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One of those in the cell block was the food critic. His subversive criticism of the Committee had resulted in a two-day period of adjustment after his ‘interview’. With the right treatment he might be able to recommence his job in Atmosphere Management in a month or so, when he regained control of his bowels and stopped dribbling.

‘Very well,’ began Langstrom. ‘I’ve never really agreed—’

‘I’m not interested in your opinion, Langstrom. I will judge you later by your actions.’ Langstrom kept silent as Saul continued, ‘Your next task will be to round up the entire executive staff of the Political Office, plus certain other unpleasant individuals who work under them – I’ve already forwarded a list to your computer.’

It hadn’t been difficult to draw up this list. The Executive contained few redeemable souls at the top, and those in the lower ranks who seemed destined for promotion all demonstrated the kind of inherent nastiness and lack of empathy required for future exalted positions. Saul quickly tired of studying the records of these people, and it had been simplicity itself to create a search engine fit for the exercise.

‘You’ll then take them all to Arcoplex One,’ he finished, ‘where they will join Chairman Messina and his surviving delegates.’

At that, many in the room exclaimed in surprise, and he turned towards them.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘Chairman Messina and fifty of his core delegates are currently detained in Arcoplex One until Hannah here decides their fate. They are sharing their accommodation with the two thousand corpses resulting from the nerve gas Messina’s troops employed as they boarded the station.’ Saul paused, seeking the right tone. ‘That way our political elite can quickly acquaint themselves with digester technology.’

One of the staff let out a bark of laughter, then abruptly looked frightened. Others, too, showed shocked amusement, before dipping their heads to hide their expressions.

‘Laughter is not an offence,’ Saul declared mildly. He turned back to Langstrom. ‘Any questions?’

‘None I can think of right now.’

‘You and your men must adhere to the laws of this station too,’ Saul warned. ‘Since you’ll be in a position of trust, any infringements will call for a harsher punishment than is dealt out to ordinary civilians.’

‘Understood.’ Langstrom would do as instructed – he had risen in the ranks rather than ended up in a digester. Saul gestured towards the door, and Langstrom set off.

‘Does that answer your question?’ Saul asked Brigitta.

‘Some,’ she replied. ‘But how much freedom are we going to be allowed?’

‘How do you measure it?’ Saul asked. ‘The Arboretum?’ Angela asked.

Brigitta picked up on that. ‘We were never allowed in there.’

‘Unless there are contamination problems I don’t see why that should continue.’ Saul paused for a moment. ‘Everyone here will have the freedom to go where they want within this station. You will all have the freedom to do whatever you want so long as the work is done and whatever else you do does not endanger others or this station.’

‘I hope you’re telling the truth,’ said Brigitta.

‘I am.’

‘Better living conditions would be nice. Better food too.’

‘You three can take apartments in the Political Office.’ He paused, checking the assignment of living accommodation and beginning to make alterations. ‘I have just reassigned you to Inspectorate Executive quarters. Once building recommences in Arcoplex Two, and the living accommodation is completed there, you’ll be reassigned to apartments near the robot assembly plant and the research laboratory.’ Saul waited a moment for a response, and when none came, he turned to Chang. ‘And you?’

‘I’ll stay here,’ Chang replied, nodding towards the nearby consoles. ‘But one of those PO apartments would be nice.’

‘It’s done,’ said Saul, then turned to the others and gestured to the consoles lining the back of the control room. ‘Okay, grab your chairs and take your positions.’ He beckoned to Le Roque, now returned clad in a padded overall. ‘Get them ready.’

As Chang, the twins and the thirteen remaining moved quickly to their various consoles, Le Roque headed over beside Hannah and gazed for a moment at the bullet-damaged console, then stepped away to select another one. They began powering up, and Saul watched them for a moment. Meanwhile he called up separate views on the three wall screens: the middle screen displaying a distant view of Earth, and those on either side relaying orbital views transmitted from the laser satellites.

‘You seem to have everything well under control,’ Hannah commented as he approached her.

Saul went on studying the screens. ‘I see no purpose in wasting resources on regimenting every detail of people’s lives, nor on trying to control how they think.’

‘There’ll be problems later.’

As Saul accessed the control systems for the entire array of laser satellites spaced around the Earth, he acknowledged to himself that, yes, there would be problems. But the niggling, annoying problems of administration, of government, would perhaps be the least of them. For a start, it was by no means certain that the station could be made utterly self-sufficient, or that they could ultimately survive out here.

‘The people here are used to being told what to do, and when they begin to realize that I am not instructing them all the time, that’s when the problems will start. It’s also going to be difficult for those currently redundant,’ he said. ‘I’ll need to decide what to do with all those bureaucrats who’ve spent most of their working lives driving a desk and enforcing misery on others.’

‘Do the digesters often need cleaning?’

‘Generally not, though those in Arcoplex One might develop faults.’ He glanced at her. ‘Have you made a decision yet?’

Hannah winced.

And well she might. A glimpse into Arcoplex One revealed that the digesters had yet to be put to use. Chairman Messina, accompanied by forty-one delegates and a further twenty bodyguards, had pushed his way to the head of the queue and entered first. They had then occupied a conference hall and were currently debating the agenda, having thus far merely drawn up a list of important subjects to be considered – such as the assignment of living quarters, a resources survey, their negotiating position and who would chair the escape-assessment working group. No one had yet got round to mentioning the corpses, of which only a few had been found so far, the majority occupying private quarters or piled up at the far end of the arcoplex. The situation seemed beyond satire, and Saul wondered how long it would take before this ‘hard-headed organizational approach to extreme circumstances’ completely fell apart.

‘Most of them are guilty of murder,’ Hannah suggested.

‘Every single Committee delegate has been responsible, to some extent, for mass murder. They’re also ultimately responsible for every other atrocity the Inspectorate has committed.’

She turned to look at him. ‘Nuremberg?’

‘We don’t have the resources.’

‘I have to think more about this.’

She bowed her head and Saul thought she looked ashamed. He decided then that he would burden her with no further decisions of life and death. He caught hold of her shoulder and directed her across the control room, towards the door through into Le Roque’s former quarters. As they walked, he summoned the spidergun in behind him.

‘You must sleep on it,’ he said, as she went through the door ahead of him, then he turned to see Le Roque eyeing him curiously. ‘We’re not to be disturbed,’ Saul declared, before closing the door behind them. He watched through the spidergun’s sensors, whilst Hannah moved over to the hammock and pulled herself down on to it, its fabric adhesion clinging to her suit. By the time the multi-limbed robot had squatted down outside the door, and raised two of its weapon-bearing limbs warningly, Hannah was already fast asleep.