Stanton surveyed the hold. Of course, there were no portals, so he could not prove, disprove, or appreciate that statement. He glanced at Pelter’s coffin, then across at Mr. Crane. He shivered, maybe in response to the cold.

‘What about Arian?’

‘I set your coffin to open first, John,’ said Jarvellis. ‘Perhaps we can—’

Stanton interrupted. ‘Best you get Arian’s coffin open now. I don’t want any misunderstandings with Mr. Crane here, and Arian has that command link with him fed in through his optic nerve. I’d rather Arian was awake and controlling him.’

Pelter reassumed control and turned Mr. Crane’s head. Stanton was now standing beside his cold coffin, trying to shake frozen stiffness from his shirt. He was also looking at Mr. Crane. Yes, thought Pelter, that’s the way it is. He returned Mr. Crane’s attention to his toys and cut the link.

There was a sound, a deep crack, and a line of brilliance cut to the left of him. His whole body suddenly had severe pins and needles as the nerve-blocker detached and feeling returned. This feeling slowly ebbed, only to be replaced with a sensation as of his entire skin having been burnt—and he knew how that felt. Suddenly he gasped, and fluid bubbled in his lungs. Until then, he realized he had not been breathing.

‘Best to get moving,’ said John Stanton, looking down at him.

Pelter sat up and looked at himself. His body, like Stanton’s, was covered with pinheads of dried blood. He lifted his legs from the coffin and tried to stand. His legs started to give way and Stanton caught hold of his arm.

‘Takes a moment for the blood sugars to kick in. Your blood is full of food, but the cells of the rest of your body are starving. You’ll know when it happens,’ he said.

Pelter tried standing again and this time got control of his legs. The burning sensation began to retreat like the frost on the walls. The feeling that replaced it was an endorphin rush. For a brief minute he got the buzz that turned people into heroin addicts. He hated it. He shook off Stanton’s supporting arm and carefully stooped down to take up his frigid clothing. The intercom crackled its phoney crackle.

‘We’re into atmosphere now and will be landing in about an hour. As part of the service, you’ll find a wallet of Carth shillings in the black holdall. It’s your entry fee. They’re desperate for Polity currencies. Customs here are pretty relaxed, but it’s best to lubricate the wheels of their bureaucracy,’ Jarvellis told them.

Pelter looked at Stanton. ‘Customs?’

‘Yeah, we’re not in the Polity now. You’ll find that if you want anything done here, you’ll have to do a fair bit of lubricating,’ Stanton told him.