this far.'

Ty nodded wordlessly to Dakota, and crossed his hands on his lap so that the ring he had been given by the Consortium agent, and which he wore on his right hand, was hidden under the left palm.

He heard that high-pitched static-like sound again, but it rapidly increased in pitch until it pa.s.sed beyond his ability to hear it. He saw Merrick wince in that same moment, pressing the fingers of one hand against her temple.

She heard it too, he realized. A glance at the Senator confirmed that he appeared unaware of her distress. he realized. A glance at the Senator confirmed that he appeared unaware of her distress.

'I think it's time we had a look at exactly what we came here for,' said Corso. 'Mr Driscoll?'

Ty nodded and stood up. 'This way,' he said.

They pa.s.sed through another room, then came to the isolation chamber containing the Atn's remains.

Ty tapped some commands into a terminal mounted next to a sheet of polycarbonate armoured gla.s.s, through which the alien remains were visible. A moment later a long robot arm slid out from a recess in the chamber's ceiling, turning this way and that as it reached downwards, its machine-fingers spreading wide, each one of them tipped with a different kind of probe or instrument. It came to a halt just a few inches above the dead alien's carapace.

Ty inhaled deeply and stared at the alien body through the gla.s.s. I've waited a long time for this, I've waited a long time for this, he thought, then he exhaled slowly. he thought, then he exhaled slowly.

He quickly typed more commands into the terminal, and in response the upper right corner of the window darkened to show an image of the Atn's remains as seen from directly above. After another moment, this image was replaced by a series of vague outlines rendered in grey, which constantly shifted and altered.

Ty pointed to the monochrome images. 'This is from a multisystem scan I managed to run on the thing's body before they locked me out of the lab,' he explained. 'X-ray, muon, the works. Look here.' He pointed to a black shadow at the core of the image. 'There's something lodged inside the Atn's carapace, but it's completely opaque to everything I can throw at it.'

'And that's the Mos Hadroch?' asked Corso.

'I'm rather hoping it is, yes,' Ty replied, glancing at the Senator.

Merrick was frowning, clearly distracted by something. 'It's the Mos Hadroch, all right,' she said. 'It's been scanning me from the moment we walked into this lab.'

The two men stared at her.

'I'm serious,' she continued. Her eyes lost focus for a moment, and Ty thought she might faint. 'I think it's trying to find information about the swarm.'

'Maybe bringing you here wasn't such a good idea.' Corso began moving towards her.

She put up a hand. 'Wait, Lucas.'

'What does it want to know?' asked Ty, deeply fascinated.

She moved back against one wall, pressing a hand against the bulkhead behind her. 'The swarm's purpose,' she replied. 'Its reason for being.'

'Do you actually know that?' Corso asked, just beating White-cloud to it.

'Sure.' She shrugged. 'There are millions of swarms scattered all across the face of the universe, all in long-range contact with each other via tach-comms. They want to manipulate the underlying structure of reality.'

Corso laughed dismissively. 'Come on, that's ridiculous. Who ever-?'

'It's not ridiculous,' Ty interrupted him. 'Not if they're Wheeler-Korsh engines.'

Corso shook his head. 'Wheeler what what?'

A hypothetical technology that manipulates the fundamental properties of s.p.a.ce at its lowest possible level, where matter and information cease to be distinguishable,' Ty explained, glancing back into the chamber. He touched the terminal and several tiny cutting tools swung down until they almost touched the carapace. Wheeler-Korsh engines? Incredible. Wheeler-Korsh engines? Incredible. 'And if matter is only an expression of information,' he continued, 'then the universe itself is ultimately programmable, an infinitely complex computational system. Subatomic particles aren't really anything more substantial than a collection of data concerning spin, angle of momentum, location . . . that kind of thing. Some might say that this means there is no such thing as death, only iterations of a program that started running at the beginning of time.' 'And if matter is only an expression of information,' he continued, 'then the universe itself is ultimately programmable, an infinitely complex computational system. Subatomic particles aren't really anything more substantial than a collection of data concerning spin, angle of momentum, location . . . that kind of thing. Some might say that this means there is no such thing as death, only iterations of a program that started running at the beginning of time.'

'That sounds almost like religion,' said Dakota.

Ty froze for a moment, realizing how close he was coming to describing Uchidanism. 'It's pure speculation, of course,' he said, turning and forcing a smile. 'Unless one actually finds a Wheeler-Korsh engine, in which case it ceases to be just speculation.'

'It sounds pretty far-fetched,' said Corso, glaring.

Ty ignored him. 'How did you find this out?' he asked Dakota.

'I tapped into the swarm's collective mind when I went out to investigate it,' she explained. 'It's how I found out about the Mos Hadroch.'

'Wait a minute,' said Ty. 'You said they communicated by tach-comms, but if they're spread all across the universe, how could they power the signals to reach that far? You'd need power on an astronomical level to pull off something like that.'

'I watched them use the energy of a nova,' she explained, 'just to power a signal to a swarm located in another galaxy.'

Both men stared at her in silence for several moments.

'I should be used to having you completely f.u.c.k with my head by now,' the Senator finally grumbled, then turned to look at Ty. 'Mr Driscoll, I think it's time we cut that thing open and looked inside, don't you?'

Ty nodded and set to work. Tiny precision plasma jets began to cut into the Atn's carapace with smooth efficiency. Multi-jointed manipulators reached down, securing pieces of metal sh.e.l.l as the jets sliced through them.

The internal biological components of the Atn had long since turned to dust, though Ty made a mental note to a.n.a.lyse the remains of the brain when he had the time and opportunity. There was a chance that useful data might have survived.

'I can't tell you,' he muttered, 'how much I've been looking forward to this.'

Once a large enough hole had been cut, Ty stepped away from the terminal, and the entrance to the isolation chamber slid open. 'Let's take a look,' he said, stepping through.

The three of them crowded inside the small s.p.a.ce, which smelled of burned dust and hot metal. The Senator's earlier antipathy towards him appeared to have shifted into something like a grudging respect. It was Merrick that Ty could not make his mind up about: the news archives had carried accusations of murder and thievery. She struck Ty as someone who worked hard to keep her emotions under control, but certainly not the cold-blooded killer she had sometimes been made out to be.

'They're amazing creatures, the Atn,' said Ty, pulling on a pair of insulated gloves. The edges of the hole cut in the carapace still glowed faintly with trapped heat. 'There's strong evidence they've been around for longer than any other species we've come into contact with. Perhaps longer than even your Magi, Miss Merrick,' he added. 'And when we've shuffled off the galactic stage, they'll come wandering back through the empty ruins of our cities.'

'I wondered if maybe that was why they were entrusted with the Mos Hadroch in the first place,' said Dakota, watching as Ty squatted by the carapace. 'They operate on a timescale that pretty much beggars the imagination.'

'I think maybe we'd better get on with this, don't you?' said Corso with faint annoyance.

'Yes,' Ty agreed, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a slim torch.

He shone the light into the cavity and discovered that, as he suspected, the creature had been thoroughly gutted. The light played over something smooth, and he reached in past the jagged edges of the hole and touched it. To his surprise, it was very slightly warm to the touch. He shoved the handle end of his torch inside his mouth, to free his hands, then pushed both hands deep inside the cavity.

The object nestling inside the carapace was roughly conical in shape, its blunted point facing up towards him. Two bars like handles extended out and then upwards from the base of the cone, which at least gave him something to grab hold of.

Ty got a good grip on the object and lifted it out. Then Corso grabbed one handle, and together they lowered it to the deck. It was a pale cobalt-blue colour, and seemed to glow with a faint iridescence. There was something undeniably alien about the device, some nameless quality of otherness that sent a tingle of fear and excitement racing down Ty's spine.