Zidarov smiled dryly. ‘And that’s the problem. Vongella’s happy to burn Vidora. She could do that all day long. But Jazc? Hells, they bankroll everything. You ever noticed just how much kit we have with a Jazc stamp on it? They’re untouchable, and they’re legit. I could go to Castellan with all of this, and I’d wake up the next morning with a bag over my head in a dark room.’ He shook his head. ‘I remember where I saw the off-worlder, now. It was months ago, at the handover for that Bulwark refuel station. I saw the way he and Avro talked to Castellan. I thought they all looked like family, then, and I didn’t worry about it. That’s the way it’s always been. But it’s a problem now. Hells, it’s a big problem now.’

Brecht thought about that for a while, then nodded grimly. ‘So walk away.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Walk away, Zido. You spelled it out yourself – no one will help you.’

‘You weren’t in that warehouse.’

‘I’m glad.’ He leaned forward over the table. ‘I know what you want to do, and it’ll get you killed. Think of Lija. Think of Naxi. You got used. Worse things happen to us – ask Borodina.’

‘It’s going on, right now, right as we sit here.’

‘It always has done. You can’t clean everything up, just what you can grab in both hands. This is too big for your hands, my friend. Too big for any of us.’

Zidarov stared into his half-empty glass. ‘There are still things that bother me. When Udmil spoke to me, that first time, I could swear she was genuine. The way she talked about her son. I don’t usually get stuff like that wrong. And no one can tell me why she and Mordach ended up together in the first place, since they clearly loathe each other and always have done. The files are all empty. Things are hidden somewhere, I feel sure.’

Brecht laughed, and gestured to the server to bring another round. ‘Too far down. Too far down. Start digging there, and you’ll be working on your own grave-trench. And if you wanted my help in this, that favour I’m supposed to owe you, then forget it. I’ll do a lot for you, Zido, but I’m not crossing Jazc.’

‘I wasn’t talking about that.’ He finished the rezi. ‘Naxi’s not been home for a couple of days. I figured, maybe–’

‘I could spare the time.’

‘Something like that.’ Zidarov tilted his glass, and watched the dregs run around the base of it. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing. She’s done it before. But, you know. You worry.’

He didn’t say anything more about the warehouse, and how young the bleeders had been. That was his imagination running overtime, but still.