“Of course not. I’m an avatar. ‘Killed’ doesn’t even mean the same thing for me. You’re a bio; I’ve seen how you guys die and it’s messy.”

“I meant as the ship. The Mistake Not … You’re liable to get killed. Aren’t you?”

“A slightly more weighty consideration, I accept, but even then; I’ve already transmitted my mind-state to my home GSV and switched to full combat readiness, so I’m kind of ready for death. And anyway, not dead yet.”

“This is my fight, though, isn’t it? More than yours?”

Berdle sighed. “This is about the Gzilt, but the Culture appears to be all mixed up in it, through QiRia, so it’s our problem to sort out.”

“It’s still basically about us. You can’t do everything. You’re not our … parent.”

“You’re not even backed-up, Cossont. If you die, you die.”

“Can’t you back me up?”

“No.”

She had a sudden thought. “Did you back-up QiRia, his mind-state from the grey cube?”

“Yes. Also transmitted, with a note it’s private and to be wiped if the original survives.”

She frowned. “Why can’t you back me up?”

“You’ve no neural lace; even starting right now it would take far too long. We’re already out of time.” Berdle waved his hands, as though exasperated. “Why are you so keen to risk your life anyway? You’re a military reservist civilian facing Subliming in a couple of days; why the rush to die? And, I’m telling you: having you present will make my job harder, not easier. You won’t be contributing, you’ll be jeopardising.”

“First of all, on that last point, I don’t believe you. I think you’re just trying to protect me, being all male-gallant. I’m flattered but there’s no need.”

“I’m a fucking razor-arsed starship, you maniac! I’m not male, female or anything else except stupendously smart and right now tuned to smite. I don’t give a fuck about flattering you. The few and frankly not vitally important sentiments I have concerning you I can switch off like flicking a switch.”

“Anyway. You can’t keep me prisoner on the ship. You’re Culture and I’m a free agent. I demand to be set down in the Girdlecity.”

“They are looking for you, remember? They think you trashed Fzan-Juym with your bare hands or whatever the fuck.”

“So you’d better look after me then.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you! I don’t need that extra workload! And if you insist on quitting the ship I’ll put you down wherever I damn well please, not where you specifically demand, so there you are; you can’t win.”