Actually, I thought, yes, she probably could.

‘Whilst Aurora is otherwise engaged,’ said Hooke, who looked as though he had been through this many, many times, ‘I assume all her duties, and the position of Head of Security. So how can I help you?’

Toccata pointed at me.

‘I want to know why Aurora took over responsibility for a marooned Deputy Consul, and having done so, left them to almost sleep themselves out over the past four weeks.’

Mr Hooke looked at me, then back at Toccata.

‘I have no idea,’ he said, staring at her without expression.

‘Make a guess.’

He shrugged.

‘I don’t make guesses.’

‘Give it a whirl. For me. Just this once.’

‘Perhaps,’ began Hooke, ‘she felt she was in some way to blame for Worthing’s marooning. Perhaps she was just caring for someone looking lost in the Winter. Perhaps she was just being kind.’

‘Aurora has no understanding of the word. She’s motivated only by what HiberTech ask of her.’

‘We could argue over this all day, ma’am,’ said Hooke, sounding like they probably did, quite a lot, ‘but it seems to me a simple mistake. Deputy Worthing overslept. It happens. Why don’t you just take it up with Aurora?’

‘I try, but she’s always avoiding me.’

‘She says the same about you. Now, is there anything else I can help you with?’

‘Pantry,’ she said. ‘You’ve got shitloads of it and I want some to feed to the sleep-shy.’

‘If it were up to me, I’d drown them all and then compost their remains and use it to nourish the Winter beet,’ said Hooke, ‘but we live, apparently, in more enlightened times. Why don’t you come into the office?’

He gestured us to a side office which I noted had Aurora’s name painted on the door. He invited Toccata inside, but pointed at a seat outside the office for me.

I sat down, then heard Toccata’s voice rise in volume as she started to question why HiberTech couldn’t spare any food for the rest of the Sector, and Agent Hooke’s voice coldly explaining that it wasn’t up to private companies to deal with the shortcomings of government.

‘Does this happen a lot?’ I asked a youngish-looking worker sitting quite near me. He looked up abruptly, as though he had hoped I wasn’t going to say anything.

‘All the time. It’s like a recurring gag in a sitcom, only it’s not funny.’

‘Sitcom,’ I said, ‘yes. Are there any toilets close by? I’ve been on the coffee since I woke up.’