Drusher saw the look on Jaff’s face. That was a micro-expression he understood. Jaff was terrified of Gobleka. Drusher had no doubt this stemmed from Gobleka’s imposing physicality and charming manners, but he was also sure Jaff had something to prove. She hadn’t sprung the trap and killed them all cleanly at Helter. She’d let them get inside Keshtre. She was clearly keen to demonstrate her competence and make up for the error. Drusher doubted the Cognitae offered much in the way of second chances to those in their service.

‘Where’s Eisenhorn?’ Jaff asked, her weapon still aimed.

‘I don’t know,’ said Drusher.

‘True?’ asked Gobleka.

‘Yes,’ said Jaff. ‘He couldn’t cloak a response to that question.’

Gobleka nodded.

‘Take him down to the cellar cages,’ said Gobleka.

Jaff hesitated.

‘What?’ Gobleka asked.

‘Can’t Blayg or Streekal do it?’ she asked.

‘Do it your bloody self, Jaff,’ sneered the overweight man.

‘I want to get back out,’ said Jaff to Gobleka. ‘Betancore is outside. The remaining loose end. I need to deal with her, and I’m the best choice to get close to her.’

‘Put him away. Then you can go,’ said Gobleka.

Jaff looked at Drusher and gestured with her gun.

He went where she told him to go. Jaff walked behind him, covering him with her weapon. They descended from the gantry and followed a route down the tower, crossing platforms and walking down suspended staircases, the brass wheels and gears of the Great Machine whirring around them. Drusher tried not to feel alarm at the immense drop below them: his good old fear of heights. A gun at his back served to focus his mind.

‘What does it do?’ he asked.

‘Shut up,’ she said.

‘You’re making something. This machine, it’s very old, isn’t it?’

‘Drusher, you’re not that useful. Shut up.’

Drusher felt an odd tingling sensation in the base of his skull. He stopped walking and leaned on a handrail.

‘Keep walking,’ she said.

‘Just a minute,’ Drusher said. ‘I feel faint.’

He looked out at the machinery, at the other platforms and walkways. He looked at the shadows, hoping…

The tingle throbbed in the back of his head.

He straightened up.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘I feel better now.’

He looked at Jaff and gestured at the Great Machine.

‘Come on, how old?’ he asked.

She jabbed the gun in his ribs.

‘Walk,’ she hissed.

‘You can’t blame me for being fascinated, mamzel. It’s my job to enquire. My life’s work.’

‘As of now, you have no life.’

He looked around, thoughtfully.

‘These… tests. What is my fate going to be, Audla?’

She frowned at him.

‘Painful,’ she said.

‘Oh,’ he shrugged. ‘That’s a shame. I really don’t do pain well. What sort of pain?’

‘Walk,’ she snapped.

‘Seriously, so I can brace myself…’

She put the gun against his forehead again.