‘But maybe that’s the point,’ Poole said.

‘So strange,’ Mara said again.

Captain Tahget blocked her way. ‘But,’ he said, ‘not so strange as the fact that you, madam, were able to smuggle a monopole bomb onto my ship.’

The mood immediately changed. Mara, obviously frightened, shrank back against Poole, coming so close she brushed against him, making his flank sparkle with disrupted pixels.

Poole said warningly, ‘Captain, you promised you wouldn’t interfere with her.’

Tahget held up his big hands. ‘And I will keep my word. Nobody will touch the bomb, or Mara here, and we’ll go through with our flight to Chandra as we agreed.’

‘But,’ Poole said heavily, ‘you had an ulterior motive in getting her out here, despite your promises.’

‘All right,’ Captain Tahget snapped. ‘I need some answers. I must know how she got us all into this situation.’

Futurity asked, ‘Why?’

Tahget barely glanced at him. ‘To stop it happening again.’ He glared at Mara. ‘Who helped you? Somebody must have. You’re nothing but a refugee from Chandra; you came to 478 with nothing. Who helped you smuggle a bomb on board? Who equipped you with the means to use it? And why? I know what you want - I don’t understand, but I’ve heard what you said. What I don’t know is what your benefactors want. And I need to know.’

She returned his stare defiantly. ‘I want to go back to my cabin.’

But Tahget wouldn’t back down. The stand-off was tense, and Futurity, his heart pumping, couldn’t see a way out.

Poole intervened. ‘Mara, it may be best to tell him what he wants to know.’

‘But—’

‘Telling him who helped you will make no difference to you. You aren’t going to come this way again, are you? And I can see the other point of view. Captain Tahget is responsible for his ship.’ Mara hesitated, but Poole continued to reassure her. ‘I believe he’ll keep his word. Just tell him.’

She took a deep breath. ‘Her name is Ideator First Class Leen.’

Tahget growled, ‘Who?’

But Futurity was shocked. He knew the name: the person who had helped Mara set all this up was a priest belonging to the Guild of Virtual Idealism.

Poole’s jaw dropped when he heard this. ‘My own makers! How delicious.’

Mara began to explain how the Ideator had helped her smuggle the bomb and other equipment aboard, but Tahget waved her silent. ‘If that bunch of illusionists was involved, anything could have been done to us and we wouldn’t know it.’ His suspicious frown deepened. ‘And then, once you were aboard, you asked for Poole himself. So was that part of the scheme?’

‘No,’ she insisted. ‘The Ideator did tell me Michael Poole had been reincarnated on 478. But it was my idea to ask for him, not hers.’