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‘They still have it, but it’s a local serfdom racket. You become indentured and almost never manage to pay back what you owe.’ He nodded, as if he heard everything she said, but Anneke knew he hadn’t. He was off in a memory that looked painful.
    ‘Tell me everything that happened there,’ said Maximus suddenly, pouring himself more coffee.
    Anneke did so, or almost everything. She left out personal details; the name of the woman who helped her escape, her ‘owner’, Roklegg. She did not know why, but she was reluctant to pass on too much information to Black, as if she suspected he might use it against her.
    ‘You haven’t told me everything,’ he said when she’d finished. Nobody said he wasn’t astute.
    Anneke shrugged. ‘It’s all I remember.’
    ‘I see.’
    ‘How old were you on Tormat when you were kidnapped by offworld slavers?’
    Maximus sprang to his feet, his face twisting. ‘Who told you that?’
    ‘You did. Just now.’ She frowned. ‘Why the surprise? Isn’t that what RIM training does for you? I was trained, even if I can’t remember by whom.’
    Maximus struggled to regain composure. When he had, he sat down again. Anneke noted that an iciness had settled over him. It was almost frightening how in control he became, as if he had found, and flipped off, an inner switch.
    ‘We’re not here to discuss my life story, just yours. Are you sure you haven’t left out anything I need to know?’
    ‘I’ve given you the facts and pertinent data.’
    ‘Good.’
    ‘Now what?’
    ‘Now you lay low for a few days to see if your memory comes back naturally. If not, I’ll bring in a specialist and try stimulating it.’
    That was not going to happen. Anneke nodded. ‘The sooner the better. I feel like I’ve got a big hole in my head.’
    Maximus smiled. ‘Well, we’ll have to fix that.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I have to go. This place is fully stocked with food and drink. There’s a viewscreen behind that panel and a fully encrypted computer workstation in the next room. It wouldn’t be wise to go outside. For any reason whatsoever.’
    ‘Until you tell me.’
    ‘I am your handler, Anneke. What I say, goes.’
    ‘Fine, but I should tell you that my threshold for boredom is quite low.’
    Maximus stood. ‘Read a book.’ He gestured to a book bank. ‘Every book written in the last century. Have fun.’
    He left by a different door from the one they had entered. Suddenly Anneke was alone with her thoughts – and the ‘hole’ in her memory. She did not know if she trusted Black or not. She did know that the internal amnesic feeling of being adrift, of having no anchors, moved her to grab frantically for any explanation. It was hard to resist the sheer primal need to fill in the blanks.
    She went to the workstation to catch up on public events, paying particular attention to the local political situation. The breakup of the Majoris Corporata was getting a lot of air time, as was the formation of two new opposing forces from the debris of the breakup: the Imperial Myotan Combine and the rumours of a budding Quesadan Confederation.
    Everybody was holding their breath to see which way the wind was blowing: Clans and Companies weren’t rushing to join either side, not till one got the upper hand. No point throwing your lot in with the losers , thought Anneke, and so far there was no winning side, not according to the local pundits.
    After that she had a long, hot and luxurious bath, scrubbing herself clean with exotic bath lotions possessing alien-sounding names, and washing and braiding her hair. Then she stood in front of a large mirror, inspecting the wound on her thigh. It was healing nicely, though the skin around it had slightly puckered. She would have to get cosmetic renovation on it at some point. Not a good idea being a secret agent with an identifiable mark on one’s body.
    It was like having a laser sign attached to you.
    Not that it mattered. They attacked that night,