"I was only going to ask-"

"… what the hell's going on?" Horza completed the old man's sentence for him as he lifted the biggest neural stun pistol he could see, slammed the armoury doors shut and paced quickly down the corridor, through the mess room where Dorolow was sitting asleep in a chair, and into the corridor through the accommodation section. He switched the gun on, turned its power control to maximum, then held it behind his back.

The drone appeared first, flying up the steps and darting along the corridor at eye level. "Captain! I really must prot-"

Horza kicked a door open, caught the bevelled front of the drone as it came towards him and threw the machine into the cabin. He slammed the door shut. Voices were coming up the steps from the hangar. He held onto the handle of the cabin door. It was pulled hard, then thumped. "This is outrageous!" a distant, tinny voice wailed.

"Kraiklyn," Yalson said as her head appeared at the top of the steps. Horza smiled, readying the gun he held behind his back. The door resounded again, shaking his hand.

"Let me out!"

"Kraiklyn, what is going on?" Yalson said, coming along the corridor. Balveda was almost up the stairs, carrying a large kitbag over her shoulder.

"I'm going to lose my temper!" The door shook again.

A whine, high and urgent, came from behind Yalson, from Balveda's kitbag; then a static-like crackle. Yalson didn't hear the high-pitched whine — which was an alarm. Horza, though, was distantly aware of Dorolow stirring somewhere behind him in the mess room. At the burst of static, which was a highly compressed message or signal of some sort, Yalson started to turn back to Balveda. At the same moment Horza leapt forward, taking his hand off the cabin door handle and bringing the heavy stun gun round to bear on Balveda. The Culture woman was already dropping the kitbag, one hand flashing — so fast even Horza could hardly follow the movement down to her side. Horza threw himself into the space between Yalson and the corridor bulkhead, knocking the woman mercenary to one side. At the same time, with the big stun gun pointing straight at Balveda's face, he pulled the trigger. The weapon hummed in his hand as he continued forward, dropping. He tried to keep the gun pointing at Balveda's head all the way down. He hit the deck just before the sagging Culture agent did.

Yalson was still staggering back after being thumped against the far bulkhead. Horza lay on the deck watching Balveda's feet and legs for a second, then he quickly scrambled up, saw Balveda move groggily, her red-haired head scraping on the deck surface, her dark eyes opening briefly. He pulled the stun-gun trigger again, keeping it depressed and pointing the gun at the woman's head. She shook spastically for a second, saliva drooling from one corner of her mouth, then went limp. The red bandanna rolled off her head.

"Are you crazy?" Yalson screamed. Horza turned to her.

"Her name isn't Gravant; it's Perosteck Balveda, and she's an agent in the Culture's Special Circumstances section. That's their euphemism for Military Intelligence, in case you didn't know," he said. Yalson was backed up almost to the mess-room entrance, her eyes full of fear, her hands clutching at the surface of the bulkhead on either side of her. Horza went up to her. She shrank from him, and he sensed her getting ready to strike out. He stopped short of her, turned the stun gun round and handed it to her, grip first. "If you don't believe me we'll probably all end up dead," he said, edging the gun forward towards her hands. She took it eventually. "I'm serious," he told her. "Search her for weapons. Then get her into the mess and strap her into a seat. Tie her hands down, tight. And her legs. Then strap in yourself. We've leaving; I'll explain later." He started to go past her, then he turned and looked into her eyes.

"Oh, and keep stunning her every now and again, on maximum power. Special Circumstancers are very tough." He turned and went towards the mess room. He heard the stun gun click.

"Kraiklyn," Yalson said.

He stopped and turned round again. She was pointing the gun straight at him, holding it in both hands and level with his eyes. Horza sighed and shook his head.

"Don't," he said.

"What about Horza?"

"He's safe. I swear it. But he'll be dead if we don't get out of here now. And if she wakes up." He nodded past Yalson at the long, inert form of Balveda. He turned again, then walked into the mess, the back of his head and the nape of his neck tingling with anticipation.

Nothing happened. Dorolow looked up from the table and said, "What was that noise?" as Horza went past.

"What noise?" Horza said as he went through to the bridge.

Yalson watched Kraiklyn's back as he walked through the mess room. He said something to Dorolow, then he was through to the bridge. She let the stun gun down slowly; it hung in one hand. She looked at the gun thoughtfully and said to herself, quietly, "Yalson, my girl, there are times when I think you're a little too loyal." She raised the gun again as the cabin door opened just a crack and a small voice said, "Is it safe out there yet?"

Yalson grimaced, pushed the door open and looked at the drone, which was retreating further into the cabin. She nodded her head to the side and said, "Get out here and give me a hand with this bod, you liverless piece of clockwork."

"Wake up!" Horza kicked Wubslin's leg as he swung back into his chair. Aviger was sitting in the third seat in the flight deck, looking anxiously at the screens and controls. Wubslin jumped, then looked round with bleary eyes.

"Eh?" he said, then: "I was just resting my eyes."

Horza pulled out the CAT's manual controls from their recess in the edge of the console. Aviger looked at them with apprehension.

"Just how hard did you knock your head?" he said to Horza.

Horza smiled coldly at him. He scanned the screens as fast as he could and threw the safety switches on the ship's fusion motors. He tried traffic control once more. The Smallbay was still dark. The outside pressure gauge registered zero. Wubslin was talking to himself as he checked over the craft's monitoring systems.

"Aviger," Horza said, not looking at the older man, "I think you'd better strap in."

"What for?" Aviger asked quietly, measuredly. "We can't go anywhere.. We can't move. We're stuck here until a tug arrives to take us out, aren't we?"

"Of course we are," Horza said, adjusting the readying controls of the fusion motors and putting the ship leg controls on automatic. He turned and looked at Aviger. "Tell you what; why don't you go and get that new recruit's kitbag? Take it down to the hangar and shove it into a vactube."

"What?" Aviger said, his already creased face becoming more lined as he frowned. "I thought she was leaving."

"She was, but whoever is trying to keep us in here started evacuating the air from the Smallbay before she could get off. Now I want you to take her kitbag and all the other gear she may have left lying around and stow it in a vactube, all right?"

Aviger got up from the seat slowly, looking at Horza with a tense, worried expression on his face. "All right." He started to leave the bridge, then hesitated, looking back at Horza. "Kraiklyn, why am I putting her kitbag in the vactube?"

"Because there's almost certainly a very powerful bomb in it; that's why. Now get down there and do it.

Aviger nodded and left, looking even less happy. Horza turned back to the controls. They were almost ready. Wubslin was still talking to himself and hadn't strapped in properly, but he seemed to be doing his part competently enough, despite frequent belches and pauses to scratch his chest and head. Horza knew he was putting the next bit off, but it had to be done. He pressed the ident button.