‘Look, just stay another day,’ the man suggested. ‘You never did finish telling me about - what was it, Bhughredi?’

‘Yes, Bhughredi.’ The old drone chuckled.

‘Exactly. Bhughredi; the sea nukes and the interference effect thing or whatever it was.’

‘Damnedest way to launch a ship,’ the old drone agreed, and made a sighing noise.

‘So what did happen?’

‘Like I said, it’s a long story.’

‘So stay tomorrow; tell me it. You’re a drone for goodness’ sake; you can float back by yourself . . .’

‘But I said I’d visit them when the airship got here, Tish. Anyway; my AG units are due a service; they’d probably fail and I’d end up at the bottom of the sea having to be rescued; very embarrassing.’

‘Take a flyer back!’ the man said, watching the island’s shore slide underneath. People gathered round fires on the beach waved up at the craft. He could hear music drifting on the warm breeze.

‘Oh, I don’t know . . . They’d probably be upset.’

Tishlin drank from his glass and frowned down at the waves breaking on the beach which led towards the lights of the town. A particularly large and vivid firework detonated in the air directly above the bright docking tower. Oos and Aahs duly sounded round the crowded balcony.

The man snapped his fingers. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘Send a mind-state abstract.’

The big drone hesitated, then said, ‘Oh, one of those. Hmm. Well; still not really the same thing, I think. Anyway, I’ve never done one. Not sure I really approve. I mean, it’s you but it’s not you, you know?’

Tishlin nodded. ‘Certainly do know. Can’t say I think they’re as, you know, benign as they’re cracked up to be either; I mean, it’s supposed to act sentient without being sentient, so isn’t it actually sentient? What happens to it when it’s just turned off? I’m not convinced there isn’t some sort of iffy morality here, either. But I’ve done it myself. Talked into it. Reservations, like you say, but . . .’ He looked round, then leant closer to the machine’s dull brown casing. ‘Bit of a Contact thing, actually.’

‘Really?’ the old machine said, tipping its whole body away from him for a moment, then tipping it back so that it leant towards him. It extended a field round the two of them; the exterior sounds faded. When it spoke again, it was with a slight echo that indicated the field was keeping whatever they said between the two of them. ‘What was that . . . Well, wait a moment, if you aren’t supposed to tell anybody . . .’

Tishlin weaved his hand. ‘Well, not officially,’ he said, brushing white hair over one ear, ‘but you’re a Contact veteran, and you know how SC always dramatises things.’