The day was clear and warm, the sun’s ferocity dampened by the craft’s force field. It also shielded us from the more voracious insects, and by the God-Emperor there were enough of those. Each exploded into a miniscule pyre moments before it reached the vessel, the incessant flickers like tiny fireworks. I wondered what would happen if one of the larger banner-bugs attacked the yacht, before deciding it was better not to speculate.

We were not alone on those waters. Smaller vessels, crafted from wood and bound by stretched vines, were dotted amongst the foliage, their crews hacking at the gnarl-vines, seeking the sweet vine-fruits nestled amidst the barbed stems. Whatever they collected was deposited in the boat’s midsection and covered by a tarpaulin. The crews themselves had no such protection; they wore short robes similar to Stylee’s, but these provided only partial defence against the swarms of stinging insects.

I glanced to Dolos, but she paid the workers no heed. She had been quiet for most of the journey, her entourage filling the silence with idle chit-chat. When not feasting on those purple berries she so enjoyed, she spoke only to request more refreshments, or to instruct the helmsman to make minor course corrections. But her manner was pleasant enough, at least for a noble of her stature.

I found my gaze shifting to Gradeolous, but the man had barely moved since our departure, hands still clasped to the small of his back. He did periodically glance to the sky, as though keeping watch, or waiting for something.

We reached an intersection, a junction cut across the rows of gnarl-vines, and turned left, cruising past the seemingly endless vineyard. I caught glimpses of the agri-workers, their hooked sickles prising at the plants, which seemed to flare their barbs in response. Ahead, I saw one man impaled in the shoulder by a foot-long thorn. Blood spurted from the wound and he fell, but before he could strike the water we had sped past, almost ramming a vessel emerging from one of the gullies. It veered aside just in time, spilling a score of the vine-fruit into the waters. It was overburdened, and I worried the wave brought by our passage would capsize it, but I lost sight of the vessel as we sped on.

‘I’m worried for you, Simlex.’

I turned. Dolos was addressing me, though her gaze was fixed ahead.

‘Governor?’

‘You seem ill at ease,’ she continued. ‘Something troubles you. And, if I may be blunt, you were lax in responding to my solicitations.’

‘My apologies, Governor Dolos,’ I replied, bowing my head. ‘I have been preoccupied with my work. When undertaking a pict of this significance I become inward-focused and forget the outside world. Please forgive my rudeness. I meant no offence.’