After that, it was just a matter of waiting.

'Trader in Faecal Matter of Animals,' said the Commander once he arrived within the cathedral chamber, 'I can't say it's a pleasure. Why did you pick this… place for our meeting?'

'It used to be a Meridian outpost, Commander,' he explained. 'They disappeared off the galactic stage a long time ago, a fact that tends to curb occasional bouts of hubris on my own part.'

'I see,' the other Shoal-member replied, clearly unimpressed. 'I presume you heard about General Desire?'

Desire-for-Violent-Rendering had been Trader's superior commanding officer. 'Executed for crimes against the Hegemony,' Trader replied, noting how the Commander's manipulators were tipped with razor-sharp steel. 'Or so I heard.'

'Oh, it's quite true. And the same would happen to me if anyone got even an inkling I was here with you. Now why don't you say whatever it is you have to say, so I can get out of this hell-hole?'

All around the chamber, a thousand tiny but lethal devices armed themselves. 'I take that to mean you've considered my terms?'

Commander-of-Shoals twisted his manipulators in anger. 'Have you no conception of what's happened in the last few days? The home world is destroyed, and the Hegemony is on the verge of being torn apart. Do you really think I have any interest in playing these ridiculous games of yours?'

Trader fanned the waters around him with his fins. 'I don't understand.'

'It was hit by asteroids converted for short-range superluminal jumps and accelerated to relativistic speeds. Totally wiped out, Trader.'

'I… I never heard of this,' Trader stammered. It had been some time since he'd last had an opportunity to check on the progress of the war. 'The Emissaries?'

'On the contrary, recidivists who blamed the Deep Dreamers for the war, and didn't have too much of a moral problem with wiping out a few hundred million of our fellow Shoal-members while they were about it. You can imagine the chaos.'

Trader suddenly remembered General Desire-for-Violent-Rendering telling him the Dreamers had predicted their own demise. 'I can, yes. I am… sorry to hear of this.'

'Sorry!' Commander-of-Shoals barked. 'A plague of fire spreading across the face of the galaxy because you gambled on the Emissaries having no nova-class weaponry, and you're sorry. I wonder how sorry you'll feel once the Hegemony's interrogators get hold of you?'

'I understand that Desire was a sacrifice to public opinion, but I must remind you that you were the one who gave Desire his orders, as he gave me mine. I could easily have implicated you.' Not to mention dozens of key members of the Hegemony's highest ruling councils.

The Commander's manipulators rippled in grudging agreement. 'Yes, yes, Trader. I know this. And I'm grateful that you didn't. But concerning these terms of yours… the Mos Hadroch is an old fish's tale, a daydream, nothing more.'

'It was enough to bring the Magi across the void to our galaxy. I headed an expedition to the Maker swarm which found evidence to suggest it was much more than a story.'

Commander-of-Shoals's steel-tipped manipulators clicked as their razor edges clashed with each other. 'An expedition, I recall, that ended in ignominy and failure. There's a limit to how much you can demand of me in return for your silence, Trader. I came here only because your record of past service earns you a final audience. The Emissaries are making tremendous gains, while we are pushed back and back. But if all you have for me are pipe dreams of yore, then I suggest you leave now in peace for ever and make yourself a new life somewhere very, very far away.'

'This may interest you, then,' Trader replied, making a gesture.

A tiny sparkling glyph representing a data package appeared, hovering in the water between them. Commander-of-Shoals regarded it warily, then accepted the package with visible ill grace.

Trader waited while his superior scanned the package's contents. 'This is the first I've heard of this!' Commander-of-Shoals exclaimed after some moments. 'There was a second expedition?'

'One I myself led a few centuries after my encounter with the Maker. Except this time I travelled to the Greater Magellanic Cloud itself

'Why was I never made aware of this?'

Trader twisted his manipulators in the Shoal equivalent of a laugh. 'With all respect, Commander, you are a soldier, good for taking and giving orders. There was no need for you to know. We spent the better part of fourteen centuries roaming what had once been the most densely populated regions of the Cloud.'

'Do not keep me waiting, Trader. What did you find?'

'I found the proof that the Mos Hadroch exists, or did once exist, but found no trace or clue to its whereabouts – that is, until recently. The Maker is still searching for it.'

He declined to mention that this new knowledge originated in intercepted transmissions originating from Ocean's Deep.

'Then it is in our galaxy? And it's real?' Commander-of-Shoals swam closer. 'What exactly can it do?'

'You will find the details in the data package I just gave you.'

Commander of Shoals tapped two steel-tipped manipulators together and a small ball of light appeared between them. Shoal glyphs flickered rapidly before finally freezing in place. The Commander read what was there, before dismissing the projection after several moments.

'Remarkable,' said Commander-of-Shoals, the twist of his manipulators indicating he was impressed. 'A solution of quite stunning elegance.'

'Based on my own findings, the Mos Hadroch takes advantage of certain flaws in the design of the caches seeded by the Maker swarm. If anything, the existence of such flaws tells us that whatever beings created the swarm were rather less godlike than the Magi believed them to be.'

'This is a tremendous achievement, Trader. Yet I can't help feeling that recent events have failed to bring you the humility you claim to value.'

'I'm not interested in your petty character judgements,' Trader snapped. 'Do you accept my terms? I will find the Mos Hadroch, rid us of the Emissaries, and bring this war to an end.'

'Have you considered that it might be easier for me to simply hand you over to my interrogators and have them extract the information from you?'

'I have considered it, Commander, and you do indeed have that option, if you wish to see the finer details of your own illegal subterfuge become immediate public knowledge throughout the length and breadth of the Hegemony. If I were not to have taken such precautions, I would not deserve the reputation I have.'

'Then on behalf of the Hegemony, I see that I have no choice but to accept your terms.'

'And…?'

Commander-of-Shoals's manipulators signalled defeat. 'And if you succeed, we will reinstate you to your former position within the Hegemony, with full resumption of special rights and privileges. But let me be clear that there are many within the upper ranks of the Hegemony who would be more than happy to see you die in this attempt.'

'Then I shall take added pleasure in my triumphant return. Now, there were certain other matters contained within my terms…'

'Ah, yes, a fleet of your own, and the capture of the monster you created out of Learner-of-Secrets. Neither, I fear, will be possible.'

'These are fundamental requirements,' Trader responded angrily. 'That… creature has chased me across the entire face of this galaxy. Wherever I flee, he manages to find me. And without a fleet of my own, my chances of success are severely reduced. Surely you can-?'

'No, Trader, I cannot,' Commander-of-Shoals replied coolly. 'I will, however, supply you with his current location. That may give you some small advantage, whether you choose to confront or escape him. He calls himself by a human name these days, doesn't he? Hugh Moss?'