When Victoria stepped into the lab, she found Elpida and Kagami waiting in uncomfortable silence, wrapped in static storm-haze from beyond the tomb.

Kagami’s laboratory occupied the compartment which contained Pheiri’s ART charging cradles — a long, cramped, tight space, accessed via a sturdy steel hatch off the left-hand side of the spinal corridor.

When they’d first converted the compartment for the scientific and engineering needs of the meat-plant project, Elpida had referred to it as Pheiri’s very own ‘buried fields’, in comparison with her long-lost Telokopolis. Atyle and Serin had both taken to calling it ‘the greenhouse’; that name had caught on with Amina, Ilyusha, and Ooni, but only until the failure of Kagami’s first few nano-engineered meat seeds, the ones which had to be thrown out and burned. Vicky didn’t like to think too much about those, the way they had twitched and spasmed as if trying to scream, and their awful rotten-egg reek. Ilyusha had started calling it the ‘shit pit’ after that, which worried Vicky. It wasn’t Kagami’s fault the nanomachines were so difficult to work with. Kaga was performing miracles in that little room — a combination of biology, physics, botany, and nano-engineering, which had probably never been attempted before, at least not by anything smaller than some god-like room-sized AI-brain.

Vicky had insisted on calling it just ‘the lab’, never ‘Kagami’s lab’. She was determined not to let Kaga treat it as her private domain and private responsibility. There was too much risk of Kaga retreating inside, barring the door, and refusing to ever come out again.

Eventually the name had stuck, especially once the project had started to work.

Five of the six ART charging cradles — the person-sized android self-repair and recharge stations — were laid down on their sides to form a workbench against the rear wall. Elpida and Vicky had checked with Melyn and Hafina before disconnecting the cradles; would the Artificial Humans ever need these again? Hafina had said a simple ‘no thanks’, then refused to elaborate; Melyn had disliked the question so much that she’d dropped into a non-verbal state for the following twelve hours. Consulting Pheiri had confirmed Victoria’s deduction; Melyn and Hafina had long since left behind any need for the charging cradles, except in extreme emergencies. They would be fine as long as they kept eating and drinking from Pheiri’s on-board manufactories. Elpida had eventually elected to keep just one of the charging cradles in the upright position, wired into Pheiri’s systems, ready to go, just in case Haf or Mel ever got seriously wounded.

A long flat sheet of metal scavenged from the city served as a work surface, laid across the top of the cradles. Two seats had been commandeered from Pheiri’s spinal corridor; one sat before the makeshift workbench, stuffed with spare blankets — Kaga’s comfy throne. The other stood near the lab’s entrance, skeletal metal with some remnants of foam still clinging to the bones.

At the far end of the compartment was a little nest of bedsheets; Vicky knew from experience that Kagami sometimes slept here when she wanted to be alone, or when she couldn’t be bothered to walk back to the bunk room. The nest currently cradled a pair of matte black drones, each about the size of Vicky’s forearm — two of Kagami’s new acquisitions from the armoury.

One end of the workbench was cluttered with Kagami’s equipment and instruments: a powerful microscope; a set of containers full of various murky liquids and assorted sludges; a single glass cannister which contained less than one mouthful of precious raw blue nanomachines — inert now, allowed to quieten and die as a sacrifice to the scientific process; and a whole mess of circuit boards and exposed wiring, hooked up to tiny screens, dials, and switches. Beyond that lay the more esoteric machines, built by Kagami herself from the cannibalised innards of one of the ART charging cradles — an ‘electro-stimulation nerve-jack’ which just looked like a cattle prod, a ‘bio-res flesh-inhibitor’ like an inverted cup made of mirrors, and a weird set of metal prongs which was apparently called a ‘growth-provoking pulse delivery system’.

Three meat-plants occupied the rest of the workbench, dominating the space, growing from sloppy grey soil in big shiny steel basins.

The soil had been scraped from between cracks in the city streets, then mixed with almost a full pint of blood — mostly Elpida’s donation, though everyone else had given a little of themselves to the project, even Serin. According to Kagami the soil was merely a ‘nano-stabilising medium’, not the source of the meat-plants’ growth; that was provided partly by the electrodes and probes sunk into the soil and hooked into Pheiri’s power supply — a poor substitute for photosynthesis, apparently. But the primary engine of growth was the internal nature of the seeds themselves.

Kagami had tried to explain this to Vicky, once, but she had quickly descended into technical jargon far beyond Vicky’s comprehension — ‘proton self-stimulation’, ‘nanomachine nucleo-germination’, ‘matter translation via quantum foam impression reproduction’.

The bottom line, boiled down so that any old artillery officer or Medieval peasant or ‘paleo’ primitive could understand, was that Kagami had figured out how to make the nanomachines copy themselves. This process was slow, awkward, and prone to awful fail-state mutations — not to mention incredibly primitive and disgustingly messy and beneath even the lowliest of Luna’s technology. In a non-nanomachine biosphere this would risk the worst kind of ecological destruction, a true grey-goo scenario, the eradication of all biological life, and so on and so on and so on, as everybody had heard a dozen times over, whenever Kagami got started on the topic. Good thing the biosphere was dead already and the world had filled up with zombies. No danger playing with the ashes when there was nothing left to burn.

The meat-plants were miracles, little hijacked pieces of the nanomachine ecosystem itself.

If Elpida was even half-right about the purpose of this whole nightmare afterlife, then these meat-plants were revolutionary praxis. Sustenance without predation. Food for all, given enough time and further success.

Vicky always tried to keep that in mind whenever she stepped into the lab, because the plants themselves gave her the creeps.

They’d been alright when they were little nubs of crimson flesh nestled in craters of grey soil, and they were much better than the failures which had twitched and shivered and stank like rotten eggs, but as they’d grown they had looked more and more like what they really were — living meat.

Each plant was almost three feet tall now, supported by a tracery of vein-like roots throbbing and pulsing under the grey soil. Each ‘trunk’ was a thick wedge of skinless muscle, glistening in garnet and crimson, forever weeping a pinkish froth which moistened the soil beneath. Fronds and frills sprouted from the trunk at mathematically precise intervals, like fern-leaves crossed with the inside of a healthy human lung, always shivering gently, though there was no air-flow in the lab. Each leaf was coated in a thick layer of viscous mucus, collecting at the tips of the ferns and dripping onto the soil like tar. The lowest of the ‘leaves’ were a good foot wide now, growing gravid with heavy buds on their undersides. The buds were identical to the seeds from which the plants had grown, the seeds Kagami had engineered from raw blue and fresh blood and electricity.

Fruit — to be planted or eaten. But not yet ripe. The project had weeks or months to go.

Kagami was currently sprawled in her comfy throne. Her six silver-grey drones lay on the workbench next to her. As Vicky entered and straightened up, Kagami looked at her with a pinched and offended frown. No improvement since she’d left Victoria behind in the control cockpit.

Elpida was examining the meat-plants, her back toward the door.

Kagami spoke before Vicky could open her mouth, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well done, Victoria. That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now, shut the door and sit down, don’t just stand there glaring. What are you waiting for? A doggy treat and a pat on the head? Want me to call you ‘good girl’ again? Huh!”

Victoria returned a silent stare.

The fury of the hurricane filled the air, wind whipping around the distant corners of the tomb.

In the corner of Victoria’s eye she saw Elpida turn away from the plants, but Elpi was smart enough not to intervene.

Kagami spread her hands. “What? For fuck’s sake Victoria, what now?”

Vicky spoke slowly and carefully. “You can get away with one little ‘woof woof’ at me. I’ll let that slide. Maybe I even deserved it. But if you keep talking to me like that, I’m off.” She thumbed over her shoulder, at the open hatch. “I’ve got plenty to be getting on with. Sorting all our new equipment, checking on the newbies, or just, fuck it, jilling myself off in my bunk. You’re not my commanding officer and this isn’t my old regiment. If you want to mess with me, Kaga, you’re gonna have to throw hands. And I guarantee I will make you bark first.”

Kagami’s face exploded with incandescent blush. Her jaw shivered, then clamped shut. She looked away.

“Drop the dog jokes,” Vicky finished. “Thanks.”

Storm-tossed hailstone-haze and howling wind filled the silence.

Elpida cleared her throat. “Vicky, good morning. Good to see you.”

“Elpi, hey. Is it really morning already?”

“Technically.”

Elpida smiled, a little wry; her purple eyes showed no sign of fatigue. She had stripped out of her coat and trousers, leaving her long brown legs exposed, barefoot and unarmed in only underwear and a skintight tomb-grey t-shirt. Her right forearm was bandaged over the deep bite wound she’d taken from Eseld. Her long white hair hung loose, swept to one side.

She looked — good, Vicky realised. Too good. The brooding cobwebs of the last few weeks had been swept away without a trace.

Elpida took a step forward and clapped a hand on Vicky’s shoulder. Victoria felt herself stand up a little straighter, breathe a little easier, think a little clearer.

“How are you holding up, Vicky?”

“I’m good, thank you, Commander.” She bit back a return question — and you?

Elpida raised her eyebrows. “Really? Are you sure about that?”

Vicky hesitated. “Uh … ”

“Between the hurricane, our current position, and the encounter with the Necromancers, morale is weird. Not bad, exactly. We did win, after all. Bellies are full, bullets are plentiful, we’re all safe. Just … weird. I can tell, it’s in everyone’s eyes. Yours too. So, Vicky, I’ll ask again. How are you holding up?”

Vicky puffed out a big sigh. “Rattled, I guess. This is weird, yeah, you’re right about that. And Shilu is giving me the creeps. I think she’s giving everyone the creeps, just waiting out there like that. We should hunker down and prep, I think I’d be more comfortable if we focused on that. Pheiri needs maintenance. We’ve got lots to stow. That kinda thing. We should talk about stuff too, Commander. Important stuff, I mean.”

Elpida nodded. “I agree. And how about physically? You alright?”

Vicky laughed. “I’m good. Maybe a little tired. But hey, it’s not like I was doing much.”

“Don’t minimise your contributions,” Elpida said. “Thank you, for running mission control here in Pheiri. It’s very important.”

“You’re welcome. And thanks, Elpi.”

“And how’s my little brother himself doing? Anything out of the ordinary?”

“Pheiri’s fine, everything’s normal. I left Ooni up in the cockpit for now, keeping an eye on the screens. She knows to watch Shilu carefully, I reminded her of that.”

“Good job, Vicky, thank you. And Shilu still hasn’t moved?” Vicky nodded. Elpida let out a curious ‘mm’ sound, then stepped back. “Well, like Kagami said, go ahead and shut the door, please.”

Vicky hesitated. “What is this all about?”

Elpida’s expression was suddenly unreadable. “Shut the door, please. This needs to be private.”

Victoria did as she was asked, but her heart skipped a beat. Kagami was eyeing her with bitter embarrassment and smouldering recrimination — worse than usual, like something terrible had happened. Elpida was unreadable, professional, back in command, with all the rough edges of the last few weeks suddenly filed off and folded away. Had her encounter with Eseld really fixed her that quickly?

The distant roaring of the storm filled the compartment, muffled beyond so many layers of dark metal and shadowy void.

Had Kaga and Elpi — with each other?

Upstairs, in the dark, during their expedition? No, no, there was no way! Kagami wouldn’t have the guts, and Elpida knew that Vicky and Kaga had a thing going on. Elpida wouldn’t, she wouldn’t — but then again, Elpida and her cadre back in life, they’d all been one giant happy polycule together, hadn’t they? To Elpida, physical intimacy was just another interpersonal tool. She was used to being close to her comrades — skin-close, casual sex close. Right? Kagami had mentioned ‘betrayal’, but not Vicky’s betrayal, whatever that had meant. Vicky had chalked it up to Kagami’s usual spleen, but had Kagami meant her own betrayal? Had she — with Elpi?

Was this Elpida’s way of trying to mend the rift between them? Or of shoring up herself, her own psyche?

No, no, this was all wrong! This wasn’t what Victoria wanted at all! She was treating Kaga gently, giving her time and space and—

Kagami snorted. “I can’t believe you brought that bloody talisman with you.”

“A-ah?” Vicky blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“That!” Kagami jabbed a finger at Victoria’s automatic grenade launcher, strapped over her shoulder with the weapon’s heavy sling. “I don’t know why you’re carrying it around. You’re not likely to encounter an occupied enemy trench in here, are you?”

“Uh … yeah, I just— I didn’t want to leave it with Ooni.”

“Ha!” Kagami laughed. “I thought you trusted the little ex-fash goblin.”

“I do!” Vicky sighed. “Kaga, don’t make this any more difficult than it already— I mean— I mean, yes, of course I trust her. Trust had nothing to do with it. I just don’t want her to fiddle with the components.”

Elpida said: “That’s from the tomb armoury?”

“Yeah,” Vicky said, turning to show the weapon. “AGL. Automatic grenade launcher.”

“Very nice. And you’re familiarising yourself with it?”

Victoria nodded. “Stripping and checking the parts. If I’m gonna use it, I don’t want any risk of a jam. And don’t worry, it’s not loaded.”

“I know,” said Elpida. “I’m not worried.”

Vicky tried to swallow her own heart. “Seriously, what’s all this about? Don’t keep me on the edge of my seat here, you know? Heh … ”

Elpida leaned back against the workbench, stretching out her bare legs. Her white hair was framed by the shivering blood-red fronds of the meat-plants. She crossed her arms, raised her chin, and said: “Are you ready, Kaga?”

Kagami huffed, rolled her eyes, and looked away.

Victoria’s pulse pounded in her ears. She wasn’t ready for this either. Was Kaga embarrassed, or upset? Had Elpida coaxed Kagami into something she hadn’t really wanted? Had she used Kagami’s needs to feed something within herself? Was that why she seemed so much better, so much more present? Or — no, no, Victoria told herself that was madness. Elpida had been deeply affected by the fight with Lykke, surely, or by Eseld’s recovery, not — not secret things with Kagami.

Victoria felt out of her depth. She couldn’t read this situation, the whole thing felt wrong.

She blurted out: “Is this really the time for this kind of conversation?”

Elpida raised her eyebrows. “Why’s that?”

“I mean … we’ve got so much to do. All the new weapons and equipment still needs sorting and stowing. All those corpses out there need stripping, for parts, and— and meat, of course, right. We need to make sure the newbies are okay. Eseld is barely there. Sky’s out cold. We need to be working on a plan, to either get out of here or weather the storm. Isn’t Kaga supposed to be figuring out how to plug herself into the tomb? And— and somebody has to interrogate Shilu. And … uh … ”Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

“This is all part of that,” Elpida said. She glanced at Kagami. “Did you tell her—”

“Nothing!” Kagami snapped. “Nothing!”

Victoria took a step back. Her ankles bumped the hatch. “I … just … uh, if you two … um, I don’t want to—”

Don’t want to know?

Don’t want to get in your way?

Yes, that was it. Victoria decided that was best, even though it made her feel sick. She didn’t want to get in their way.

She should have expected this, after all. Elpida — so tall and strong, confident and commanding, experienced and worldly; she was always going to open Kagami first, get her comfortable, crack that spiky shell. Victoria hadn’t failed, she’d just not moved fast enough; and how could she ever have hoped to? Elpida was a super soldier from the future, bred for this, one of a pack who bonded with sex and intimacy and comradeship beyond anything Victoria had known in life. Or perhaps Vicky had misunderstood the situation in the first place? Maybe she wasn’t what Kagami needed at all. Maybe she’d gotten it wrong from the start. Maybe she should have kept to herself, kept out of the way, kept her disgusting thoughts in private. Vicky wanted to melt away, go back to her maintenance work on Pheiri’s innards, hang out with the others, and leave these two to whatever intimacy they’d discovered. Step back, let them have it, get out of the way, pretend she never wanted it in the first place and—

“Victoria?” Elpida said, frowning softly. The meat-plants shivered and throbbed either side of her head. “Relax. Nothing is wrong. You’re here because Kagami trusts you more than anybody else. That’s why we wanted to talk to you first.”

“Y-yeah,” Vicky said. “I-I respect that, but—”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Kagami snapped, blazing bright red in both cheeks. “This is pathetic! Victoria, whatever sordid little fantasy has entered your primitive head, stop it! Stop thinking it!”

Victoria gaped at Kagami. “Wh-what—”

“Ha!” Elpida suddenly barked — no longer Elpida. Kaga and Vicky both flinched.

“Hahahahaa!” Howl cackled at some private joke, wide-eyed and grinning in a way Elpida never would. “You two! You two, holy fuckin’ shit, girls! You — Vickyyyyyy, come on, you thought Kaga and Elps had done the nasty, out there on the fuckin’ ground? Ha!” Another bark. “You two really need to fuck before you end up killing each other!”

“What?!” Vicky spluttered. “I didn’t—”

“Shut up!” Kagami snapped. “Shut up, shut—”

“Stop!” Elpida said, with Howl packaged back away behind her face. “Both of you, stop.”

Kagami clamped her mouth shut, fuming in silence. Victoria stood to attention; she felt the knot in her throat slowly give way. Her worst fears — ones she had not even considered fears until a few minutes ago — faded away.

“Commander,” she said.

Elpida waited a moment, then said: “I’ve half a mind to lock you two in here together until you work this out. With or without Howl’s specific suggestion.”

Kagami hissed: “Absolutely not—”

Elpida raised her voice. “But unfortunately I need both of you on point for this next move.”

“What move?” Vicky asked.

Elpida said: “Vicky, more often than not, you are functionally my second in command. That’s why I’m bringing you in on this as quickly as I can. I didn’t realise you felt any jealousy towards me. I hope you know there’s no cause for that.”

“I- yeah! Yeah, of course. Fuck, Elpi, I’m sorry. I just— my mind was running away with me. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted, but also there was no need for it.”

“Ha!” Kagami laughed. “Did you know that I’m both cynical and paranoid? Did you know that, Victoria? Apparently ‘suspicious’, too. What wonderful qualities I have!”

“What?”

Elpida sighed. “Kaga, that was nothing but a compliment. You have skills that I lack. And you’ve proved it.”

“But you, Vicky?” Kagami went on, ignoring Elpida. “Oh no, you’re so pure-hearted that it was just a little lapse of judgement, instantly forgiven. How lucky for you, you—”

“Kagami,” Elpida snapped. “Just switch on the privacy field so we can talk properly.”

“Fine, fine!”

Kagami flicked her left hand. Her six silver-grey drones rose from the workbench and floated outward — four to the corners of the floor, and the final two upward to the far ends of the ceiling, to form a hollow prism which filled the room. A crackle of soft static tickled Vicky’s ears. The iron tang of blood touched her tongue, quickly swallowed. The fury of the distant storm faded behind invisible electromagnetic walls.

“Thank you,” said Elpida. “You’re certain this works, inside Pheiri?”

“Absolutely,” Kagami snapped. “I tested it earlier. Our bodies are currently isolated from the nanomachine network. Nobody can listen, not even Pheiri. And yes, before you bleat about it, I have warned him. He knows what we’re up to.”

“Good,” Elpida said. “Now, Vicky, we’ve figured something out. Or, to give credit where credit is due, Kagami figured it out. All I did was ask the right questions. She’s the one with the relevant experience and skills. We want to bring you in on this, quietly.”

Vicky laughed. “Fuck me, Commander. You two couldn’t have been more cloak and dagger about this if you ambushed me in the dark. Isn’t this all a bit, I dunno, over the top?”

Elpida grinned — Howl, grinning through her. “S’what I said.”

Vicky said, “Why go to these lengths? What’s going on?”

Elpida blinked; Howl was gone again. “Kaga, this is your operation.”

Kagami sat up straighter in her chair. She raised her chin. Narrowed her eyes. “Victoria. All this was entirely necessary, yes. Why? Because there is a traitor among us.”

The crackle of the privacy field hummed in the air, almost inaudible beneath the distant howl of the storm. The meat-plants shivered and throbbed. Elpida took a deep breath, then sighed.

Vicky cleared her throat. “Okay? What, so, like back when you figured Pira for a traitor before the rest of us did?”

“And I was right about her!”

“Yeah, of course you were, fine.” Vicky sighed. “I wasn’t challenging that, I was agreeing with you. What’s happened now? Who is it?”

Kagami hesitated. “It’s … complicated.”

Vicky tried not to laugh “Yeah, I bet.”

Elpida said, “May I make a suggestion?”

Kagami huffed. “Yes, yes, fine.”

“Start the same way you did with me. Start with the storm. You convinced me, and Illy, and Atyle. You can convince Vicky, too.” Kagami kept her eyes averted, so Elpida carried on, now to Vicky: “I was having trouble figuring out our next moves. The storm, our new arrivals, Shilu, all of it wasn’t sitting right with me. Shilu is the obvious part, but she’s too obvious. I could get that far, but I struggled with the next step. I don’t have the skills for this kind of intrigue. Kagami does, so I turned to her, and she put the pieces together faster than I could.”

“Fine!” Kagami snapped. “Fine, I’ll do it, just … stop that, Commander. Stop treating me like I’m your court spymaster.”

Elpida shut her mouth; a smile lingered.

Kagami turned an insulted gaze on Vicky. “Are you going to sit down, Victoria? Or are you going to make me talk at you while you stand there cradling your grenade launcher?”

Vicky took the other seat and laid her AGL across her knees. “Alright, okay. Go ahead, Kaga. I’m all ears.”

Kagami took a deep breath. She closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, she wore a clear expression beneath a focused frown, framed either side by the messy dark of her hair. Victoria struggled not to smile; she found Kagami in her element very attractive.

“This hurricane makes no sense,” Kagami began. “And I don’t mean the mechanical properties, though those are absurd enough. This cannot possibly be a natural phenomenon. Hurricanes do not sustain themselves hundreds or thousands of miles inland, certainly not without seas from which to draw water, and not at nine hundred miles an hour. They also don’t pause overhead for hours on end, let alone for days or weeks, and yes, I strongly suspect this storm will last for weeks. There is no reason for the nanomachines to do this, no informational content or ecosystem direction within the storm itself. Atyle’s observations back that up, though I’m loathe to interpret her ramblings as data.” Kagami snorted. “Pira, Ooni, Serin, Ilyusha, they’ve all been around before, and none of them have seen anything like this. Pheiri has no records of hurricanes either, and he’s been around long enough to know. This is not chance, or process, or regular occurrence. Something is doing this, on purpose.”

Vicky nodded along. “It’s artificial, right. I get that much.”

Kagami jerked up a hand; she did not want interruptions. “It’s artificial, yes. Summoned via the network. But — and I want you to think about this question — who sent it?”

Victoria narrowed her eyes. “You’re doing a trick question on me, aren’t you?”

Elpida’s face split with a very un-Elpida-like grin: Howl again. She said, “You’re getting it gentle. Kaga was much rougher with us. Selfish!”

“Shut up!” Kagami snapped. “Let me walk her through this without the obscene peanut gallery.”

Howl slipped back behind Elpida’s expression. Elpida dipped her head.

“It’s a trick question,” Vicky repeated. “Right?”

“Just answer it,” Kagami said.

“Central, obviously. Central sent the hurricane.”

“And why? For what purpose?”

“To kill us, what else?”

Kagami smiled, with far too much satisfaction. “Wrong.” Victoria restrained a sigh. Kagami went on: “Central sent the physical assets after Thirteen Arcadia, but they always ignored us, and they ignored Pheiri. We’ve all seen the logs from Thirteen’s journey. If Central — whatever ‘Central’ really is — wanted us dead, we’d all be dust. Pheiri could not have fought off any of those things which hunted Thirteen. No, I don’t buy it. This hurricane was not sent to kill us, not by Central.”

Victoria shrugged; she tried not to pay too much attention to Elpida’s hidden smile. “Okay, sure.”

“We cannot know who sent this hurricane,” Kagami went on. “Shilu claims there is a ‘war’ inside the network, but she doesn’t know the sides, doesn’t know the forces, doesn’t know what the conflict is about. Perhaps another faction in that war sent the storm. But perhaps not. Maybe Shilu is lying. We can’t verify any of this. So, let us move upward a conceptual step — why was the hurricane sent?”

Vicky shrugged again. At least Kagami seemed to be enjoying herself for once.

“If it was sent to kill us, that’s a very inefficient method,” Kagami said. “Certainly not one I would use. A vast amount of energy, over a very wide area, with no way of confirming a kill. Pheiri could probably have outrun the storm, if we’d turned tail as soon as we saw it coming. So, what else did the hurricane achieve? I’ll tell you. It forced the graveworm to retract the worm-guard. That, in turn, allowed us access to the tomb. Without the hurricane to clear the way, we would not have made it in here. Do you see where I’m going with this, Victoria?”

Kagami paused, dark eyes blazing, chin high.

Vicky squinted. “You’re saying this was sent to help us?”

Kagami chopped the air with one hand. “Not necessarily. I believe it may have been sent to clear the way for us to access the tomb, to pull off a ‘tomb raid’, to reach the fresh meat before the predators did. And what did we find here?”

Victoria nodded. “Shilu. Right.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Kagami held up both hands. A real smile danced on her lips now. Victoria’s heart leapt to see that. “Shilu is only one possibility. Don’t jump too far in one leap. Focus on what we found. What did we find?”

“Two Necromancers, having a fight,” Victoria said; Kagami nodded with excitement. “Three newbies, fresh zombies. One of whom was Eseld, which is, yeah, really suspicious, right, I think I see—”

“Right, right,” Kagami interrupted, hands in the air again. “So, the storm gets us to the payload — either Shilu or Lykke or Eseld, or all of them together, I’ll get to that in a moment. But then? Then it stops!” Kagami punched the air. “It stops overhead, and stays there. Why?”

“To kill us?”

“No. No! Come on, Victoria, think! You are much smarter than you give yourself credit for. You are an engineer. You— She—” Kagami pointed at Elpida “—she couldn’t get it! But you can see this. I can’t be the only one around here with basic powers of social deduction. Think. Don’t make me do this alone.”

Victoria chewed her bottom lip. She really did want to justify Kagami’s belief in her.

“Because … because whatever the storm was sent to assist with, it’s not done yet.”

“Yes!” Kagami leapt upright in her seat, teeth together, eyes wild. “Yes. Exactly.” She took a series of deep breaths and subsided back into the blankets, panting, flushed in the face. “Whatever purpose the storm was dispatched for, it has not yet been completed. It is still in progress. Still ongoing.”

“Which is?”

Kagami wet her lips. She hesitated, losing some of her steam. Victoria clenched her hands together and stayed very still.

“I have two hypotheses,” Kagami said. “They may both be valid, they’re not mutually exclusive. Option one — the storm was sent to assist an attempt to disrupt us in some manner.”

“Shilu’s assassination attempt,” said Vicky. “And then she decided not to make the kill, right. So—”

“Yes, yes, but it could be something else,” Kagami snapped. “It could be part of an attempt to insert a spy, or a saboteur, or something else, within our ranks. I don’t know, and we cannot be sure. Not yet.”

“You think Shilu is a spy?”

Kagami shook her head. “No, not her. She’s too obvious.”

“Eh? Kaga, she’s a Necromancer.”

Kagami huffed and rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I forget you were limited to books and the occasional televisual broadcast, down there in your pre-NorAm rust and muck. This is basic drama sim writing! Think it through! We come bursting into the tomb on a rescue mission, and what do we find? Two Necromancers, one a practically cartoonish abomination, the other one a little bit weird, but no more than any other zombie. One is trying to kill the fresh meat, the other is protecting them. One helps us fight the other, thus winning the thinnest sliver of our confidence. It’s too obvious! Lykke was the bait, the jobber, the designated monster to get us on Shilu’s side. A child would know not to trust her. Amina knows not to trust her!”

“Hey, come on.” Vicky tutted. “Amina’s not stupid. Don’t use her like—”

Kagami wasn’t listening. “Ironic, really, isn’t it? The stupidity of that plan cancels it out. No, it’s not Shilu.”

“ … wait a sec, Kaga. You trust her?”

“Ha!” Kagami barked. “No. But I trust that she trusts herself. I think that full-borg combat doll out there is exactly what she appears to be. A reluctant assassin who refused her mission.” Kagami glanced at Elpida. “Though I can’t see exactly what convinced her not to go through with it, seeing as our Commander is a moron with a death wish.”

Elpida nodded a silent thank you.

Vicky said, “Hold up. If Shilu was a spy, or a saboteur, sent by Central, would she even have to know it herself?”

“Yes!” Kagami clicked her fingers and pointed at Vicky. “Yes, exactly. If Shilu is a mole, she wouldn’t even have to know it. In fact, that would be the perfect insertion method. Set her up against Lykke right in front of us, have all our suspicions out in the open, but then she herself doesn’t even know what she is. That is exactly how I would do it if I was Central, or if I was trying to get an agent inside a closed network. But, no.” Kagami shook her head, her animation subsiding. “Shilu is not connected to the network. Whatever or whoever sent her, she’s not passing back information.”

Vicky raised her eyebrows. “You confirmed that?”

Kagami sighed. “Atyle did, in her usual interminable fashion. But … ” She gestured vaguely.

Elpida spoke up. “Howl says the same. Shilu’s not networked, not like Lykke was. She’s embodied like us, just matter. All she’s got is the shape shifting trick. Very durable though. I wouldn’t want to go toe-to-toe with her up close, even in a hardshell.”

Vicky leaned back in her chair, hands on her AGL. “You think it’s one of the other three?”

Kagami raised a reasonable hand. “Eseld is also too obvious. You said that yourself, it’s plain to see. She’s been placed in our path, on purpose, perhaps to play on our Commander’s personal sympathies. Of course we would be suspicious of her resurrection. She’s a very poor choice for a spy. And her mere presence raises … further questions.”

“Yeah?” Vicky glanced at Elpida, worried about the Commander’s mental state. But Elpida seemed perfectly relaxed.

Kagami cleared her throat. “She may have been selected to sow internal division and distrust.”

“ … wait, what?”

Kagami seemed on the edge of snapping, but forced herself to speak slowly and clearly. “Think about it. Her resurrection, right in our path, implies that something or somebody is already watching us, perhaps literally, perhaps through the network. Even if it’s just ‘Central’.”

“Oh. Shit. Right.”

Vicky eyed Elpida again, openly this time. How could Elpida be so calm, when she’d been so obsessed with that girl and her unknown companions for weeks? Elpida had spent hours flicking through the images of that fight — that slaughter — and staring at those four fleshless skulls.

“Uh, Elpida, Commander, are you … okay with this?”

Elpida smiled. “I’m fine with this line of thinking, yes. This is why I came to Kagami in the first place. I’m not sure I could have made that leap myself. Eseld may be compromised. I’m willing to accept that.”

“Okay. That’s good, I guess.”

Elpida went on. “She may also have been sent to help us. She may be a sign, intended to snap me out of the state I’ve been in lately.”

Kagami clenched her teeth, visibly biting back a comment.

Vicky said, “Uh, good? Good. I mean, I’m glad you recognise it. But, sent by who?”

Elpida smiled with a relief Vicky had not seen on her in weeks. Elpida said: “By the same network entity who helped Howl. Telokopolis.”

Vicky nodded, but said nothing, afraid that the wrong word might shatter Elpida’s disposition. She shared a glance with Kagami and saw a mute warning reflected in Kaga’s eyes — don’t set her off. We’ll deal with this later. The Commander is more fragile than she looks.

“Uh,” Vicky said, trying to move on quickly. “So, what about Sky?”

Kagami recovered herself with a snort. “Also far too obvious. She took a beating at Lykke’s hands, and got physically compromised, to put it lightly. She may still be compromised, so of course we’re going to be watching her closely. No. Too unsubtle. The tactic of a fool.”

“Cyneswith?”

Kagami spread her hands. “She’s the only one left, the odd one out. Very ‘innocent’, with no comprehension of her situation. Again, too obvious! They’re all too obvious. All of them are suspect. None of them are safe, not for us. That’s why we’re using the privacy field. That’s why we’re keeping this quiet. We don’t want any of them to realise we’re going to make this move.”

Vicky sighed, then chuckled at how silly this felt. “So, we’re right back where we started?”

Elpida answered. “Not at all. Kagami’s deductions give us somewhere to start. We need to interrogate Shilu, and debrief the other three, to see if there’s anything we can glean.”

“Great.” Vicky sighed. “What do you suggest, Kaga? What would you do, if all this was happening back on the Moon?”

Kagami raised her chin. “Shoot all four of them.” Then she sighed. “But we’re not allowed to do that, are we, Commander?”

Elpida shook her head. “No executions. No killings. Not unless we have to.”

Vicky said, “Wait a sec, Kaga, you said you had two hypotheses about the storm. What’s the second?”

Kagami paused, suddenly uncomfortable. She swallowed. “I believe the storm may also be acting as an anti-access area denial weapon.”

“Which means … ?”

“The hurricane may be protecting us from Lykke’s return. Or from the arrival of additional Necromancers.”

Vicky went cold. “Necromancers? As in, more than one?”

“Yes.” Elpida nodded. “I’m inclined to agree with that assessment.”

Kagami spoke with her eyes on the wall. “If Shilu told us the truth about her encounters with Lykke, then whatever force was trying to stop Shilu, whatever force sent Lykke, it was trying to achieve this quietly and quickly, before we could arrive. The plan was probably to kill Shilu, kill all of the zombies in this batch, and then vanish before we turned up.”

“Which would have meant no Eseld,” Elpida added softly. “I never would have met her again. I think it all adds up.”

Kagami sighed. “Yes, fine. And, keeping this quiet?” She gestured at the ceiling, at the storm beyond the tomb. “That’s not an option anymore. If the storm is protecting us, then when it ends, we may find ourselves neck-deep in Necromancers. Ha!” Kagami barked a laugh, surprised at herself, but there was no humour in her voice. “Pun not intended. Not intended at all.”

Vicky swallowed. “Shit. Uh. Wait, I don’t … ”

Elpida cleared her throat. “If Eseld was inserted by Telokopolis, perhaps with the aim of helping to deflect Shilu’s assassination attempt, then Lykke was sent to stop that, to stop us linking up. When the storm passes, whichever player sent Lykke might decide to drop any pretence of subterfuge, and throw everything they have at us. We need to be prepared for that.”

Kagami let out a tight, shuddering sigh. “We don’t know this for certain, Commander! Vicky, we don’t know this for certain. At the moment all of this is conjecture, theory, hypothesis.”

Vicky tried to take a deep breath, to keep all this in perspective. “Alright. Okay. So, why are you telling me all this? Why now? Why me alone?”

Elpida grinned, not Howl. “Because we’re going to interrogate Shilu, and we need you to play along. I need your eyes and ears, and your judgement.”

“Me?”

Kagami said, “You make one hell of a ‘good cop’, Victoria. You don’t even have to try. That’s going to be your role.”

“Good cop bad cop?” Vicky laughed. “Against a Necromancer? Seriously? Commander, I’m a grease monkey, I don’t know anything about this.”

Elpida straightened up, framed by the crimson fronds of the meat-plants behind her head, like a halo of blood playing over her white hair.

“I don’t understand the terminology ‘good cop bad cop’,” Elpida said. “But Kagami explained the principle to me, and I recognise it well enough. Howl and I can force Necromancers back to the network, with a little bit of physical bullying. Shilu saw that herself, up close, so that makes me the ‘bad’ one, the threat.”

Vicky interrupted. “I thought you said you wouldn’t want to fight her?”

Elpida broke into a grin. “I don’t. And I can’t.”

“ … what?”

“Howl doesn’t think she can strip away Shilu’s shape shifting. It’s not something we can touch. I’m going to be bluffing.”

“Oh,” Vicky said, a sinking feeling in her stomach. “Oh shit, Elpi.”

“Oh shit is right,” Kagami grumbled.

“It’s the only leverage we have,” Elpida said. “But I’m hoping we won’t have to use it. This is where you come in, Vicky. You’re my second in command, and I mean that. You’re my right hand for this, the most reasonable and personable member of our cadre. You and I, and maybe a couple of others, with Kagami on overwatch. We’re gonna go figure out if Shilu is lying.”