‘Of course it was me,’ said Blegg. ‘Did it sound like the usual silicon moron? Now think about what I just told you.’

Cormac immediately accessed a runcible tech site and began downloading figures. Something black encroached at the edges of his vision, and everything he had been pulling in was corrupted. He saw files just fading out and draining away. Then something thumped inside his head, and the connection was gone. He experienced an hallucination, part visual and part tactile. A twisted illusion. He was groping about inside his own head, lost and panicking. A hand slapped on his shoulder and pulled him back.

‘I said,’ said Blegg, ‘think about what I just told you. Think.’

Cormac stared again into those eyes. He felt the tug of power there and he made an effort of will.

<Stupid to panic. Use your mind.>

He did as Blegg suggested, and applied the simple mental calculating techniques he’d been taught longer ago than he cared to remember. Figures started to come up and, after rechecking, he started to put together a nightmare scenario. And somehow, because he had worked this out for himself, it all seemed more real.

‘Anyone coming through would have done so at near light speed,’ he said, and in his mind’s eye—that facet he normally used for downloaded images—he saw what must have happened.

<It is called imagination, Ian Cormac.>

Cormac looked at Blegg, but Blegg had turned away from him, watching as one of the other passengers walked by. As he began his reply, he slowly swung his gaze back to Cormac.

‘Before it was destroyed, the Samarkand runcible AI managed to transmit for point three seconds. Major structural breakdown, not detected in time to prevent reception. A runcible technician by the name of Freeman came through. He most certainly would have known nothing about it. Thirty megatons, conservative.’

‘Sabotage?’ said Cormac, as those nailhead eyes locked on him.

‘It seems likely. You’re aware of runcible safety parameters?’

Cormac nodded, then asked, ‘Are we talking mega-death here?’

‘No, the Samarkand runcible was upside and located on a cold world.’

‘What sort of figures?’

‘There were ten thousand nine hundred and five people on Samarkand, including AIs. The few Golem androids there would have been close to the explosion, and would almost certainly have been destroyed along with the runcible AI. As for the rest . . . the world was being terraformed by bleed-off from the runcible buffers. It will almost have returned to its original state by the time you get there.’

Cormac nodded and absorbed that information. There might be survivors. There might. ‘Did Samarkand serve a colonized world?’

‘Not really. The nearest colonized world is the planet Minostra: twelve light-years away, with its own planet-based runcible. Samarkand is a way-station world for the influx to the centre of the Polity. We were lucky in that, if in little else.’

‘My mission?’