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body-heat signature altered? What’s happened to you?’
    The abrupt change in questioning made the corners of Ev’r’s mouth jerk and the skin beneath one eye twitch. Ev’r swallowed slowly and held the commander’s stare. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
    The commander nodded. ‘You know, Keets, before they execute you, I can have your mind purged. I will see everything you know, everything you’ve seen, one way or another. I can hold you here for seven day-cycles with an Assistant to Investigation order, after which time, if you don’t give us anything to present to the courts, palace enforcers will come for you – and then it will be too late.’
    ‘It’s already too late.’ Ev’r finally spoke. ‘For everyone.’
    She turned her face away from the commander and he said, ‘Think, Keets. You of all people should know there are bad ways to die and there are tolerable ways. Your crimes have brought you to this place where you have no control over the time, but you can choose the way. It could be painless. That’s more than most people get. Think about it. We’ll be back.’
    *****
    Eli deactivated his security system and waved the others into his office laboratory. A vast organised jumble of machinery bits and pieces, computer parts and partially made inventions shared space with countless collections of odds and ends, anything Eli could lay his hands on. In one corner, behind glass, he kept his antique paper books, his written word – almost-extinct relics from an era long past. Each book was well used, well loved and holographically stored in his memory. Sensing she was back in her own territory, Nelly shot out of his pocket, up his body, and jumped onto one of his long workbenches. She raced up and down, dodging piles of objects, chiding Eli in a high chattering voice. The sound of her scurrying claws syncopated with the clicks, ticks and taps of his equipment and inventions. Eli noticed Nelly instinctively avoided the area where his latest weaponry advance sat in a transparent box. It was skunk bombs, made from the excretions of skunk-heritage human-breeds. His donors had been very happy that their socially offensive spray could now be put to a good use. Nelly bounded from the bench onto her table, where she snatched a pinkfin fish from her dish and, snapping it down, dived into her pool.
    The commander offloaded Keets’ bag onto the table beside Eli. He noticed Copernicus was keeping his eyes down, not wanting to view the mess Eli called home. He didn’t feel offended. He held the belief each to their own . The boss liked extreme organisation; he liked productive chaos.
    ‘I’ll set the liquids to analyse now,’ Eli told him. He reached into Keets’ bag and withdrew the vial of green potion and anything else liquid he could find. The bottle and vials clanked in his hands as he hurried to the far end of his office and put them into his compound-assessor. He shut the glass door and pressed the setting he desired – stage 7, deep and thorough analysis. He knew it would take that level of analysis to ascertain the ingredients of Keets’ concoctions. She was known to use products sourced from places most people would never dare to tread in a billion years.
    Opening the cooler beside the compound-assessor, Eli searched for some ice for Silho’s head. He thought it would be a nice gesture, but all he had was a bag of raw bones he was storing to give to the Headquarters’ guard dogs later that night. He abandoned the search and turned back to the others.
    Diega was pacing, swearing about Ev’r Keets, while Jude sat on one of Eli’s patched and mismatched lounges. The chair creaked unhappily under his bulk. He sighed and massaged his neck and Eli sensed his friend’s unease. Silho stayed near the door, watching the ground.
    The commander was talking on his communicator to the Custody Superior with instructions on how to house and contain Keets for the next week. Observing the