‘Someone – something – has been exerting control over me against my will, and the only reason for doing so is because they want the artefact. But what you must understand . . .’ Whitecloud paused to clear his throat, clearly at his wits’ end ‘. . . what you must understand is that whether the artefact fulfils its purpose or not will depend on the artefact’s own judgement of anyone who tries to activate it.’

Whitecloud slumped at the console and brushed one shaking hand through his unkempt hair. ‘You must understand that it will destroy us, if it finds sufficient reason.’

For a moment he looked like he was thinking of adding something, but then appeared to change his mind, stepping back from the console.

‘He’s crazy,’ said Perez.

‘I agree,’ said Martinez. ‘He’s clearly lost his mind.’

‘I’m not so sure,’ said Dakota.

Lamoureaux pointed upwards. ‘There’s more.’

Dakota looked back to see that Whitecloud had splayed one of his hands across the surface of the console, while the other gripped a knife with its blade aimed at one of his fingers.

Jesus and Buddha, she thought, horrified but unable to look away. Whitecloud kept shaking badly, muttering under his breath and clearly in great distress.

He stood like that for several seconds, then his behaviour changed abruptly. His face grew expressionless, in a way that sent cold prickles of horror up Dakota’s spine. He stared towards the lab entrance, which was out of sight of the console’s recording lens, then himself stepped out of view, the knife still clutched in one hand.

‘Talk about timing,’ Perez muttered. ‘This must be when Ray turned up.’

‘Yeah, I think you’re right,’ agreed Corso. ‘Whitecloud killed him before he could see what was happening to the artefact.’

‘No, Trader killed him,’ said Dakota, turning to eye him pointedly. ‘The fact that it was Whitecloud’s hands actually holding the knife doesn’t mean anything. You saw the way he was struggling with himself

‘I’ll move it forward by a few minutes,’ said Lamoureaux, and Whitecloud reappeared overhead once again. He was now covered in blood that was not his own, and he was panting hard, his chest rising and falling. Ray Willis would not have been an easy man to kill, even if caught by surprise.

Dakota watched Whitecloud pull the Mos Hadroch out of its cradle and stuff it into a bag. There was something monstrous about his eyes, as if they had been drained of any humanity.

‘Does this mean he had the command structure for the Mos Hadroch the whole time?’ asked Perez, in a subdued tone.

‘There’s a bit earlier on where he describes finding it hidden deep inside the stacks. How it got there, he doesn’t know.’

Something clicked into place inside Dakota’s head. ‘I know,’ she said, thinking furiously.

Corso stared at her. ‘How do you know?’