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princess, anyway?’
    ‘I don’t really know. Perhaps she’s put up the cash to charter a ship instead of waiting for a liner and buying passage like anybody else.’
    ‘Very expensive, that. You don’t make that kind of money selling mung beans. And she can hardly be running from the law – everything’s legal on New Fran as it is. To be honest, I’ve been planning on adding Mary Jane to the crew roster myself.’
    ‘Who’s that? Sounds like an aunt.’
    ‘More a soul-mate. Never mind.’
    ‘Rhianna Mitchell may be a dissident. There’s a lot of people coming to the Empire from the neutral states these days, what with the Ghasts re-arming and everything.’
    ‘True.’ She took a swig of her tea. ‘Ugh! If you ask me, as soon as those spidery buggers have enough ships, they’re coming straight for Earth.’
    ‘They’d better not. If they make for London they’ll find something special waiting for them, and it won’t be a souvenir T-shirt, that’s for damned sure. Bloody Ghasts. That’s the trouble with aliens – they’re all bloody foreign.’
    Carveth shook up the paperweight, watching the snow swirl around Parliament. ‘These neutral colonies are in serious trouble if it all kicks off,’ she said. ‘Still, I don’t think we’ll be in any danger with this Rhianna woman on board.’
    ‘No?’
    ‘Of course not. If they thought there would be trouble, they’d send something decent to pick her up, not this bucket of rust.’
    ‘Good point. I thought it was supposed to have a refit before we left.’
    Carveth shrugged. ‘It has – of a sort. It’s got a new supralux engine fitted – a big one. We go twice the speed in half the style. Shame they couldn’t put a half-decent drinks machine in at the time.’
    ‘That’s odd.’
    ‘Well, yes, it is. In layman’s terms, this ship probably used to fly like a pig. Now it flies like a pig with a firework up its bum. I’m not sure which is better.’
    Smith nodded. ‘Well, it’s all a bit strange, if you ask me. You don’t know anything about this mission, and I’m the captain and I don’t either. Doesn’t that strike you as surprising?’
    ‘Half of it certainly does. Still, I suppose we’ll find out when we get there. Would you mind taking the controls while I ablute?’
    ‘Not at all. We’re on course, aren’t we?’
    ‘Oh yes. Just watch for trouble. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,’ she added from the door. ‘And don’t crash the spaceship, either.’

2 Smith Meets Some Gentle People

    The needle dropped in the speedometer. In the civilised tones of a BBC announcer, the ship’s computer said, ‘We are now approaching the target destination. Deceleration has been commenced.’
    Carveth returned. ‘What’s going on?’
    ‘We’re getting close. The retros are on.’
    ‘Great.’ She sat back down. ‘You want me to say hello?’
    ‘Please do.’
    She unclipped the microphone. ‘This is the John Pym , British Empire commercial light transport vessel 28 – dammit, they’ve put me in a queue.’
    ‘Let me try. Put it on the speaker.’
    Carveth flicked a switch. Light, insipid music filled the room. ‘Bossa Nova,’ Carveth said.
    ‘At least it’s not that bloody Strauss again. I suppose we have to wait.’
    Suruk entered the control room. ‘Ah, music,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Am I interrupting a mating ritual?’
    ‘No!’ they replied.
    ‘Is that our destination?’
    ‘Yep,’ the pilot said. In the windscreen they could make out the shape of the colony. It was the shape of a starfish trying to mate with a can of beans. Down each of the starfish’s arms, little grey shapes were anchored to the station: spacecraft, many of them several hundred metres long. Smith squinted at the display as they drew closer. He could recognise many of them, representatives of the human Great Powers and the alien races of Known Space. Most would be refuelling, for New Fran made much of its money from providing services to