“You sure about this?” Monty asked, staring at the list scrolling slowly down the small screen as he sat at the kitchen table, the light waning through the plexi-dome over the seating area.

“Pretty gorram sure.” Mal had gone over Simon’s discovery of the micro-programme on the Culver diamond, and what they had surmised about the people on it.

“’Cause there’s a few names I recognise on here.”

“Me too.”

“And they’re all due to be killed?” It wasn’t so much a question as a statement.

Mal swirled the rice wine around his mug, the subtle perfume of smooth and very expensive alcohol reaching his nostrils. “It’s the conclusion we’ve come to.”

Monty downed his in one gulp, welcoming the burn. “ Tah muh duh .”

“Yeah.”

“Shit, Mal, why’re some folks such bastards?” He picked up the bottle and poured another slug into his mug.

“You’d need to ask someone brighter’n me to tell you that.” Mal nodded at the bottle. “And that stuff’s too good to be knocking it back like that.”

Taking a deep breath and exhaling noisily, Monty nodded. “I know. It’s just …”

“Yeah. But I got some gutrot in a cupboard somewhere if all you want to do is take off the inside of your stomach.”

Monty grunted half a laugh. “No, this is good.” He sighed. “We’ll get the word out, fast as we can. Soon as we’re away, don’t you worry about that. And Colby might only have the use of one arm at the moment, but he’s pretty good at underhanded Cortex dealings – nobody’s gonna know where it came from.”

“Thanks.”

“But I’m guessing I’m not the only ones you’re contacting.”

“No. Hank’s gonna look at a way of getting the info to Dillon, maybe to Theo Hawkins, Jez Thacker. Maybe he should talk to Colby, see if they can’t come up with something together. Then there’s Alex, Frey’s brother. He might be able to contact those who’re a mite higher up.”

“Freya know you’re planning on getting him involved?”

“Nope. And I’d be grateful if you didn’t tell her, not quite yet. I’d like to break it gentle.”

“B