Stanton looked at her for a long moment. It frightened him just how much he wanted to trust her. He released her wrist and slid his weight off her. He did not move too far back, and every muscle of his body was taut as a guitar string. Trust; it was hard for him. With care she slid her hand out from under the pillow. She held out to him a long and flat box made of rosewood.

‘I got you a present,’ she said.

Stanton took the box and let out a long slow breath. Engraved on the lid was the letter T.

‘Open it, then,’ she said, sitting up.

Even now he found it difficult. Some kind of trap inside? Trust. He pressed the catch on the side and the lid slowly lifted.

‘My God,’ he said.

Inside the box, cushioned in black velvet, were a dagger, its sheath, and a gold ring. The weapon was one casting of yellow chainglass. Inside the handle was a frame of silver wires and inside that a complexity of small cubes in which dim lights flickered. The sheath was plain black metal with two skin-stick pads.

‘It’s an early one. Twenty-third century. Its provenance is recorded in its micromind. Tenkian made it on Jocasta. It’s one of the first he made with a micromind. Limited AG,’ Jarvellis informed him.

Stanton took the weapon from the box. The grip appeared smooth, but was firm and positive. He felt a faint tingling sensation in the palm of his hand. Jarvellis went on.

‘Now it has impressed on you. Anyone else tries to handle it now, without reprogramming it, will get a brief nerve shock; enough to make them drop it.’

‘What does it do?’

‘Not much, really. You see the ring?’

Stanton took the ring from the box and inspected it. It was plain gold with a circle of green gold set concentric in its outer surface. The outer ring was octagonal, as if made to take a spanner.

‘Put it on your right index finger,’ she told him as she sat upright.

He slid the ring into place. As soon as it was there it seemed to tighten.

‘Now,’ Jarvellis continued. ‘Put the dagger back in its sheath.’

When he had done this, Jarvellis carefully took it from him, being careful only to touch the sheath. She tossed it down to the foot of the bed.

‘What now?’ he asked.

She replied, ‘The green ring turns in the gold one. Just give it a flick with your thumb.’

Stanton did as instructed. There was a sound as of a wasp shooting past. Stanton saw a flash of yellow and, before he could react, the handle of the dagger slapped into the palm of his hand. He held it there and turned to Jarvellis, a grin on his face.

‘I like it,’ he said.