Gridlinked
blood, with a horrible avidity.
    'It's slowing now,' said Geneve.
    Veltz nodded and flipped over a heavy antique switch on his console. Under the floor of the cabin there came another sound that started low and quickly cycled up to a high pitch, then apparently moved beyond human audio range. Veltz watched the antique dial next to the switch climbing slowly. He heard Pelter's belt unclip and glanced round, always nervous whenever the Separatist was moving about. Pelter then pushed himself from his chair and stepped across. Geneve disconnected her targeting grid and swung it aside. She watched Pelter warily.
    'That's an old U-charger cycling up,' he said. 'Where the hell did you get allotropic uranium?'
    'Came with the junked shuttle I bought. U-chargers were more efficient than a fusion lump then. It comes in handy,' said Veltz and, so saying, reached for the button next to the switch. Pelter's hand snapped forward and closed on Veltz's wrist. Veltz was riveted by that single violet eye. He could smell antiseptic strong over a faint whiff of corruption.
    'Let me,' said Pelter, and then slowly released his wrist. Veltz drew his hand back and placed it back on the steering column. With venom Pelter slammed his hand down on the button and watched the effects.
    The line from the vessel to the struggling dark otter momentarily glowed a dull red. The otter exploded from the water, then crashed down again, small lightnings webbing across its smooth black skin. After it hit the water, it sank, then bobbed to the surface once more, completely inert. Pelter sighed, and Veltz saw the expression on his face go from avidity to disappointment.
    'What now?' he asked.
    'Now we tow it to the Banks. They should be exposed now, and should remain exposed for the next eight hours,' Veltz replied.
    'How long till we get there?'
    'An hour, give or take.'
    Pelter nodded and returned to his chair. Veltz turned away from him and hit controls on the more modern touch console. The cabin, on gimbals at the ends of its support struts, silently turned until it was facing the other way. Now they could see the turbine ahead of and below them, between the hulls. The line to the dark otter had remained in place as Veltz slowly applied thrust. It was a careful acceleration this time; he did not want to tear the harpoon out of their prize.
    Cormac had a brief view of Cheyne III through the elliptical portal as the shuttle decelerated and banked. Like any living world seen from this distance, it was a jewel pinned to the blackness of space and bore no hint of the flaws to be found on a closer inspection. Opalescent clouds swirled over blue sea, and partially concealed a continent mottled brown and purple, which he had always felt resembled a man stooping to do up his shoelace. Soon the planet slid from view and the shuttle was coming in over a plain of rock formations that resembled the surface of a human brain. He understood why the first settlers had named Cheyne Ill's largest moon Cereb.
    'I'm not going to shut down your link,' Blegg said.
    Cormac nodded as the runcible installation came into view. He noted the sudden surge of excited talk from the other passengers. There, on the plain of rock, stood a city of glass and light. On clear nights it was something you could actually see from the surface of the planet. He drew his eyes away from the vision only when a soft chime announced a message.
    'Please fasten your seat belts,' said the soft voice of the shuttle AI. Cormac did as instructed. The message was very different in executive class.
    'Who will shut it down, then?' he asked.
    'Any runcible AI will do so when you request it to,' Blegg replied.
    Retros fired and the gravity inside the shuttle was slowly adjusted to that of Cereb's. Cormac felt his weight decreasing, but that gave him no lift.
    'Am I ordered to disconnect?' he asked.
    Something roared and the shuttle vibrated. It dipped down towards the shuttleport on the outskirts of the installation. Here

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