“How is he?” Lucya asked as soon as he stepped through the door.

“Unconscious. He lost a lot of blood. Vardy removed the bullet. He was lucky, it didn’t hit anything too important, but he had to try and repair a blood vessel.”

“Try?”

“Doesn’t have quite the right equipment, or something, I don’t know. He says it’s still touch and go. There was no point me hanging round there any longer. He could be out of it for days.”

The committee members were spread out around the room. Martin was examining a console, keeping out of everyone’s way. Amanda and Ella were seated at the map table with Grau. Max and Silvia were at the front windows, watching the Lance. Jake joined them.

“It’s a damned game of cat and mouse she’s playing with us,” Max said. He was studying the research ship through a powerful pair of binoculars. Jake wondered where he’d got them; they looked much better than his own.

“Are we the cat, or the mouse?”

“Judging by the last encounter? Squeak squeak. They’re nimble, agile. They can run rings around us.”

“We’re running rings around each other,” Lucya said, arriving at Jake’s side. “They’re trying to circle us, and we’re trying to circle them. We’re keeping an even distance. We’re out of the range of their weapons at least.”

“Any sign of life? I mean, has anyone actually seen anyone on board?”

“Nope.”

“Come on, let’s sit down.” Jake led the others to the table. He looked around at the stony-faced committee members.

Nobody seemed to know where to begin. Grau Lister scratched his ear.

“Has anyone asked the obvious question?” Jake raised an eyebrow. “Why is a Norwegian research vessel firing at us?”

“Who cares why?” Max slapped a huge hand on the table. “The fact is, they did. And for that, I say we blow them out of the water. That fancy submarine must have some torpedoes. Blow the suckers sky high, they deserve it. Shooting at innocent civilians.”

“Max, please,” Jake said. “Firstly, they didn’t shoot at civilians. Apart from myself, those men were in uniform. Secondly, nobody is torpedoing anyone. And third, if we knew why they were shooting at us, we might be able to negotiate with them.”

“Negotiate?” Martin stopped staring at his knees and looked up. “Screw that. We leave them to it. Get out of here. Go to Crozon. They’ve led us away from our original objective. We’re not sticking around to negotiate with some reprobate Vikings.”

“I bet that was what they wanted!” Ella predictably sided with Martin. “They don’t want us to go to Crozon, so they lured us out here!”

“I think we can dispense with the conspiracy theories,” Jake said calmly. “The Spirit of Arcadia may be an unarmed civilian ship—”

“Lightly armed,” Max corrected. “Still got some of the anti-piracy weapons.”

“We may be a civilian ship, but it’s going to take more than the crew of a tiny polar research boat to overpower us. It seems to me more likely that their actions were meant to put an end to our pursuit. They probably just don’t want us following them.”

“Right!” Martin agreed. “So we stop following them, and get our arses back to where we should be, which is checking out submarine bases for supplies.”

Silvia spoke next. “I don’t think we should go. We can help them. Twenty people, on that little boat, how much food have they got? They need us.”

Martin, Ella, and Max all countered the point with a barrage of expletives.

Jake banged a fist on the table, bringing them back to order. “I agree with Silvia that we probably shouldn’t give up on them, not yet. We’ve come all this way to make contact. They’re the first people we’ve seen since the asteroid. There could be plenty of reasons they shot at us. Plenty of innocent reasons. I want to find out more before we turn our backs on them. What do we know so far?”

“That they’re mad?” Martin offered.

Jake ignored him.

“Those rafts you found? Pretty sure they came from the Lance,” Max said. “Hard to tell for sure, but I’d say she’s missing a few.”

Jake’s mind flashed back to the words Vicky Mitchell had spoken. “Traitor scum.” What did that even mean? Had they killed members of their own crew? And why was the writing Korean? It made no sense, but he wasn’t ready to share the information with the others. He knew what they would say: get away from there, fast. “Amanda, you’re being very quiet. What do you think?”

Everyone turned to look at the woman seated at the end of the table. She hadn’t said a word since Jake had arrived on the bridge.

“I think…” she began. She looked at every person in turn, then started again. “I think we should have a team from the submarine mount an operation, at night, to take the Lance. Capture the crew. Take them prisoner.”

There was a collective intake of breath, then everyone tried to talk at once. It was down to Jake to bring order, again banging his fist on the table. “Quiet!” The voices died down, reducing to a murmur. “Thank you. You can respond, one at a time. Lucya?”

“Oh for fu—” Martin began, but Lucya shot him a look that silenced him.

“I don’t think we have that right,” Lucya said.

Jake nodded at Grau.

“I have to say, this is a very audacious idea. I agree with Miss Levin. We are not a military ship—”

“The Ambush is,” Amanda interjected.

“Yes, the Ambush is. I cannot see anything that justifies a military response.”

Jake nodded at Martin, working his way around the table.

“For once, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, I agree with Amanda. If we’re not leaving, then we should stay and do the job properly. That ship would be a very useful asset. None of your half-hearted fence-sitting, Jake. Either we fuck off out of here, or we stay and take that boat.”

“Max?”

“I still say we blow the bastards up.”

“Right. Ella?”

“Leave ’em. They’re trying to keep us from Crozon. There’s gotta be something there. We could be missing out.”

“Silvia?”

“I see where Amanda’s coming from. Grau’s right though. On what authority can we mount such an operation? If a bigger ship comes along, do they have the right to attack us, take us prisoner?”

“I’d like to see them try,” Max grunted.

“I think we should leave. They obviously don’t want our help,” she continued, ignoring him. “However, before we go, I wonder… Is there any way we could tag them with a radio beacon? You know how they tag whales and other endangered species? Is that something we could do? Perhaps Lucya could work her magic like she did with the buoy that saved your life? That way, we’d have advance warning if they came after us. And if, later, we decided for whatever reason that we wanted to find them again, we would have the means by which to do so.”

“You know what, Silvia? That’s the most sensible idea I’ve heard yet,” Jake said. “Look, I’m not ruling out any other ideas, not even yours, Max. Right now though? Silvia’s right. If we can attach a transmitter to the Lance, we can go to Crozon without fear of losing them. If anyone can convince the whole committee, unanimously, that we should…attack,” he said the word as though it left a bad taste in his mouth, “later on, then we will be able to find them and do that.”

“I agree,” Grau said. “Not about attacking. Tagging the boat is a good compromise.”

“Me too.” Lucya raised her hand.

“What a surprise. Yeah, okay, whatever,” Martin mumbled.

Jake looked at the others in turn, and to his great relief, everyone agreed that Silvia’s idea represented the best compromise.

• • •

For once, Grace hadn’t complained about being sent back to deck nine to patrol. Everyone on the security team was patrolling; she wasn’t missing out on something more interesting. The encounter with the other ship had given new meaning to her peace-keeping role, too. She expected trouble, and Grace liked trouble.