Shigeo Kurumaya was a paler edition of the same figure. He dominated the command ‘fab with the same close-mouthed, hard-eyed intensity, for all that he was seated behind a desk laden with monitoring equipment and surrounded by a standing phalanx of deComs awaiting assignment. He was a command head like Sylvie, grey-and black-streaked hair braided back to reveal the central cord bound up in samurai style a thousand years out of date.

“Special dep, coming through.” Sylvie shouldered a path for us through the other deComs. “Coming through. Special dep. Goddamn it, give me some space here. Special dep.”

They gave ground grudgingly and we got to the front. Kurumaya barely looked up from his conversation with a team of three deComs sleeved in the slim-young-thing look I was starting to identify as wincefish standard.

His face was impassive.

“You’re on no special deployment that I know of, Oshima-san,” he said quietly, and around us the deComs exploded in angry reaction. Kurumaya stared back and forth at them and the noise quieted.

“As I said—”

Sylvie made a placatory gesture. “I know. Shigeo, I know I don’t have it. I want it. I’m volunteering the Slipins for karakuri cleanup.”

That got some surf, but subdued this time. Kurumaya frowned.

“You’re asking for cleanup?”

“I’m asking for a pass. The guys have run up some heavy debt back home, and they want to get earning six hours ago. If that means door-to door, we’ll do it.”

“Get in the motherfucking queue, bitch,” said someone behind us.

Sylvie stiffened slightly, but she didn’t turn round. “I might have guessed you’d see it like that, Anton. Going to volunteer too, are you? Take the gang on house-to-house. Don’t see them thanking you for that, somehow.”

I looked back at the gathered deComs and found Anton, big and blocky looking beneath a command mane dyed a half dozen violently clashing colours. He’d had his eyes lensed so the pupils looked like steel bearings and there were traceries of circuitwork under the skin of his Slavic cheekbones.

He twitched a little, but he made no move towards Sylvie. His metallic dull eyes went to Kurumaya.

“Come on, Shigeo,” Sylvie grinned. “Don’t tell me these people are all queuing up for cleaning duty. How many old hands are going to volunteer for this shit. You’re sending the sprogs out on this one, because nobody else will do it for the money. I’m offering you a gift here, and you know it.”

Kurumaya looked her up and down, then nodded the three wincefish aside. They stepped back with sullen expressions. The holomap winked out. Kurumaya leaned back in his chair and stared at Sylvie.

“Oshima-san, the last time I ramped you ahead of schedule, you neglected your assigned duties and disappeared north. How do I know you won’t do the same thing this time?”