‘Oh, I’ve always had that,’ said Blegg. Thorn just appeared uncomfortable.

‘Attempts to open a communication channel have ceased,’ said Hubris. ‘Dragon accelerating.’

‘Pull away in close orbit. That should slow it,’ said Cormac.

‘Secure for impact. Secure for impact. All personnel to emergency modules.’

Cormac closed his eyes and began to breathe deeply and evenly, his brow beaded with sweat. The three of them could feel the vibration through Hubris as it accelerated away, and the slight pull to one side as the ship’s gravity did not quite compensate for the vector of its course.

‘Impact in three minutes twenty seconds. Mark . . . Impact in three minutes ten seconds. Mark.’

At that moment Mika entered Downlink Com. Cormac watched her frantically trying to read the situation, and lick her lips as she prepared herself for a question. He glanced past her to the door which had a flashing yellow-and-black-striped light above it.

‘I see you got through just before the main doors closed,’ he observed.

She nodded, staring at him.

‘We’d best get ready then,’ he said.

They locked down all the chairs in Com and any instruments that were loose. Then they went through to the emergency module; a circular room with twenty acceleration couches secured all round. This module, like many others scattered throughout the ship, contained its own separate life-support, and theoretically could withstand the break-up of the entire ship. The four of them lay down on couches and strapped themselves in.

‘Impact in one minute ten seconds. Mark . . . Impact in one minute. Mark.’

It was not particularly reassuring to see the piped-in image of Dragon’s all-too-rapid approach. It grew on the screen until they could see the pseudopods breaking from its surface.

‘Impact imminent! Impact imminent!’

It was not as bad as the first time. The ship boomed, but did not seem to be breaking. Cormac still wondered how many people he might have killed. As the shuddering stilled, he unstrapped himself and exited the emergency module.

‘Unauthorised information access at external port. I am isolating all systems . . . Shuttle-bay doors opening.’

‘It knows the ship better this time,’ said Mika.

Cormac glanced at her, then turned back to watch the pseudopods flooding into the shuttle bay, and squirming across the floor to the drop-shaft.

‘Intruder-defence systems online.’

‘Take them offline until my order,’ said Cormac.

‘Unauthorized access . . . all consoles and ports closed down in shuttle-bay area. Stress readings at drop-shaft doors.’

They watched, as for the second time, the safety doors buckled and crashed into the drop-shaft, and the pseudopods flooded down it.

‘Vocal communication from Dragon.’

‘No reply, but let’s hear it,’ said Cormac.

‘Cormac! Cormac!’ screamed the speaker. Only then did Cormac see the pterosaur head amongst the pseudopods. It rose out of them and came up against the camera.

‘Cormac!’ it screamed again, spraying the lens with milky saliva.

‘Sounds pissed off,’ said Thorn.

‘Yes, and scared,’ said Cormac.