Ziller chewed some more on his pipe. It had gone out. “Which means that Contact has already fixed this, doesn’t it?”

Tersono wobbled again. “Let’s just say that the wind has been tested.”

“Yes, let’s. Of course, this is always assuming that none of your ship Minds were lying.”

“Oh, they never lie. They dissemble, evade, prevaricate, confound, confuse, distract, obscure, subtly misrepresent and wilfully misunderstand with what often appears to be a positively gleeful relish and are generally perfectly capable of contriving to give one an utterly unambiguous impression of their future course of action while in fact intending to do exactly the opposite, but they never lie. Perish the thought.”

Ziller did a good stare, Kabe decided. He was quite glad that those big, dark eyes were not directed at him. Though, certainly, the drone seemed impervious.

“I see,” the composer said. “Well then, I suppose I might as well just stay put. I imagine I could just refuse to leave my apartment.”

“Why, of course. Not very dignified, perhaps, but that would be your prerogative.”

“Quite. But if I’m given no choice don’t expect me to be welcoming, or even polite.” He inspected the bowl of his pipe.

“That is why I asked Kabe to be here.” The drone turned to the Homomdan. “Kabe, we would be so grateful if you’d agree to help play host to our guest Chelgrian when he or she appears. You would be half of a double act with me, possibly with some assistance from Hub, if that’s acceptable. We don’t yet know how much time this will take up on a daily basis, or how long the visit will last, but obviously if it proved to be extended we would make additional arrangements.” The machine’s body tipped a few degrees to one side in the webwood chair. “Would you do this? I know it is a lot to ask and you needn’t give a definitive answer quite yet; sleep on it if you please and ask for any further information you’d like. But you would be doing us a great favour, given Cr Ziller’s perfectly understandable reticence.”