“Remarkable, isn’t it? That bag of tricks the Empire planted in your head is all you know now. Can’t function without it.” He smiled a smile that was all teeth. “Now us, we may not all be a hundred per cent original human,” he said, and raised his claw demonstratively. “But we know our limits. No bloody transgenetic trickery in here!” and he pounded his chest with a clang.

“Not gene therapy… just… training,” said Lament weakly. The old man laughed.

“That’s what they told you! You trust too easily, yellowjacket! Me, I keep my ear to the ground. I know all about those ‘training’ camps!”

Lament was breathing easier now, and the feeling was starting to return to some of her extremities. She flexed her fingers, imagining the old man’s scrawny neck between them.

“Ooh she’s feeling feisty, boys!” said the old man, chomping on the cigar with some amusement. He looked up at Ballis, the giant. “Hit her again,” he said calmly.

Chapter Three