The holovolume was of the highest resolution, while every chair offered its occupant the option of additional copies to be manipulated and explored at will. Everyone watched as the events played out once more. Jed found it odd to see himself, and embarrassing to see that he had done nothing but watch; but then, he had not known what was happening. Nor did he feel he had much grasp of the situation now.

‘What was that manifestation?’ asked Whitwell finally, with the vocal precision that Jed associated with academics. ‘Schenck’s escape mechanism at the end, along with his … cohort.’

Zajac, his face still blotched, took in a breath as if about to let loose verbally; then he stopped himself.

‘We don’t know,’ said Max. ‘Something like a fastpath rotation, clearly. But with the number of people and fastpaths in place, he should not have been able to summon an exit. The best we can think’ – he nodded to some Pilots further down the table – ‘is a sort of permanent spacetime fracture, rather than something that needs to be created as it’s used. An escape route that’s always in place.’

‘He used an unknown technique,’ said Zajac, ‘to escape a larger hostile force. Nothing in that constitutes treason.’

Jed, staring at the now-still holo, had a different question to ask.

‘What happened to Clara?’ he said.

Frowns came from all sides; but she was one of the few people involved here that he actually knew, and he liked her.

‘In the Med Centre,’ said Pavel. ‘With Clayton guarding over her.’

‘Well, good. Sorry.’

Max gestured, and the holoview was replenished. For a moment, Jed thought it was a replay, because it showed the same docking space. But this was an earlier time, with fewer ships at dock, and after a moment he recognized one of them. It was distinctive: black and powerful, banded with red. Configured for unusual work, since it clearly lacked cargo space.

‘That’s Carl Blackstone’s ship,’ he said. ‘I saw it on Fulgor.’

Several people looked at him. Everyone knew who Blackstone had been, and the story of his hellflight sacrifice, coming here to raise the alarm.

‘You’re right,’ said Max. ‘And the city will verify what you’ll see if you zoom in on her hull. Admiral Zajac, you have control.’

‘What?’

‘Of the image, sir. Please go ahead.’

‘Hmm. Right.’

The black-and-red ship expanded in the display, and the scoring became obvious: gashes in her hull only just beginning to heal and scar.

‘That’s not realspace weapon fire,’ said Whitwell.

Max smiled, as if he had placed a bet with himself about who would spot it first, and had won.

‘Are you fucking serious?’ Zajac’s voice boomed around the majestic chamber. ‘You’re saying that one of Schenck’s people tried to kill Carl Blackstone? Tried to stop him raising the alarm regarding Fulgor?’

‘That’s right,’ said Max. ‘That’s what fucking Schenck did.’

Matching Zajac’s profanity had no noticeable effect.

Whitwell said, ‘More than one, I think. A prolonged engagement could leave similar traces, but I think there were multiple attackers, perhaps an ambush.’

‘Ambush?’ said Zajac. ‘You mean you believe these bastards?’

‘I don’t know. Perhaps I do.’

Zajac turned on Max.

‘You’d better have more than this.’

‘Of course I do,’ said Max. ‘When Schenck began to move openly, we had the final confirmation on who was part of his coup. Our surveillance has been years in the construction, you understand. Recruiting the counter-strike force and keeping it secret, that was Pavel’s work. He saved us, gentlemen, in case you haven’t got that yet.’

‘So you have the details of all Schenck’s … co-conspirators, is that it?’

‘One of whom’ – Max nodded to Whitwell – ‘was your aidede-camp, Admiral. I’m sorry to say that she was killed … on her way to assassinate you.’

‘What? You’ve got … evidence. Of course you have.’

‘Yes. Sorry. While you, sir,’ Max said to Zajac, ‘Schenck thought safe to leave in place. It gave us suspicions about you, but he simply thought he could use your … ebullience … to his advantage, at least in the early days of assuming total control.’

Jed thought: for ebullience read belligerence.

‘What’s more, um, rarefied,’ added Max, ‘is that we have some people capable of detecting a sort of malign influence that … Schenck is not normal, and he broadcasts some kind of signs of that. Our people haven’t determined its nature, but every sensitive individual detects the same phenomena under the same double-blind circumstances. Call it an evil aura.’

‘Is this some form of mysticism?’ said Zajac.

‘Not to me. Maybe to Schenck. The point is, Carl Blackstone was one of the sensitives, and so is his son.’ Max looked at Jed. ‘Currently in hiding, and I think someone should fetch him back, don’t you?’

‘Er … Yes, sir.’ Jed started to shift forward, the chair reconfiguring to help him stand.

‘Not right this moment. Stay now, for pity’s sake,’ said Max. ‘Your testimony is possibly the most important part of what we’re discussing today.’

Confusion twisted vortex-like inside Jed.

‘Me?’

Max sighed.

‘Everyone, this footage I’m about to show you is from my ship. You’ll see Jed Goran’s ship appearing in it. The point is, since he was there with me, he’ll have similar footage from his own vessel’s memory. Not to mention, he can verify what he saw himself.’

Jed both understood and did not. Everything had been massively strange since the moment he gave chase to Max Gould; only now could he see that it had been two insane episodes, not one: the events at the galactic core, then here on the docks.

This time the holoview showed realspace, but blazing so brightly that someone had to ask: ‘Where is this, exactly?’

‘It’s near the heart of the galaxy,’ said Max. ‘There’s a phenomenon that I’ve known of for some time, but had not witnessed myself. Unlike Carl Blackstone.’

Jed did not know what to make of that.

‘I was there,’ he said. ‘Following the commodore.’

The image swung, revealing the linear spike from the galaxy’s core, like a needle thrust into a shining ball.

‘Galactic jet,’ said Whitwell. ‘In our galaxy. I didn’t know, but what is the point?’

Everything was in slow motion. They watched as the space station swung into view, saw the five mu-space vessels that were Max’s pursuers, and the ripple in reality that preceded the triple explosion destroying three of the ships. Jed looked away, not wanting to see Davey’s death again.

‘Let’s reset.’ Max gestured, and the galactic jet was visible once more, the image frozen. ‘And take a look at the geometry, will you, everyone?’

Numeric data glowed.

‘The ascension and declination look familiar,’ said Zajac. ‘I mean, tracing the jet’s path, the way it’s pointing …’

‘Earth,’ said Whitwell. ‘The jet is pointed radially out of the core, directly at Earth.’

That was when the air above the table began to ripple.

‘Holo, out!’ commanded Max.

Without the image, the distortion was obvious, and growing bigger. People began pushing themselves back from the conference table, getting to their feet.

‘Evacuate,’ said Max. ‘Everybody get—’

A hole in reality appeared, and a small white-and-red object fell out, hit the tabletop and bounced. Then spacetime wriggled back to normalcy, and the phenomenon was past.

Everyone looked to Admiral Whitwell for the answer – he had a reputation for immense eclectic knowledge, and his observations on the holo footage had been perceptive and incisive – but he shook his head, mouth downturned.

‘I think I know what it is,’ said a Pilot who looked too young to be part of this. ‘I’m a history buff, and my dad was a – he flew a large-distortion geodesic before I was born, see. With the time dilation, he remembers visiting Earth centuries ago. So I’ve always been interested in artefacts, and … Can I?’