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you’re so insistent?’
    ‘I have to make sure how she died,’ she replied evenly. ‘That it wasn’t something else.’

    ‘Something else?’ Under different circumstances Clemens might have been insulted. ‘I hate to be repetitious about a sensitive subject, but it’s quite clear that her cylinder was breached and that she drowned.’ He considered. ‘Was she your daughter?’
    ‘No,’ Ripley replied evenly, ‘she wasn’t my daughter. My daughter died a long time ago.’
    As she spoke her eyes avoided his. But of course she was still weak and had to concentrate on the narrow, spiraling steps.
    ‘Then why this need?’
    Instead of answering directly she said, ‘Even though we weren’t related, she was very close to me. You think I want to see her the way you’ve described her? I’d much rather remember her as she was. I wouldn’t ask to do this if it wasn’t damned important to me.’
    He started to reply, then stopped himself. Already he knew that Ripley wasn’t the sort of person you could force a reply from. If she was going to tell him anything it would come in her own good time.
    He unlocked the entrance and preceded her inside. A bottom drawer responded to his official key code and slid open on silent rollers. She moved up to stand alongside him and together they gazed down at the peaceful, tiny body.
    ‘Give me a moment. Please.’
    Clemens nodded and walked across the room to fiddle with a readout. Occasionally he turned to watch as his companion examined the little girl’s corpse. Despite the emotions that had to be tearing through her, she was efficient and thorough.
    When he thought a decent amount of time had passed, he rejoined her.

    ‘Okay?’ He expected a nod, perhaps a last sigh. He most definitely did not expect what she finally said.
    ‘No. We need an autopsy.’
    ‘You’re joking.’ He gaped at her.
    ‘No way. You think I’d joke about something like this? We have to make sure how she died.’ Ripley’s eyes were steel-hard.
    ‘I told you: she drowned.’ He started to slide the body drawer back, only to have her intervene.
    ‘I’m not so sure.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I want you to cut her open.’
    He stared at her in disbelief. ‘Listen to me. I think you’re disoriented. Half your system’s still in cryosleep.’
    ‘Look,’ she said in a thoroughly no-nonsense tone, ‘I have a very good reason for asking this and I want you to do it.’
    ‘Would you care to share this reason?’ He was very composed.
    She hesitated. ‘Isn’t it enough that I’m asking?’
    ‘No, it is not. “Request of close personal friend” won’t cut it with Company inspectors. You’ve got to do better than that.’
    He stood waiting, impatient.
    ‘All right,’ she said finally. ‘Risk of possible contagion.’
    ‘What kind of “contagion”?’ he snapped.
    She was clearly reaching. ‘I’m not the doctor. You are.’
    He shook his head. ‘You’ll have to do better than that.’
    ‘Cholera.’ She eyed him squarely. Her determination was remarkable.
    ‘You can’t be serious. There hasn’t been a case reported in two hundred years. C’mon, tell me another. Never turn down a good laugh in this place. Smallpox, maybe? Dengue fever?’
    ‘I am telling you. Cholera. I was part of the combat team that nuked Acheron. They were experimenting with all kinds of mutated bacterial and viral strains in what was supposed to be a safe, closed environment. Maybe you know about some of the Company’s interests. The infection got loose and . . . spread. It was particularly virulent and there was no effective antidote.
    Nor could the infection be contained, though the people there tried.’
    ‘So they nuked the place? Seems like a pretty extreme prescription. Of course, we don’t hear much out here, but it seems to me we would have heard about that.’
    ‘Really? I guess you don’t work for the same Company I do.
    Or maybe you did hear. Your superintendent doesn’t strike me