Together they prised open the ripped hull. There wasn’t much to see. Opaqued, the hull looked like scuffed metal, and all the pod’s control surfaces were blank, dead. But there was a man - Tomm guessed he was the pilot - crumpled up into the nose of the pod, the way you’d wad a tissue into your pocket.

The woman bent over the pilot, feeling at his neck. ‘He’s still alive. Fluttery pulse . . . Lethe, I’m not trained for this. What’s your name?’

‘Tomm.’

‘All right, Tomm. I’m Xera. I need you to pass me a med cloak. In the compartment behind you.’

The door was stiff, but Tomm was strong. The cloak was brilliant orange, so bright it seemed to dazzle. Xera just threw the cloak at the pilot. It immediately began to work its way around the body, then it filled up with more white goo.

When the cloak had set hard Xera took the pilot’s shoulders, Tomm his legs. The pilot felt lighter than he looked. They got him out through the ripped hull, and set him on the ground. He lay there in the dirt, wrapped up like a bug in a cocoon, only his bruised face showing.

‘He looks young,’ Tomm said.

‘He’s only fifteen.’ She glanced at him. ‘How old are you?’

‘Eight. How old are you?’

She forced a smile. ‘Twenty-five standard. I think you’re very brave.’ She waved a trembling hand. ‘To cope with all this. A crashing spaceship. An injured man.’

Tomm shrugged. He had grown up on a farm. He knew about life, injury, death.

He waited to see what happened next.

The air was warm, and smelled of rust. The land was like a tabletop, worn flat.

Kard had dumped heaps of equipment out of the flitter onto the ground, and was pawing through it.

Xera said, ‘Admiral - what happened?’

‘The Squeem,’ Kard said bluntly. ‘Dead, every last one of them. All the systems are down. We didn’t even get a mayday out.’ He glanced at the complex sky. ‘The controllers don’t know we are here. It’s happened before. Nobody knows how the little bastards manage it.’

‘You’re saying the Squeem killed themselves to sabotage us?’

‘Oh, you think it’s a coincidence it happened just as we came into our final descent?’

The Squeem were group-mind aquatic creatures, a little like fish. Once, it was said, they had conquered Earth itself. Now, long Assimilated, they were used as communications links, as a piece of technology. Some humans had even taken Squeem implants. But it seemed that the Squeem were still capable of defiance. Maybe, she thought, the Assimilation wasn’t as complete as it was presented by Commission propagandists.

Kard’s hard gaze slid over the bundled pilot, as if reluctant to look at him too closely.

Xera said, ‘Stub is hurt. The cloak will keep him alive for a while, but—’