He watched two of his officers moving onto the veranda. From the back of the house came the sound of breaking glass. There was a flash that momentarily blacked the binoculars’ lenses. When the blackness faded, the officers were gone from view, but he could still hear them.

‘Alan Tenel, get up and move away from the bed. Hands out in front of you.’

‘What? . . . Who the hell do you think you are?’

‘I won’t ask a second time.’

‘This is private property. How dare you!’

‘Tenel, you’re a Separatist shit and you’re under arrest. You can walk out of here fully dressed or I can drag you out by your ankles and focus the lights on you. Plenty of blade beetles waiting out there . . . That’s better.’

‘Excellent reading of his rights, Pearson. I must remember that approach line next time I’m lecturing new recruits,’ said Abram.

Nothing more than sounds of movement came over the radio for a moment.

‘Sorry, sir, but he seemed a bit reluctant to co-operate.’

Abram emerged from the orchard as his constables hauled Tenel out of his house. Pearson, who, like a lot of the older recruits, was a heavy-G adaptation, had one hand clamped on Tenel’s upper arm. Abram studied carefully this man they had arrested.

Tenel was small and old, and didn’t look as if he could offer any trouble. Pearson and Alex were capable of tearing the man in half between them, and Jack and Solen, walking behind, both towered a head and a half above him. Abram momentarily wondered if the information given them had been mistaken, then dismissed the thought. ECS did not make that kind of error. As Tenel drew closer, Abram began to note a certain weasely confidence.

‘You do know why you’ve been arrested, I take it?’ he asked.

‘You’ve made a mistake, First Constable—one for which you’ll pay dearly,’ said Tenel.

Abram wondered what that meant: was it the usual bluster of men with a bit more in their bank accounts than the general population, or something more sinister?

‘I never pay dearly for my mistakes,’ said Abram. ‘I’m a policeman.’

‘You won’t be laughing when they . . .’

Tenel stared beyond Abram and over to the right. Suddenly his eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open. He pulled against the grip the two constables held on him—then he pulled harder.

‘You have to get me out of here,’ he said quickly.

Abram stared at him.

‘You have to get me out of here!’

As Tenel struggled harder, there was spittle on his chin. Abram glanced round and saw, standing at the edge of the orchard, a very tall and odd-looking man.

‘Ground him,’ Abram ordered. ‘Pearson, Jack, with me.’