Zidarov made notes the whole time. There were a lot of guards for such an unpromising-looking location. Something worth protecting was in that storage unit, and Zidarov worked on the assumption that more armed guards were probably inside. He swept his viewfinder up to the ventilation units. He applied a temperature filter, and saw that the grilles were kicking out plenty of heat and moisture.

Then the slide-doors opened again, and two more operatives wheeled something out. It had the look of a medicae couch – a metal rig with a padded recliner seat, the arms of which contained inline chirurgeon-jacks. The contraption clattered along on wheels, and long trailing tubes hung from an overhanging fluid-array. He looked closer, and saw wrist and ankle shackles welded onto the frame. The upholstery looked stained. The first of the men in the courtyard, the one in worker clothes, took a look at it under the watchful eyes of the Second Circle Vidora. He shook his head, then started to fiddle with the equipment. Zidarov realised that his gloves weren’t removable – they were tooling aids, grafted onto his fingers. He was a mechanic.

As he did this, Zidarov was able to push the auspex to its magnification limit, and use an enhancer-algorithm to pierce the shadows of the open doorway. Everything within the storage unit was grainy, poorly lit, but he did pick up more guards standing just under the lintel, and what looked like rows of medicae couches lined up against an inner wall. These couches were all occupied, as far as he could see – thin bodies, locked down, surrounded by webs of tubing. None of them were moving, and it seemed as if they had masks placed over their faces. Above the couches, on a long shelf, sat transparent vials, pipes and monitoring equipment.

Then the slide-doors closed, and his glimpse into the unit’s interior was cut off. Some of the guards wandered out of view. The Second Circle operatives and the mechanic remained crowded around the faulty couch-rig.

Zidarov cut off the recording and set the auspex down. He brought up some of the still picts and took another look at them. He hadn’t liked looking at it in real time, and it got no better on a rerun. He’d seen places like this before in other contexts. The Vidora really weren’t in the business of helping sick people to get better, and none of those lying on the couches were there by choice.

Zidarov got up, shuffling back across the platform before turning and heading down the ladder again. As he did so, he put in a priority consult-request with Vongella.

He’d be back again soon.

Chapter Six

Chapter Six