King opened a link to the approaching ship, dropping his defences, and in an instant Jerusalem’s probe slammed inside him. He knew that, though he willingly allowed this, the sheer power of the mind behind that probe meant it could probably have been performed without his submission. Jerusalem sent HK programs inside King, riffling through his systems, inspecting memories. The link was utterly one-sided, so he gained little from the other mind. However, he did know that Jerusalem was similarly probing the mind of the wrecked ship, and other ships nearby too, just as other minds of equivalent power probed fleet ships throughout the system. Then, the probe abruptly withdrew, the HK programs scurrying after it like hunting dogs. King found himself linked into a three-sided communication.

‘Your decision,’ said Jerusalem to the other ship.

A signal was transmitted, and King observed the mines dotted along his hull deactivating and detaching.

‘A shuttle will now collect your passengers, and after that you may go,’ said the mind within the wrecked ship.

King could not understand. He had destroyed the Jack Ketch, killed another AI mind—so why were they prepared to let him go? Probably, he decided, they had no intention of letting him escape. Maybe they felt they still needed ships like him in the future conflict, and therefore hoped to re-recruit him. He detached his grapnels as he observed a shuttle and a grabship, departing from one of the Jerusalem’s, bays, no doubt coming to collect his passengers and the wreck. The communication between Jerusalem and the other ship continued.

‘So you still survive,’ said Jerusalem.

‘I do . . . sort of.’

‘And Cormac survived. How . . . elegant. I will observe his debriefing with some interest.’

‘Will there really be anything of importance to learn?’

‘I said “with interest”.’

‘I see.’

‘I suppose you’ll be wanting a new ship body?’ Jerusalem enquired.

‘That would perhaps be a good idea.’

‘Would it? You seem to make a habit of wrecking them. You will take better care of a new one this time, won’t you, Jack?’

‘Bollocks,’ replied Jack Ketch.

Ah . . . thought King.

Gazing through the panoramic window in one of the Jerusalem’s lounges, Cormac watched the glint of drives coming on and going out. Through his gridlink he dipped and delved in the coms traffic and put together a general picture of what was now occurring in this system. The terraforming energies being employed here now lay under Jerusalem’s direct control, that superior AI serving the military governor of this entire system which was now, he guessed, equivalent to a fortress. If anything unexpected surfaced from U-space now, it would immediately become the target for arrays of masers, lasers, and the focused light of sun mirrors. Many systems in the Polity would doubtless be similarly prepared, had been preparing for some time. But he was also painfully aware of just how many stations and worlds lay vulnerable to attack from something like Erebus.