Langstrom’s companions followed suit, till shortly a stack of side arms, machine pistols and assault rifles lay on the floor. Saul began to walk again, beckoning Hannah after him. They rounded the corner just as Langstrom and crew were turning to head off again. They swung back and just eyed Saul carefully. As he advanced, he studied them too, through his own eyes and through the sensors of the readerguns behind him and also behind them, their electronic triggers at the ready, and a program already loaded that would have them responding to the detection of any overlooked firearm.

Saul came to a halt ten paces away from them.

‘Smith’s back there?’ Langstrom enquired, jerking his chin towards the dead man’s one-time control centre.

‘He is.’

‘What do you intend doing with us now?’

Saul gazed at him steadily. ‘You live or die at my whim. At present it is my whim that you live.’

‘No change, then,’ the commander replied. ‘We lived or died at Smith’s whim.’

‘And yet you obeyed him and deliberately led me into a trap. Also you killed Braddock.’

‘I’d seen what happened to those who ever disobeyed him.’

‘There then is the difference between myself and Smith.’

‘Oh, yeah?’

‘Yes – I wouldn’t torture you for disobedience, I’d just kill you. Now,’ Saul paused in apparent thought, ‘most of your companions here can return to barracks, but for you,’ Saul pointed at Peach, ‘and you,’ he indicated Langstrom, ‘I have another task.’

When Langstrom just stood motionless, Saul added, ‘Now.’

Langstrom waved a hand and all but Peach retreated, glancing behind them as they went. Despite Saul’s claim otherwise, they probably thought he meant to kill Langstrom – and the commander himself probably thought so too. Saul felt he could perfectly justify that to himself, as vengeance for Braddock, but, no, he actually had something else in mind.

‘So what’s this task?’ Langstrom asked.

‘I want you to go and collect Smith’s body. Then I want you to take it to the nearest digester, which is at the bottom level of the Political Office. You’ll have to strip him of his clothing before he goes in, as a VC suit won’t digest.’ Now he turned to Peach, and pointed to the combat recorder extending alongside her temple from her fone. ‘You will film your commander here while he carries out my orders. I want clear images of Smith’s face, and unbroken footage of him being taken to the digester and fed into it. Then, after you have both returned to barracks, I want that same image file made available to every console aboard this station. Is that clear?’