‘I understand that Desire was a sacrifice to public opinion, but I must remind you that you were the one who gave Desire his orders, as he gave me mine. I could easily have implicated you.’ Not to mention dozens of key members of the Hegemony’s highest ruling councils.

The Commander’s manipulators rippled in grudging agreement. ‘Yes, yes, Trader. I know this. And I’m grateful that you didn’t. But concerning these terms of yours . . . the Mos Hadroch is an old fish’s tale, a daydream, nothing more.’

‘It was enough to bring the Magi across the void to our galaxy. I headed an expedition to the Maker swarm which found evidence to suggest it was much more than a story.’

Commander-of-Shoals’s steel-tipped manipulators clicked as their razor edges clashed with each other. ‘An expedition, I recall, that ended in ignominy and failure. There’s a limit to how much you can demand of me in return for your silence, Trader. I came here only because your record of past service earns you a final audience. The Emissaries are making tremendous gains, while we are pushed back and back. But if all you have for me are pipe dreams of yore, then I suggest you leave now in peace for ever and make yourself a new life somewhere very, very far away.’

‘This may interest you, then,’ Trader replied, making a gesture.

A tiny sparkling glyph representing a data package appeared, hovering in the water between them. Commander-of-Shoals regarded it warily, then accepted the package with visible ill grace.

Trader waited while his superior scanned the package’s contents. ‘This is the first I’ve heard of this!’ Commander-of-Shoals exclaimed after some moments. ‘There was a second expedition?’

‘One I myself led a few centuries after my encounter with the Maker. Except this time I travelled to the Greater Magellanic Cloud itself

‘Why was I never made aware of this?’

Trader twisted his manipulators in the Shoal equivalent of a laugh. ‘With all respect, Commander, you are a soldier, good for taking and giving orders. There was no need for you to know. We spent the better part of fourteen centuries roaming what had once been the most densely populated regions of the Cloud.’

‘Do not keep me waiting, Trader. What did you find?’

‘I found the proof that the Mos Hadroch exists, or did once exist, but found no trace or clue to its whereabouts – that is, until recently. The Maker is still searching for it.’

He declined to mention that this new knowledge originated in intercepted transmissions originating from Ocean’s Deep.

‘Then it is in our galaxy? And it’s real?’ Commander-of-Shoals swam closer. ‘What exactly can it do?’

‘You will find the details in the data package I just gave you.’