‘You do realize they’re the first and most obvious suspects, regardless?’

Corso nodded irritably. ‘Don’t forget how hard we’ve been pushing the Mjollnir. We don’t know what problems that might have caused. First that expedition to find the Mos Hadroch . . . then off again not much more than a week later. We’re making longer, more frequent jumps than any human-built ship has ever performed before. We’re having to carry out almost constant maintenance as it is.’

‘No,’ Martinez snapped. ‘This is deliberate sabotage.’

‘How can you be sure?’

‘For God’s sake, Lucas.’ The Commander nodded towards the overhead schematic. ‘Each and every subsystem has been targeted separately. Something like that takes conscious effort. Did you check the surveillance records yet?’

Corso opened his mouth and paused momentarily. ‘No, not yet.’

Martinez leaned over the console, and Corso watched as he pulled up screeds of data, muttering while he worked.

‘Take a look at this,’ he said, moving to one side. Corso glanced at the data and saw that it was a series of logs.

‘The past twelve hours of visual records,’ explained Martinez. ‘All of them wiped. You need high-level access to be able to pull off a trick like that – the kind of access only an interface chair gives you.’

Corso stared at the data. ‘Before you start pointing fingers at the team, remember our passenger in the hold. Besides, the Mos Hadroch might have triggered some glitches early on as well.’

Martinez frowned. ‘Trader’s stuck inside his own ship. He surely can’t pull off a trick like this from inside there, can he?’

‘I don’t know,’ Corso replied. ‘But then, I don’t know if Ted or Dakota could have pulled this off either.’

Just then, Lamoureaux came on to the bridge, looking distinctly out of breath. ‘I came straight back here as soon as I heard the alarm. What’s happened?’

Corso ignored the look on Martinez’s face as he turned to face the machine-head. ‘We don’t know yet,’ he told Lamoureaux. ‘I was hoping you might know something.’

Lamoureaux shook his head. ‘Most of the data-space is down. Dakota would tell you just the same.’

‘Where is she?’ asked Martinez.

‘She’s on her way here.’

‘Just to be clear about it, even with the ship’s networks down, you can still talk to each other?’

‘Sure.’ Lamoureaux nodded. ‘Machine-head hardware creates its own spontaneous networks, as long as you’re reasonably close to each other.’

‘Could you get in touch with any of the others by using your implants?’ asked Corso.

Lamoureaux thought for a moment. ‘Like use them to reroute some of the low-level comms? Yeah, maybe. The primary systems are down, but secondary and back-up seem to be rebooting spontaneously.’

‘Go to it,’ said Corso.

Lamoureaux headed back to the interface chair.