The man’s reactions were good, but he flinched as he caught sight of the powerblade – probably a reaction to the infra-goggles burning the image into his retinas rather than fear of the weapon itself – and that gave Radimir the opening he needed. He ducked under the barrel of the autopistol tracking towards him and grabbed the other man’s wrist, then slashed downwards with his knife. The power field sliced through flesh and bone alike in the forearm and the man’s hand came away; then Radimir’s back-cut opened his throat as well, and he too collapsed.

It had taken less than two seconds. The third intruder backed away from him clumsily, blindly, tripping over a table and falling against the wall, which was thin enough to take a dent from the impact. Radimir lunged at them, ripped away the respirator they wore and clamped his hand over their mouth to prevent them from crying out…

He held his strike. Even without the glow from his knife, he recognised Kell’s eyes, eyebrows and forehead. She looked terrified, and confused. Understandable: so far as she was concerned, the man she’d hired was merely a very efficient contract killer, one with a reputation that covered multiple systems. She’d have no idea of how he’d suddenly come to be in the room with them.

‘Why are you here?’ he demanded, blade poised. He removed his hand slightly, confident that the threat of death would keep her voice down.

‘Two deaths,’ Kell hissed, her eyes wide and pupils sharp as pins as they tried to adjust to the burning light of the power knife.

‘Three deaths,’ Radimir corrected her. ‘I dumped one in the river – Brobantis won’t find the body.’

‘Two deaths,’ Kell insisted, her gaze momentarily leaving the knife and meeting his. ‘Two Navigators killed in a backroom narc lounge, in the Mids of Decimus Block. Neither of them were Brobantis.’

Radimir snorted. ‘And why is that a problem?’

‘Your contract was for Brobantis!’ Kell hissed desperately. ‘Only Brobantis!’

Ah. So his patron was one of the other Navigator houses then, as he’d suspected, and they now feared that their own members would fall victim to him. Or indeed, perhaps at least one already had. He wondered which families the Navigators at the Star Lounge had belonged to. It would be good to know whose lackeys were likely to come gunning for him in the future.

‘Who do you work for?’ he murmured, moving his knife down slowly until the crackling blade hovered just above Kell’s heart.

‘I have sworn loyalty,’ she whispered shakily, ‘unto death.’