Something roared and the shuttle vibrated. It dipped down towards the shuttleport on the outskirts of the installation. Here was a webwork of glowing lines, almost like some huge circuit diagram, which painted the artificially levelled rock. The shuttle decelerated on retros and clawing AG fields. It tilted and sank down towards a boxed area beside a cluster of towers like perspex cigars. As it descended, Cormac caught a glimpse of the walkway snaking out across the rock.

‘You are not ordered to disconnect. We do not order people to desist from actions that are killing them, just so long as they know it, and harm no one else,’ Blegg replied.

‘The link is killing me?’

‘I did not say that. It would kill you if you were to continue in your present line of work. You have to decide if you want to continue.’

Cormac got the picture. He grimaced as he listened to the shuttle’s skids extend and crunch on stone. While passengers were unclipping their belts and grabbing up for their hand luggage in a manner unchanged in centuries, he considered his options. He had been gridlinked for thirty years. He had been with ECS for ten years longer than that. Perhaps it was time for a change. He thought about the things he had seen and the things he had done. Many of the latter were not admirable, but they had been necessary. Perhaps it was time for him to retire, buy a nice little residence beside a sea on some nice peaceful planet? He unclipped his belt and stood. Time for a change? Like hell it was.

Runcible AI.

<Yes, Ian Cormac.>

I wish you to disconnect and completely shut down my gridlink.

<You wish me to do this now?>

Yes.

<Goodbye to you, Ian Cormac.>

Cormac lurched where he stood, felt a hand seemingly made of iron grip his arm and steady him. He felt a hundred connections shutting down one by one. Huge frames of reference dragged themselves from his skull down to infinitesimal dots and just blinked out. A deep ache dug its claws into the base of his skull and suddenly, all around his head, there was only empty air.

‘You do not delay once you have made a decision,’ said Blegg. ‘It is why we are glad to have you working for us, Agent Cormac.’

A voice, just a spoken voice: soundwaves vibrating hair-cells in his auditory canal. How the hell could he manage with such an inefficient system? As he disembarked and walked into the connecting tunnel, Blegg silent at his side, Cormac had never felt so empty.

* * *