‘That’ll probably turn out to be something to do with inviting some other Mind onto the group.’ The drone was silent for a moment. ‘Though of course it could be some pre-agreed form of words, a secret signal amongst the group.’

Seich stared at the drone. ‘A secret signal?’ she said. ‘In an M32-level transmission?’

‘It’s possible; no more.’

Seich continued to stare at the machine for a moment. ‘You’re saying that these Minds are discussing something . . . agreeing to something that’s so sensitive, so secret they won’t even talk about it in Special Circumstances’ top-end code, the fucking holy of holies, the unbreakable, inviolable, totally secure M32?’

‘No I’m not. I’m just saying it’s . . . semi-possible.’ The drone’s aura field flickered grey with frustration. ‘In that event, though, I don’t think it would be breakability they’d be worried about.’

‘What then?’ Seich’s eyes narrowed. ‘Deniability?’

‘If we’re thinking in such paranoid terms in the first place, yes, that’d be my guess,’ the drone said, dipping its front once in a nod and making a noise like a sigh.

‘So they’re up to something.’

‘Well, they’re up to a lot, by the sound of it. But it’s just possible that some part of what they’re up to might be, well, risky.’

Ulver Seich sat back, staring at the empty square of the projected screen, hanging in the air in front of her and the drone Churt Lyne like a pane of slightly opaque smoked glass. ‘Risky,’ she said. She shook her head and felt a strange urge to shiver, which she suppressed. ‘Shit, don’t you hate it when the Gods come out to play?’

‘In a word,’ said the drone, ‘yes.’

‘So what am I supposed to do? And why?’

‘You’re supposed to look like this woman,’ the drone said, as a bright, still picture flashed on to the smoky screen in front of her.

Ulver studied the face, chin in her hand again. ‘Hmm,’ she said. ‘She’s older than me.’

‘True.’

‘And not as pretty.’

‘Fair enough.’

‘Why do I have to look like her?’

‘To draw the attention of a certain man.’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘Wait a minute; I’m not expected to fuck this guy, am I?’

‘Oh good grief, no,’ the drone said, its aura field briefly grey again. ‘All you have to do is look like an old flame of his.’

She laughed. ‘I bet I am expected to fuck him!’ She rocked back in the little metal seat. ‘How quaint! Is this really what SC gets up to?’

‘No you’re not,’ hissed the drone, aura fields going deep grey. ‘You just have to be there.’

‘I’ll bet,’ she guffawed, and sat back, crossing her arms. ‘So who is he, anyway?’

‘Him,’ the drone said. Another still face appeared on the screen.