‘Well, they refuse to fly slower, believe me,’ she replied, slipping behind a folding screen upon which was depicted the God-Emperor’s victory over the Arch-Serpent, portrayed as a reptile writhing beneath his golden boot, its single eye bared banefully. A trio of servants followed her, brandishing bodice and lace.

‘I need to be up there with them,’ I said, keeping my gaze fixed upon the recaff.

‘Can you fly?’

‘No.’

‘Well, even if you could, I doubt they would permit a civilian operating in their airspace. They even try and limit my excursions. Can you imagine that?’

I could, though I did not say so.

‘Why not request they take you up with them?’ she continued.

‘I do not know how I would even approach something like that.’

‘Speak to Wing Commander Prospherous,’ she replied from behind the screen. ‘It’s his job to assist you after all.’

‘I suspect he would not see it in those terms.’

‘Immaterial. This is not his planet, it is mine, and I deem your work the priority. Frankly, the commander and those like him have been abusing my hospitality for far too long. I half suspect they are dragging out this war so they can take advantage of my wine cellars. It’s time they provided a favour in return.’

She emerged clad in her finery, her billowing robes supported by her aides. Her new mask and headdress were fashioned to resembled storm clouds, the lightning framing her cheeks.

‘We shall speak to Prospherous and inform him of your needs.’

‘Are you sure he will see us?’

‘He will see us when I tell him to,’ she replied sternly. ‘Now, get dressed. It is time to remind the wing commander who is truly in charge.’

Wing Commander Prospherous glared at me from across his desk.

It was not a pleasant experience. I would have described his gaze as predatory, except that would convey a sense of hunger or yearning, and I saw no evidence of that. His eyes were more like blades: cold, sharp and deadly in their indifference. I was relieved Governor Dolos was also in attendance, as it forced him to split his attention, his gaze skewering us in turn. The governor seemed immune, no doubt having experienced far worse in her time. But it had been years since someone of influence had regarded me with such ill-disguised contempt. Not since my apprenticeship, though I hoped that, unlike my former master, Wing Commander Prospherous would refrain from beating me about the head.

I cleared my throat. ‘Sir, if I might–’

He raised his hand, the gesture silencing me as efficiently as a bullet to the temple.

‘Propagandist Simlex,’ he said. ‘You will, I trust, forgive me for not having seen you sooner. But there is currently a war on. An actual war, mind, not a staged conflict for the pict screens that squanders valuable resources. This is reality, life and death.’

‘Yes, sir. I understand.’