“It’s our own fault,” said Victor. “We went through the wormholes. We set them free.”

“You were the victims. It’s not your fault at all.”

“So that’s why you came,” Iona said to Alyssa. “You think it’s still here.”

“I’m convinced it is. You can’t kill them, we’ve tried. And if it was disguised as one of the crew it would’ve ended up in here with you.”

“Alyssa’s got a theory,” said Victor, “that one of the dead citizens might know who the Poramutantur is because if one of them found out, the Poramutantur would destroy it to cover up. So we reactivate the dead, enter the program that makes them come down here, talk to them, ask them how they died, see if there’s any clues there.”

“I suppose you haven’t found anything yet,” said Iona, “otherwise you’d—wait, you stole Weston’s body, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” said Victor sheepishly, “that was an experiment in sending a reprogrammed citizen to do the business. We usually do it covertly before the ceremony and replace the body with a dummy, but, er . . .” Victor gestured at a citizen whose body was singed and charred around the edges. “Our guy here didn’t get a chance to do that so he tried to carry out his instructions via other means. He just managed to get out of the furnace with the body.”

“It was a disaster,” muttered Alyssa.

“To be fair I only had a few days’ experience of fiddling with the programs.”

“I know, which is exactly why I shouldn’t have let you talk me into trying it.”

Iona considered this. “You wanted to talk to Weston because you thought I was the Portamen . . . Portomut—”

“Poramutantur,” corrected Alyssa.

“Thank you—you thought it was me, didn’t you? And you came to me for tuition because—”

“Because I wanted to see if you gave yourself away, yes—look, don’t be offended. I’m investigating all the human survivors of the crash. When I first met Victor I treated him as a suspect too.”

“Isn’t that a rather dangerous method of investigation though? If I was this creature—”

“You’d have tried to kill me. But I’d have used this.” Alyssa produced from her coat pocket a tube that was roughly the length and width of a wine bottle. Half the tube was filled with electronic components, the other with a sharp and chunky spike. It looked like the spike shot out of the tube when activated. “This is to trap it with when I find it. But I can’t use it until I’m sure because, well, it would kill an ordinary human.”

Iona felt tense as she looked at the spike and remembered how Alyssa had always had her hands in her pockets. “And you’re sure it’s not me now.”

“Oh yes,” said Alyssa cheerfully as she put the tube back in her pocket. “So anyway, Weston’s memories of his death were all corrupted so to help him along—”

“You brought him to the newspaper offices.”