“How about now?” Kiva asked, ten seconds later.

Chat looked up through bloodshot eyes with an expression that said You have to be fucking kidding me, but nodded.

“You’re Chat Ubdal.”

Nod.

“You came onto this ship under false pretenses.”

Nod.

“You work for Ghreni Nohamapetan.”

Nod.

“Who sent you out on this ship.”

Nod.

“To kill Marce Claremont.”

Chat held up a hand and made a wiggling motion. Sorta.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Chat tried to make words, stopped, swallowed, and tried again. “Not primary goal,” he managed to croak.

“What was your primary goal?”

“Take him alive.”

“How the fuck were you going to take him alive? You can’t leave the fucking ship!”

Chat looked at the airlock door and then back at the camera, as if to say, Oh, really.

“You can’t leave the ship alive, then, you enormous asshole.”

“Pirates,” Chat croaked.

“Oh, shit,” Kiva said, looking over at Pinton.

“The pirates aren’t coming for our cargo,” Pinton said. “They’re a shuttle service.”

“But we could get away from the pirates,” Kiva said, back to Chat. “Maybe.”

Chat shook his head. “Bomb,” he said.

“A bomb?” Kiva was incredulous. “You were going to put a fucking bomb on this ship?” Chat nodded. “How does blowing up the fucking ship serve your purpose?”

Chat shook his head and tried talking but he was trying to make too many words and choked to a stop.

“Let me try,” Pinton said, and leaned over so Chat could hear him. “You weren’t going to blow up the ship, were you? You were just going to disrupt the ship’s systems enough that it couldn’t get into the Flow.”

Chat nodded and pointed to the camera, as if to say, You got it.

“That’s why he was touring those particular corridors,” Pinton said, to Kiva. “He was looking for the right place to put the thing.”

“And he didn’t think we would notice? Blinnikka would space him the second he did that.”

“We’d have to deal with the explosion and damage first, and then there would be pirates and we’d be too busy to worry about him for a while. I suspect he intended to leave on the pirate ship, along with Claremont.”

“And how would he get a bomb on the fucking ship anyway? Don’t we fucking screen for that?”

“It’s probably not a big bomb,” Pinton said. “He could probably make it on the ship.” Pinton leaned back over. “If we go through your personal effects, we’re going to find bomb components disguised as toiletries and sundries, yes?”

Chat nodded.

“There you go,” Pinton said.

“This motherfucker,” Kiva said. “I want to space him just on principle.”

“Microphone,” Pinton said, pointing.