The wall behind Hex’s back suddenly gave way, and she was tipped onto the cold ground. When she looked up she saw that the ‘sandbags’ were suspended in the thin air, heavy, rippling sacks swarming over her head. There must have been fifty of them, more.

This ‘wall’ had a been a reef of ur-Ghosts, huddled together. She should have known, she thought; she had seen their space-filling antics in combat. What a stupid mistake.

The ur-Ghosts descended.

Borno screamed, ‘Weapons!’ Snarling, his blade in his hand, he was trying to get to his feet.

Hex raised her arms. Her suit weapons powered up.

‘Don’t fire.’

The ur-Ghosts went limp, quivered, and fell. It was like having sacks of water dropped on you from a height. Hex’s suit turned rigid to protect her. Then the crew of the Spear fought their way out from the heap, shoving the floppy sacks away with a whir of exoskeletal multipliers.

Beyond this chaotic scene a Ghost hovered, bobbing gently with a delicacy that belied its mass. It was one of the modern kind, a smooth, seamless sphere. Borno raised his blade, but Hex grabbed his arm.

‘You are the Ghost we met. The Integumentary. You’ve dogged us all the way.’

‘Yes. From one blunder to another. I am here to ensure the success of the mission. I hoped I wouldn’t have to reveal myself; I hoped in vain. I never believed you would be so stupid as to hide behind a stack of warriors.’

Jul looked around at the limp ur-Ghosts that lay like immense raindrops on the ground. ‘Why do they cluster like this? You don’t.’

‘Perhaps it’s a relic of their past,’ Hella said. ‘Swimmer congregated with his kind. These strange forms long to do the same.’

‘Now they know you are here,’ the Ghost said. ‘The Black Ghost and his hierarchy. They know I am here. You have little time. I suggest you hurry to the transporter you chose.’

They clambered past the heaps of fallen Ghosts and ran.

The four ur-Ghosts who had been tending the palette-ship had fallen like the others. When Borno reached the first of the ur-Ghosts he raised his knife, preparing to cut into its hide.

‘It is dead,’ the Integumentary said quickly. ‘I had to kill it. I had to kill them all.’ It hovered over the fallen ur-Ghosts, its movements agitated.

Borno, his knife still raised, laughed. ‘You killed your own kind, dozens of them, to aid an enemy that is determined to eradicate your species. You really are screwed up, Ghost.’

‘I serve a cause beyond your comprehension.’

‘Oh, really? Comprehend this.’ Borno plunged his knife into Ghost hide. A watery fluid, laced with red blood, spilled out onto the cold ground.

‘I told you it is dead,’ said the Integumentary.