Radimir muttered a prayer to all of his gods and threw the cursed thing. It struck the lumen true, smashed it, and the room was plunged into total, blessed blackness.

There was no time to look; someone could push the door open at any moment. Radimir threw himself into darkness’ embrace, trusting to chance and the mercy of his true patrons.

Opening Doors

Opening Doors

Prefect Bezamor Gurrit was in charge of the Administratum’s functions across Vorlese, at least so far as Chetta could work out, and she’d already decided that he was about as much use as a hydraulic wrench in a void battle. Which was to say, he had a specific function, and he was very well suited to it, and he would not benefit her in any way. He was ninety-seven Terran years old, apparently, with only one remaining human eye. The stare from his bionic was possibly warmer.

‘High lady,’ he rasped, with all the respect and reverence that might infuse a proctor’s utterance of the word ‘citizen’ when addressed to someone in possession of goods that weren’t strictly theirs. ‘Do you have any idea, any whatsoever, of how ridiculous this request is?’

‘I feel that you and I may have differing opinions on that, prefect,’ Chetta replied dryly. ‘In a similar vein to how we each view matters like “urgent”, or even “critical to planetary security”.’

‘If the matter is as critical as you say, and somehow linked to the awful events at Gallimo, then why am I speaking to you, and not to Judge Arctos?’ Gurrit demanded.

‘Judge Arctos is, I’m certain, pursuing his own investigations into this matter,’ Chetta said. At least, I certainly hope so. ‘However, the Adeptus Arbites have many things to occupy their attention. I am in the position of being extremely intelligent, extremely worried and in need of something to occupy my brain in the aftermath of my husband’s death. I can assist the judge, if you assist me.’

‘That would be quite impossible,’ Gurrit snorted. ‘Passenger records are strictly controlled and may only be accessed by adepts of appropriate rank within the Administratum, or by law enforcement officials upon the presentation of appropriate documentation. You are neither, high lady, and I strongly suggest that you keep your nose out of that which does not concern you.’ He glanced at the gilt-chased chrono which hung on the wall, making an obnoxious ticking noise. ‘Thus far you have taken up three minutes and forty-nine seconds of my time. I can allow no more. Data waits for no man, and nor may I.’