The hold was a disc cut right through the sphere, its walls the insulated skin of the ship itself. Circular lighting panels were set in, evenly, all around. To one side there were bundles and packages. In the centre of the hold, cylindrical cryopods were secured in an open framework. This framework ran from ceiling to floor and took up most of the space. From each of these pods skeins of optic cable and ribbed tubes ran to junction plugs in the floor. Two separate pods were bolted to the floor at the end of the framework. They too were linked into the ship’s systems. On every pod was stencilled the words ‘Oceana Foods Stock Item’, and a number.

Stanton ignored Pelter’s intake of breath and chose not to look at him.

‘Fucking animals,’ Pelter hissed.

Stanton did not want to correct him. It would perhaps be best if he did not know that this cargo mainly consisted of edible molluscs in cryostasis.

‘They’ll work for us. They’ve been adapted,’ was all he said.

As soon as they were well into the hold, the ramp retracted behind them. Pelter turned to watch it, but Stanton kept his eye on Crane, who was just returning, having completed a circuit of the cargo framework. When Crane stopped and abruptly squatted down, he turned and watched the door iris shut on the dawn light. As the final dot was extinguished, an intercom crackled.

‘You’ve got sleeping bags, food, water and a toilet,’ a woman’s voice told them. ‘You can’t see the toilet—I’ve linked it into the plumbing on the other side from you. The two cryopods, I suggest you use at the earliest opportunity, as supplies are limited. Now, the matter of payment.’

Pelter gestured to the briefcase Crane was holding. ‘I have it here, Jarvellis. Just let me through and we’ll complete the transaction,’ he said.

‘Arian Pelter, if you think I am going to open the bulkhead door with that thing on board, then you are more stupid than I gave you credit for,’ said Jarvellis. ‘There is, just for this kind of eventuality, a hatch in the bulkhead door, to your left.’

Stanton saw frustrated anger twist Pelter’s face, then get quickly suppressed. The Separatist looked to Mr. Crane, and the android stood up. Just at that moment there was a lurch and Stanton felt his stomach twist. They were up and moving. They’d made it. Crane walked over, his head tilting as if he had an inner-ear problem. He handed the case to Pelter.

‘Not yet, Pelter,’ said Jarvellis.

‘Why not? Don’t you want your money?’

There was a surge of acceleration, inadequately compensated for in the hold. Ionic boosters.