In one hand the creature held its pointed stick – a pale wand of sharpened wood. It was so slender in the hairy hand that Paul wondered how it could possibly be lethal. And yet it would have been. Behind the Hunter the grasses waved silently. ‘Search all routines that were running at zero eight: zero four: zero one zero two,’ said Paul. ‘Report anything that might have corrupted radio transmission to Earth.’ The Hunter looked at him, unblinking. ‘There was nothing,’ it said. ‘Nothing? You are sure?’ ‘I have searched three million one thousand six hundred and eighty-two routines. All were benign.’ ‘A radio message containing data on the tail was sent to Earth at zero eight: zero four: zero one zero two,’ Paul insisted. ‘It was corrupted, like all radio transmissions concerning the tail before it. Was this an accident, was it natural, or was it deliberate?’ ‘It is highly likely that it was deliberate.’ Paul let out his breath. ‘I agree. But it was not done by an automatic routine?’ ‘No.’ ‘You are saying it was manual?’ ‘It is highly likely.’ Manual!
