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“Even after everything Aurora did to you?”

“Aurora poses no threat to the greater community of the Conjoined. You might as well take revenge on the sea for drowning someone.”

“Then you’ll do nothing.” He thought that was the end of it, but after a long silence she said, “I admit I would find… consolation in seeing her hurt.” Dreyfus nodded approvingly.

“Then you do feel something. You’ve notched down those old baseline human emotions, but you haven’t expunged them completely. She did something horrific to you and your crew, and part of you needs to hit back.”

“Except there is nothing to hit.”

“But if we could identify her vulnerabilities, find a way to make life difficult for her… would you help us?”

“I wouldn’t hinder you.”

“I know you looked deep into our data architecture before I brought you into this room. You told me you’d seen nothing of interest. But now that the damage is done, I want you to sift through that information again. It’s all in your head. Look at it from different angles. If you can find something, anything, no matter how apparently inconsequential, that sheds any light on Aurora’s location or nature, or how we might strike back, I need to know about it.”

“There may be nothing.”

“But there’s no harm in looking.”

A tightness appeared in her face.

“It will take a while. Do not expect me to give you an answer immediately.”

“That’s all right,” Dreyfus said.

“I’ve got another witness I need to speak to.” Just when he thought they were done, that she had said everything she wanted to say to him, Clepsydra spoke again. “Dreyfus.”

“Yes?”

“I do not forgive your kind for what they did to us on Mars, or for the years of persecution that followed. It would be a betrayal of Galiana’s memory were I to do that.” Then she looked him in the eyes, daring him not to reciprocate.

“But you are not like those men. You have been kind to me.” Dreyfus called by the Turbine hall and sought out Trajanova, the woman he’d spoken to after the earlier accident. He was gladdened to see that two of the four machines were now spinning again, even if they were obviously not operating at normal capacity. The machine nearest the destroyed unit was still stationary, with at least a dozen technicians visible inside the transparent casing. As for the destroyed machine itself, there was now little evidence that it had ever existed. The remains of the casing had been removed, leaving circular apertures in the floor and ceiling. Technicians crowded around both sites, directing heavy servitors to assist them in the slow process of installing a new unit.

“You’ve obviously been busy,” Dreyfus told Trajanova.

“Field prefects aren’t the only ones who work hard in this organisation.”

“I know. And my remark wasn’t intended as a slight. We’ve all been under pressure and I appreciate the work that’s gone on down here. I’ll make sure the supreme prefect hears about it.”

“And which supreme prefect would that be?”

“Jane Aumonier, of course. No disrespect to Lillian Baudry, but Jane’s the only one who matters in the long run.” Trajanova looked sideways, not quite able to meet Dreyfus’ eyes.

“For what it’s worth… I don’t agree with what happened. Down here we have a lot of respect for Jane.”

“She’s earned it from all of us.” There was an awkward silence. Across the room someone hammered at something.

“What will happen now?” Trajanova asked at length.

“We work for Lillian, just as we worked for Jane. I don’t know what else you’ve heard, but we have a new crisis on our hands.” Dreyfus chose to volunteer information, hoping it might calm some of the troubled water between them.

“I need to resume interviews with my beta-level subjects: I’m hoping that they can shed some light on what’s going on and how we can stop it.” Trajanova looked at the two spinning Search Turbines.

“Those units are running at half-capacity. I can’t risk spinning them any faster. But I could prioritise your search queries, if that would help. You wouldn’t notice much difference.”

“I can still run my recoverables?”

“Yes, there’s more than enough capacity for that.”

“Good work, Trajanova.” After a moment, he said, “I know things didn’t work out between us when you were my deputy, but I’ve never had the slightest doubt concerning your professional competence down here.”

She considered his remark before answering.

“Prefect…” she began.

“What is it?”

“What you said before—the last time we spoke. About how you’d had the feeling your own query had triggered the accident?”

Dreyfus waved a dismissive hand.

“It was foolish of me. These things happen.”

“Not down here they don’t. I checked the search log and you were right. Of all the queries handled by the Turbines in the final second before the accident, yours was the last one to come in. You searched for priors on the Nerval-Lermontov family, correct?”

“Yes,” Dreyfus said cautiously.

“Just after your query was shuffled into the process stack, the Turbine began to exceed its own maximum authorised spin rate. It spun itself apart in less than one quarter of a second.”

“It must still have been a coincidence.”

“Prefect, now I’m the one trying to convince you. Something went wrong, but I don’t believe it was coincidence. The operating logic of one of these things is complex, and much of the instruction core was lost when the Turbine failed. But if I could ever piece it back together, I think I know what I’d find. Your search query was a trigger. Someone had implanted a trap in the operating logic, waiting to be primed by your question.”

Dreyfus mulled over her hypothesis. It dovetailed with his suspicions, but it was another thing entirely to hear it from Trajanova’s lips.

“You honestly think someone could have done that?”

“I could have done it, if I’d had the mind to. For anyone else, it would have been a lot more difficult. Frankly, I don’t see how they could have done it without triggering high-level security flags. But somehow they managed.”

“Thank you,” Dreyfus said softly.

“I appreciate your candour. Given what’s happened, are you satisfied that I won’t cause any more damage just by querying the system?”

“I can’t promise anything, but I’ve installed manual overspeed limits on both operating Turbs. No matter what traps may still be lurking in the logic, I don’t think the Turbs will be able to self-destruct. Go ahead and ask whatever you need to ask.”

“I will,” Dreyfus said.

“But I’ll tread ever so softly.”

Delphine Ruskin-Sartorious appraised him with her sea-green eyes, cool as ice.

“You look very tired. More so than last time, and you already looked tired back then. Is something the matter?”

Dreyfus pressed a fat finger against the side of his brow, where a vein was throbbing.

“Things have been busy.”

“Have you made progress on the case?”

“Sort of. I’ve an idea who may have been behind the murders but I’m still not seeing a motive. I was hoping you’d be able to join a few dots for me.”

Delphine pushed strands of dirty black hair under the cloth scarf she wore as a hairband.

“You’ll have to join some for me first. Who is this suspect you’re thinking of?” Dreyfus sipped from the bulb of coffee he’d conjured just before stepping into the room.

“My deputy and I followed an evidence chain, trying to find out who called your habitat to put you off making the deal with Dravidian. The lead we followed brought us to the name of another family in the Glitter Band.”

Delphine’s eyes narrowed. Genuine interest, Dreyfus thought.

“Who?” she asked. Feeling as if he was treading across a minefield, he said, “The Nerval-Lermontovs. Do you know of them?”

Beneath the workstained white smock, her slight shoulders moved in an easy shrug.