It would be sent three stints before the disruption; that didn’t quite prove that she’d be walking free right to the end, but it was more reassuring than absolute silence. And if the meaning was opaque to her at present, she could only hope that anyone spying on her would find the lack of context unremarkable. There was no reason for anyone’s private messages to spell out every detail of the dilemmas they were intended to resolve. The bandwidth quotas weren’t infinite: gnomic brevity would generally be a virtue, not a sign that the sender had something to hide.

When her turn came at the counter she asked for two plain loaves; she’d discovered after the welcoming party that her gut no longer appreciated fresh spices. She carried the food to the corner farthest from the entrance, where an awkwardly placed cooling vent discouraged most diners. The present crowd left few enough alternatives for her choice not to seem too perverse.

She sat on the floor and ate slowly, her front eyes on her food, her rear gaze to the wall.

She was halfway through the second loaf when a man addressed her. ‘Did you drop these?’ Agata looked up. There were three coins on his outstretched palm; she squinted at them, memorised their value, then said, ‘No, they’re not mine.’

‘Sorry to have troubled you.’

Pio hadn’t told her how long she should wait, so as soon as she’d finished eating she left the hall and headed for the address indexed by the coins’ denominations. The area wasn’t familiar to her, but as she ascended the stairs towards the axis and then dragged herself along the corridor towards her destination, the smooth texture of the rock beneath her feet and the red tunnel of the moss-lit walls were enough to induce an ache of recognition. The death of every traveller save a handful of evacuees was beyond her power to imagine, but she’d come as close as anyone alive to feeling the absence of the mountain itself. If she needed a vision of the loss she was fighting to prevent, she could think of the Peerless retreating into the distance, shrinking to a dark speck against the stars and then vanishing.

Outside the door, she hesitated, but she’d have to trust Pio’s comrades to have chosen an appropriate level of precautions, and the innovation block to have kept the Council from automatically tracking everyone, everywhere. She knocked firmly, and after a few pauses the door swung open and a man invited her into the apartment.

‘My name’s Giacomo,’ he said.

‘I’m Agata.’ She closed the door behind her. ‘Can we talk freely?’

‘Absolutely,’ Giacomo assured her.