‘I am taking a ship. If you know of the signal, then you know that the last report from one of your hunter cadres had the ship she was suspected to be aboard heading for Jupiter. That is where I am going. Send a signal – call off the hunters.’

‘You know as well as I that may not be possible.’

‘Then you will have forfeited their lives, too,’ said Loken, and turned for the door.

‘If they have not found her, Loken, there is little hope that you will.’

‘Isn’t that why you chose us, Lord Regent? To do what others could not?’

Malcador did not reply. Loken moved to the door. It opened and Su-Kassen could see the Custodians standing beyond it. Loken paused, his foot across the threshold and turned his stare back on Malcador.

‘If you did know that she was being hunted, would you have countermanded the orders?’

Malcador held Loken’s gaze for a long moment.

‘No,’ he said at last.

Loken gave a single nod, and then was gone. The door shut after him.

Malcador let out a breath and limped around his desk and lowered himself back into his chair.

‘Thank you, admiral,’ he said after a second.

‘For what?’ she asked.

‘If you had not been here, I have a suspicion he would have done what time and the blades of our enemies have so far failed to accomplish.’

‘I do not think so, lord, and if he had tried, I don’t think he would have succeeded.’

Malcador gave a tired smile.

‘Perhaps not…’

He picked up a data-slate from his desk and began to scan it.

‘We could stop him,’ said Su-Kassen after a moment. ‘He needs your authority to move through the Palace. Even if he reaches a ship, it could be halted before it breaks orbit.’

Malcador shook his head.

‘Let him go. Maybe he is right. In such times, perhaps the small acts of nobility matter more, not less.’

‘He did not say that, lord…’

‘Did he not?’ said Malcador, and looked up at her, eyes sharp. ‘Then maybe I am just succumbing to weakness and sentimentality. Does that sound more believable to you, admiral?’

‘No, lord. It does not.’

‘No…’ he said, nodding as though considering the point, before looking back to his work. ‘Perhaps not.’

Battleship Iron Blood, Uranus high orbit