“It’s certainly favourable for us,” Liol said. “Even if Quantook-LOU is exaggerating the political instability, everyone here wants to be the one who gets ZTT from us. They’re prepared to go to war in order to give us what we want.”

“Pity we can’t use that to negotiate some kind of peace settlement,” Syrinx said. “I can’t help but feel very uncomfortable about this.”

“We could simply beam the information across Tojolt-HI after we get a copy of the Tyrathca almanac,” Beaulieu suggested. “Even if Quantook-LOU does get us the almanac data, and we give him ZTT technology, the physical aspect of their conflict will probably continue as the consolidation into one dominion moves forward.”

“The irony of all this astounds me,” Ruben said.

“I fail to see how,” Syrinx replied quickly. “You must have a very black sense of humour to find this remotely funny.”

“I never said funny. But don’t you see what this discussion mirrors? This is how the Kiint must have debated our species when we asked them for the solution to the beyond. To the Mosdva, faster-than-light travel is obviously the answer to all their problems; they can have an infinite supply of mass, they can begin fresh colonies, and they can exterminate their old oppressors. To them it is essential we supply it, and they are willing to risk everything to gain what we have. Yet for us, with our complete understanding of ZTT, giving them the technology means releasing a genocidal crusade across this whole section of the galaxy, as well as the possibility of the Confederation going to war against them at some time in the future. Which we would probably lose, given their numbers.”

“If the Tyrathca don’t get us first,” Monica muttered out loud.

“Are you saying we shouldn’t give them ZTT?” Joshua asked.

“Think what will happen if we do.”

“We’ve been through this already. The Mosdva will probably get faster-than-light travel anyway, now they know it’s possible.”

“Just as the Kiint keep saying we have to find our own solution to the souls in the beyond now we know it exists.”

“Jesus! What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing now. We were right before: the question is one of timing. I think we got the answer wrong.”

“Maybe we did,” Syrinx said. “Though I’m not convinced. But this has made our future actions very clear cut. We have got to solve the problem of possession and the beyond first. Only then will we be in a position to deal with the whole Tyrathca/Mosdva issue. And the only way we can do that now is get to the Sleeping God.”

The ELINT satellites continued to show the war across Tojolt-HI’s darkside. Blowouts were occurring with increasing frequency, sending long spumes of vapour and fluid racing out into space, propelling bodies along with them. Mosdva troops in armoured spacesuits continued to scurry across the valleys and ridges of the darkside structure. Almost all train movement had ceased.

The heaviest fighting was conducted around the boundary of Anthi-CL and its neighbouring allies. As well as the blowouts decompressing entire tubes, suited Mosdva shot at each other with beam and projectile weapons as they struggled to penetrate their enemy’s territory and disable critical systems. The satellites were also picking up powerful flashes of energy among the tall thermal dissipation towers as emplaced defensive lasers and masers swept across the ranks of advancing soldiers.

“But no nukes,” Beaulieu said. “At least not yet. I have picked up some small short-range missiles, but they use chemical rockets and warheads. They’re not very successful; the lasers usually pick them off. Hardly surprising, the maximum acceleration so far has been seven gees.”

“I wonder why they use chemical systems?” Monica asked. “One well-placed nuke would take out a whole dominion. They must have the ability to build them. Quantook-LOU said they used to move asteroids around with them, just like we do.”

“We can ask Quantook-LOU if you like,” Joshua said.

“I’d rather not,” Samuel said. “I’d hate to put ideas in his head. In any case, you’re misrepresenting the nature of conflict here. Everything is resource-based, even war. The aim must always be to kill an enemy’s population, but keep their web tubes intact. Explosive decompression will have exactly that result every time, giving the victorious dominion room to expand. A nuclear strike would obliterate a vast amount of the diskcity structure, while the shockwave would weaken even more.”

“Okay, so they use neutron bombs,” Liol said. “Kill the population and leave the structural mass intact.”

“I definitely wouldn’t mention that to Quantook-LOU.”

Etchells expanded his distortion field to scan around as soon as he slipped out of the wormhole terminus seventy-five million kilometres above the surface of Mastrit-PJ’s photosphere. Thermo dump panels slid out to their full length from every life-support capsule and subsidiary system to get rid of the heat. Electronic sensor pods opened their petal segments, extending antenna.

Red light flooded across the utilitarian bridge compartment, cutting through the heavy shielding of the main port. Kiera blinked away the rush of liquid it brought to her eyes as she sat on the acceleration couch facing it. She was content just to admire the genuine panorama, ignoring the various graphic displays that oscillated and scrolled across the consoles as they tabulated the results of the sensor sweeps.

“Nice view, if a little characterless,” she said. A pair of sunglasses appeared in her hands, and she placed them carefully on her nose. “Can you sense anything nearby?”

“Nothing,” Etchells said. “Which means nothing. Searching an entire star system is impossible for a single craft. Assuming they even came here.”

“Nonsense. They’re here. It’s the only place they could be. This damn star has been glaring at us ever since we rounded the nebula. This is where the Tyrathca came from, and it’s where that arkship came from. They have to be here, along with whatever it is they’re looking for.”

“Yes, but where, exactly?”

“That’s your department. Keep your sensors extended. Find them. When you do, I’ll keep my part of the bargain.”

“The odds are not in our favour.”

“The fact that any odds exist at all is in our favour. If there is anything left of the Tyrathca here, it must be on a planet or asteroid. You should start a survey.”

“Thank you. I’d never have thought of that.”

Kiera didn’t even bother sighing a reprimand. He could perceive her mental tone as well as she could feel his. It wasn’t that they’d been getting on each other’s nerves during the voyage, just that they weren’t natural allies. “Can you withstand the temperature?”

“Provisionally, yes,” Etchells said. “Though the particle density will have to be monitored as closely as the thermal input. The technological systems can cope with the heat; as can my hull. I estimate we can endure this environment for three days, then we will have to swallow away and cool off.”

“Okay.” She stood up and stretched elaborately. There had been too many hours spent sitting uselessly on the bridge during the flight. It gave her too much time to brood over what had gone wrong back on Monterey, when what she ought to be doing was planning how to use the weapon which the Confederation was chasing. “I’m going for a shower. Let me know when you find something.”

Beaulieu used a full-spectrum sweep against the sunside surface as Lady Mac decelerated into the coordinate Quantook-LOU had provided. The web tubes and their foil sheets matched the rest of Tojolt-HI’s sunside in composition, but here they had risen out of the median in a small hemispherical mound, which matched the bulge on the darkside.

“The knot is about three kilometres across, nine hundred metres high, and I can’t even begin to tell you what’s inside,” Beaulieu said. “Nearly eighty per cent of the knot and its surrounding webs are dead. Surface glass is cracked, and some structural ridges snapped. But that still leaves enough mass to shield the internal structure from all our sensors.”