“Is that better?” The face attempted something that was more leer than smile. “I imagine it is; you come after all from the Outside World.” The capitals echoed ironically. He gestured across the room at the monitor screens. “A world beyond these tiny eyes and anything their mean little minds can dream of. Tell me, lieutenant, are we still at war for the raped, I mean raked, archaeologically rich and raked soil of our beloved planet?”

My eyes fell to the jack and the pulsing ruby light, then went back to his face.

“I’d like to have your full attention, commandant.”

For a long moment, he stared at me, then his head twisted down like something wholly mechanical, to look at the jacked-in cable.

“Oh,” he whispered. “This.”

Abruptly, he lurched round to face the sergeant, who was hovering just inside the door with two of the militia.

“Get out.”

The sergeant did so with an alacrity that suggested he hadn’t much wanted to be there in the first place. The uniformed extras followed, one of them gently pulling the door shut behind him. As the door latched, the commandant slumped back in his chair and his right hand went to the cable interface. A sound escaped his lips that might have been either sigh or cough, or maybe laughter. I waited until he looked up.

“Down to a trickle, I assure you,” he said, gesturing at the still winking light. “Probably couldn’t survive an outright disconnection at this stage in the proceedings. If I lay down, I’d probably never get up again, so I stay in this. Chair. The discomfort wakes me. Periodically.” He made an obvious effort. “So what, may I ask, do Carrera’s Wedge want with me? We’ve nothing here of value, you know. Medical supplies were all exhausted months ago and even the food they send us barely makes full rations.