The corner of Oishii’s mouth twitched. “Of course. No luxury spared for our fugitive friends. Starboard lower are mostly empty, S37 is all yours. Just push.”

“Time to go,” hissed Lazlo. “One at a time.”

He flitted out of the cover of the container with the same accomplished wincefish lope I’d seen deployed in the Uncleared, was a moment exposed to view along the quay and then swung himself lithely off the edge of the wharf and was gone again. I glanced sideways at Sylvie and nodded.

She went, less smoothly than Lazlo, but still with an echo of the same grace. I thought I heard a faint splash this time. I gave her five seconds and followed, across the blizzard-shrouded open space, crouch to grab the top rung of the inspection ladder and down, hand over rapid hand, to the chemical stink of the estuary below. When I was immersed to the waist I let go and fell back into the water.

Even through the stealth suit and the clothes I wore over it, the shock of entry was savage. The cold stabbed through, clutched at my groin and chest and forced the air out of my lungs through gritted teeth. The gekkogrip cells in my palms flexed their filaments in sympathy. I drew in a fresh breath and cast about in the water for the others.

“Over here.”

Lazlo gestured from a corrugated section of the dock where he and Sylvie were clinging to a corroded cushioning generator. I slipped through the water towards them and let my genentech hands grip me directly to the evercrete. Lazlo breathed in jerkily and spoke through chattering teeth.

“Get ttto the stttern and tttread water between the dock and the hull. You’ll sssee the launchers. Dddddon’t dddrink the water, eh.”

We traded clenched grins and kicked off.

It was hard work, swimming against a body reflex that wanted nothing more than to curl up tight against the cold and shudder. Before we’d gone halfway, Sylvie was falling behind and we had to go back for her. Her breath was coming in harsh bursts, her teeth were gritted and her eyes were starting to roll.

“Cccan’t hold it tttogether,” she muttered as I turned in the water and Lazlo helped haul her onto my chest. “Dddon’ttt tell me we’re whu-whuwwinning, whu-winning fffucking whwhat?”

“Be okay,” I managed through my own clamped jaws. “Hold on. Las, you keep going.”

He nodded convulsively and flailed off. I struck out after him, awkward with the burden on my chest.

“Is there no other fucking choice?” she moaned, barely above a whisper.

Somehow I got us both to the rising bulk of the Daikoku Dawn’s stern where Lazlo was waiting. We paddled round into the crevice of water between the ‘loader’s hull and the dock and I slapped a hand against the evercrete wall to steady myself.