The vague red area on the Dyson segment finally resolved to a single dot. Cormac could only assume the earlier blurring a problem with this new method of scanning, which was now finally solved. A further five dreadnoughts arrived along with ten more attack ships—including some of the new Centurions—to complement the search. The ones that had arrived earlier were moving into the targeted segment, but Cormac now contemplated withdrawing them. If this Legate entity used Jain technology, their chances of capturing it dropped to only a little above zero. The Legate, he suspected, knew how to utilize the same technology considerably better than the Separatist Thellant.

‘Other information has become available,’ announced Jack. ‘I am now reconfiguring the segment scanners.’

Abruptly it seemed to Cormac that he was falling towards the Dyson segment, then into it, through layers of composite, past titanic structural members to which fusion reactors clung like barnacles, and into its vast icy halls. Something shimmered before him and, in flashes of pixellated colour, became visible. Soon he gazed upon the Legate’s ship, as it cruised along a hundred yards above a frigid peneplain. Cross-referencing this new data to the position of the Jain node they were still detecting, they confirmed it to be aboard this same ship.

‘What is this?’

‘The solution to that ship’s chameleonware,’ said a voice beside him.

He turned to Blegg, whose ship had docked with the NEJ only a little while ago. ‘And how did we get hold of that?’

‘Interesting question, to which at present I can provide no answer. However, the possibilities of our capturing this Legate have now increased substantially.’

Cormac considered that statement, and what Thorn had said before departing to join one of the Centurion attack ships conducting the search. Being an agent for some greater enemy, would the Legate destroy itself rather than be captured?

‘Jack, analysis of that ship,’ he enquired.

‘A product of a Jain-based organic technology. It seems to be totally formatted for covert operations: sophisticated chameleonware, damped drive and thrusters. The hull is metallo-organic matrix—not heavily armoured but probably capable of rapid self-repair. To find out anything more about it would require active scan, which could be detected.’

‘That’s all I need to know, thanks.’ Cormac eyed Blegg. ‘If we capture this creature, we’ll need to quarantine it, then somehow deactivate the tech it is using, then’—he shrugged—‘interrogate it?’

Blegg just waited inscrutably silent.

Cormac continued, ‘I think the preferable option would be to find out where it came from, because certainly it is not working alone… Jack, I want weaknesses introduced into the blockade.’ In his gridlink he selected the locations, and gave the precise parameters for each weakness. ‘Out from there we lay EM mines. It won’t go for that one if it has any sense. Now, move the NEJ over here.’

‘What are you planning?’ Horace Blegg asked.

Cormac glanced at him, then said, ‘Jack—kill the hologram.’

The internal scene from the Dyson segment disappeared. Now they were standing on the glassy floor of the bridge.

Cormac considered his reply to Blegg for a long moment, then said, ‘We let the Legate go.’

The Legate still did not understand. Skellor had been a success — a trial run providing information about how the Polity would respond to Jain attack for, after all, Erebus needed to know nothing more about Jain technology itself. Admittedly the situation on Coloron had been hurried, since the Legate had intended to provide Thellant with a Jain node some years hence. And yes, Orlandine now seemed a dismal and worrying failure. But why so endanger a covert mission by sending the Legate here? It made no sense.

As it relayed all the recent updates of events on Coloron from its probes and U-space transmitters, all around that planet, and then fully apprised Erebus of the situation here, the Legate expected to receive in return a self-destruction order. The attack ships searching the segment were all now closing in, and soon there would be little chance of escape. Orlandine, before cutting communication, had kindly informed the entity that she had provided ECS with the solution to this ship’s present chameleonware configuration. No time to change that configuration now. Angry, it felt the urge to betray her presence here, if she had not already done so herself. However, though the Legate considered the experiment with her to be a failure, she might still damage the Polity.

‘Attempt to return,’ came the U-space reply from Erebus—a totally unexpected instruction.

Switching from passive scanning to full power scanning, the Legate began analysing its situation. ECS did not possess enough ships to completely enclose this Dyson segment so there were obvious weaknesses in the blockade. The largest weakness the entity ignored completely, since that seemed an obvious trap. It chose another one and plotted a course accordingly. Maximum acceleration from the segment would put it in range of one of the ECS attack ships for just a few seconds—enough time, however, for it to be destroyed. But few other options remained, so it engaged its ship’s fusion drive.

The spoon-shaped ship turned by a slanted joist, two bright flames ignited to its rear. Accelerating, it left a cloud of icy fog behind it.

‘Would not self-destruction be better?’ the Legate enquired.

‘Is there no possibility of escape?’

‘Escape is possible.’

‘Then you must return to me for reintegration. Resources are not to be wasted. I refuse you permission to destroy yourself under any circumstances. Try your utmost to shake pursuit, but ensure you return here.’

Clear as mud.

The Legate’s ship exceeded 20,000 miles an hour and continued accelerating. The entity itself estimated that seven seconds would take it far enough from the Dyson segment for it to be able to engage U-space drive. If it survived those seven seconds it would be clear. There might be pursuit but, once in U-space it could reconfigure its chameleonware, then after a few more such jumps no ECS ship would have a chance of following. Ahead, a line of glowing orange revealed the segment’s edge. EM shells began to detonate all around, interfering with the ship’s systems. Something blew right behind the Legate, filling the few gaps in the interior with metallic smoke; diagnostics went haywire and some of the ship’s computing ability crashed. However, the engines continued working uninterrupted, and the ship possessed sufficient redundancy to cover this. The orange line thickened; brighter towards the bottom and bluish above, with the occasional flecks of stars—or ships—becoming visible. Then, within a moment, the little ship hurtled out into the open.