“It’s an A label. How about that. Been a long time since we saw an Artefact coming out of the cooler. Any idea what we got here?”

The man sniffed, pulling off his thick white gloves. “Nah. Better keep a good watch on this one, though. Last time we did an A label, it was one of them four-wing dragon-fliers. We had a good laugh with that one — it was all over the lab, and nearly had a leg off Jesco Siemens before we could tie it down. Old Jesco, he couldn’t see the joke at all.”

The top and side were off the long box, and the pumps and wipers were slowly removing thick layers of semi-solid jelly, warming it as they worked. A shape began to emerge. The two stared at it in fascination.

“Uurgh.” The man was leaning close. “I don’t like the look of that. It’s hideous. See them legs.”

They were staring at a pair of long, bony feet, still with thick black gunk between the knobbly toes. As they watched the rest of the figure slowly came into view. It was a male, facedown; naked, tall, angular, hollow-chested, and skinny.

“How’d you like to find him under your bed, eh?” The fat woman laughed. “You sure we got the right one? Don’t look like an Artefact.”

“Think so.” The man was peering at the identification he was holding, and rubbing his cold nose with a stubby finger.

“Well, I can’t see nobody in their right mind making an Artefact that looks like that — never mind waking him up.” She took a step closer and stared at the naked body on the bench. “If you asked me, I’d say this is one of the bloody inbred royals, something the family stuck down here and never wanted to see any more. I think we ought to check again.”

“I’m doing it. This writing is terrible.”

“And check that the payment was made, too. It’s getting a bit late to stick him back. He’ll be spoiled.”

The man was frowning over the label. “It’s this one, all right.” He scratched his head as the body was rotated to face upwards. “Lordy. You’re right, he’s no beauty. I liked him better the other way up. But here’s the chit. Paid in full, automatic bank draft from somebody’s final estate. Same ID marking on the container. Label, A type, Artefact by — what’s it say? — Fu — jit — su. Let’s get on with it before we freeze. If anything’s wrong, it’s nothing to do with us.”

The protective layers of jelly were almost gone. The catheters were sliding in as the last scraping was removed, and the deep-heat batteries increased in intensity. The table tilted, raising the body to a vertical position and holding it. There was a horrible spluttering cough, and a choking grunt as lungs filled with thin oil labored to expel it. With another cough a spray of brown liquid went out onto the floor. Suddenly the figure sneezed and shook its head from side to side.

“Take it easy, now.” The man stepped forward, but he was too late. Clawlike hands were scooping out the thick jelly that still filled the eye cavities. The head was massive, with a bald, domed skull. A full beard grew beneath the thin mouth, and was shadowed above by a prominent red beak of a nose.

The mouth opened, to reveal crooked teeth. “Hh-hmmm. Ah. Thank you.”

There was another violent cough. The tall figure pulled out catheters, stood up straight, and took a step away from the table. It was still naked, and splotched with thick black goo. In spite of its bizarre appearance it had a strange dignity.

“Thank you,” it said again. It looked at the two workers and took in a long, lung-expanding breath. “I appreciate your services. But now I must go. Time is short, and I have important work to do.”

It jerked into motion and headed for the door of the chamber. The man and woman looked at each other, then started after it.

“You can’t go yet,” cried the woman. “You forgot your bath — you have to have a bath, it’s the rules.”

“And your clothes!” added the man. “You can’t go out there bare-bum naked. Don’t worry about the price of ’em, everything’s already paid for.”

But the tall Artefact was not listening. It was already out of the door, striding purposefully towards the elevators that led to the Link entry point.

Chan had been on Ceres before, briefly, in transit from Earth to Horus. At that time, Kubo Flammarion had taken him to his office, shown him the big displays, and let him play with the buttons and switches. Chan had skipped for five minutes around the planets and moons known to the Stellar Group; yawned; and asked for a cold drink.

Now he was there again, in front of the same console. Tatty Snipes sat on one side of him. Kubo Flammarion was on the other, scratching his head in amazement. Instead of being bored by the controls, or idly playing with them, Chan was studying the board and asking questions. Loads of them.

“What about this one?” He had flicked fast through a series of images and now paused at one of them. It was a low-orbit satellite view of a dreary gray landscape, and it showed a lot more detail than most. “It’s been flagged.”

Flammarion nodded. “Certainly has. That’s Barchan. You’ll need to know all about it, once you pass the entrance examination. The first training courses with all team members present are held there.

“Looks — what is the right word to use? — parched?’

“Sure is. Dry as a bone, almost all of it. It’s a desert world in the Eta Cass system — that’s where the Pipe-Rillas come from. Barchan is two worlds sunward of S’kat’lan, their home planet.”

“Can I live there without a suit? Is it — what is the word for that?”

“Habitable. Yes, you’ll be able to breathe the air — just — but it’s so hot you’ll wear a suit almost all the time. Want to take a look at it from ground level?”

Chan shook his head. “Later.” His eyes were already fixed on another image and his fingers danced across the board.

Tatty caught Flammarion’s eye. Get a load of that.

When Chan had no more than an infant’s mentality, there had been nothing wrong with his coordination. Now he was operating the control board faster than Flammarion.

The older man scowled and shook his head. It didn’t fool Tatty. Kubo Flammarion had no children, and never expected to. He could not conceal his pleasure and parental approval when Chan did something new and impressive.

Here’s another one that’s been flagged,” said Chan. “Where is it?”

The screen showed a verdant world, one where even the oceans were covered with a dense carpet of vegetation.

“That’s Dembricot, in the Tinker system.” Flammarion moved closer. “Move over a bit, and I’ll show you why the training supervisors flagged it for you.” He leaned across, linked in to a surface camera, and zoomed across to take a close-up view of a building nestled among tall, spiky ferns. “See that? Main training center for Team Alpha, before they headed out.”

“Team Alpha? Did you tell me about that?” Chan was worried.

Flammarion glanced questioningly at Tatty.

“Don’t worry, Chan, you’re not forgetting things,” she said. “I never mentioned it. My fault — but there s been so much to pack in.”

“Team Alpha is the first Pursuit Team to complete training,” said Flammarion. “Leah Rainbow is part of it, along with three aliens.”

“What does the name mean?”

“Nothing much.” Flammarion shrugged. “Just that it’s the first team to go out. Leah hates the name, says she’s going to change it soon as she gets the chance.”

“So Leah was right there, in that building.” Chan eyed it hungrily. “I wish she was there still, so we could use your — comm-un-i-cator? — and I could talk with her.”

“Sorry. They left Dembricot days ago. You see, Chan, they’re all done with their training. Leah came through it in fine shape, just the way you will when your time comes. Now it’s the real thing. The team’s in high orbit around a planet called Travancore. The Morgan Construct is supposed to be hiding away there, so at the moment they re not allowed closer than a million kilometers. You know, maybe I can link us to their ship — at the very least I should be able to get the one-way visuals they’re sending back to base.”