“In a final, desperate attempt to save her, Makita’s followers risked a high-level flight in a stripped-down jetcopter which it was believed the orbital platforms might ignore. However—”

“Yeah, okay, Dig. That’ll do.” I drained my coffee. However, they fucked up. However, the plan was flawed (or possibly a deliberate betrayal). However, a lance of angelfire lashed down from the sky over Alabardos and carved the jetcopter into a flash-burnt mid-air image of itself. However, Nadia Makita floated gently down to the ocean as randomised organic molecules amongst metallic ash. I didn’t need to hear it again. “What about the escape legends?”

“As with all heroic figures, legends about Quellcrist Falconer’s secret escape from real death are rife.” Dig 301’s voice seemed faintly tinged with reproach, but that might have been my groggy imagination. “There are those who believe she never entered the jetcopter in the first place and that later she slipped away from Alabardos disguised among the occupying ground troops. More credible theories derive from the idea that at some point before her death, Falconer’s consciousness was backed up and that she was revived once the post-war hysteria had died down.”

I nodded. “So where would they have stored her?”

“Beliefs vary.” The construct raised one elegant hand and extended slim fingers in sequence. “Some claim she was needlecast offworld, either to a deep-space datavault—”

“Oh yeah, that’s likely.”

“—or to another of the Settled Worlds where she had friends. Adoracion and Nkrumah’s Land are the favourites. Another theory suggests that she was stored after sustaining a combat injury in New Hokkaido from which she was expected to die. That when she recovered, her followers abandoned or forgot the copy—”

“Yep. As you would with your honoured hero-leader’s consciousness.”

Dig 301 frowned at the interruption. “The theory presupposes widespread, chaotic fighting, extensive sudden deaths and a breakdown of overall communication. Such salients did occur at various stages in the New Hokkaido campaigns.”

“Hmm.”

“Millsport is another theorised location. Historians of the period have argued that the Makita family was sufficiently elevated among the middle class to have had access to discreet storage facilities. Many data brokerage firms have successfully fought legal battles to maintain the anonymity of such stacks. The total discreet storage capacity in the Millsport metropolitan zone is estimated at over—”

“So which theory do you believe?”

The construct stopped so abruptly her mouth stayed open. A ripple blinked through the projected presence. Tiny machine-code specs shimmered briefly into existence at her right hip, left breast and across her eyes.

Her voice took the flattened tone of rote.

“I am a Harkany Datasystems service construct, enabled at basic interactional level. I cannot answer that question.”

“No beliefs, huh?”

“I perceive only data and the probability gradients it provides.”

“Sounds good to me. Do the math. What’s the majority probability here?”