“He can’t touch you without a majority in the expeditionary council,” Cal said.

“No, he couldn’t,” Janequin said. “If that was how he was going to do it. But Dan’s information is right. It looks as if Girardieau may be planning on more direct action.”

“That would be tantamount to some kind of… coup, I suppose.”

“I think that would be the technical term,” Janequin said.

“Are you sure?” Then Calvin did the concentration thing again, dark lines etching his brow. “Yes… you could be right. A lot of media speculation in the last day concerning Girardieau’s next move, and the fact that Dan’s off on some dig while the colony stumbles through a crisis of leadership… and a definite increase in encrypted comms among Girardieau’s known sympathisers. I can’t break those encryptions, of course, but I can certainly speculate on the reason for the increase in traffic.”

“Something’s being planned, isn’t it?” Sluka was right, he thought to himself. In which case she had done him a favour, even as she had threatened to abandon the dig. Without her warning he would never have invoked Cal.

“It does look that way,” Janequin said. “That’s why I was trying to reach you. My fears have only been confirmed by what Cal says about Girardieau’s sympathisers.” His grip tightened on the railing. The cuff of his jacket—hanging thinly over his skeletal frame—was patterned with peacocks’ eyes. “I don’t suppose there’s any point my staying here, Dan. I’ve tried to keep my contact with you below suspicious levels, but there’s every reason to think this conversation is being tapped. I shouldn’t really say any more.” He turned away from the cityscape and the hanging obelisk, then addressed the seated man. “Calvin… it’s been a pleasure to meet you again, after such a long time.”