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‘Sounds like my idea of hell,’ Merle replied. Mudge was nodding in agreement. Cronin was just looking between them confused and a little disgusted at their flippancy.

‘This world according to Rolleston even scared a sick bastard like you?’ Morag demanded. Cronin nodded and then looked at her.

‘It’s sublime, but it’s hell,’ he told her. ‘And I’m just not strong enough. I never thought I’d be his Judas,’ Cronin said miserably. Morag was staring at him with disgust.

‘A world made over in your own image — surely even Rolleston would get bored,’ I said. I was joking but then I had some idea of what the inside of that bastard’s head looked like.

‘He is transcendent,’ Cronin said. Apparently it was supposed to be an explanation.

‘Fuck’s sake,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘But this is bullshit, right? Delusions of grandeur. He can’t do this, can he?’ I asked.

Everyone just looked at me gravely. They’d reviewed the information that Morag had stolen. Their expressions told me everything. I was scared. It was like being possessed all over again, but he could make the world like that. He’d already started in the colonies. He had the power to twist anything into his fantasies like the Berserks in the Citadel — if they had even started off as Berserks.

‘Who knew?’ Mudge asked.

‘Nobody except Rolleston, me and the-’

‘Grey Lady,’ Morag said.

Cronin nodded. Morag was staring at me. Now I couldn’t meet her eyes. She wasn’t the only one staring. Cronin had an evil little smile on his face. It was the second time he’d come very close to death.

‘The other stuff, his torturing hookers to death?’ Mudge asked.

‘I… I… don’t know. Some of the older members of the Cabal would have known. Before God they had the power to make information disappear. I mean properly, the old-fashioned way, with hard work. They would work very hard to cover their tracks.’

‘I don’t believe this shit,’ Morag said. ‘What are you leaving out?’

‘Nothing! I swear. Can’t you see how hard this is? This isn’t just another deal. I have turned my back on… on…’

‘God?’ Mudge couldn’t keep the sound of contempt out of his voice.

Cronin whipped around to look at him angrily. ‘Yes, Mr Mudgie, for all your studied cynicism and tragically hip posturing, yes, that is what I have turned my back on. I could have been part of something wonderful and instead I’ve lowered myself to your level.’ Now it was Cronin who sounded contemptuous. He shook his head, looking miserable again. ‘Like all of you, I was too frightened, too weak.’

‘Bullshit. You’re holding out on us!’ Morag snapped.

‘I am not!’ he said.

‘I believe you,’ Morag said.

Merle, Pagan and even Mudge tried to stop her, but this was her world. They were way too slow. Rannu and I stayed still. Long black obsidian nails sank into the virtual flesh of Cronin’s icon’s chest. He shook, spasmed and screamed as black lightning played over his virtual body. He died quickly, the biofeedback killing him in the real world. Quickly but in agony. I watched, smiling.

‘You stupid bitch!’ Merle screamed, losing it. I twitched as red fury threatened to overwhelm me but I suppressed it. Black Annis’s head snapped around, her thick black seaweed-like hair whipping with the movement. Merle stopped but his icon still looked furious.

‘Think about where you are!’ she warned. Merle looked like he was going to say something but thought better of it.

‘For someone who didn’t want to kill, you’re getting good at this,’ I said.

‘I’m getting used to it,’ she snapped.

‘You certainly are. How many thousands do you think you killed in the Citadel?’ It was less of a question and more of a stabbing. She didn’t look at me. She didn’t say anything for a while.

‘I’m sorry I used you, Jakob, but don’t push it,’ she growled, and she meant it.

‘He could have been more use,’ I said, nodding towards Cronin’s smoking body.

‘He’d told us everything,’ Morag said.

‘We don’t know that for sure,’ Merle spat.

‘Whose side are you on, I wonder?’ I asked her.

She just glared at me. I thought maybe I’d gone too far and then realised I really didn’t care.

‘Oh yeah, we need more paranoia and distrust on this ship,’ Mudge said.

Annis disappeared in a pillar of black fire. I looked at the space where she’d been.

‘That was a message from Rolleston,’ Mudge said. I looked over at him. ‘Think about it. If he wanted Cronin, all he had to do was possess him. Instead he put Cronin in our way and let us go. He knew that Cronin would spill his guts. It’s narcissism. He wanted us to take Cronin back to Earth.’ Pagan was nodding. ‘Cronin was his prophet, his harbinger, to dress his whole insane plan up in religious terror.’

‘Looks like Morag fucked that plan up,’ I pointed out.

‘We still have to pass the info on,’ Merle said.

‘I want to see the info you got from the Citadel,’ I said.

‘Are you in this?’ Pagan asked.

I just looked at him for a while. ‘Who the fuck are you to question me?’ I finally asked.

Pagan looked pissed off. ‘I’m sorry things went down the way they did, Jakob, I really am, but you need to remember whose house you’re in.’

‘I do. She just left.’ That’s it. Twist the knife in the old man.

‘We’ll show you, but surely we’re out now,’ Mudge said. ‘We’ve done our bit. This is going to be settled with a fleet action and a cat fight in the net, not by a few violent, sneaky bastards.’

He had a point. This had gone way beyond us now, but that didn’t mean there was an end in sight for us. They ran me through the highlights of Rolleston’s plan.

‘Oh,’ I said. The grim expressions around the room matched my own. ‘That couldn’t work, could it?’

‘Unless Earth can work together, it will work,’ Mudge the strategist said.

‘Well fuck it. It’s their problem now,’ I said without much feeling.

The pain was just about manageable now. Old burned flesh sloughed off to be replaced with new pink and tender flesh in a distinctly inhuman way. I lived in the meat suit that was the Hellion, in the care of its life-support systems. I took a lot of painkillers and spent all my time in the sanctum that Morag had designed for me. I stayed away from the others. I didn’t speak to God. We were still keeping what we knew about Rolleston’s plans away from God. Dissemination of that information would cause panic. It made me wonder why we’d bothered in the first place.

Still, it had given me a lot of time to practise with the trumpet. I think I was getting pretty good, particularly with the more bluesy numbers.

In consultation with Mudge we’d worked out how to fill the liquid bladder of the Hellion with whisky, and then hooked it into the isolated net so it synchronised with me taking a sip of virtual whisky. This and the fact that the air scrubbers on the Tetsuo Chou had finally got rid of the rotten eggs smell were the best things that had happened to me so far on the voyage.

I was sitting on a chair on the stage playing a number I’d just learned, watching the motes of dust in the light, when Merle walked in. He’d pretty much been the last person I’d expected to see.

‘How the fuck did you get in here?’ I demanded by way of a welcome.

‘Pagan,’ he told me.

‘Figures. You two have got a lot in common. You may want to tell him that I won’t be trapped in here for ever and he’s already on my shit list. I value my privacy.’

‘You mean you value your sulking time?’ I turned and fixed him with a hard glare. ‘What? You can’t do me in here, and all I have to do is let you slither out of the armour and stomp on you for a while in the real world. Even if you were up to speed, I’ve already kicked your arse once.’