Prozor was the last one to get into her seat. She doled out the sharp things, showing us how they fixed onto the armour so we wouldn’t need to carry them in our hands. Some were stubby little knives that would be good for stabbing, while others were closer to short swords, with straight and curved blades. ‘Whatever these’re made from,’ she was instructing us, like we were the pupils and she the wise old teacher, ‘there isn’t much they won’t go through, other than Ghostie armour itself. Skin, bone, metal, glass, it’s all the same to Ghostie knives. You saw what the edge did to my glove, and I hardly touched it.’

‘We’ll be careful,’ I said, flexing my tin fingers and thinking of the price I’d paid for them.

‘What about the guns?’ Strambli said. ‘There’s a reason guns aren’t a good idea on a ship.’

‘That’s why we’ll be treatin’ ’em strictly as a last resort,’ Prozor said. ‘Think I can hold you to that?’

‘Yes,’ Strambli said, swallowing hard.

‘Good. Soon as we’re on the Queenie, we’ll stock up on crossbows anyway. You do have crossbows, don’t you, Cap’n?’

‘Yes . . . I’ll have Drozna open the armoury.’

She sprang forward, even against the gravity of the launch’s rocket, and jammed her hand over the console. ‘You’re still not gettin’ it, are you? Twitchin’ at a false echo on the sweeper’s one thing, but if Bosa thinks you’ve clued up to her, she’ll just pepper you for the fun of it. She wants that skull but she don’t want it that badly. There’ll be other ships, other crews.’

‘I didn’t ask for this,’ Trusko said, his voice small.

‘None of us did, cove,’ I told him. ‘But we’re getting it anyway.’

The squawk crackled. I was ready for Drozna’s voice to come out of it, but when the words came out smothered in static, all chopped up and reassembled, echoing and circling around on each other, biting each other’s tails, I knew who was doing the speaking.

‘Captain Trusko. That’s who I’ve got on the end, ain’t it? Brave Captain Trusko and the brave ship Queen Crimson. I got your registry, got your name, got the word of what you were after around this bauble. Do I have to spell out who I am? It’s Bosa, boys and girls. Bosa’s here, with Bosa’s ship, and Bosa’s got you handsomely outgunned.’

‘Don’t respond,’ Prozor said. ‘How far out are we?’

‘Five minutes. I have eyes on the Queenie, but . . .’

‘You can leg it now,’ Prozor told him. ‘It’s what anyone sane would do, havin’ just had an introduction from Bosa Sennen. Pour on the rockets and get us docked.’