‘Take the iterator and the remembrancer back to their quarters,’ said Maloghurst. ‘Post guards and ensure that there are no more breaches.’ Maggard nodded and stepped forwards. Mersadie tried to avoid him, but he was quick and strong. His hand grabbed her neck and he yanked her towards the door. Sindermann had not resisted.

Maloghurst stood between Loken and the door. If Loken wanted to stop Maggard and his men, he would have to go through Maloghurst.

Mersadie tried to look back. She could see Loken beyond Maloghurst’s robed form, looking like a caged animal ready to attack. The door slammed shut.

‘No,’ she shouted, and heard the word come out as a whisper as she made to try to run towards a closed door.

She stopped. She still had the gun in her hand, she realised, and the entryway in front of her was not a hatch on the Vengeful Spirit, but a yellow-and-black chevroned blast door closing off a hold on the Antius.

Mori was looking at her, eyes wide with fresh fear. For a second, Mersadie saw a reflection of her own terror in the girl’s stare. With a breath she forced her hands to still, and then tucked the gun out of sight. She turned back to the door. There was a vox-horn next to the locking mechanism. She pushed the green intoning rune beside it. A snap of static spat from the speaker-grille. A wail of distortion rose over the shouting. The banging on the other side of the door stopped. Mersadie swallowed in a dry throat.

‘If you can…’ she began, then stopped as the sound of her own voice hummed through the speaker. ‘If you can hear me,’ she said, and felt the words gain strength as she spoke, ‘then you are alive. A military force tried to board the ship. They are dead. As far as I know the crew are dead too. The ship is drifting.’ She paused, hearing her words echo. She sounded calm, she realised. In control. ‘We can all get out of this, but only if we all stay steady. I am going to open the door in a moment. If there are any of you who have crewed a ship before, or know about anything that will keep one going, then come forwards.’ She stopped again and turned away from the vox-horn. Then she turned back and keyed it on again. ‘My name is Mersadie Oliton,’ she said.

She reached for the door lock release, paused, closed her eyes. She thought of the shuttle sitting in the hangar just a few hundred metres away. Nilus had thought they should run, leave this ship of the desperate and the dead. The world inside her skull was spinning, but her thoughts had found a clear centre. There was only one way she would let herself survive this.