‘I have no ide—’Captain Philious paused, terribly cautious of trickery. ‘What do you mean, was in there?’

‘Exactly that,’ Slvasta said.

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Andricea.’

The woman stepped forwards. ‘One of our associates removed five large objects from this chamber – which we assume is part of Captain Cornelius’s ship. There are plenty of other weird artefacts down here, none of which could have been made on this world.’

Philious shook his head. ‘These are all just leftovers from the ship, that’s all. Nothing works. They haven’t worked for millennia.’

‘You seemed concerned, just now, that something had been taken,’ Andricea said. ‘We don’t know what those things were, but they’re clearly valuable to someone. The militia people our associate employed have had something done to their minds, like hypnosis but so much stronger. It took a great deal of effort to get them to tell me that the objects had been taken, but I did break through their conditioning eventually. So tell me, Captain, how long do you think you can hold out against me?’

Philious glanced nervously at the armoury again. ‘I don’t believe you. This is some kind of trick. Nobody . . .’ He licked his top lip, unsurprised to taste beads of sweat.

‘Nobody what?’ Slvasta asked coolly.

‘Nothing works. I don’t lie.’

‘Then it doesn’t matter if you tell us what was in there, does it?’

‘This, none of this can help your doomed revolution. You will lose. The cities and counties will march into Varlan and send you straight to Uracus for your crimes.’

‘What was in there?’ Slvasta bellowed. His hand gripped a pistol tight, not quite waving it towards Philious.

‘Nothing was taken. I know this because you can’t get inside. The entrance doesn’t work any more; it hasn’t for over two thousand years.’

Slvasta grinned. It disturbed Philious badly.

‘Oh, really? Come here.’ His teekay shoved at Philious, urging him forwards.

Philious didn’t resist. Then he got closer to the armoury – and froze. A wide circle close to the base had opened – the place his father had told him was the access hatch, made from a metal that Commonwealth ingenuity could make flow like water. ‘Oh, Uracus,’ he whispered. And the metal had indeed flowed once more; he could see it now as a thick rim around the hole. ‘No, no, no.’ He hurried forwards, and peered up into the absolute darkness of the interior with trepidation. Many years ago, when he was being prepared for the Captaincy – being tutored in their true heritage, in the old sciences, on the nature of the Void and how they must never drop their guard against the Fallers – his father had brought him to stand under the ship’s armoury, where one of the small broken conduit tubes led up inside it. He had sent his ex-sight through the tiny gap, examining the strange dead war machines entombed within, frightened and impressed by the things his father told him about them.

Now his ex-sight ranged freely inside the armoury, perceiving the empty loading cradles. His legs trembled as he backed away, then he spun round and fixed Slvasta with a furious glare. ‘They’re gone!’

‘No crud! Now tell me exactly what they are.’

‘Quantumbusters,’ Philious whispered in dread. ‘There were five quantumbusters in there.’

The burst of emotion that came pouring through Slvasta’s tenuous shell was a combination of anger and incomprehension. ‘What the crud are quantumbusters?’

‘The greatest weapon our ancestors ever created. They are so powerful they can destroy an entire sun and all its planets. They don’t work in the Void. None of the old technology works any more.’ Philious stared at the access hatch – impossibly open. ‘Until today.’

*

Twenty armed men that Tovakar and Yannrith trusted implicitly piled into five cabs. Slvasta rode in the second cab, along with Yannrith and Captain Philious. Andricea herself was driving the lead cab, teekay and a whip sending the horse racing down Walton Boulevard, then along the quickest route to the quayside.

‘I’ve ’pathed our comrades on a wharf,’ Yannrith said. ‘They’re holding a steam ferry for us.’

‘Let us hope it has a happier journey across than the Lanuux and the Alfreed,’ Captain Philious said snidely.

‘We didn’t do that,’ Slvasta snapped back.

‘Really?’

‘No.’

‘Then who? Your mysterious associate?’

‘I don’t know.’ Slvasta’s headache was making him sweat now. It was a constant battle to keep his eyes open, the fatigue which gripped him was so strong. Thinking was difficult. But he had to know, to work this out. Could Coulan be some kind of counterrevolutionary? But if so, why had Trevene not arrested them all? And Javier, why was he suddenly pro-mod? Bethaneve – that was the one that really hurt. How was she connected to Nigel?

What am I missing?

‘Did you know about us?’ he asked the Captain.

‘Trevene knew you were behind the mod-killing spree; that was obvious right from the start.’

‘Why didn’t you stop us?’

‘Because there were just four of you – four that mattered, anyway. You were drawing all the hotheads and radicals together; you had some kind of communication arrangement with people from the Shanties and other undesirables. We couldn’t break your system of contact, it was so random, but all the troublemakers were doing what you told them. It was impressive politics. Useful.’

‘To you? How?’

‘They do what you say. You do what we want. That’s why we offered you Langley. And you took it.’

‘Like all the greedy bastards before me.’

‘Yes. We underestimated your fanaticism, that’s all.’

‘All? It’s cost you everything.’

‘You’re gloating? After what’s happened today? Be careful of your arrogance, Slvasta, or it will be your downfall. I should know.’

‘So you had files on us?’

‘Yes.’

‘Tell me about Coulan.’

‘Some kind of student, a history graduate, I think, who drifted into the radical scene. We never could find out where he came from.’

‘Kassell, he came from Kassell. He’s a junior son who came to Varlan’s university to learn agricultural management so he could help run the family estate. While he was there he came to see the oppression of your regime.’

‘No, you’re wrong – or more likely lied to. There is no record of him in Kassell. Trevene checked.’

‘He has to have come from somewhere!’

‘Yes, but where is starting to concern me very badly – though he behaved perfectly honourably with me and my family, thank Giu. He’s the associate who opened the armoury, isn’t he?’

Slvasta nodded.

‘I can’t do that. The Captains haven’t had a proper electrical supply for the last two thousand years. The Void is hostile to it. I know the theory; I even made a lead acid battery when I was learning about it, that’s such a basic electrical power source even the Void doesn’t spoil it. Slvasta, I’ve seen a wire filament glow red from its power; it was almost as bright as a candle flame. It was impressive. But this – his knowledge and ability – is a whole new level. We saw something strange and new in the Faller from Eynsham Square. It had threads in its brain, threads that could control it like Uracus’s own puppet. That kind of machinery doesn’t belong in the Void.’

‘Wait. Someone controlled the Eynsham Square Faller?’

‘Yes, and how that worked to your advantage, eh? Hero. I’m assuming Coulan is using a similar process to control his militia. So now I am almost scared to wonder where he came from. Do you believe he is working alone, or is he part of a bigger faction inside your precious revolution?’

‘He’s allied with Nigel, somehow.’ Slvasta growled the name through a dry throat.

‘Who?’

‘One of our supporters.’ Slvasta remembered his visit to Blair Farm, the compound with all its new barns – efficient, productive, humming with activity; the hundreds of mods scurrying about, which had made his blood run cold. ‘He knows a lot about machines. And politics. But he’s no Faller; I have seen his blood with my own eyes. It’s red.’