The four of us gazed down at the thrashing remains as they disintegrated.
I looked round at Mortress Tutrone and Fischig.
'I know which one of you I'd rather have around in a fight/1 muttered.
Tutrone laughed. Fischig didn't.
'What was it?' Aemos asked me as we raced in Fischig's landspeeder through the streets to the Arbites' headquarters.
'You guessed more than I know/ I replied. A gift from his masters, certainly/
'What manner of masters make a thing like that?'
'Powerful ones, Aemos. The worst kind/
Our meeting at the Arbites' grim chambers was brief. At my request, Fischig had summoned Magus Palastemes, the head of the cryogenerator technomagi.
He took one look at the casket in the evidence room and said, 'I have no idea what it is/
Thank you. That will be all/ I told him. I turned to Fischig. 'Have this sent immediately to my vessel/
'It is state's evidence-' he began.
'Who do you work for, Fischig?'
The Emperor/
"Then pretend I'm him and you won't be far wrong. Do it/
* * *
Hadam Bonz was waiting for us in the interrogation room. He had been stripped naked, but Fischig assured me nothing of import had been found in his clothes.
Bonz was the gunman I had laid out in the cryogenerator chamber, the only one of Eyclone's men to have survived the night. His mouth was swollen from my blow. He had admitted nothing except his name.
Fischig, Aemos and I entered the room, a dull stone box. Bonz was shackled to a metal chair and looked terrified.
So should he, I thought.
Tell me about Murdin Eyclone/ I said.
Who?' The darkness had gone from his eyes now, Eyclone's spell broken. He was bewildered and confused.
Then tell me the last thing you remember.'
'I was on Thracian Primaris. That was my home. I was a stevedore in the docks. I remember going to a bar with a friend. That is all/
The friend?'
'A dock master called Wyn Eddon. We got drunk, I think/
'Did Eddon mention an Eyclone?'
'No. Look, where am I? These bastards won't say. What I am supposed to have done?'
I smiled. 'You tried to kill me for a start/
'You?'
'I'm an Imperial inquisitor/
At that, terror made him lose control of his body functions. He began pleading, begging, telling us all sorts of misdemeanours, none of which mattered.
I knew from the first moments that he was useless. Just a mesmerised slave, chosen for his muscle, knowing nothing. But we spent two hours with him anyway. Fischig slowly turned a wall dial near the door that vented in increasing measures of the sub-zero air outside the Sun-dome. In our heat gowns, we asked questions over and again.
When Bonz's flesh began to adhere to the metal chair, we knew there was nothing more.
'Warm him up and feed him well/ Fischig told his men as we left the cell. We execute him at dawn/
I didn't ask if that meant some arbitrary time in the next cycle or real dawn, six months away, at the start of Thaw.
I didn't much care.
Fischig left us to our own devices for a while, and I ate lunch with Aemos at a public bistro almost directly under the Sun-dome. The food was sour, rehashed from freeze-dried consumables, but at least it was hot. Fountain banks projected walls of water around the edges of the bistro so that the sun-globe light made rainbows that criss-crossed the tables and aisles. On this sombre day of mourning, there were no other diners present.
Aemos was in good spirits. He chatted away, making connections I hadn't begun to see. For all his faults, he possessed a superb mind. Every hour I spent with him, I learned more techniques.
He was forking up fish and rice and reviewing his data slate.
'Let's look at the transmission lag that Lowink detected in the messages Eyclone sent and received while on the planet/
They're all in cipher. Lowink hasn't unlocked them yet/
'Yes, yes, but look at the lag. This one… eight seconds… that's from a ship in orbit… and the timeframe matches that period in which we know Eyclone's mysterious starship was here. But this… during your struggle with him last night. A lag of twelve and a half minutes. That's from another system/
