Then he cut the link. He reviewed what he’d done, what he’d got, and reflected on how little it was. He thought of the bodies glimpsed through the doorway of the Vidora den, and couldn’t help wondering where they’d been taken to. The cells were efficient, to have moved them all so quickly. Despite everything Brecht had said, he felt sure he hadn’t been spotted. Usually you knew – you remembered a slip you’d made, a moment you’d pushed it too far. So they’d been warned. They must have been. That closed things off, at least for the time being, but once things cooled down that would have to be looked into.

No rain fell on the journey back, although the clouds continued to gather. The heat was moist now, like a headache behind the eyes, gathering and gathering until the inevitable break that everyone now wanted. The pressure was tangible, thicken­ing up, making it feel like you were walking through jeneza. Building, building.

As he took the elevated transitway east, he saw the contrail of a big cargo lifter coming down to the suborbital stations over to the north, its heavy belly filled with goods, its flanks steaming and spewing vapour. He thought of Borodina, and realised she hadn’t got back to him. That, too, would have to be chased down.

He reached his hab-unit and saw the light on at the window. The sky was black-purple and florid, ripe for a storm. When he got in and entered the refec-chamber, Milija was already there. She looked up at him as he entered.

‘Good day?’ she asked.

‘Long,’ he said, walking over to the storage unit and rooting around for something to eat. ‘Yours?’

‘Fine. But then, I got some sleep last night.’

Zidarov tensed, but kept rummaging.

‘So what time did you get in?’ Milija asked.

‘I don’t remember. I told you I’d be–’

‘–late, yes. Did you even come back?’

‘Of course I did. What are we eating?’

‘I’ve eaten.’ Milija got up, a glass in her hand, and gave him a hard look. ‘Naxi’s coming back. You remembered that? She’s got leave from the feeder academy, and she wants to talk about her placement.’

Shit. He’d forgotten. ‘I know.’

‘So clear your crap out of her room before she gets back. Then we need to talk. I don’t want her in the Guard. You know I don’t, and she has to listen to us now, or it’ll all be too late.’

Zidarov scoured the cupboard for something. He could do without this. ‘I’ll get on it. What’s happened to all the food?’

‘I work, you work, only you work twenty-six hours, so it seems, and can’t remember where you were when you were doing it, so I guess you’re flat out of luck.’

Zidarov slammed the door closed. ‘What’s that supposed–’