Moss bowed slightly, and gestured down towards Da'ud and Victor, who still waited patiently. 'This, my dear proxy, is the method by which I test the results of my continuing research,' he explained, listening carefully to the tick-tack sound of a simultaneous translation into the Bandati dialect. 'As you already know, my creations are much in demand.'

'These are your newest assassins, then?' the proxy asked him directly, clicking breathily into her own interpreter.

Moss knew that every word, every nuance, was being transmitted to the actual Queen of Immortal Light via instantaneous tach-net transmission. As the proxy spoke, the alien entourage moved forward until it encircled the railing above the pit.

'Yes, my dear proxy,' Moss replied, his ghoulishly thin lips drawing back over the brilliantly shining shards. 'I and my creations represent a prime resource: the finest assassins and warriors that ever lived and breathed.'

'Then what's the point of wasting them by setting them to murder each other like this?'

'If my assassins can't defend themselves from each other, then they don't deserve to leave this place alive. They would have proven themselves inferior. My purpose is to refine the flesh into something far superior to the apparent sum of its parts – which is why the very few who get to leave my gardens can demand such high prices from their prospective employers.'

The Queen's proxy shifted to afford herself a better view of the two assassins waiting in the pit below, the movement causing her field platform to tilt slightly. 'I think, Moss, I understand you after a fashion. You are the least humanlike human I have ever encountered. You don't think like the rest of your brethren.'

'I'll guess that you're alluding to my interest in bioengineering.'

'I believe you know the history of our Grand Reformation in some detail?'

'Of course. And your Queen's interest in developing further alterations to your own species reflects my interests. Her approval of my… suggestions on how to re-engineer the weakest elements of your society has led directly to her esteemed patronage these past several years. I have much to thank her for.'

'Be careful, Hugh Moss, that these words remain here, for our people retain a very strong taboo against further racial engineering.'

'Of course. One moment, please.'

Moss turned and glanced down, signalling for the combat to begin. Da'ud let out an ear-rending howl, his bones audibly grinding as they and his muscles shifted into startling new alignments, his diamond teeth glittering brightly in the dim green light. Victor's muscles meanwhile stretched and bulged, sinews rippling under his flesh like steel cables, his jaws opening inhumanly wide.

Moss smiled as his two latest proteges came together. The fight did not last long, because, with his diamond teeth, Da'ud had the clear edge. He had engineered his body for speed and agility rather than brute musculature, and Victor was learning his lesson the hard way. Bright scarlet soon stained the Killing Floor and Victor lay gasping and screaming as Da'ud stared up at his audience, eyes shining with murderous fever, as he waited for Moss's signal to deliver the coup de grace.

Moss nodded, and Da'ud bent down, almost delicately slicing Victor's throat open with glittering razor-sharp incisors. Victor jerked and trembled for several seconds, then lay still for ever. The matting under his body was stained reddish black as Da'ud stood up, his face and shoulders daubed in scarlet. He let out an animal howl that was all the more disturbing for coming from an apparently human throat, before heading out of sight into the darkness of the doorway set into one side of the pit. The Queen's proxy spoke as Moss turned his attention from the spectacle below.

'You should know, Hugh Moss, that my primary reason for being here is because of the derelict. The Queen herself decided not to pursue the question of precisely how you came to know so much about it, in return for your help in gaining entry to its core systems. Yet your efforts so far have proven, frankly, negligible, and your claims of special knowledge didn't prevent valuable Bandati technicians from vanishing utterly while attempting to penetrate its interior. I'm sure you're aware there are means by which your "special knowledge" could be extracted directly from your skull?'

Moss's feral smile was stained yellow. Neither the proxy nor the Queen she served suspected he was entirely aware of what else they had hidden just a few light-years away, in a neighbouring star-system.

'The craft's defences indeed proved extremely formidable,' he replied. 'It seems to be in sporadic communication with someone – or something – elsewhere in this system. I believe it's being actively directed to resist any attempts at boarding it. And yet you've gone out of your way to keep back vital information that might have allowed me to achieve actual results. Perhaps you're in a mood to enlighten me now?'

'Yes,' the proxy replied, somewhat to Moss's surprise. Up till now, the Queen's failure to be in the least forthcoming had proved a constant irritation. 'Two humans arrived with the derelict and were taken to Ironbloom for extensive questioning. One of them proved cooperative, but the other, named Dakota Merrick, is unfortunately far from willing to cooperate. Yet both clearly have some means of controlling the derelict which we've so far been unable to ascertain.'

Dakota Merrick? How remarkable, thought Moss. Fate could be a subtle beast indeed. His hands tightened at his sides in anticipation.

'Then if one of them is cooperative, you already have what you need,' he replied, choosing his words carefully while his thoughts raced.

'Not so.'

Moss regarded the proxy quizzically.

'The other human – a certain Lucas Corso – has informed us of communications protocols designed specifically to communicate with the derelict. He claims to have had some success with these, and he also claims technology contained within the derelict is responsible for the recent, unexplained destruction of Nova Arctis. We have reason to believe he may be telling the truth. Further, he tells us that Merrick is somehow linked to the starship through cerebral implants. We've run some analytical scans on her, although so far we've avoided surgical intervention – at least until we have a clearer idea exactly what it is we're dealing with.'

Moss fought hard to hide his sudden excitement. He was finally being allowed access to the high-level records he needed – and perhaps, if he burrowed a little further, he might find the confirmation for those rumours that had first brought him to the Night's End system.

When Nova Arctis had been destroyed, he'd felt certain Trader in Faecal Matter of Animals had played a part in its death. So perhaps the Shoal's carefully maintained peace was finally unravelling after so very long.

'What else can you tell me?' he asked, straining to keep his tone level.

'Corso is apparently an expert in archaeo-cryptology, with a particular emphasis on Shoal communication languages. We're assuming for the moment Merrick is the one responsible for some of our setbacks. That would certainly support your thesis of outside interference, and would explain some of her behaviour when she believes she's unobserved. We can't rule out the possibility that we won't be able to make any more progress without her cooperation – willing or otherwise.'

Moss opened his lips wide in an apparent snarl, and then started to make the most remarkable barking sound. One of her attendants informed the startled proxy that he was 'laughing'.

'My, she does have you over a barrel, doesn't she?' he said, shaking his head. 'So why come running to me now? You already sabotaged my own efforts by not telling me everything I needed to know. Perhaps if I'd been the one to interrogate the two of them in the first place-'