‘That is what is needed in this war, captain,’ said Malcador, his voice suddenly hard. ‘Even now, at this hour, and with all that we face. Innocence proves nothing and can even be a weapon.’

‘You have no right,’ growled Loken, leaning forwards, gauntlets resting on the polished wood of the desk. Aggression was boiling off him. Su-Kassen felt her hand twitch towards the holster of the shot-pistol that she had surrendered at the chamber door.

Malcador stood, eyes bright, face hard, and the frailty that had clung to him fell away. He seemed taller, his shadow lengthening as the lights around the chamber dimmed.

‘I have a duty,’ he said. ‘A duty to see all that our enemy would destroy survive, and in holding to that duty I will do what others will not. We are all expendable. You, me, every adult and every child, every hope we held, every dream that we clung to. All of it. All of it, captain. That is my duty, and I will see it done, even if others do not like the price that they would not pay themselves.’

Loken had not moved, but the anger in his eyes seemed to have become something else, something colder.

‘I would pay that price, but not with the coin you offer.’

‘That is why I stand where I do. Because if we fail then there will be nothing left, not even the memory of what was lost. Would you rather that? Would you rather the future that your gene-sire Horus dreams for humanity? If you would, then honour your convictions and try to kill me now, because I will not stop, and I will not explain myself to you again.’

Loken rocked back. The shadow of Malcador drew upwards, spreading across the ceiling. Su-Kassen felt her nerves screaming to run, to get away from the cold rage that was flooding out as the light dimmed.

Then it was gone, and the old man standing with the help of his staff looked old and exhausted. Loken’s face was fixed, but pale. Malcador closed his eyes for a second, and then took an unsteady step forwards, and put a hand on Loken’s shoulder guard. Beneath the fingers, the emblem of an eye etched into the grey ceramite gleamed coldly for an instant.

‘I am sorry,’ said Malcador. ‘I understand, but these are necessities, captain. If it helps, it was not a specific order relating to Mistress Oliton. The hunt-and-termination protocols are general, a contingency put in place a long time ago.’

Loken shrugged free of the Regent’s touch, face still stone-like.

‘There was a signal picked up on the military channels around Uranus,’ he said.

Malcador nodded.

‘You knew?’ asked Loken.

‘Of course,’ said Malcador. ‘Although communications being what they are, I only learned of it very recently.’ He paused. ‘As did you.’

Loken nodded once, and then turned towards the door.