She dipped her head and stared at the floor, trying to dispel her doom-laden thoughts so that she could restore her mind to its analytical best. She now looked up at Saul. ‘He was our political director, so he must have taken whatever he wanted of my research and applied it to himself – whether with government permission or not, I don’t know.’ To Braddock she now continued, ‘He’s the same type as Malden, but managed to outmanoeuvre Malden because he was well prepared, and because he’s been running the hardware in his skull longer and knows better how to use it.’

‘What about him?’ Braddock indicated Saul with a tilt of his chin.

What about him? Hannah wondered. Saul had obviously expected to come up here and snatch control of the station as easily as he had taken control of the cell complex, and if there had only been normal humans and computers for him to overcome, he would have had every chance of succeeding. But, first, Malden had stood in his way, and now a comlife poisonous spider lurked at the heart of things. And, just to add to their woes, station security officers were now searching for them, so this little hideaway would not remain safe for much longer. Could Saul triumph over such odds? Was he strong enough yet? Gazing at him, she had to wonder just what was going on behind those unreadable red eyes. She now spoke to try and boost her own confidence:

‘The hardware and software inside his skull is far in advance of that used by both Malden and Smith – his intelligence, too,’ she explained. ‘He just hasn’t had a chance to use it yet.’

‘What, my intelligence?’ Saul joked.

Hannah did not respond to this attempt at humour. It was dry and disconnected anyway, since Saul was somewhere else, his gaze directed overhead and his face expressionless. It almost seemed as if an empty mannikin sat in his place.

‘What do we do now?’ she asked.

‘I am considering our options,’ he replied.

‘Perhaps if you could let us in?’ she suggested.

His gaze dropped to focus briefly on her, then on Braddock.

‘I am simply bringing more of myself online,’ he explained icily. ‘Even though I cannot connect to the local network, I can that way more accurately analyse the circumstances that brought us to our current position, and from there divine a solution.’

His gaze drifted away from them as he continued speaking, till it almost seemed as if it wasn’t actually him speaking – as if the real Saul was elsewhere and had delegated the tiresome task of turning thoughts into words to some subprogram of his mind.