‘The Hyperion’s systems are undergoing aggressive analysis by sources currently on its bridge,’ Piri informed him at one point. ‘It appears to be an attempt to locate both yourself and Dakota.’

‘How many are on board the Hyperion now?’

‘Six, including David Gardner, Kieran Mansell and Senator Arbenz. The remaining three are not on record, but are armed and wearing combat-ready armour.’

‘Those are probably security from the Agartha. Have they gone anywhere near the cargo bay yet?’

‘Apart from yourself and Miss Merrick, there has been no physical human presence in the cargo bay since our departure from Mesa Verde. However, aggressive security scans have probed the bay several times in the past few minutes.’

‘But they can’t detect the Piri, can they?’

‘Visual and data feeds show only partly depleted ion cells placed in storage,’ came the reply.

‘And that’ll hold up?’

‘Only so long as the cargo bay is not physically entered for visual confirmation.’

‘What happens if we take you outside the Hyperion right now? What are our chances?’

‘The prognosis is not good,’ came the reply. ‘I am equipped primarily for counter-surveillance. Regardless of this, the chances of being visually identified on exiting the Hyperion are very high, in which case black-ops capabilities would be of negligible effect against the firepower of either the Hyperion or the Agartha. My recommendation is we should remain hidden within the cargo bay as long as possible.’

So either they stayed put until the others finally found their hiding place, or they could exit the Hyperion and get blown out of existence.

Corso yanked himself up out of his seat and returned to the medbox. Dakota’s breathing looked deep and regular, as he gazed down at her through the transparent cover. The wounds and bruises she’d picked up looked like they were healing rapidly.

‘Any more on Dakota’s prognosis, Piri?’

‘She is recovering well, but it will be some hours before she is fully functional.’

‘We don’t have that much time. Can we wake her now?’

‘That is not advisable.’

‘I don’t care if it’s advisable. Can we wake her?’

A pause. ‘Yes.’

‘Then do it.’

‘This is counter to safe practice of-’

‘Piri, she gave me full privileges. Do it.’

Lights on the medbox changed from red to green. The tentacle-like sensors slowly unwound from around her still form. Her injuries weren’t anywhere near as bad now as they would have been without the medbox’s rapid-healing technology, but she still looked a long way from sparkling health.

Corso hated to wake her so soon, but he needed her help if they were going to get out of this.

‘Do you have any idea exactly what that was in her Ghost implants?’

‘That is difficult to ascertain,’ the ship replied. ‘I detected two conflicting processes. One appeared to share traits with the invasive routines found within the Hyperion’s data stacks, whereas the second bore a closer relationship to data configurations originating from within the derelict.’

‘What, two processes? Explain that.’

‘There were what appear, upon initial analysis, to be two invasive processes present within Dakota’s ghost implants,’ the ship replied with endless pedantry. ‘These have been erased where possible, along with a variety of traps and memory blocks.’

Dakota’s chest heaved suddenly, her back arching, her small apple-sized breasts pressing upwards. Corso was having a hard time pushing back memories that were still delightfully fresh; the opportunities for sex back home on Redstone were limited, to say the least, given the Freehold’s tight social constraints. It had felt at the time like Dakota was assuaging some deep hunger that went beyond the expression of mere lust, into a need whose origin he couldn’t begin to guess.

Apart from that, it had been the greatest fuck of his life.

The lid hissed open. Corso remembered what the Piri Reis had just told him: memory blocks. Dakota’s eyelids fluttered and her eyes stared through him. After a moment she managed to focus on him at last.

‘Corso…’ She coughed and shook her head, and brought up a thin stream of liquid, retching as she cleared her lungs of the complex chemicals the medbox had used in the repair process. He reached down and helped as she struggled into a sitting position. Dakota leaned over the side of the medbox, choking and gasping the last of the medicinal liquid out of her system. Corso got his hands under her arms and helped her stand up slowly. She was shivering violently.

‘How… how long’s it been?’ she managed to stammer, her breath still heaving. She was peering around the command module as if she’d never seen it before.

‘Not that long. Couple of hours since I got you back from the bridge. But I don’t know how long we’ve got before Arbenz and the rest track us down.’

‘Shit.’

He helped her over to an acceleration couch and she dragged herself on to it, wiping gunge from her face and hair.

‘We need to get away,’ she croaked.

Corso shook his head. ‘Can’t do. They’ll shoot us out of orbit the moment we’re seen outside the Hyperion. There’s only so much subterfuge the Piri Reis can manage.’ He paused for a moment. ‘That’s why I brought you round early just now. I was hoping you might prove me wrong on that.’

She tried to focus more fully on him, and then started laughing weakly. ‘Put me back. Put me back in the medbox and wake me up when the universe is over. Oh my God, we’re fucked. We’re totally fucked.’

‘No, we’re not, Dakota, and I need your help if we’re going to get out of this. But I need to ask you some questions before we do anything else.’

‘At least find me some clothes first.’

‘Sure.’

Corso negotiated his way through to her sleeping quarters. A maelstrom of both clean and unwashed clothing still floated there, and began whirling around him as he disturbed the air with his passage. He grabbed a pair of trousers and the cleanest t-shirt he could find, and propelled his way back through. Dakota was curled up into a ball on the couch, one arm looped securely through a piece of webbing. For a moment he thought she’d fallen asleep, but then she opened her eyes and stared at him.

‘So did you bring me some clothes or are you just going to stand there staring at me like a pervert?’