‘And Whitecloud was implicated?’

‘He was,’ said Lamoureaux, cutting in, ‘but he was a minor figure in the research project, not at all involved in the actual implementation. It’s important to make that distinction.’

‘That doesn’t make him any less respon—’ Corso snapped his fingers. ‘I remember now. Whitecloud escaped from custody, years ago. And now you know where he is?’

Lamoureaux nodded. ‘Legislate agents tracked him down in Ascension a couple of weeks back and he’s being held in a barracks prison there. Turns out he’d been hiding under an assumed identity for years. It’s possible we could spring him, but we’d have to move fast.’

Corso regarded him with a pained expression. ‘Ted . . . if it came out that we were employing war criminals, we’d be kissing any chance of concord with the Legislate goodbye for ever.’

‘Well, that gives us a serious problem, Senator,’ Lamoureaux replied, ‘because if Dakota’s on to something, we’re going to need Whitecloud very, very badly.’

Corso glanced at the door and fantasized for a moment about just walking out of there and having nothing to do with what Lamoureaux was suggesting. And yet, at the same time, he sensed – not for the first time – the inevitability of having to compromise what he had once considered the immutable beliefs and values he had long held dear. After the last couple of years, he was almost getting used to it.

He sighed and sat back down. ‘You’re a machine-head yourself, Ted. How can you even contemplate this?’

‘Because sometimes you just have to live with the cards life deals you, Senator. I have good friends who would never talk to me again if they had any idea what I’m suggesting here. If there was another way, believe me, I’d take it. But Whitecloud was far from the worst of them.’

‘And that’s in your best professional judgement?’

‘It is, but we need to move fast on this. Most of the Emissary forces are still kiloparsecs away, but advance scouts have been observed engaging with Shoal fleets a lot closer to home. I’d like to go to Ascension and take charge of this myself, with your permission.’

‘Alright, fine, if that’s what it takes,’ Corso replied, a void seeming to form deep inside his chest. ‘Tell Willis he’s to rendezvous with you there as well. Olivarri can take care of things at Ocean’s Deep for now. You understand,’ he added, ‘that if any word of this gets out . . .’

‘It won’t.’

Lamoureaux left a few moments later, and Corso noticed the fusion globes outside were beginning to dim in preparation for evening, the ghostly band of the Milky Way gradually becoming visible.