‘Sorry.’ He removed the packet and offered it. Mika and Chaline refused, not offensively—there was no social ostracism of those indulging in this now harmless habit—but with surprise. Obviously they had never been to Earth. Cormac accepted both a cigarette and Gant’s lighter to light it. It was only another method of communicating.

‘Thank you.’ He lit the cigarette and drew on it, then in a tight voice went on with, ‘You know, out here these things are not often seen?’ He held up the cigarette. Gant shrugged and leant back, after retrieving his lighter. The comment did not seem to bother him.

‘I take it you come direct from Earth?’ said Cormac.

Gant nodded. ‘Yeah, Ukraine—fifteen hundred kilometres from the original Samarkand.’

‘Fifteen hundred,’ Cormac repeated.

‘Yeah,’ said Gant, studying the tip of his cigarette. ‘You know it was established by Uzbeks and was a major stopping point on the Great Silk Road. That’s why this place was named after it: it was also a stopping place, a way station. I always wanted to see what it was like.’

Cormac was not sure if he was talking about the ancient city or the planet. He also wondered what was buried underneath that rambling. He left it.

‘Your friend?’ Cormac looked across at Thorn, who was gazing out a window, his expression pensive.

‘English.’

‘A long way to come.’

Cormac drew on his cigarette and stifled a cough. A very long way to come. There was something more to these soldiers, if Central was prepared to send them all this way. He entertained a suspicion.

‘You’re Sparkind.’

Gant grinned at him, and Cormac repressed the urge to swear. Blegg had made this as difficult for him as he could without compromising the mission. It seemed that everything he needed to know he would have to learn. He suspected this might be Blegg’s idea of a recovery programme from Cormac’s gridlinking.

‘What are Sparkind?’ asked Chaline.

Gant’s face fell.

Cormac explained, ‘Kind of soldier. They have a certain reputation.’

Mika said, ‘They dealt with the situation on Darnis; twelve of them against a unit of cyborgs and a small army. The name is the same as that of an ancient race of fighters.’ Her expression was blank.

Gant’s smile returned. ‘No, they were called Spartans—and we don’t live like them,’ he said.

Mika frowned. She obviously did not like to be found wrong.

‘How many of you are there on the Hubris?’ asked Cormac.

‘Just one group,’ replied Gant.

Four of them. Not inconsiderable. What was Blegg expecting?

Gant continued. ‘The other two are Golem Thirties.’ He was still smiling.

Cormac tried not to let his annoyance show. This was information he should have received long ago. Had he been gridlinked, of course, he would have already known. He also reckoned he would have directed things with all the sensitivity he had shown on Cheyne III. Damn Blegg.

* * *