Two minutes later, Rozalia dumped a plate of eggs in front of me. I was impressed. She’d managed to both undercook and burn them.

‘You know,’ I said, choosing my words as carefully as possible, ‘I remember exactly what it’s like to go through something like this. I mean, lose someone.’

Rozalia nodded. ‘Your wife, Alice. I know what you’re trying to do, Jerry. Don’t. That’s not why I’m here.’

‘I know words don’t help much, but—’

‘I do not want your fucking sympathy!’ she yelled.

I put both hands up in surrender.

The wild look faded from her eyes and she shovelled the remaining half-crisped, half-liquid eggs onto a second plate and sat down across from me, scooping the gooey mess into her mouth. I tried eating mine and quickly came to the conclusion I’d be better off sticking with the coffee. At least it was helping to burn away a little of the previous night’s excess.

She finished her eggs, then pushed away the plate, and stared over at me. ‘I don’t think what happened last night was an accident.’

I tried to process the words, unsure if I’d heard her correctly. ‘I got the impression there was some kind of equipment failure. Maybe—’

Her knuckles whitened where she gripped the edge of the counter top. I could see how hard she was fighting to hold herself together. ‘No,’ she said tightly. ‘There are things you don’t know, Jerry. Things no one else knows.’

‘Maybe you didn’t hear about it, but Oskar told me a few things about myself you’d all been keeping from me. If that’s what you’re—’

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘Not that. Nadia had . . . suspicions.’

‘About what?’

Her shoulders rose and fell and her eyes met mine for the first time. ‘About some of the circumstances around your predecessor’s death.’

I put down my mug. ‘You’re talking about the other Jerry, right?’ I realized my hands were trembling slightly, and not just because of the hangover. ‘The one who was here before me.’

‘It’s important that everything I say stays between us.’

‘Go on.’

She leaned forward, her expression intent. ‘I want you to swear, Jerry. On your life.’

‘Fine. I swear. Nothing goes beyond this kitchen.’

She nodded, apparently satisfied. ‘That other you had been looking into something, just before he died. It’s true that there have been accidents, equipment failures and software problems of all kinds, since before they brought you here. A few of them were nearly as bad as what happened to you last night, but rarely fatal.’

‘What exactly do you mean, “looking into something”?’

‘He had an idea that maybe some of those accidents weren’t really accidents.’

I fought for understanding through the haze of hangover pain. ‘Go on.’

‘He had reasons,’ she said carefully, ‘to believe certain missions may have been deliberately sabotaged.’