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Maximus nearly came unstuck. The slower neurotransmitters had attempted to leak a back-up alarm to Oracle’s ‘process conceptualisation’ folder.
    Oracle’s AI was also difficult to penetrate, he now knew, because the quantum computing core, stuffed with miniaturised anti and modulated magnets, algorithm-reduction spin glasses and microwave drives, operated as a kind of ‘deep thought’ for code making. It sought large numbers and organic/non-organic engineering modelling of quantum effects, while the human-style outer core had back-up security libraries in each compartment of its brain. Luckily for Maximus, even Oracle had to obey the basic tech laws of AI. The AI was not allowed to access private information without human RIM permission, only public information and sensory data from its robot extension was legitimate. This suited Maximus. The only being that should be invading other people’s privacy was, of course, himself.
    Nobody and nothing beat him. Not permanently. Certainly not a giant data library with attitude and control of its own robot police. Quantum-bit teleportation from Oracle to its robot was extensive, so it might be clunking around nearby.
    Fortunately, Maximus had an ally. Kilroy was a former assassin Maximus had found rotting in an outworld dungeon and liberated. Kilroy had been on a fast transit mission to Se’atma Minor. After eliminating the assigned targets on his last ‘official’ mission, he had been caught and subjected to a neural lobotomy. But it had an unexpected result: instead of leaving him a happy law-abiding citizen it had removed the last vestiges of humanity from his soul.
    This made him the perfect ally for Maximus.
    Now Kilroy’s mission was simple and twofold. To fabricate an incriminating incident involving Anneke Longshadow, complete with witnesses, and then to kill Anneke Longshadow.
    Not necessarily in that order, whatever was convenient.
    By the time Kilroy completed the secondary part of his mission, a character time bomb would be ticking away on Se’atma Minor. All Maximus had to do was activate it, utterly discrediting Longshadow, and any allegations she might make from the grave.
    Black savoured that thought.
    Then he began fretting again. Colonel Viktus had assumed command of the task force appointed to examine Longshadow’s allegations. Viktus was Longshadow’s uncle and her adoptive father. Nobody had complained about a conflict of interest, and so Maximus did not think it worth the risk.
    And if it wasn’t a coincidence? What did
that
mean?
    Maximus checked himself in the wall length holo-mirror of his cramped cadet officer’s quarters. His holo-duplicate straightened his uniform, flicked lint from one barely levitating shoulder epaulet, made his shoes mirror shiny, and turned towards the door.
    Then he stopped and turned back. Something was wrong. He peered closely at his own reflection. His jaw tightened. A faint prickle of sweat glistened on his upper lip.
    Giveaway!
    He lunged forward, twisting his body just so, pistoning out his arm, snap-twisting the wrist, and connecting the holomirror with the hardened calloused edge of his hand. The holomirror control crystal shattered.
    He stepped back, pleased, feeling no pain, just grim satisfaction.
    The holomirror was there to serve him, not betray him. He felt looser now, lighter. He wiped his upper lip and took a chill pill. It would lower his body temperature by a degree or so, leaving him relaxed and ready.
    Then he headed for his meeting with Colonel Viktus.
A hard ass if ever there was one
.

    â€˜Sit down, son,’ said Viktus, after Maximus had entered the room and snapped to attention. ‘Relax. This is an informal chat, nothing fancy.’
    Maximus let himself relax slightly. He sat down in the chair indicated, keeping his back straight, his chin out. Informality with one’s superiors was frowned upon, even when they invited it. Safer to