Saul flicked his attention to the robots he controlled, already running self-diagnostics and stretching like cats. They needed to become a little bit more sneaky if they were to end up going against weapons that could fry their electronics, so he began programming them to that purpose. A suitable name for that program was ‘Ambush Predator’. Except for just a few still gathered about Tech Central, he began dispersing them to the outer limits of the area he currently controlled.

‘Fuck the fucking planes,’ was Langstrom’s rejoinder. ‘You’ve been down on me from the start just because I wouldn’t back you up on Le Roque.’

‘It is advisable to exercise some caution during discourse,’ Smith warned him mildly.

‘Oh, right, I might get myself in trouble.’

After a brief pause, Smith said, ‘It is unfortunate to note that you have disconnected your system from Political Office Oversight and lowered your security firewall. In circumstances such as the current ones, this must be considered an adjustment offence.’

Saul was on it in a second, realizing that everything in the barracks now lay open to him. He began seizing control of readerguns and cameras, locking them into his own network, while locking out a sudden flanking attack from Smith – an information serpent looping round to try and shove its way through the same hole Saul was using. Next, Saul had control of the air, the power, even the medical machines. He could kill them all off in an instant, and meanwhile the realm he controlled had just grown significantly in volume, because now his reach extended over to the other side of Arcoplex One. If this was some sort of trap, Saul could not detect it.

‘Yeah, right, so I might end up in an adjustment cell for that!’ Langstrom responded. ‘Oh, too late, seems I’m already destined for one of your cells, because you don’t like the way I think.’

‘So at this crucial time you betray our plans to enemies of the state?’

Langstrom smashed a hand down on the computer keyboard, cutting off further communication.

‘That’s pretty shitty,’ remarked one of his sergeants.

Langstrom nodded, his expression resolute, then turned on him, pulling a side arm. Without further ado, he raised it and shot the speaker straight through the face, spraying his brains over the door. The impact jerked him up off his gecko boots and sent him tumbling between the two men behind him. His corpse hit the door and bounced, before it began to drift away again. Globules of blood and brain and chunks of skull fell about the room like red-and-pink snow.

‘Fuck, you could have warned me.’ The muscular soldier with coal-black skin flicked a fragment of skull off his shoulder, then raised a boot to field the corpse and press it down to the floor. Blood went on pumping from the head wound, winding out in a thick snake across the floor, its back rippling like red mercury.