As he came in, Vongella was in her usual position, her head in her hands, staring at a dataslate on the desk in front of her. Zidarov took a seat in one of the chairs, and waited.

She was a large woman. ‘Big-boned’ as Zidarov’s mother would have said. She wore a slimline protection-suit under a black knee-length jacket. Her hair was jet black too, cut neck-length, and her skin was as white as a baby’s first tooth. Her facial features were angular, with a squarish jawline and thin lips. You had to get up-close to really see it, but her left cheek was entirely artificial – the result of a patch-up after a run in with a Chakshia warlord nine years ago. When she smiled, sometimes you saw the synthflesh catch on the reconstructed cheekbone underneath.

After a fair while, she looked up at him.

‘You know what you’re asking for?’ she said, testily.

‘I don’t do it often, Castellan,’ said Zidarov.

‘That doesn’t matter.’

‘I know Draj’s squad is looking for work. I could give them some.’

‘I bet you could. But you don’t assign them. I do.’

Zidarov had never worked out whether Vongella was genuinely sure of her position and merely irascible about it, or if she carried some deep-seated worry about being ousted by a rival and therefore overcompensated by reminding subordinates of her status whenever she could.

‘I was given the location by Ajril Borodina,’ Zidarov told her. ‘It’s already in the veil.’

‘I know.’

‘It’s a Vidora safe house. I’m not sure how long they’ve been there.’

She sat back in her chair, and blinked heavily. ‘Doing what they do. Quietly. If we kick it, we’ll have them wondering why.’

‘Because they’re cell-draining.’ Zidarov looked her in the eye when he said it.

‘Yes, I read your report. It’s a vile practice.’

‘You said it.’

‘They do lots of vile things, probator, and we can’t go after all of them.’

‘I’d like to clear it up, though,’ he said, firmly. ‘We’d got this off our territory, Castellan. You did it. That was something we could all be proud of.’

She sighed irritably, and reached for an ivory-inlaid cotin-injector. ‘You never eradicate anything, probator. You move it around. Don’t tell me you thought for a minute it was extinct in Urgeyena.’

‘No, really, I did, because it definitely was.’ He shook his head. ‘Listen, you stuck me on this thing with Udmil Terashova, something I can’t get out of, and Throne be praised it’s led to something actually worth our time. That’s a result.’

Vongella thought about that, as the pale smoke rose up from her parted lips. She thought about that long and hard. ‘Does Borodina know?’

‘She only gave me the loc-ref. I doubt it.’

‘You’ll have to speak to her.’

‘Yes, I will.’

‘Do it today.’