‘You said that last time, Trig,’ said the woman next to him, who was as small as the ion engineer, but tough-looking instead, with her arms bared on the table before her, all messed over with tattoos and bulging with muscles. She had her hair shaved on one side of her scalp, long on the other, and her eyebrows looked like they’d been drawn on with ink, which maybe they had.

‘Trysil,’ she said, in her broken rasp of her voice. ‘Assessor.’ She reached out a hand, shaking with us in turn. Her grip was firm, and her palm was rough.

‘What happened last time?’ I asked.

‘There wasn’t a last time,’ said Mattice, smiling fiercely.

‘They may as well find out about the screamer now,’ Prozor said, biting into her loaf. ‘Because they soon will, whatever happens.’

‘Screamer?’ I asked.

Just then there was a creak, a groan, as if the ship itself were suffering some spasm of indigestion. I tensed, as did Adrana, but only for as long as it took for us to realise that none of the others were concerned. In fact, the sound drew a murmur of celebration from them, with even Prozor lifting a tankard.

‘That didn’t take long,’ Trysil said, clenching a fist so that the muscles popped out along her arm.

‘You know the captain. When he wants to leave, we leave.’

‘Are we on sails now?’ Adrana asked.

‘Ions,’ Triglav said. ‘We’ll run the sails out when we’ve put some distance twixt us and Mazarile, but this close in there’s too much risk of puncturing them with space debris.’ He wiped a hand across his mouth. ‘Best go and earn my fee, hadn’t I? I don’t want that engine overheating before Hirtshal’s ready with the new sail.’ Then he nodded at Adrana and me. ‘Welcome aboard.’

‘Thank you,’ I said.

They cleared away from the table, one after the other, until it was only Jusquerel left with Adrana and me. She kept on eating and drinking for at least a minute before saying anything. That was just her unhurried way, though, and I didn’t think there was anything in her manner meant to unsettle us.

‘You needn’t mind Prozor.’

‘She doesn’t seem to like us very much,’ Adrana said.

‘It’s not you. It’s what you are.’ Her jaw worked as she chewed. ‘Here. Have some more bread. Mattice was right: you both need feeding up.’

‘I don’t have much of an appetite,’ I said.