The Dreaming Void

FOUR

The glitch had been surprisingly easy to find. But then Troblum supposed Emily Aim didn't have a lot of time to insert it, nor would she suspect he'd come looking, at least not right away. She'd made several modifications to the blueprint; in itself each one was relatively innocuous which made them even harder to spot, but the cumulative effect was enough to throw the binding effect out of kilter. It was less than an hour's work for him to remove them. Then he restarted the production process.

With that underway, his u-shadow established a secure onetime link back to his apartment. Now he knew that Marius was trying to manipulate him, and would go to any lengths to achieve what he wanted, Troblum knew he needed an escape route. There was only one which would put him beyond even the representative's reach: the colonies. After the Starflyer War each of the old Dynasties had been left with a fleet of redundant lifeboats, starships capable of evacuating the entire senior strata of each 1)ynasty to the other side of the galaxy where they would have been safe had the Prime alien won. Given the phenomenal amount of money poured into their construction, the Dynasty leaders were never going to scrap them simply because the Commonwealth was victorious. Instead, the lifeboats set off to found new worlds and cultures completely independent of the Commonwealth. Over forty ships had launched, though even that figure was ambiguous; the Dynasty leaders were reluctant to admit how much money they'd poured into their own salvation at the expense of everyone else. In the following centuries, more colony ships had set forth. No longer exclusive to Dynasties, they had carried an even broader selection of beliefs, families and ideologies seeking to break free to a degree which even the External Worlds could never offer. The last major departure had been in AD 3000, when Nigel Sheldon himself led a fleet of ten starships, the largest craft ever built, to set up a 'new human experience' elsewhere. It was strongly rumoured at the time that the ships had a trans-galactic flight range.

With the ultra-secure link established to his apartment, Trob-lum used a similarly guarded connection for his u-shadow to trawl the Unisphere for the possible destinations of the colony ships within this galaxy. There were over a hundred departures listed, and subsequently thousands of articles presented on each of them. A lot of those articles speculated on why not one colony had got back in touch, even if it was only for a 'so there' message. Certainly there was no records of any Navy starships stumbling across a human world anywhere else in the galaxy, not that they'd ever explored a fraction of a per cent of the available Incongruous stars. Of course, it was the core of Living Dream dogma that most, if not all, such voyages had wound up inside the Void. However, a lot of genuine academic work had gone into estimating probable locations, despite the best efforts of the dwindling Dynasties to suppress such work. Even assuming the studies were correct, the areas that needed to be searched were vast, measuring hundreds of lightyears across. But Mellanie's Redemption was a fine ship, she should be able to make the trip out to the Drasix cluster, fifty thousand lightyears away, where the Brandt Dynasty ships were said to have flown.

Troblum knew he wouldn't miss the Commonwealth, there was nobody he had any attachment to, and most of the colony worlds would have a decent level of civilization. If he did find the Brandt world, they would presumably be glad to accept his knowledge of biononics which had been developed long after their ships had departed. That just left the problem of what to do with his Starflyer War artefacts. He couldn't bear to be parted with them, yet if he transported them to the hangar, Marius might notice. He began instructing the apartment net on shipping arrangements, then made a painful call to Stubsy Florae.

The Neumann cybernetics took thirty-two hours to produce a planet-shifting ftl engine. Troblum stood underneath the sparkling cylinder as the terminal extruder finished, marvelling at its elegance. His field functions reported a dense knot of energies and hyperstressed matter all in perfect balance. So much exotic activity was present it almost qualified as a singularity in its own right.

If the colony doesn't want biononics, they'll surely want this.

He watched in perfect contentment as force fields manoeuvred the cylinder into Mellanie's Redemption. The modified forward cargo hold closed, and Troblum sent the device into standby mode. Nobody would be able to break the command authority encryption, not even ANA he suspected. The device was his and his alone.

Once it was safe and shielded he went back into the office and restored Emily Aim's glitches to the blueprint, then began adding some of his own, at a much deeper function level. Now the engine really was unique.

Marius called several hours later. 'Have you finished your analysis yet?

'Just about. I think I'm going to have to initiate a complete re-design of the exotic stress channels.

'That sounds bad and I don't even know what you're talking about.

'It's not good, no.

'I'm sure our funds will cover it. But for now I need a small favour.

'Yes?

'I want you to take a colleague to our station.

'A passenger? Troblum asked in alarm. If there was someone else on board, he would never be able to fly free. With a growing sense of dismay he realized that was probably the whole idea. Had Marius detected something? He would have sworn nothing could get through his encryption, but then ultimately he was dealing with an ANA Faction.

'Problem? Your ship can accommodate more than one person, and it's a relatively short flight. We're still inside the Commonwealth, after all.

There was a definite implication in that. 'Not a problem. I'll need to flight prep.

'That shouldn't take more than an hour. Bon voyage.

There had been no polite enquiry as to whether he was ready, in fact it was more like an order. Annoyance warred with a slight curiosity. What do they need me for so urgently?

'Troblum?

'Wha—? Troblum twisted round as fast as his bulk would allow. There was a man standing in the office, a very tall man whose skeletal skull was frizzed by a stubble of ginger hair. He wore a simple grey suit that emphasized exceptionally long limbs. 'Who the fuck are you? Troblum's biononics had instantly cloaked him in a defensive force field, now his one weapons enrichment was active and targeting the intruder.

'I'm Lucken. I believe you're expecting me?

'You're…

'Your passenger, yes. Is the ship ready?

'How did you get in?

Lucken's face remained completely impassive. 'Do you require assistance to prepare for flight?

'Ah, no.

'Then please begin.

Troblum adjusted the front of his old toga suit in angry reaction to the arrogant imposition. 'The umbilicals are already attached. We'll leave as soon as the tanks are full. Do you want to go to your cabin?

'Are you embarking now?

'No. I have important work here to complete.

'I will wait. I will accompany you on board.

'As you wish. Troblum settled back in his chair, and reactivated the solido projectors. Just to show how indifferent he was. Lucken didn't move. His eyes never left Troblum. It was going to be a long flight.

The station was a real flight into nostalgia. It had been fifty years since Troblum saw it last, and he never thought he'd be back — in fact he was rather surprised it was still intact. Mellanie's Redemption took three days to fly from Arevalo to the unnamed red dwarf star. There were no planets, solid or gas, orbiting the weak speck of ruddy light, just a large disc of mushy hydrocarbon asteroids. There were less now than there had been when he first came to work here. He smiled when he remembered that test sequence. It was the last time he'd been genuinely drunk, and hadn't cared what a fool he was making of himself.

Mellanie's Redemption dropped out of hyperspace ten AUs away from the star and eight thousand kilometres directly above iheir destination. Troblum accelerated in at seven gees, heading straight for the centre of the dark torroid that measured five kilometres in diameter. A squadron of defence cruisers shed their stealth effect and soared around the starship in fast tight turns. They were over a hundred metres long, like quicksilver droplets frozen in mid-distortion to produce bodies of warped ripples sprouting odd pseudopod crowns. Their flight was so elegant and smooth they resembled a shoal of aquatic creatures cavorting with a newcomer. However, there was nothing playful about the quantum level probes directed at the Mellanie's Redemption. Troblum held his breath as he waited to see if the sophisticated shielding around the forward hold would deflect the scan. It did, but then he'd helped design the cruisers — seventy years ago now. I le found it interesting that nothing new had been produced in the intervening decades. Human technology was edging ever closer to its plateau. Emily Aim was probably right about her time in the Navy; given their knowledge base there was nothing new in the universe, just innovative variants on that which already existed.

The cruisers escorted them in to the station. Mellanie's Redemption fell below the rim of the torroid, and slid along the broad internal tube, which was almost as long as its diameter. Observing the structure through the starship's modest sensor net Troblum could see that vast sections had been reactivated. The titanium-black fuselage was covered in long slender spikes as if a sharp frost had settled across the whole station. The majority of spikes were translucent blue-white; though in among them, seemingly at random, several of the smaller ones were glowing with a low crimson light, as if they'd caged a few of the photons from the nearby sun.

Troblum piloted Mellanie's Redemption to the base of a red spike which measured nearly seven hundred metres long. A hangar door was open and waiting for them. When it closed, he couldn't help but think of the door to an antique jail cell slamming shut.

'Thank you for flying Troblum Lines, and have a pleasant day, he said cheerily.

Lucken opened the airlock and went outside. The man hadn't spoken a single word since they'd embarked. Hadn't slept, either, just sat in the central cabin the whole time. He'd vanished by the time Troblum activated a small case and pulled his emerald cloak on. Mellanie's Redemption looked small and inadequate inside the giant shiny-white cavity. White tubes had wormed out of the floor to plug into her umbilical sockets. There was no sign of the external door or indeed a way into the station. As Troblum walked along the curving floor, gravity shifted to accommodate him so he was always standing vertical. The whole effect was quite disorientating on a visual level.

A woman was waiting for him under the starship's nose. She was his height, completely hairless, with large perfectly round eyes that dominated her flat face. Her neck was long, over twenty centimetres, but invisible behind a sheath of slim gold rings, as if it was some kind of segmented metallic limb. All of her skin had the surface shimmer of a toga suit tuned to steel-grey. Troblum assumed her skin had actually been biononically modified, the effect was so tight around her. A lot of Highers close to download chose to experiment with physiological modifications.

'Greetings, she said in a pleasant, almost girlish voice. 'I've heard a lot about you.

'Sadly I can't return the compliment, he said, reading off the protocol behaviour program showing in his exovision.

'I'm Neskia, I run the station. My predecessor was most favourable in his assessment of your abilities. Our Faction would like to thank you for returning.

As if I had a choice. 'All very well, but why exactly am I here? Is the swarm malfunctioning?

'Not at all. She gestured gracefully, her neck curving in a fluidly serpentine motion to keep her face aligned on him as she started walking. Troblum followed her along the curve, his case hovering just behind his head. Up above them, a circular door irised open. The station's internal nature had certainly changed in seventy years.

'Oh.

'You sound disappointed, she said and hesitated by the door.

Troblum wasn't sure if the circle had flipped out of the curve to stand upright or if the local gravity manipulation was even weirder than his ordinary senses told him. He refused to verify with a field scan. Disorientation attempts were really very childish. 'Not disappointed. I assume I'm here to inspect and validate the swarm, just in case the worst case Pilgrimage scenario proves true. There have been a few recent advances which could be used to upgrade.

'The swarm has dispersed to its deployment point. It has been constantly upgraded. We don't anticipate the Void's expansion to pose any problem.

'Really? So that's why you kept this station going.

'Among other things. She stepped through the door and into a corridor that had the old simple grey-blue layout which Troblum recognized. They hadn't changed everything.

'I've assigned you a suite in sector 7-B-5, Neskia said. 'You can have it modified to your own tastes, just tell the station smartcore what you want.

'Thank you. And the reason I'm here?

'We are building twelve ultradrive engines to power the Pilgrimage fleet. Your experience in the assembly techniques we are using is unmatched.

Troblum stopped abruptly, his case almost banging into the back of his head. 'Ultradrive?

'Yes.

You mean it's real? I always assumed it was just a rumour.

'It isn't. You'll be working with a small team, fifty or so experts have been recruited. The Neumann cybernetics that built the swarm will handle the actual fabrication.

'Fascinating. His bleak mood at being blackmailed and bullied actually began to lift. 'I'll need to see the theory behind the drive.

'Of course. Her huge eyes blinked once. 'We'll brief you as soon as you've settled in.

'I'm settled right now.

Araminta waited in the flat until Shelly arrived to take full legal possession. She didn't have to do it, Cressida's firm was tackling the sale registration — which meant nothing had gone wrong. But supervising the handover in person added that little professional touch; and in business, reputation was a commodity which couldn't be bought.

She watched from the balcony as Shelly's capsule landed on the designated pad outside, followed by a larger cargo capsule which used the public pad. The flat seemed strangely unattractive now Araminta had moved the dressing furniture out, all carefully chosen pieces that emphasized how spacious and contemporary the property was.

'Is everything all right? Shelly asked as Araminta opened the door.

'Yes. I just wanted to check you were happy.

'Oh yes. I can't wait to get in. Shelly was already walking past her, smiling contentedly at the empty rooms. She was a tall, pretty girl who had her own salon business in the district. Araminta was slightly jealous about that, mainly because Shelly was a year younger than her and obviously successful. But then, she's never made the Laril mistake.

Shelly caught sight of the big bouquet of flowers resting on the kitchen worktop. 'Oh thank you, that's so sweet.

'My pleasure. Araminta's u-shadow transferred the flat's activation codes over to Shelly. 'Now if there are any problems, please call me. She had to flatten herself against the wall as she made her way downstairs. A regrav lifter was hauling a big scarlet and black sofa up to the flat. It wasn't quite what Araminta would have chosen, but… She shrugged and left the house.

Her old carry capsule flew her across Colwyn city to the Bodant district where it settled on a public parking pad. The morning was a dull one, with grubby-ginger clouds darkening towards rain as the wind blew in from the sea. Araminta climbed out and smiled up at the six-storey apartment block. It was a fairly standard layout, ribbed by white balconies that dripped with colourful vines and flowering creepers. The corners were black glass columns alive with purple and blue refraction stipples that swarmed up and down like rodent climbers. At night the effect was sharp and conspicuous, but under a dank daylight sky it lacked any kind of verve. There was a gold crystal dome on the roof, sheltering a communal pool and spa gym. A wide swathe of elegantly maintained gardens along the front were sitting on top of the private underground garage.

Cressida's sleek purple capsule slipped down out of the low clouds to land beside Araminta. 'Well darling, what a coup. The lawyer was wrapped in a furry black and white coat that snuggled cosily round her with every move. She glanced up at the front of the building, eyes narrowing as she saw three balconies piled high with junked fittings. 'I have the access codes and the owner certificates. So let's go up, shall we?

Araminta had bought the entire fourth floor, with all five apartments. The whole apartment block was undergoing redevelopment, presenting an opportunity she couldn't resist when Ikor, one of the original developers, had pulled out. Cressida walked in to the first apartment and rolled her eyes. 'I can't believe you've done this.

'Why not? It's a perfect opportunity for me. Araminta grinned at her cousin's dismay and walked over to the balcony doors. The glass curtained wide for her and she stepped out. There was a faint sound of buzzing and drilling as the other developers prepared their floors for occupancy. 'It's ninety years old, it needs a makeover. And look at the view.

Cressida pushed her sapphire-glossed lips together as she looked out across the Bodant district's park to the Cairns beyond. There was a marina along the embankment directly opposite them, its curving deco buildings radiant white, as if they had just been forged in some fusion furnace. 'You got the wrong side of the park, darling. Over there is where the action and the smart money is. Beside, here you're only a few streets from the Helie district. Really!

'Stop being such a grump. I've proved I can do this, and you know it.

'I also know how much you paid for these hovels. Honestly darling, a hundred K each. Were you kidnapped and held ransom?

'They have three bedrooms each. They need a lot less work than the flat. The two largest have this view. And I cleared a forty K profit on the flat.

'I still can't believe the bank gave you the money for this.

'Standard commercial loan. They liked my business model, Araminta said proudly.

'And Ozzie's coming back to save us all. Go on, you can tell me. You slept with the entire staff of the local office, didn't you?

'It's very simple economics.

'Ha! That just proves you don't know what you're talking about. Economics is never simple.

'I renovate one of them — this one probably — as the show apartment, and sell the rest off. Plan based on people seeing the quality of the finish. The deposits will pay off the mortgage while I refurbish them.

'This is the best one? Oh help me.

'Yes, this one. And Helie is an up and coming area. Don't be so negative. It's annoying. Her tone was more prickly than she'd intended.

Cressida was instantly apologetic. 'I'm sorry darling. But my life is without risk now. Honestly, I admire you for taking this gamble. But you have to admit, it is a gamble.

'Of course it's a gamble. You never get anywhere in life without taking a gamble.

'Well well, whatever happened to the little farmgirl from Langham?

'She died. Nobody came to the funeral.

A perfectly shaped eyebrow rose in surprise. 'What have I unleashed on the world?

'I thought you'd be happy to see me move forward like this.

'I am. Are you going to do all the work yourself, again?

'Most of it, yes. I've got some new bots, and I know where to go for all my supplies and fittings now. This is going to be a prestige development, you'll see, all the apartments will fetch a premium.

'I'm sure they will. Did you know most of the hotels in town are fully booked?

'Is that relevant?

Cressida wiped the balcony rail with a hand then leant on it. 'There's a lot of Living Dream devotees flooding in. Rumour in the gaiafield is that the Second Dreamer is on Viotia.

'Really, I didn't know that, but then I haven't accessed a news show in weeks. I'm a working gal these days.

'Keep it quiet, but the government is worried about the pressure that's going to put on housing, among other things, like public order.

'Oh, come on!

'Seriously. We've had over two million of the faithful arrive in the last seven weeks. Do you know how many have left again?

'No.

'None. And if they all apply for residency, that's going to shift the political demographic'

'So we're receiving immigrants again. That's how planets develop. There's going to be a big demand for housing. I come out a winner.

'All I'm saying is that in times of civil disturbance property values take a dive.

'It's that serious? Araminta asked in sudden alarm; after all, Cressida was very well connected.

'You know there's always been an undercurrent of resentment towards Ellezelin. If the Living Dream numbers keep rising at their current rate, then there could be trouble. Who wants to wind up living in a hierocracy?

'Yes, but there's the Pilgrimage. That'll call them back to Ellezelin, won't it? And it's not like they're going to find this stupid Second Dreamer, least of all here. The whole thing's a political stunt by the new Cleric Conservator. Isn't it?

'Who knows. But I'd respectfully suggest, darling, that you find a sucker who you can offload these apartments on to at very short notice.

Araminta recalled how keen Ikor had been to sell to her. And it was a good deal, or so it seemed at the time. Am I the sucker? 'I suppose it wouldn't harm to look for one, she said.

Mr Bovey let loose a small chorus of swearing as four of hims tried to manoeuvre the old-fashioned stone bath along the hallway and through the bathroom door. It was an awkward angle, and the apartment's rear hallway wasn't particularly wide.

'Can I help? Araminta sang out from the kitchen where she and three bots were making last minute changes to the new utility connections ready for the units she'd ordered.

'I'm quite capable, thank you, quadraphonic voices grunted back.

His hurtful insistence made her giggle. 'Okay. It was another twenty minutes before one of him walked into the kitchen. He was the Bovey she'd first encountered in his macrostore's bathroom aisle, the one with ebony skin and an ageing body. In his biological late-middle-age he may have been, but he didn't shirk from hard work. His wrinkled forehead was smeared with sweat.

'I made some tea, she said, gesturing at the kettle with its cluster of ancient cups. 'You look like you need a break.

'I do, my others are younger. He smiled in admiration at the steaming cups and the packet of tea cubes. 'You really did make it, too, didn't you?

'Waiting for my culinary unit to arrive, she said with a martyred sigh.

'It's in the next load, I promise, he told her, and picked up a cup. His eyes took in the packets of folded food and the hydrator oven. 'Are you actually living here?

'Yeah. Not renting saves me a bucket load of money. I mean, what's the point? I've got five apartments, and they're not that bad — the roofs don't leak and the rest is just aesthetics. I can stick it out for a few months.

'You know I really admire your attitude. There's not many your age would take on a project like this.

She batted her eyes. 'And what's my age?

'Honestly? I've no idea. But you come across as a first life.

'I'll own up to that.

'Can I offer you an alternative to hydrated food tonight? There's a nice restaurant I know.

She grinned, her hand curling round her own mug of tea. 'That would be lovely. Oh, I don't like curry!

'That's okay, some of mes don't, either.

'Your tastes are different?

'Sure. Taste is all down to biochemistry, which is subtly different in every human body. And, face it, I have quite a variety to chose from.

'Okay, she said, and dropped her gaze bashfully. 'I have to ask. I've never been on a date with a multiple before. Do you all come and sit at the table with me?

'Nah, I think that would be a little full on for you, wouldn't it? Besides, I have the macrostore to run, deliveries to be made, installation, that kind of thing. My life goes on the whole time.

'Oh. Yes. It was a strange notion. Not an objectionable one, though.

'Now if you were another multiple, it might be different.

'How?

'We'd book the whole restaurant of romantic tables for two and take over the lot. Yous and mes everywhere having fifty different conversations simultaneously and trying out the entire menu and wine list all at once. It's like speed dating in fast forward.

She laughed. 'Have you ever done that?

'Tell you tonight.

'Right. So which one of you do I get sitting at that romantic table for two?

'You choose. How many of mes and which ones.

'One, and you'll do just fine.

Araminta took a great deal of thought and care over what to wear and which cosmetic scales to apply. Dressed exactly to plan two hours early. Took one look at herself in the mirror and chucked the whole image. Fifty minutes later all the cases in her bedroom were hanging open. Every outfit she had bought in the last two months was draped over floor and furniture leaving little space to walk. She'd experimented with four different styles of scale membrane. Her hair had been sparkled then damped. Oiled then fluffed. Bejewelled with red scintillators, blue scintillators, green, blue-white…

In the end — with eleven minutes to go — she took an executive decision: go basic. Mr Bovey wasn't the kind to concern himselfs with surface image.

His capsule landed on the pad outside, and she took a lift down to the lobby. The doors opened to a dusty space piled with junk and newly delivered boxes. It was all illuminated by too-bright temporary lighting.

Mr Bovey was dressed in a simple pale-grey toga suit with minimal surface shimmer. He smiled as the doors opened, and said: 'A lady who is on time, now that's — oh wow.

She permitted the smallest nod of approval as he stared. In her mind was an image of his customers left unattended, installations stalled, delivery flights landing at the wrong addresses all over town.

'You look, he swallowed as he tried to regain equilibrium, 'fantastic. Absolutely amazing.

'Why thank you. She held her hands behind her back, and presented the side of her face for a formal greeting kiss like some girly ingenue. It was the right choice then. A black sleeveless dress of plain silky fabric with a wide cleft down the front, barely held together by a couple of slim black emerald chains, making it look as if she was about to burst out. Hair glossed pale auburn, and brushed with just a couple of waves to hang below her shoulders. No scales other than lips slightly darker than her natural pigmentation, and emerald eyelash sparkles on low radiance. Most important was the sly half-smile guaranteed to totally befuddle the male brain — all of them.

Mr Bovey recovered. 'Shall we go?

'Love to.

The restaurant he'd booked was Richard's. Small but stylish, occupying two floors of an old white stone house in the Udno district. The owner was also the chef; and as Mr Bovey explained he had a small boat which he took out down the estuary a couple of times each week to catch fish for the specials.

'So do you date other multiples? she asked once they'd ordered.

'Of course, he told her. 'Not that there are a lot of us on Viotia yet.

'What about marriage? Is that only with multiples?

'I was married once. A multiple called Mrs Rion. It was, he frowned, as if searching for a memory, 'pleasant.

'That sounds pretty awful.

'I'm being unfair to her. We had a good time while it lasted. Sex was great. His smile was shameless. 'Think on it, thirty of her, thirty of me. All of us at it every night. You singles can't get that close to physical paradise even in an orgy.

'You don't know how good I am in an orgy. As soon as she said it she could feel her ears burning. But it was the second time she'd startled him this evening, and they weren't even an hour into the date. Cressida would be proud of me.

'Anyway… he said. 'We called time on the marriage after seven years. No hostilities, we're still friends. Thankfully, we didn't merge our businesses as well. Always sign a pre-marriage contract, no matter what you are.

'Yes. I found that out the hard way.

'You've been married?

'Yeah. It was a mistake, but you were right, I'm young. My cousin says mistakes are the only way to learn.

'You're cousin is right.

'So are you going to try and convert me tonight?

'Convert you?

'Sell the whole multiple idea. I thought you believe multiples are inevitable.

'I do. But I'm not an evangelical. Some of us are, he admitted.

'And you date — uh…

'Outside the faith? Of course I do. People are interesting no matter what type they are.

'Highers seem quite boring. If that sound bigoted, I should explain my ex is currently migrating inwards.

'Not a wholly balanced opinion, then.

Araminta raised a glass. 'Ozzie, I hope not.

'Going Higher is wrong, it's a technocrat route. We're a humanist solution to immortality and evolution.

'You still rely on technology, though.

'It's a very small reliance. A few gaiamotes to homologize our thoughts. It's a simple procedure.

'Ah hah! You are trying to convert me.

He grinned. 'You're paranoid.

'All divorcees are. So are any of you female?

'No. Some multiples are multisexual, but that's not for me. Too much like masturbation I'd imagine.

'I've just thought of something, and you have to answer because it's not fair.

'What's not fair?

'Well, you can see that I'm not with anyone else this evening—

'Ah, his smile turned devious. 'So in among all the hard work the rest of mes are doing back at the macrostore, is there another of me in a different restaurant chatting to another woman? Right?

'Yeah, she admitted.

'Why would it have to be a different restaurant? he gestured round extravagantly. 'Be honest, how could you tell if one of them is me?

The idea made her draw a breath and glance round.

Mr Bovey was laughing. 'But I'm not, he assured her. 'All I'm interested in tonight is you and you alone. His gaze dropped to the front of her dress. 'How could I not be?

'That's, she took another drink of the wine, 'very flattering, thank you.

Which got the evening back on more or less standard lines.

The mighty creatures fly free amid glorious coloured streamers which glow strongly against the infinite dark of the outer reaches. They loop round the great scarlet promontories which extend for lightyears, curving and swooping above the mottled webbing of faint cold gas. As they fly, the notions of what was brush against their bodies to tingle their minds as if they are travelling through the memories of another entity. Such a notion is not far from the truth, especially this close to the nucleus of their universe.

This one she tenants turns lazily along its major axis, aware of its kindred surrounding it. The flock is spread across millions of kilometres. Over a planetary diameter away, another of its own is also rolling, mountain-sized elongated body throwing its vacuum wings wide, tenuous tissues of molecules as large as atmospheric clouds that shimmer delicately in the thin starlight. Somewhere out across the vast gulf it is aware of the whispers of thought arising once more from a solid world. Once more there are individual minds growing strong again, becoming attuned to the fabric of this universe. As it basks in the gentle radiance pouring out of the nebula, it wonders when the minds will have the strength to truly affect reality. Such a time, it agrees with its kindred, is sure to come. Then the flock will depart the great nebula to search out the newcomers, and carry their completed lives back to the nucleus, where all life eventually culminates.

It was a pleasurable notion which made Araminta sigh contentedly even though the creature was slipping away into the darkness where it dwelled. Misty starlight gave way to a row of flickering candles. The gossamer breath of nebula dust firmed up into strong fingers sliding along her legs; more hands began to stroke her belly, then another pair squeezed her breasts. Sweet oil was massaged into her skin with wicked insistence. Tongues licked with intimate sensually.

'Time to wake up, a voice murmured.

On the other side of her another voice encouraged, 'Time to indulge yourself again.

Amid a delicious drowsiness Araminta bent herself in the way the hands were urging. She blinked lazily, seeing the Mr Bovey she'd had dinner with standing beside the vast bed. He smiled down. As she grinned back up at him she was impaled from behind. She gasped, startled and excited, seeing a look of rapture cross his face. A further set of hands started to explore her buttocks. She opened her mouth to receive the cock of a really young him. Which was extremely bad of her.

She didn't know how many hims she was accommodating this time. She didn't know if it was nearly morning or still the middle of the night. She didn't care. Flesh and pleasure was her here and now, her whole universe.

After the meal at Richard's, his capsule had brought them back to his place, a large house set above the city's south bank with lawns that reached down to the river. It wasn't even midnight. Several of hims were in the lounge, a couple were cooking, three were in the swimming pool. More were resting or sleeping upstairs, he told her.

It was like holding court. Her sitting on a broad leather sofa, hims on either side, and more sprawled on cushions at her feet as they chatted away. She took a long time to fight down her instinct that they were all separate people. He enjoyed teasing her, switching speaker mid-sentence, even arguing among himself. But the simultaneous laughter his bodies came out with was endearing. It was a wonderfully languid seduction.

Then the one she'd gone to dinner with leaned over and kissed her. By then the wine and the anticipation were making her heart pound and her skin burn.

'You choose, he murmured silkily.

'Choose?

'How many, and which ones.

She'd glanced round, and seen identical expressions of delight and eagerness on each of him. For that long moment every one of him was completely indistinguishable; he could have been clones. That was when she accepted on a subconscious level that he truly was one.

'You of course, she told her dinner companion. 'You did all the hard work getting me back here, after all. Then she pointed. 'You. The handsome one. 'You. Young and very well muscled — she'd seen that when he climbed out of the pool.

The chosen three led her upstairs. Araminta thought that was daring enough, but the night swiftly evolved into a strenuous sexual adventure as Mr Bovey began teaching her acts that could only be performed as a group. 'Trust me, one of hims said as he opened an aerosol in her face. 'It's a booster. It'll amplify your pleasure, sort of even things up between you and mes. Araminta breathed it down. It was potent.

They gathered round, strong hands supporting her in different positions. She was made to climax with each of hims in turn, with the booster increasing the sensation each time as it gradually saturated her bloodstream. After the third one she flopped back on the mattress in a lovely warm fugue. That was when she saw more of hims had arrived to wait silent and naked around the bed. She didn't protest as they stared down excitedly. 'Yes, she told them. In unison the fresh bodies closed in.

More than once that night Araminta swooned from a combination of exhaustion and aerosol-fuelled ecstasy. Each time he allowed her a small rest before rousing her again. Those were the occasions when she dreamed her strange dream.

She didn't wake up until mid-morning. When she did, the details of the night had merged together into a single strand of relentless animal behaviour. She'd surprised herself by yielding to everything he'd demanded from her.

The diner date Bovey was lying on the bed beside her. He was the only one left in the bedroom. 'Good morning, he said with soft politeness.

'Yeah, Araminta said. She still felt hopelessly tired, as well as unpleasantly sore. The aerosol had worn off, leaving her skin cool and slightly clammy.

'You look beautiful when you're sleeping, did you know that?

'I… No one has told me that before.

'How do you feel?

'Uh, okay I suppose.

'All right, he said in an understanding tone, and stroked some dishevelled hair from her face. 'Let me put it this way; would you like another night like that?

'Yes, she whispered, and knew she was blushing. Despite the frequent outrages he'd committed it had been absolutely the best sex she'd ever had. Exactly the kind of multiple-partner athleticism Cressida always boasted about and she'd been too timid to try. But last night it had technically only been one man; this way she got the thrill without the emotional guilt — almost.

'I hoped you would. Not every single can cope with me like that. You're very special, Araminta.

'I… She hesitated, unsure how much to confide. Which is stupid. 'It was like I was becoming part of you. Is that silly?

'No. With an experience that acute there's always a merger through the gaiafield with anyone nearby, though you mostly remained closed to me. Was that by choice?

'I don't have gaiamotes.

He gave her a curious look. 'Interesting. I was sure… nah, skip it. The house is running a bath for you.

'Thank you. So where do we go from here?

'There's a play on at the Broadway Empire, some kind of comedy, with real actors. I've booked for tonight.

Which wasn't quite what she wanted qualifying. 'Lovely. And after?

'I would like you to come back here, back to this bed. I'd really like that.

Araminta nodded demurely. 'I will. She didn't think it could ever be as exciting as last night had been. First times were always special, but if hes were just as randy tonight it would still be the hottest sex in town. She eased herself off the bed, drawing a sharp breath as she straightened up. 'Um, how many bodies have you got?

It was his turn to seem reticent. 'Over thirty.

'How many… last night?

'Six, he said with a very male grin of satisfaction.

'Ozzie! That's it, I'm now officially a complete trollop. Can't wait to see Cressida's face when I tell her that. Six! She'll be as jealous as hell.

'What do you want for breakfast? he asked as she opened the door to the en suite bathroom.

'Orange juice, Bathsamie coffee strong, croissants with strawberry and hijune jam.

'It'll be ready when you are.

The regrav capsule sped low over the scrub desert. Dead and desiccated bushes virtually the same colour as the crumbling jaundiced mud from which they'd grown merged to a speckled blur as Aaron looked down through the transparent fuselage. Their jumbled smear confused his visual perspective, making it difficult to tell if their altitude was one metre or a thousand. He often found himself searching for the capsule's jet-black shadow slithering fast across the low undulations to provide a clue.

A couple of minutes before they reached the ranch, he saw a fence; posts of bleached wood sticking up in a section of desert which appeared no different to the rest of the wretched expanse. Rusty spikewire sagged between them. More fences flashed past underneath as they drew closer. The fields they marked out were smaller, closer together. Eventually the clutter of buildings which comprised the ranch itself were visible, nestling at the centre of a vast web of spikewire.

'What does he raise out here? Corrie-Lyn asked.

'Korrimues, Aaron said.

'I can't see anything moving.

'Wrong season, I think.

She gave the vast desert a disapproving look. 'There are seasons out here?

'Oh yes. It rains every ten years.

'Gosh, how do the ranchers stand the excitement?

The capsule began to circle the ranch. He counted eight large outlying barn sheds, all built from an ancient ginger-coloured composite, while the house in the middle was a white stone structure surrounded by a big emerald garden. An outdoor swimming pool shimmered deep turquoise. Terrestrial horses cantered around a broad paddock.

'Okay, that actually looks rather nice, Corrie-Lyn said grudgingly.

His field functions reported the capsule was being given a broad-spectrum scan. 'Not quite paradise, he muttered. His own passive scan was registering some dense power clumps in the ground. They were arranged in an even circle around the perimeter. A defence ring of some kind.

The capsule settled on a designated zone just outside the garden.

'Can you… he started to say to Corrie-Lyn, then saw her disinterested expression. 'Just leave the talking to me, okay?

'Of course I will. Shall I just stay in here? Or would you like to gag me? Perhaps you'd prefer me stuffed into a suspension pod?

'Now there's true tempting, he told her cheerfully, ignoring the scowl.

Paul Alkoff was leaning on the five bar gate which led to the paddock, dressed entirely in faded blue denim with a Stetson perched on his head. A tall man who was finally allowing his seven and a half centuries to show. His hair was snow white, worn long at the back but perfectly brushed. His movements were noticeably slow, as if each limb was stiff. With skin that was tanned dark brown his pale blue eyes seemed to shine out of his thin face. A neatly trimmed goatee added to his palpable air of distinction. Even Aaron recognized he was in the presence of a formidable man, he immediately began to wonder just how much living had been crammed into those seven hundred and fifty years. A great deal, if he was any judge.

'Sir, thank you for agreeing to see me.

Corrie-Lyn shot him a surprised look at the respectful tone.

Paul gave a small smile then lifted his Stetson an inch off his hair and inclined his head to Corrie-Lyn. 'Ma'am. Welcome.

'Um, hello, a thoroughly confused Corrie-Lyn managed.

'Don't normally allow your kind in my home, Paul said directly to Aaron. 'So you'll understand if I don't ask you in and break bread with you.

'My biononics are for combat, I'm not Higher.

'Uh huh. Don't suppose it makes no difference these days, son. That battle was fought a long time ago.

'Did you win?

'Planet's still human, so I guess we did some good back then.

'So you are Protectorate?

'My old partners asked me to let you land. When I enquired, I heard they got leaned on by people high up in the movement, people we haven't heard from in a long time. You made that happen, son, so I'd appreciate it if you don't go all coy with me now.

'Of course not'

'What do you want?

'Information.

'Figured as much. He turned and rested his elbows on the top of the gate. 'You see Georgia out there? She's the one with the dappled mane.

Aaron and Corrie-Lyn walked over to the gate. 'Yes, sir, Aaron said.

'Frisky little thing, ain't she? I can trace her blood-line right back to Arabians on Earth from the mid-nineteenth century. She's as pure as they come. Not an artificial sequence in her whole genome; conceived naturally and born from her mother's belly just as every one of her ancestors have been. To me, that is a thing of beauty. Sublime beauty. I do not wish to see that spoiled. No indeed, I don't want to see her foals improved. She and her kind have the right to exist in this universe just as she was intended to by the planet that created her.

Aaron watched the horse as she cantered around, tossing her mane. 'I can understand that.

'Can you now? And my hat.

'Sir?

Paul took his Stetson off, and examined it before returning it to his head. 'This is the real McCoy, I'll have you know. One of the very last to come out of Texas, over two hundred and fifty years ago in a factory that's manufactured them for damn near a millennia, before ANA finally shut down what it regarded as an inconsequential irrelevance. The once-humans who live on that poor ole world these days don't even make them as a hobby any more. I bought a whole batch and keep them in stasis so every time I wear one out I'll have another a fresh one. I have only two left now. That's a crying shame. But then I don't expect to be around long enough to use that last one. It'll sit right there on top of my coffin.

'I'm sorry to hear that, sir.

'So tell me, son, do you see what I am now?

'Not quite, no.

Paul fixed Aaron with a perturbingly intense stare. 'If I can get all hot under the collar about the purity of a hat, just think what I'm like when human heritage is threatened with extinction.

'Ah.

'Yes. I'm Protectorate, and proud of it. I've played my part in preventing those obscene perversions from spreading their sanctimonious bullshit supremacy across these glorious stars. Higher isn't like some old-fashioned religion or ideology. With them, fellas who hold two different beliefs can argue and cuss about such notions all night long over a bottle of whisky and laugh it off in the morning like gentlemen. But not Higher culture. I regard it as a physical virus to be exterminated. It will contaminate us and take away choice. If you are born with biononics infecting your cells, your choice is taken away from you. You will download your thoughts into ANA. That's it. No option, no alternative. Your essence has been stolen from you before you are born. Humans, true humans, have free will. Highers do not. No indeed.

'And the life they live between birth and download? Corrie-Lyn asked.

'Irrelevant. They're the same as pets, or more likely cattle, cosseted and protected by machines until the moment they're ready to submit to their metal god in a final sacrifice.

'So what's the point in that god creating them?

'Ultimately, there won't be one. Despite the years, this is early days yet. ANA believes it is our replacement. If it is allowed free reign it will see us extinct.

'A lot of species continue after their post-physical plateau, Aaron said. 'For most a singularity is a regeneration event, those that don't go post-physical diversify and spread across new stars.

'Yes. But no longer what they were. Paul gazed out at Georgia again. 'Unless she is protected, the universe will never see her like again. That is wrong. It cannot be allowed.

'The radical Higher movement is almost extinct, Aaron said. 'There are no more infiltrations. ANA saw to that.

Paul smiled thinly. 'Yeah, and ain't that an irony. Maybe the Good Lord is having a joke on his metal pretender over morals.

'I need to ask you about your time as an active Protectorate member.

'Go right ahead, son. I don't know what you are, but I'm pretty sure what you're not, and that's the police or some version of them.

'No, sir, I am not.

'Glad to hear it.

'I'm here about Inigo.

Ah. That was high up on my list. You two looking for him?

'Did you know he was Higher?

Paul's reaction startled Aaron. The old man slapped his hand on the gate, and produced a beaming smile. 'Son of a bitchl I knew it, I goddamn knew it. Hell, he was a wily one. Do you know how long we watched him?

'So you suspected?

'Of course we suspected.

'That means Erik Horovi was Higher?

'Erik? Hell no. Poor kid. He was used just like the sisters by that bastard angel.

'Sisters? Are you talking about Inigo's aunt?

'You don't know so much after all, do you, son?

'No, sir. But I do need to learn. It is urgent.

'Ha. Everything is urgent. The whole universe is in a hurry these days. I know it's that way because I'm older, but damn—

'Erik, Aaron prompted gently.

'We'll start with the angel. You know what they are?

'I've heard of them.

'The radical Highers wanted to convert entire worlds to their culture. They didn't want to give people a choice about it. Like I said, if you're born with biononics you don't have any options in life, in what you become. So back then these angels would land on a planet and do their dirty work; starting the infection which would spread across the entire population. Now the Protectorate watched the spaceports for anyone with biononics, and kept tabs on them while they were visiting. Still do, so I gather. So the angels would land out in the wilds somewhere. They'd jump offship while it was still in low orbit, and their force fields would protect them through aerobraking. He gave Aaron a long look. 'Could you do that?

'Yes, I suppose so. It's just a question of formatting. But back then it would have been cutting edge.

'Oh the bastards were that, for sure. The force fields were what earned them their name. They were shaped like wings, and brought them down to the world amid a fiery splendour. A lot of them got through unnoticed. This time, though, we got lucky; a sympathizer out fishing saw the thermal trail it left over the ocean and called it in. Me and my team tracked the monster to Kuhmo. But we weren't quick enough. By the time we got there it had hooked up with Erik Horovi and Imelda Viatak, who were dating just like normal kids. Now the thing with angels is they're hermaphroditic, and they're beautiful. I mean really beautiful. This one was exceptional even by their standards, either a pretty boy or a real humdinger of a girl depending on your own gender. It was what you wanted it to be. So it made friends with Erik and Imelda and went to bed with both of them. Erik first. Now that's important. Its organs injected his sperm with biononics. Then it lay with Imelda and impregnated her with Erik's altered sperm.

'Contraception? Aaron queried.

'No use. Angels can neutralize it faster than any medic. So the kids find they're having a baby, and the DNA test proves it's theirs no question. Biononics are hellishly difficult to detect in an embryo even today. Back then it was near impossible. So, bang, you've got a challenging in the nest without ever knowing it. Biononics don't come active until puberty, so by then it's too late. Plant enough of them in a population, and a few generations later most of the births are Higher. But we intercepted this little love triangle in time.

'The college art block, Corrie-Lyn said.

'Yes, ma'am. You might say the angel put up something of a fight. But we got it. All you really need to defeat biononics is a heavier level of firepower. The art block got in the way.

'What about the baby?

'We took Erik and Imelda back to our field headquarters. She was pregnant, about two weeks gone as I recall, and it was infected.

'I thought you couldn't tell.

Paul looked straight ahead at the horizon. 'There are ways you can find out. You have to test the cells directly.

'Oh, Ozzie, Corrie-Lyn breathed, her face had paled.

'We took it out of her and checked. No kind of embryo can survive that kind of test. Fortunately we were right this time, it was one of them.

'You're not human, no matter what you claim.

Aaron gave her a furious look. She started to say something then threw her hands up in disgust and walked away.

'Sorry about that, Aaron said. 'What happened?

'Standard procedure in cases when the girl knows she's pregnant, which Imelda did. We can't wipe weeks from their memories, that would be detectable. So we took another ova from her and fertilized it with Erik's contribution, and implanted. Then they both got a memory wipe for the evening they spent with us. Next morning they wake up with a bad hangover, and can't remember what they did. Typical teenage morning after.

'Did it go wrong, then?

'No, son, everything worked perfectly. Nine months later they had a lovely little girl. A normal one.

'So how was Inigo conceived?

'Imelda had a sister.

'Sabine.

'Yes. They were twins. Identical twins.

'Ah. I think this is starting to make sense.

'I should have realized. It's every teenage boy's ultimate fantasy; plenty of men, too.

'He slept with both of them.

'Yes. Him and the angel. You just confirmed that for me. Finally. Part of the Protectorate's whole clean-up procedure is to review the angel's memories, to find out who it has contaminated. Hacking into its brain is a terrible, terrible thing, one of the greatest abuses of medical technology possible. It takes days to break the protection which biononics provide for the neurones. I used to do it for the team, may God forgive me, but it was necessary. There's no other way of discovering what those devil-spawned monsters have been up to. It's not an exact science, now or then. Minds are not tidy little repositories like a memory kube. I had to merge my mind with its and endure its vile slippery thoughts inside my own skull. When I reviewed its recent memories I actually experienced coupling with Imelda. He closed his eyes, clearly pained by the fraudulent memory. 'Her face was inches from me. She tasted so… sweet. But, now, I don't suppose it was all her. Rather, the memories weren't just of her. I couldn't tell the difference between the girls. Damnit, at the time I didn't know there was a difference I should be searching for.

'So Inigo was born as part of a radical Higher infiltration plan.

'Yes. We were shocked when we found out Sabine was pregnant, but that was just before she was due. There were a lot of arguments within my team about what we should do.

'Snatch the baby and test it.

'That was one option. The mild one. Paul looked over at Corrie-Lyn who was sitting on a low concrete wall outside one of the barns. 'But intervention becomes progressively difficult as time winds away, especially once the child is born. We're not… There's a difference between abortion and infanticide — to me, anyway. And once it was born it has a legal right of residency. Even if we took it away from the mother and shipped it back to the Central Worlds, they'd just send it right back. Legally, it's a mess. Which is why the Protectorate was formed, to stop the whole nightmare scenario before it gets politically complicated.

'So what did you do?

'I never really believed the girls having a kid two weeks apart was coincidence. In the event, we settled for observation. If Inigo was infected he'd give himself away eventually, they all do.

'But he didn't.

'No. We monitored him off and on for over twenty-five years. He never put a foot wrong. He was a straight down the line normal human. School. University. Girlfriends. Not exceptionally sporting. Got injured when he played football. Had to get a job. Kept out of local politics. Signed up with a rejuve finance company. When he took aerosols he got high. Took a boring academic position in the state university cosmology department. There was nothing to indicate he had biononics. Right up until you arrived today I'd still have said he most probably didn't. I had come to accept that his birth maybe was coincidence after all. Believe me, son, if we'd confirmed it when he reached legal age we would have made a quiet ultimatum.

'Leave or die.

'Yes. There's no other way you can treat them?

'Then he did leave, didn't he? All the way to Centurion Station.

'Yes. And what a goddamned pitiful mess that's turned into. Half the aliens in the galaxy want to shoot us out of space. Who can blame them.

'It's only the Ocisen Empire.

'You mean they're the only ones who have declared themselves. Don't tell me you think the others are just going to sit back and let us wreck the very stars themselves.

'Who knows? If I can find him maybe we can put a stop to the whole Pilgrimage.

'I should have killed him in the womb when I had the chance.

'Whatever he is, he's not Higher.

'He might not be polluted with their culture, yet, but it will come to him eventually.

'Apparently not. He found an alternative to a route you believed was set in stone. His destiny is inside the Void, not with ANA.

Paul shrugged. 'Whichever one it is, it's not a human destiny.

'Our destiny is what we decide to make it. Free choice, remember.

'You're wrong, son. I see you believe in yourself, and I wish you well in that. But you're wrong.

'Okay, we'll just differ on that one. What happened to Erik?

'Bodyloss. Paul caught Aaron's expression. 'Not us, it was a genuine accident. He was working hard to support both girls. A decent lad, I guess. The farmer he was helping out didn't do very good maintenance. The agribot chewed him up something bad. This was maybe six months after the kids were born. His insurance was all paid up, but he'd only just had his memorycell fitted. It's always the same in cases like that. The new body only has a few months of memories, which is never enough to install a decent level of personality. In his re-life state he was very childlike, ironically because his entire childhood was what he lacked. There was no real emotional connection with the sisters and his two children. Not immediately. Imelda worked hard at correcting that. She did well. They went off together. Sabine and little Inigo got left behind. It kicked off a huge family row. The sisters never really spoke after that.

'Which is why Aunt Imelda got written out of his official history.

'That's pretty much it. Yes.

'I've never met a more despicable human, Corrie-Lyn said as the regrav capsule lifted from the ranch. 'And I include our dear Cleric Conservator in that statement.

'Did you ever meet a Higher angel?

'No.

'Well then.

'That's it? she shouted angrily. 'That's your justification?

'I'm not trying to justify anything. All I'm doing is pointing out that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. What he used to do was part of the era.

'He's a psychopath. Fuck knows how many babies he's killed. He belongs in suspension for the rest of eternity.

'Dead, you mean.

'Whatever! she snapped, and slumped down into the cushioning. Her delicate features set in a furious sulk.

'I told you to leave the talking to me.

'Shut the fuck up.

'Well at least he helped us.

'How?

'There now you see, if you hadn't gone stomping off in a huff…

'Screw you. I bet you were Protectorate before the memory wipe. It certainly fits.

'No.

'You can't be certain, though. And how come you have such highly placed contacts in their filthy organization?

'I simply know who to ask in such circumstances, that's all. Information does not imply compliance; and I don't know where my data originates from.

'Pah! She turned to watch the desert skim past.

Aaron waited a minute for her to relent. When she didn't, he smiled quietly and said, 'Inigo bought a rejuvenation policy.

'So? She managed to spit it out with more petulance than a tantruming five-year-old.

'It was part of his attempt to fit in with a normal existence, Aaron continued passively. 'No one with biononics needs a rejuvenation treatment, that's strictly for Advancers and normals. Biononics maintain human cells at an optimum state; the body doesn't age biologically after you hit twenty-five. He did it to fool the Protectorate. After all, he knew what his heritage was, which means he knew what they would do to him if he made a slip.

'And that helps us how?

'It means he had a secure memory store. It probably dates right up to his assignment to Centurion Station.

'I'm so sorry, I didn't realize you were deaf. And that helps us how?

'Somewhere on Anagaska there's an electronic version of the young Inigo's personality. Alkoff gave me the name of the company he bought the policy from.

'That's not going to— Oh dear Ozzie! You have got to be kidding.

Aaron grinned cheerfully at her. 'About time this planet saw a little excitement.

Prior to the Starflyer war, when the Commonwealth was essentially one society comprising predominantly physical citizens, the government created a very senior committee named the Exo-Protectorate Council whose brief was to evaluate the threat level presented by each new alien species as it was discovered. After ANA came on line and took over design, manufacture, and operation of the Commonwealth Navy's warships, threat became something of a non-term. If the old Commonwealth could defeat the Primes, ANA with its near post-physical technology was unlikely to be menaced by anything less than a malevolent post-physical. That wasn't to say that the remaining physical sector of the Commonwealth couldn't encounter a whole load of grief out among the stars. So the ExoProtectorate Council lived on in a modified form inside ANA, operating independently from ANA: Governance.

Its meetings were few and infrequent. Therefore, when Admiral Kazimir called for one, every delegate appeared, suspecting the reason. They met in a neutral perceptual reality in a secure location within ANA, comprising an old-fashioned conference room with rather extravagant white and orange furniture and a panoramic window showing them the Mollavian plains with their wall of hydrogen volcanoes. Sheets of ice-pebble meteorites sleeted downwards, burning crimson contrails with lightning forks rippling in their wake.

Kazimir activated the perceptual reality, and materialized in the seat at the head of the table. Gore flicked in a millisecond later, sitting directly to Kazimir's right. He was followed by Justine. Ilanthe was next to appear, a delicate-looking woman dressed in a blue and grey leotard. Her dark hair had been cropped short and coloured with purple streaks. They didn't represent any kind of enrichments, they were just highlights. It was a style which Kazimir thought he recognized, but couldn't quite place without running a check through his enhanced neural structure. Ilanthe wasn't worth the effort; she was the Accelerator Faction's appointment to the Council, and enjoyed making mischief where she could. The trick with her was not to rise to the bait.

Crispin Goldreich arrived in the seat next to Justine. Over a thousand years ago he'd been a Senator sitting on the original ExoProtectorate Council. It was an appointment he'd maintained ever since. Kazimir and ANA: Governance allowed him to remain because when it came to advising on the political angle of a crisis there were few better short of a full Governance convocation. Unfortunately, his usefulness was limited by a somewhat xenophobic view of aliens; several members of his family had been lost on Nattavaara during the Starflyer War, which had shaped his opinion ever since. As such he was a strong advocate of both the Isolationist and Internalist Factions.

The last two were Creewan and John Thelwell, who respectively put forward Custodian and Darwinist Faction positions.

'Thank you for attending, Kazimir said. 'I have implemented this Council because the situation with regards to the Ocisen Empire has entered a new stage. The Navy squadron deployed in the Hancher domain have detected a massive Empire fleet is now in flight. Its trajectory is aimed directly at the Commonwealth, specifically the sector containing Ellezelin.

'How many ships? Justine asked.

'Two thousand eight hundred and seventeen, Kazimir replied. 'Of which nine hundred are their Starslayer class, the biggest most expensive warships they've ever built. The Empire's economy has suffered a significant downturn over the last forty years in order to facilitate their production. They are armed with warheads similar to quantumbusters. They think we don't know about them, but we detected the trials they conducted forty-five years ago.

'They have quantumbusters? Crispin asked.

'A variant of, yes, Kazimir said. 'Such a development was inevitable. They make our atom-bomb-era species look like a bunch of pacifists.

'And the Navy hasn't bothered to share this with us?

'The Empire believes their advantage is that we don't know. To make it public knowledge that the Empire possesses a device which the External Worlds would regard as a doomsday weapon would be to give away our advantage, not to mention damaging public confidence.

'They must be insane, Creewan muttered. 'The Emperor must realize how we'll react to an assault of that nature. They know how strong we are.

'Actually, they don't, Kazimir said. 'Nobody outside ANA: Governance and myself knows the exact capability of the deterrence fleet.

'Please tell me it is strong enough to deal with the Ocisen Empire.

'Don't concern yourself on that score. They do not pose any sort of threat.

'Are they alone? Gore asked. 'The Ambassador was quite adamant that they'd dug up some decent allies.

'There were no non-Empire ships in the fleet which launched, Kazimir said.

'We'll make a politician out of you yet, my boy. So do we know for sure that the Starslayer class are only armed with quantumbusters, or have they found some nasty left overs from someone who went post-physical?

'We'd have to intercept a Starslayer and scan it to be certain of the precise contents, Kazimir said. 'I don't advise that. In Ocisen terms that provocation would be a declaration of war. Plus, we'd tip their hand how powerful we are.

'Well what the hell do you advise? Crispin asked. 'They're going to find out eventually.

I'd like to avoid that. What I'd like to see applied to the Ocisens is something along the lines of intense diplomatic persuasion that they turn the fleet round and go home.

'Won't happen, Creewan said. 'If the Empire has launched what is essentially their entire Navy at us, it will be politically impossible for them to return until the Pilgrimage has been halted. Asking them nicely just won't hack it. We'll have to use force.

'What about another more immediate threat to the Empire? Justine suggested. 'Some unknown ships approaching from another direction? We could deliver that, surely?

'Yes, said Kazimir. 'But it simply postpones the inevitable. We can manufacture what appears to be a threat, but if their fleet returns to challenge an intruder then our bluff will be called. I cannot blow up star systems simply to maintain an illusion. No matter the morality, there is a considerable physical problem with radiation. Our Firewall project showed that.

'How long until they get here? Ilanthe asked.

'Their flight-time to Ellezelin is seventy-nine days, Kazimir said. 'A significant figure, because the Pilgrimage fleet will not be completed by then. It is reasonable to assume their aim is to hit the Pilgrimage ships while they're still on the ground. If the Living Dream were to get its ships into space, they would be a lot harder to intercept, especially for the Empire.

'Then I don't understand your reluctance to create a diversion. Once the Pilgrimage ships are in space, the Empire fleet is effectively neutralized. You don't have to do anything as dramatic as blow up a star on the other side of the Empire. Launch a thousand drones with a phantom signature, so it appears a hostile fleet is heading to the Empire. Buy us some time for Living Dream.

'They'd know, Gore said. 'It's the timing again. They launch their fleet. We have to delay it and oh look, here's an unknown threat coming at them from the other side of space. How about that for coincidence? Even the Osceans aren't that stupid.

'Don't count on it, John Thelwell muttered.

'It would have to be a credible threat to divert them, Kazimir said.

'So skulk around the Empire's borders and wreck a couple of stars, or at least planets.

'We employ the word Empire too glibly, Justine said. 'The most literal translation of their planets is, Worlds upon which we nest. I'm ashamed this committee is prepared to demonize the Osceans to justify force. We must concentrate on peaceful solutions.

Ilanthe gave Gore a small victory smile as he glowered at his daughter.

'If they weren't sending a fleet towards us armed with enough quantumbusters to wipe out every Commonwealth planet I might not refer to them as a bunch of psychopathic fuckheads, Gore snapped. 'As it is, we are here to advise the Navy on how to respond. You met the Ambassador. Exactly what sort of peaceful overture do you think the Empire will respond to?

'We have to provide them with options, Justine said. 'Preferably ones which allow them to save face.

'Like pressuring Living Dream not to launch its ridiculous Pilgrimage, Creewan said.

'Outside this committee's remit, Ilanthe said swiftly. 'We advise the Navy on its response. She didn't even turn to look at Creewan. 'You want to push for something like that, bring it up at a political meeting, or even Governance.

'It is a valid option, Justine said.

'Not here it isn't. Here we decide on how many of their suns we turn nova in order to convince them to turn back.

'Nobody is turning Empire suns nova, Kazimir said. 'As I said, their fleet does not pose a physical threat to any aspect of the Commonwealth. It can be effectively neutralized.

'That's quite a big claim, Ilanthe said. 'You sure about that?

'Providing they do not possess an excess of stolen post-physical technology, yes.

'Then do just that, neutralize them. Stop them cold in interstellar space. It's not like they have a back-up fleet to send if anything goes wrong.

Kazimir glanced round the table. 'Is that the recommendation of this committee?

'It certainly is not, Justine said.

'And your plan is…? Ilanthe enquired archly.

A warning, John Thelwell said. 'In all likelihood, several warnings, considering who we're dealing with. Followed by a demonstration of our capability and intent.

'Would that be several demonstrations? Justine asked acidly. 'Just to get the point over how big and scary we are.

'Once they see they cannot stop the Pilgrimage they will turn back.

'That implies a governing factor of logic and reason, Crispin said. 'This is the Osceans we're talking about. They've committed to stopping us. Even if it meant the death of every starship in their fleet, they'll keep coming.

'The warships will be disabled, not destroyed, Kazimir said. 'I could not countenance such a loss of life.

'Then I don't even see what you convened us for, Crispin said.

'Because Governance and I don't want to reveal our true capability outside a genuine and serious threat, which this is not.

'Rock and a hard place, Gore grunted. 'The only way to deal with them without huge loss of life all round is by using ANA's technology, which in turn makes us frightening to all the physical aliens knocking around this section of the galaxy.

'This is a morals debate? Ilanthe mocked.

'It might even get the Raiel worried about us, Justine said.

'Gets my vote, Gore said. 'Supercilious little turds. It's about time someone gave their pedestal a good kicking.

'Oh stop it, Justine told him.

Gore leaned forward. 'Deliver a warning to the command ship, he said. 'If it is ignored, disable that ship. If they continue after that, take the lot of 'em down. Use the lowest-level of technology we've got that will do the job, but do it.

'Seconded, Crispin said.

'I would point out that it will be a nestling of the Emperor in charge of the fleet, said Creewan. 'The political implications of the ruling nest being defeated are not good. The likelihood of subsequent instability are strong.

'Which neither harms nor concerns us, John Thelwell said. He gave the Custodian a dismissive glance. 'We've given the Empire a beating before; they never learn.

'Our position gives us an obligation, Justine said.

'Only according to human morals, Ilanthe said. 'These are aliens.

'I wish to remain true to myself, thank you, Justine said primly.

'Of course you do.

'I vote against any physical force being used against the Empire fleet, no matter how restrained. We need to seek an alternative.

'Thank you, Mother, Kazimir said. 'Anyone else against the motion?

Creewan raised his hand.

Kazimir looked round the table. 'Then it is the majority vote that the Navy delivers a warning to the command ship, and subsequently disables it if that warning is ignored. I will initiate that immediately.

'And what if they keep on coming after the command ship is taken out? Justine asked. 'Which they will, and you all know it.

'Then I will reconvene this committee, Kazimir said.

She let out an exasperated hiss of breath, and against all etiquette withdrew instantly. The others stared at the vacated space as the perceptual reality adjusted to her absence.

'That's what being in a real body does for you, Ilanthe muttered archly.

'I will, of course, provide a secure link to the Navy ship delivering the ultimatum, Kazimir said. 'All of you will be able to access the event.

'How long until the demand is made? John Thelwell asked.

'I'd like to bring in a ship which I know has the ability to disable a Starslayer without loss of life, Kazimir said. 'We have that capability in the Hancher assistance squadron. Flight time will be within ten days. The warning will allow them one Earth day to turn round.

'We'll be back here in a fortnight, then, Gore predicted.

Less than a second after the meeting officially ended, Ilanthe requested access to Gore's personal perceptual reality. He'd been expecting it and permitted her entry as he ambled along the white-sand beach below the headland. She walked up out of the water, wearing a blue and white bikini.

'Very Ursula Andress, he said appreciatively. Gone was the spiky Cat hairstyle of the meeting, she was shaking droplets out of long honey-coloured tresses.

'Thank you. Ilanthe squinted up at the noon sun; holding a pale hand across her forehead. 'The governors you have configuring this place are very crude. Am I likely to get sunburn?

'They're not crude, just strong. Prevents hostiles trojaning in nasty surprises. And no, you won't get sunburn, just increase your skin pigmentation factor.

'Ah. She blinked as her skin darkened to a rich bronze. 'It's still a very earthy environment to me. Will you get me drunk and seduce me?

'Sex is common enough between enemies.

'Oh Gore, she pouted. 'We're not enemies. Besides we both got what we wanted out of the meeting.

'Did we?

'We both voted for the same thing. Why? Is dear Justine still sulking?

He started walking along the shoreline again. 'One word of genuine advice: don't ever underestimate my daughter. I still do occasionally. It's a mistake.

'Point taken. Do you think Kazimir will delay because of her?

'Fuck no. He's the most Right Stuff human you'll ever meet. Government gave him a clear order, so he clicks his boot heels, salutes, and presses the button.

'You are so anachronistic. You really should update your references.

'What? Haul myself all the way into the twenty-fifth century?

'Well, one step at a time.

'That's when you were born, wasn't it?

She chuckled. 'They're right. You are pure evil.

'Who's they?

'Just about everybody.

'They're probably right then. So what can I do for you?

'Can we deal?

'On the Pilgrimage? Sure.

'Interesting capitulation. Why do I not believe you?

'It's going to be a cusp event. Every Faction knows it. Hell, even some of the animals outside are waking up to what's going on. The Darwinists are wetting themselves with excitement. And your lot aren't much better, running round, pushing and prodding in places you shouldn't.

'I don't know what you're talking about.

'That arsehole Marius is clocking up a lot of lightyears.

She pretended shock, her hand going to the base of her throat. 'As is your Delivery Man.

'True Conservatives are paranoid little creatures. They have good cause.

'You claim you're not one of them?

'I have an affiliation.

'Funny, according to our files you're the chairman of the board.

'You really should update your references.

She put her hands on her hips. 'Look, do you want to deal or not?

'You're very hot in that pose, you know that?

'Gore!

'All right, what are you offering?

'Some detente. A little less manipulation from both sides.

'Let the animals decide, you mean. I don't think I can buy that coming from you. In any case, we've both spent so long moving our pawns into place that they'll just keep on going without us now. He tilted his head to one side, and smiled. 'Or am I missing something?

'No.

'Really? Perhaps some critical event that you need to work smoothly?

'Moments like that are made up by historians after the event to justify their own dreary existence. There's no one thing which will make or break the Pilgrimage.

'Really? Have you ever tried telling Ozzie or Nigel that the actions of an individual are historically invalid?

'Nobody manipulated them. And this is a distraction. We simply want both sides to cool down.

'So the Accelerator Faction wants to let galactic events be decided by animals. Humm. No wonder you don't like my environment, it doesn't have any flying pigs.

'Is that your answer?

'No. But I am mildly curious. Unless either a Faction or ANA: Governance itself intervenes, the Pilgrimage ships will launch. So what the fuck exactly is the Accelerator line on the galaxy being devoured by the Void, exterminating all life including ourselves?

'It won't happen. This is why I'm here, to tell you we have taken precautions in the event of the worst-case scenario.

Gore stopped and turned to stare at her, genuinely surprised. 'What the fuck are you talking about?

'If the Void's boundary sweeps through this sector of space, Harth and ANA will be perfectly safe.

'You don't know that.

'Oh yes we do.

'I really, really, hope you're not basing your goals on some chunk of weapons technology you've managed to cobble together with a couple of old replicators. The Raiel can't defeat the boundary. Even ANA: Governance can't work out what will happen if and when the Void's boundary washes across itself.

'That level of expansion is extremely unlikely, to the point of sheer impossibility. Firstly, the stars of the Wall have tremendous mass; enough to empower the will of every Living Dream pilgrim for centuries. It is an absolute fallacy that every star in the galaxy will be engulfed by the Void. Raiel propaganda shouted in tedious repetition by the Osceans. The Raiel are an ancient failed race, as changeless as the Void itself, they have no right to dictate to us. Even if the entire galactic core gets devoured it doesn't matter. There's nothing alive in there, the planets are radiation-saturated husks of rock. You even believe it yourself, always accusing us of wanting the devourment. Have I ever said that?

'No. I know exactly what Accelerators want: fusion. Right? You want to merge ANA with the fabric of the Void continuum. You think that's how we'll achieve post-physical status.

'You have accessed Inigo's dreams, we know the Conservatives have analysed them as thoroughly as everyone else. Inside the Void, the mind directly affects the fabric of the universe, we can take charge of our own destiny.

'No, no, no, Gore shouted. 'The Void is not a fucking universe, it is a microverse, a tiny insignificant little speck of nothing. In cosmological terms, it doesn't even register. You can play God in there, for sure, the Waterwalker does it. But you're only God in there, nowhere else. It is an alien version of ANA, that's all. That's not transcendence, it's being so far up your own ass you can't see what's going on outside.

'It is a huge opportunity for growth. The Void has stalled, it has been changeless for millions — billions — of years. We can reinvigorate it. Humans have already begun that process; ordinary pitiful animals that now have mental powers even we can only fantasize about. Imagine what will happen when ANA has full access to such a technology, and begins to manipulate it in new directions.

'Sweet Ozzie, you are pitiful. I'd be contemptuous if I considered you sentient, but you're not even that.

'We knew you would be opposed to the fusion, this is what our offer concerns.

'Go on, Gore said suspiciously.

'We will duplicate ANA. Those who wish to attain fusion with the Void can stay here, those who do not can transfer over and fly free.

'That doesn't solve a fucking thing, girlie. The Void can't be allowed to fuse with a post-physical mind, or even ANA — which, face it, isn't there yet.

Ilanthe's expression hardened. 'Your language betrays you. Can't be allowed? You don't have the right to make that judgement. Evolution will occur, either triggered by the Pilgrimage, or a more direct connection. For all you know the Waterwalker himself may bring about expansion.

'He happened a thousand years ago, ten thousand for all we know.

'Time is irrelevant in there.

'Shit! You're not Accelerators, not any more, you've seen the light and converted to Living Dream.

'We have seen an opportunity to advance ourselves, and taken it. We have never hidden our purpose from anyone.

Accelerators didn't start out lusting after the Void.

'Now you are betraying your age, your own changeless nature.

'I should just get out of the way then, should I? Maybe simply erase myself? Make it all nice and simple for the New Order.

'You are responsible for your own destiny. She shrugged an elegant shoulder. 'Your choice.

'Okay, granted; and I will make it, believe me. But assuming you're right and the Void doesn't expand like a hyperspace tsunami when the Pilgrimage gets inside, how are you going to fuse ANA with it?

'We don't have to. Highers will travel with the Pilgrimage ships. They will study the true nature of the Void fabric and the mechanism which generates it.

'If it can be built once, Gore said quietly. 'It can be built again.

Ilanthe smiled. 'Now you understand. We can build a second Void here in this solar system and bring about the fusion right away. ANA will evolve and transcend.

'Nice science experiment. What happens if it doesn't work? ANA is the core of Higher culture, Earth is the physical centre of the Commonwealth. If you take that away, two cultures will suffer.

'I never thought I'd hear that: Gore Burnelli, whining liberal. Normal, Higher and Advancer humans will have to make their own way in the universe. That, too, is evolution.

'In a galaxy that your arrogance will have given a very short future.

'Our solution is one that will satisfy all Factions. Both of us can carry on almost as before.

'You weren't even born on Earth. I was. It's my home. And I'm not letting anyone fuck with it.

'Then you are even less developed that we gave you credit for. Our offer stands. I expect the other Factions will take us up on it when they see the inevitability of what is to come.

'Are you planning to blow the Empire fleet out of space?

Ilanthe looked genuinely indignant. 'Of course not. They are an irrelevance. Kazimir will deal with them, one way or another. She smiled coldly. 'Please consider our offer, Gore. It is made in the spirit of reconciliation. After all, if anyone can be said to be ANA's father, it is you. Time perhaps to let go and allow your child to make its own way in life. She trotted back into the waves and dived below the water.

Gore started at the surf where she disappeared, his mind tracing her withdrawal from his personal reality. 'Fuck me, he grunted.

When he walked along the dirt track that curved up around the headland he found Nelson already sitting by the pool at the base of the tower. As usual, there was a tall drink on the table beside him.

'Did you get all that? Gore asked as he sat down.

'I got it all. I just don't think I believe much of it. For a start she's being very glib about the Pilgrimage ships actually getting inside. What are you going to do?

'I knew they wanted the kind of abilities the Void fabric has, that's a logical development on the way to becoming post-physical, but I'm concerned about their method of acquisition. I don't believe a damn word about some bunch of selfless academics going with the Pilgrimage to study how the thing is put together. We're going to have to root around a little harder to find out what they're really up to out there. Find out what you can about that guy Marius was visiting on Arevalo, that physicist: Troblum.

'Will do. And what if ANA does finally become capable of ascending to post-physical status?

'I've always known it would right from the start. That was the whole point of it — well, that and giving ourselves the ability to defend the Commonwealth.

'Are you going to try and stop it?

'Of course not. I just don't want the natural process hijacked. And that's what's going to happen if we're not careful.

It was already night when Aaron's regrav capsule landed on the pad of St Mary's Clinic, just outside the reception block. He stepped out and looked round. The clinic was set in four square miles of thick forest, with individual buildings scattered across the landscape. Tall gistrel trees formed a dark wall around the pad, their long feathery branches blocking any view of the villas, medical blocks, spas, and leisure domes he knew were out there.

The only light came from the long windows of the reception block, thirty metres away, shining round the black trunks.

Corrie-Lyn stood beside him, straightening her blouse. Her face screwed up. 'Gosh, I love the whole gloomy jungle-with-wild-creatures look they've gone for. Very welcoming.

'Perhaps we could get your manic depression eradicated while we're here.

'Screw you.

'Now remember, darling, happy faces.

He gripped her hand and produced a big bright smile. She almost shook free, then remembered and drew a reluctant breath. 'Okay, but this better be quick.

The reception doors opened as they walked towards the low building. It was a plush interior, which looked as if it had been carved out of pink and gold marble, with secluded grotto chambers recessed into the wall of the central hall. Most of the chambers had been utilized by exclusive retail outlets as display booths for their inordinately expensive designer clothes and products.

Their personal clinician was waiting to greet them; Ruth Stol, who was clearly designed to promote the clinic's expertise, with a body that resembled a teenage goddess draped in semi-translucent silver and pink fabric. Even Aaron who was perfectly mission-focused took a moment to admire and smile at the vision of vitality who extended her flawless hand in greeting. His field functions detected a discreet scan from the building security net, which he deflected easily enough, showing the sensors an image of a moderately overweight man. The additional volume around his torso was actually provided by a bandolier harness carrying an array of weapons.

Ruth Stol was devoid of all enrichments, though she had more macrocellular clusters than the average Advancer, and her nervous system shone with impulses operating at the kind of rate which normal humans could only achieve with a serious dose of accelerants.

'Thank you so much for choosing our clinic Mr Telfer, she said. Her hand pressed against Aaron's palm, squeezing flirtatiously. His biononics ran a check for pheromone infiltration. Paranoid! But her touch and voice were definitely arousing him, his exovision grid showed his heart rate up, skin temperature rising.

'No infiltration, his u-shadow reported. So it was all natural, then. Hardly surprising. 'You're welcome, Corrie-Lyn said in a voice so cold it should have produced ice droplets.

'Er, yeah, Aaron mumbled belatedly. He reluctantly withdrew his hand, enjoying the coy amusement in the clinician's limpid green eyes. 'Thanks for seeing us at such short notice.

'We're always happy to help couples achieve a more secure relationship, Ruth Stol said. 'I believe you said you wanted twins?

'Twins? Corrie-Lyn repeated blankly.

'That's right. Aaron put an arm round Corrie-Lyn's shoulders, feeling the muscles locked rigid. 'The best we can have.

'Of course, Ruth Stol said. 'Boys or girls?

'Darling? Aaron enquired.

'Boys, Corrie-Lyn said.

'Do you have an idea of their physiological status?

'At least as good as you, Aaron told her, which produced another smile. 'And I'd like the pair of us to be advanced to that level, too. It's about time I went cutting edge. He patted his bulky stomach ruefully. 'Perhaps a little metabolism tweaking to thin me down.

'I'd be very grateful for that, Corrie-Lyn said. 'He's so repugnant to look at right now. Never mind sex.

'Oh darling, you promised not to mention that, Aaron said tightly.

She smiled brightly.

'It's a wonderful step to acknowledge any problems right at the start, Ruth Stol said. 'You'll be an enviable family. We can begin our appraisal tomorrow, and review what we can offer you. Our premium service will fast-track your changes; I don't expect this to take more than a couple of weeks. Were you intending to carry the twins yourself? she asked Corrie-Lyn. 'Or is it going to be a womb tank?

'Haven't decided, Corrie-Lyn smiled back. 'I love him enough to consider the physical burden, but you'll have to show me what you can do to make pregnancy easier before I commit.

'How sweet. I'll have a simulated sensory package of the full pregnancy option ready for you to review in the morning, and remember we can always reverse the changes afterwards.

'Lovely.

'We've given you villa 163, which has its own pool, and it's not far from block three where you'll receive your treatments.

'Excellent, Aaron said. 'I think I'll go and check out the main pool and the restaurants first, especially that Singapore Grill I've heard about. What about you, dear?

'It's been a long day. I'll go to the villa, and organize that. Corrie-Lyn eyed the various displays around the hall. 'After some shopping. I really like some of these designs.

'Don't spend too much. He gave her a farewell peck on the cheek and headed out of the door. His u-shadow extracted the clinic map from the local net, which would give the appearance of normality for another few minutes. 'Can you get into the vault? he asked it.

'No. There are no data channels into the vault'

Aaron took a path away from the landing pad which would lead to the main pool building, a large blue-tinted dome that housed a lush tropical environment, with the pool itself fashioned to resemble a lagoon. The path lit up like a strip of glowing yellow fog under his feet. 'What about the security system? he asked his u-shadow.

'I can only access the lower levels. All guests are under permanent surveillance of some kind, several are red-tagged.

'Really? Are we red-tagged?

'No.

'Will they know if I leave the path?

'Yes. Various passive sensors are feeding the smart core.

'Start some diversions, please. Trigger alerts and attack the security net in several places, well away from me. Nothing to warrant a police call out.

'Initiating.

Aaron left the path and started to run through the trees. His suit spun a stealth effect around him. After a minute slipping unseen through the forest he arrived at the administration block. There were two storeys above ground, while his research had shown ten floors cut into the bedrock beneath the forest. The secure storage vault was on the bottom. His field function scan revealed a complex array of sensors guarding the walls and surrounding swathe of garden.

He began to sprint past the last trees, accelerating hard with field-reinforced muscles until he was at the edge of the lawn, then jumped, extending his force field wide, shaping it into two long swept-back petals. Suspended between his invisible wings he glided directly at a specific window on the upper floor like a silent missile. He grinned into the air that rushed against his face and rippled his suit. Excitement was starting to build, which his biononics could only suppress so much. Even though he knew what he was going to have to do, he was still enjoying himself; this was what he existed for.

Aaron let out an em pulse from his biononics, targeted to disable the sensors and power supply around the window. When he was five metres from the wall, he triggered a disruptor effect. Glass turned to white powder and blew inwards with the sound of damp cloth being ripped. He cancelled his force field wings and dropped through the hole, hitting the floor with a roll.

Inside was a long finance department office. Deserted and dark. Door locked. He didn't use the disrupter effect, simply smashed it down with amplified muscle power. The corridor outside ran the length of the building. Orange emergency lighting produced strangely angled shadows across the walls. His scrambler effect knocked out the net across half of the building. He jogged to the emergency stairwell and burst through. Vaulted over the rail and landed with a loud thud on the concrete floor below, integral force field absorbing the impact. He scanned round.

Two security managers were sitting in the control centre, both heavily enriched. They were standing motionless as their u-shadows interfaced them with the clinic's security net and they struggled to make sense of what was happening across the forest.

The door broke apart as Aaron walked through it. Eight energy-dumps flew out from the bandolier straps under his suit, hand-sized black discs that zipped through the air like cybernetic hornets. They struck the security managers before either could fire a shot. Both of them were transformed into silhouettes of searing white light as their personal force-fields were relentlessly overloaded; tendrils of electricity lashed out from the incandescent shapes, grounding through the desks and chairs next to them. Ribbons of smoke crept up from the carpet round their feet. They began to thrash about as the discharge of energy soared to an unbearable thunderclap screech. Light panels in the ceiling detonated into splinters of bubbling plastic.

Aaron drew a jelly gun from the bandolier harness as the nimbus of light on the first manager began to fade. The man's force field flickered erratically into a purple and orange shroud. Dark shadows infiltrated the dying luminescence, exposing swathes of smouldering uniform. Aaron fired. The manager disintegrated in a spherical wave of gore that splattered across the room. After that, Aaron simply waited a few seconds until the energy-dumps completed their work on the second manager, and her force field spluttered out. The room was plunged into darkness as she fell to the floor in a sobbing heap, barely conscious.

He knelt beside her and took the surgical cutter from his pocket. The little black and silver gadget extended its eight malmetal arms as he placed it carefully on her head. Unlike Ruth Stol the clinic hadn't designed any beauty into the security manager. She had a plain round face with dark enriched eyes; the skin on her cheeks was red raw from the crackling electron currents. Tears were leaking across them as she gazed up at Aaron.

'Please, she croaked.

'Don't worry, he told her. 'You won't remember this night when you're re-lifed.

The cutter settled on the crown of her head like some vampiric creature, the arms tightening to obtain a better grip on her singed flesh. Microsurgery energy blades slid out and began to cut. Aaron waited with only the sound of gooey blood droplets drizzling down from the soot-caked ceiling to break the dark silence of the room.

'Procedure complete, his u-shadow reported.

Aaron reached down, and gently pulled the surgical cutter. It lifted upwards with a slimy sucking sound, taking the top of her skull with it. A small amount of blood welled up around the edges of the severed bone, dribbling down through the matted hair. Her exposed brain glistened a pale grey in the weak emergency lighting shining in from the corridor outside.

He poised his left hand a couple of centimetres above the gory naked flesh. The skin on his palm puckered up in seven little circles. Slender worm-like tendrils began to wriggle out of each apex. He brought the hand down on her brain, and manipulated his force field to bond the two together, preventing his hand from sliding, even fractionally. The tendrils insinuated themselves into her neurone structure, branching again and again like some plant root seeking moisture. These tips were hunting out distinct neural pathways, circumventing conscious control over not just her body but her thoughts.

Synapses were successfully violated and corrupted. His men-tallic software began to pull coherent strands out of the chaotic impulses.

Her name was Viertz Accu. A hundred and seventeen years old. Advancer heritage. Currently married to Asher Lei. Two children. The youngest, Harry, was two years old. She was upset that she'd pulled another late shift; little Harry did so like her reading to him before bedtime.

Aaron's software moved the acquisition focus up towards the present.

All earlier emotional content was now superseded by sheer terror. Body's sensory input was minimal, sinking below waves of pain from the force field collapse. One memory rising above all the others, bright and loud: the surgical cutter descending. Starting to repeat. Thoughts becoming incoherent as the memory degenerates into a psychosis loop. Limbs shake as bodyshock commences.

Forget that, Aaron's thoughts instruct the brain he now rules. He has to concentrate, to exert his own thoughts to squash the terror memory. His influence is assisted by the flawless positioning of the neurone override tendrils, making it impossible for her to resist. A different kind of mental pressure is then exerted. Her conscious thoughts wither to insensate status, effectively sinking her into a coma.

Stand, he commands the puppet body.

It straightens up, and Aaron rises beside it. His hand remains locked in place on top of her ruined head by the mucilage force field.

Clinic security system review. Schematics flip up into their mutual exovision, showing alert points. His u-shadow ends its roguish electronic assaults as he accesses the clinic net through Viertz's private secure link. False signals are generated within the administration building to replace the equipment he neutralized during his entry.

Codes. Up from Viertz's own memory and her macrocellular clusters spill file after file of codes for every aspect of the clinic. He deploys them to damp down the security net, reducing it to a level-zero state. Another set of commands reset the smartcore's alertness, convincing it that it was receiving malfunction warnings and the security managers now have everything under control.

Several operatives across the forest are calling in.

It's all right, he mouths and Viertz sends on a secure link. There's been a spate of glitches, those boogledamned glints have been getting into the cabling again. They were chewing on a node, little bastards. Boogledamned is a phrase Viertz is fond of. Glints are tiny native rodents infesting the forest and always causing problems to the clinic and its machinery, despite two illegal attempts by the management to exterminate them.

Generally the explanation is accepted. Viertz exchanges a few more in-character comments with colleagues, and signs off.

Vault.

They walk along the ground floor corridor, side by side, Aaron's hand still firmly in place on her head. Viertz's code opens the lift doors. Aaron extracts additional overrides which will clear him to accompany her down to the bottom.

The vault level poses more of a problem. It is covered in sensors, all of which are linked directly to the clinic smartcore through isolated, protected circuits. There are no overrides he can utilize to smooth his passage. If it sees him it will immediately query his identity.

The mission is now time-critical.

As the lift reaches the vault level, Aaron uses an em pulse to kill all power circuits and unguarded systems. His scrambler field disables the protected security network. The smartcore now knows something is wrong, but cannot detect what. The entire floor is an electronic dead zone.

Aaron slides the lift door open with his free hand. Metal provides considerable resistance. The activators emit a screech as they are buckled by the pressure he exerts. He steps into darkness. Field function scans and infrared imaging reveal the short, empty corridor ahead. He walks along it with the zombie Viertz marching beside him until they reach the large vault door of meta-bonded malmetal at the end. Both wall and door are guarded by a strong force field, powered independently from within. His free hand strokes across the undefended corridor wall until his fingers are resting over the armoured conduit carrying part of the security net's cabling. He presses down. A small disruptor pulse disintegrates the concrete. Dust pours out, and he pushes his hand deeper into the hole. He has to excavate up to his elbow until he reaches the conduit. There is a brief clash of energy fields and the conduit shatters, exposing the optical cables inside.

The fingertips of this hand extrude slender filaments which penetrate the optical cables, immersing themselves into the blaze of coherent light flashing along the interior. His enrichments are interfaced directly into the smartcore through an unprotected link. A torrent of destructive software is unleashed by his u-shadow, corroding the smartcore's primary routines like acid on skin. In the first eight milliseconds of the assault, the smartcore loses over half of its intellectual processing capacity. Its default preservation routines withdraw its connections to the vault security system, allowing it to retreat and lick its wounds in isolation.

Aaron's u-shadow turns its attention to the connections along the other end of the expropriated optical cable, and examines the security network inside the vault. It takes less than a second to map out the system's nodes and kubes allowing it to remove the smartcore's control and safeguard procedures. The force field switches off, and the thick door opens with a low swish of retracting malmetal.

Aaron removes his hand from the ragged hole. He and Viertz walk forward in tandem, passing through the air/dust shield with a gentle buzzt. Independent lighting panels click on, revealing a shiny oblong chamber filled with floor-to-ceiling racks of translucent pink plastic kubes.

The registry is a simple slim pedestal of metal just inside.

Viertz accesses the dormant software within. She is asked for her DNA-based authority certificate.

As he passes the threshold, Aaron's field scans reveal two strange energy signatures emerging from the walls on either side of the vault. It is the final failsafe to protect the priceless half-million secure memorycells within the vault. Not listed anywhere in the security net inventory, and quietly imported from a Central World where such technology is unexceptional. Two guards with heavy weapons enrichments sealed within the temporal suspension zone of exotic matter cages. Their enrichments were already fully powered up when they began their two-year duty period. They do not ask questions as they step back into real-time, they simply open fire.

Aaron's force field is immediately pushed close to overload as it struggles to protect him and Viertz. His disadvantage is terribly obvious as energy beams pummel into him and the woman. Dense waves of scarlet photons ignite with blinding ferocity around his chest and arms. He staggers back half a step.

Send authority certificate.

But the pedestal uses non-military grade hardware. It cannot receive and acknowledge any information in such a hostile electromagnetic environment.

'Shit! His bandolier belts launch a flock of electronic counter-measure drones and five niling-sponges. The guards twist away from the threat, ducking behind the racks. Aaron reaches out with his free hand and manages to grip the top of the pedestal as the last of the energy barrage drains away from his force field. The filaments emerge from his fingertips and try to burrow into the nodes and cables underneath the metal.

Both guards spin out from behind the racks and open fire again. The niling-sponges cluster together and activate their absorption horizons. Energy beams from the weapons curve bizarrely through the hot air to sink harmlessly into the black-star blooms now drifting sedately in front of Aaron. Their horizons start to expand significantly. The guards shift to kinetic carbines. Their hypervelocity projectiles are unaffected by the niling-sponges and smash against Aaron and Viertz. The force field flares bright copper, shading up towards carmine. Aaron can feel the strain the impacts are punishing his body with, reinforcement fields are struggling to hold him upright.

On your knees.

Viertz sinks quickly to the shiny floor, presenting a smaller, more stable target. His filaments have penetrated the metal casing of the pedestal, and begin to affiliate themselves with the fine mesh of optical strands beneath.

A couple of energy-dumpers skim towards Aaron. He shoots them with a simple ion shot from an enrichment in his forearm. His force field has to reformat momentarily to allow the ions through. It is a weakness which the guards exploit ruthlessly, concentrating their fire. He feels the kinetic projectiles lance into his shoulder and upper torso. Combat software reports five direct hits. Field scans reveal the nature of the foreign projectiles. Number one is a straight explosive, which is countered by a damping field, turning it to a lump of white hot metal. Two releases a pack of firewire tangles, which expand through his flesh, ripping it apart at a cellular level, incinerating as they go, wrecking biononic organelles. They can only be staved off by a specific frequency disrupter field to attack their molecular structure, which has a debilitating effect of the biononics still functional in the area. Three dispenses a nerve agent in sufficient quantity to exterminate five hundred humans. Biononics converge quickly to counteract the deadly toxin. Four is another explosive, neutralized along with one. Five is a cluster of micro-janglers, microbe-sized generators that jam his nervous system, inhibiting biononic and enrichment operations; a secondary function is to induce pain impulses. They require a scrambler field to kill them.

Blood pumps out from the cratered flesh and torn suit, to be flattened back beneath the reformatted force field. The surrounding fabric of his suit is quickly saturated. Biononics congregate around the edge of the wounds, acting in concert to knit the damage back together, sealing up veins, arteries, and capillaries. Inside his body the firewire tangles halt their expansion as the disrupter sabotages their molecular cohesion. It is too slow, they are causing a massive amount of damage. Damage which is amplified by the microjanglers.

Aaron flings his head back to scream in agony as the microscopic technology war is fought within his muscles and blood vessels. But still he keeps hold of both Viertz and the pedestal.

His biononics shut off a whole series of nerves, eliminating the pain and all sensation in his shoulder and arm. A disconcertingly large section of the medical status display in his exovision is flashing red. Nausea plagues him. Shivers run along his limbs. The field medic sac in his thigh pushes a dose of suppressants into his bloodstream.

Another wave of kinetics pound him. He is in danger of falling backwards. His biononics and enrichments are reaching maximum capacity. Countermeasure drones do their best to confuse the enemy targeting sensors, but the narrow confines of the vault almost make such systems irrelevant.

His filaments interface with the registry kube in the pedestal.

Send authority certificate.

The registry software acknowledges Viertz's authority. And the u-shadow runs a search for Inigo's secure store. It locates the memorycell. The physical coordinates are loaded into Aaron's combat routines. A volume of eight cubic centimetres to be held inviolate. The rest of the vault's structure is now expendable.

He lets go of the pedestal and Viertz. The woman slumps forward, a motion which jolts her unsecured brain. A fresh upwelling of blood bubbles out around the circle of cut bone. The protective swirl of niling-sponges deactivate, their black horizons folding in upon themselves. Aaron raises his head and smiles an animal snarl through the clear air at the guards. Their barrage has paused as they take stock.

'Payback time, he growls enthusiastically.

The first disruptor pulse smashes out. Half of the precious racks rupture in a maelstrom of molten plastic. Both guards stagger backwards. Jelly gun shots hammer at their force fields. Energy-dumpers zip about, launched by both sides. Black niling horizons expand and contract like inverse novas. Kinetic projectiles chew into the vault's concrete and marble walls. More racks suffer, shattering like antique glass. The plastic catches fire, molten rivulets streaking across the floor, spitting feeble flames from their leading edges.

Aaron positions himself between the guards and Inigo's memorycell, shielding it from any possible damage. He manages to puncture the force field of one guard's leg and fires the jelly gun into the gap. The leg instantly transforms to a liquid pulp of ruined cells. The guard screams as he topples over. His force field reconfigures over the stump, allowing the blood and gore to splash across the ground where it starts to steam softly. Energy-dumpers attach themselves to him like predatory rodents. He thrashes about helplessly as his force field diminishes.

Now it is just Aaron and the remaining guard. They advance on each other, each trusting in his own weapons enrichments. This is no longer a battle of software or even human wits. It is brute strength only which will prevail now.

At the end they resemble two atomic fireballs colliding. A shockwave of incandescent energy flares out from the impact, vaporizing everything it touches. One fireball is abruptly extinguished.

Aaron stands over the clutter of charcoal which seconds before was his opponent. While still staring down he extends his good arm sideways. An x-ray laser muzzle emerges from his forearm. Its beam slices through the head of the legless guard. Curves up to annihilate the man's memorycell. Aaron lets out a long sigh, then winces at the dull pain throbbing deep in his shoulder. When he glances at it, the blood stain has spread across most of his chest. The hole torn and burned through the suit fabric reveals nothing but a mangled patch of blackened skin seeping blood. His medical monitors report the firewire tangles have burrowed deep, the damage is extensive. Sharp stabs of pain from his left leg make him gasp. His knee almost gives way. Biononics act in concert to trace and eliminate the microjanglers that are cruising recklessly through his bloodstream. If they infiltrate his brain he will be in serious trouble. The medical sac is still pumping drugs into him to counter shock. Blood loss will become a problem very soon unless he can reach a medical facility. However, he remains functional, though he will have to undergo decontamination for the nerve agent. His biononics are not satisfied they have located all the toxin. The field scan function fine tunes itself, and scans again.

Aaron walks over to the rack containing Inigo's memorycell. Niling sponges flutter through the air, and return to his bandolier, snuggling back into their pouches. His feet crunch on a scree of fragments before squelching on blood and plastic magma. Then the memorycell is in his hand, and the most difficult stage of the mission is over.

Flames are taking hold across Viertz's uniform as he walks out of the vault. She has not moved from her kneeling position. Aaron shoots her through the head with the x-ray laser, an act of mercy in case her memorycell is still recording impulses. It's not like him, but he can afford to be magnanimous in the face of success.

Three minutes later Aaron made it out on to the roof of the administration block. He walked over to the edge, drawing breath in short gasps. The numb shoulder wound had started to cold-burn, radiating out waves of dizziness which his medical enrichments could barely prevent from overwhelming him. A terrible burst of pain from his legs, stomach and spine drilled into him, blinding him as he convulsed. Unseen in his exovision displays, the biononics reported progress in their quest to trace and eliminate the remaining elusive microjanglers still contaminating his blood.

Slowly, stiffly, he straightened up again. Teetering close to a two storey fall. His u-shadow reconnected to the Unisphere as soon as he clambered up out of the lift shaft, and reported that the remnant of the smartcore was yelling for help on just about every link the clinic had with the Unisphere.

'Police tactical troops are responding, the u-shadow informed him. 'Clinic security officers are arming themselves. Perimeter is sealing.

'We'd better leave then, Aaron said with bravado. He winced again at a shiver of phantom pain from his collar bone, and called Corrie-Lyn. 'Let's go. I'm at designated position one-A.

'Oh, she replied. 'Are you finished already?

For a moment he thought she was joking. 'What?

'I didn't realize you'd be that quick.

Anger swiftly turned him to ice. The schedule he'd given her was utterly clear cut. Not even the unexpected guards and subsequent fire fight had delayed him more than forty seconds. 'Where are you? His exovision was showing him a local map with the police cruisers closing on the clinic at mach eight.

'Er… I'm still in the reception area. You know they have some really nice clothes here, and Ruth Stol has actually been quite useful with styling. Who'd have thought it? I've already tried on a couple of these lovely wool—

'Get the fuck into the capsule! Right fucking now! he screamed. Tactical software assessed the situation, corresponding with his own instinct. The roof was far too exposed. Another involuntary shudder ran up his legs, and he went with it, tumbling over the edge, totally reliant on his combat software. The program formatted his force field to cushion his landing. Even so, the pain seemed to explode directly into his brain as he thudded into the ground. He rolled over and stumbled to his feet. Far too slowly.

'The doors won't open, Corrie-Lyn said. 'I can't get to the capsule. The alarm is going off. Wait… Ruth is telling me not to move.

Aaron groaned as he staggered erratically across the band of lawn surrounding the administration block. Not that the trees would provide the slightest cover, not against the kind of forces heading for him. Seeking darkness was a simple animal instinct.

'Take the bitch out, he told Corrie-Lyn.

'What?

'Hit her. Here's a combat program, he said, as his u-shadow shunted the appropriate file at her. 'Go for a disabling blow. Don't hesitate.

'I can't do that.

'Hit her. And call the capsule over. It can smash through the doors for you.

'Aaron, can't I just get the capsule to break in? I'm really not comfortable hitting someone without warning.

Aaron reached the treeline. His legs gave way, sending him sprawling in the dirt and spiky vines. Pain that was nothing to do with the microjanglers pulsed out from his damaged shoulder. 'Help, he croaked. 'Oh fuck it, Corrie-Lyn, get the capsule here. He started crawling. His exoimages were a blurred scintillation coursing round his constricting vision.

'Hey, she's grabbed me.

'Corrie-Lyn—

'Cow!

'I can't make it. He pushed against the damp sandy soil with his good arm, trying to lever himself back on to his feet. Two police capsules flashed silently overhead. A second later their hypersonic boom smashed him back down into the ground. Tree branches splintered from the violence of the sound. Aaron whimpered as he rolled on to his back.

'Oh Ozzie, there's blood everywhere. I think I've broken her nose. I didn't hit her hard, really.

'Get me, he whispered. He sent a single command thought to the niling-sponges in his bandolier harness. The little spheres soared away into the night, arching away over the waving trees. Violet laser beams sliced through the air, as bright as lightning forks. He grinned weakly. 'Wrong, he told the unseen police capsules.

The niling-sponges sucked down the energy which the capsules pumped into them. Theoretically the niling effect could absorb billions of kilowatt hours before reaching saturation point. Aaron had programmed a limit in. When the police weapons pumped their internal levels to that limit, the absorption effect reversed.

Five huge explosions blossomed high over the forest, sending out massive clashing pressure waves. The police capsules couldn't be damaged by the blast, their force fields were far too strong for that. But the wavefronts sent them tumbling through the night sky, spinning and flailing out beyond the edge of the forest as the regrav drives fought to counter the force. Down below, trees tumbled before the bedlam as if they were no stronger than paper, crashing into each other to create a domino effect radiating out from the five blast centres.

A blizzard of splinters and gravel snatched Aaron off the ground and sent him twirling five metres to bounce badly. Amazingly he was still holding the memorycell as he found himself flat on his back gazing up into a sky beset with an intricate webbing of lambent ion streamers.

'Corrie-Lyn, he called desperately.

Above him, the pretty sky was dimming to infinite black. There were no stars to be seen as the darkness engulfed him.