The Temporal Void

FOUR

Despite its size, there were few people in the Malfit Hall as the junior Cleric escorted Marius across the jet-black floor. Those who were there gave the Higher mistrustful glances as he glided along effortlessly. It was nothing personal, they simply didn't enjoy non-believers being in this hallowed place.

He passed into Liliala Hall, whose ceaseless storm played out across the ceiling. As he walked beneath the apex, lightning bolts arched between billowing clouds, searing narrow gaps in the vapour to reveal the bland Mars Twins. At the far end an arching door let them into the Mayor's suite of chambers. Ethan was waiting in the oval sanctum. It had been restored to its original state, the way the Waterwalker had arranged it while he was Mayor. Chairs and the desk were carved from muroak, and polished with natural wax, giving off a faint lavender scent. The three high diocletian windows on the wall behind the desk provided its occupant a splendid view out across Outer Circle Canal and the western corner of Golden Park, with the lazy green undulations of Low Moat filling the gulf to the crystal wall beyond.

'Thank you for coming, the Cleric Conservator said genially. He was sitting behind the desk, the hood of his white robe pulled forward. Even with the loose folds of fabric concealing the side of his head, the semi-organic modules were visible adhering to his skin.

Marius bowed respectfully. 'Thank you for seeing me, Conservator.

Ethan's hand fluttered in dismissal to the assistant Cleric.

'I trust you are almost recovered, Marius said as he stood in front of the desk. The air in his wake was tainted by wispy shadows from his shimmering black toga suit.

'Almost, Ethan smiled thinly. His hand rose to indicate the nodules. 'Only three remain, and my doctors tell me they will be removed before the end of the week. It is amazing how the human body's powers of recuperation can be bolstered by good news.

'Good news?

Ethan hesitated, wondering if the representative was trying to taunt him. 'A human has passed into the Void, with the help of the Second Dreamer.

'In an attempt to negotiate a rejection of your Pilgrimage.

'I doubt any ANA representative will comprehend the most basic tenet of the Void. It exists to embrace life, to elevate us to the highest pinnacle our poor spirits can aspire to.

'Indeed, Marius said, with a deliberate irony.

Ethan caught the implication, and smiled gracefully. 'With respect, I hardly consider you comparable to Justine Burnelli. From what I've seen, you remain firmly rooted in the physical aspects of the universe.

'I will accept that in the spirit I believe it was intended.

'Thank you, Ethan sank back in his chair, eyeing the representative curiously. At the start of his campaign to become Conservator he had been cautious about accepting the man's help. Like every aspirant for high office in history, he had used his aide to make the first exploratory contacts. Phelim had returned animated by the possibilities available. Ethan had agreed to listen. Politically, the assistance Marius provided was subtle and invaluable, allowing Ethan to build alliances within the Council and among the Clerics of the Orchard Palace, propelling him to a position where he could put himself forward for election with a great deal of confidence. Included with that was the offer of ultradrives for the pilgrimage ships, a gift that would generate a near-certain success. All of this had been given freely because their 'objectives' were complementary. And in all that time, Marius had never hinted what his Faction's objective actually was. Ethan knew it wouldn't be long now; it would be interesting to see what the price could possibly be.

'However, hasn't the Void itself demonstrated Justine's essential humanity by its response to her thoughts? Marius asked the question as if it was some easily dismissed oddity.

'One small dream, Ethan said. 'A fast glimpse of her predicament. She certainly hasn't found the Heart, or even a Skylord. As her eagerness to reach that star shows, she is concerned only with the physical.

'Yet she demonstrated the mental abilities available to the Waterwalker.

'She hardly has his strength.

'She was only awake for a few days of the Void's timescale, and she appeared to be acclimatizing comfortably.

'This too serves to reinforce our doctrine. The Void will become our salvation. The Second Dreamer will lead us to our destiny as the Dreamer Inigo always intended.

'I think we both know it wasn't the Second Dreamer who provided this latest glimpse from within the Void.

'Yes, Ethan conceded.

'Does Living Dream know who received Justine's thoughts and vision?

'No.

Marius smiled; on his round face with its thin nose, the gesture was unpleasant. 'Yet another Dreamer, Conservator? They seem to be coming quite commonplace.

'Three Dreamers in two hundred and seventy years is hardly «commonplace». But I do consider it significant that two have appeared so close together at this particular time. Events are coming to a climax, in accordance with the Dreamer Inigo's vision.

'Of course. I am gladdened that the Second Dreamer has proved it is physically possible to enter the Void, it must be inspirational to your movement.

'It is.

'And I don't have to emphasise how important the Second Dreamer is to you. How close are you to acquiring him?

Ethan smiled back into that barely-human face with its steady green eyes and humourless thoughts. 'Her. Actually.

'Really?

'Yes. We believe we have identified a possible candidate. Given that the welcome team on Viotia now have her identity it is impossible for her to elude us for any significant time.

'Congratulations, Conservator. It must be gratifying having your goal so close to realization.

'It is.

'How are you progressing with construction of the Pilgrimage ships?

'Again we are blessed by good fortune. The construction is on schedule. Would you like me to arrange a tour for you?

'Time, alas, is tight. In more ways than one.

'What do you mean?

'This isn't yet common knowledge, but the Commonwealth Navy sent a River-class warship to intercept the Ocisen Empire fleet. They were supposed to disable the command ship and deliver a warning.

'Supposed to?

'The Navy ship was destroyed. It would appear the Ocisens are stronger than Admiral Kazimir expected.

'Sweet Lady.

'Unless they are stopped, they will be here before your ships are completed. There will be no Pilgrimage.

'The principal justification behind ANA was to give the Commonwealth an unassailable defence against alien aggression following the Starflyer War. It was supposed to ensure complete technological superiority.

'Don't be too upset. It was, after all, just one ship. A stronger navy force should be sufficient to deter the Ocisen fleet. Even we concur with that prognosis.

'But there are no guarantees.

'There never are in life.

'There are in the Void, Ethan said reflectively. 'Unfortunately, we can't build the ships any faster.

'I know. We are all dependent on ANA.

'A wing and a prayer.

'Quite. On a happier note, now we are so close to success my sponsors have a request.

'Ah, Ethan widened his smile. He almost relished this. Would it be a preposterous heretical demand, or some simple requirement that would trigger a political avalanche in the wake of the Pilgrimage's departure? Was he going to welcome the stipulation, or fight it to his dying breath?

'We would like to send some observers with you.

'Observers? That implies they will remain aloof, which I sincerely doubt is possible within the Void.

'None the less, we would be grateful if you would take them with you.

'We welcome all those who would reach for the Void, whatever their initial reasons. How many?

'Two or three on each ship. We don't wish to burden you.

'I see. Though in truth Ethan didn't. He knew this must be momentous to whatever Faction Marius represented, yet even he was surprised by how eminently reasonable the request was. 'I will make sure enough suspension chambers are reserved.

'They will not be travelling in suspension.

'Is there a reason for that?

'They don't wish to.

Ethan considered that, wondering if this was where he should make his stand. Of course, there was no reasonable argument he could put forward against it. Only instinct. 'Will they be antagonistic to our Pilgrimage in any way?

'Your pardon, but they care nothing for your doctrine. They are merely scientists who wish to study the Void.

'And if I refuse?

Marius adopted an amused tone. 'You are trying to determine how honourable I am, if I will be awkward.

'Will you?

'More than most I have facilitated your rise to your current position. The gift of the ultradrive engines is phenomenally generous even by Higher standards. And when you accepted this, you knew we would ask a small favour in return.

'I did. And you know I will allow your colleagues to travel with us, I'm just trying to understand the motivation behind this, how badly you want it.

'Very badly indeed. The Void is a magnificent scientific-enigma. My sponsors believe it should be solved.

'Why would you want to «solve» something you can become a part of at any time.

'It is greater than us.

'And it will share itself with you.

'On its terms. To accept that is not in our nature.

'It is in mine.

'Shall I move to the threat now?

'Please do, Ethan said smoothly.

'Even with ultradrive, the Raiel present a problem. Clearly this previously unknown warrior caste will not let you approach the Void boundary. Allowing a lone human in a small ship to slip past is one thing, but the Pilgrimage ships with their millions of hopeful dreamers? You will either turn back or die. The resources they have available are phenomenal; I suspect even a full Commonwealth Navy escort would struggle to protect you, and Governance has quite clearly stated it will do no such thing.

'It is the last obstacle, Ethan admitted. The one downside to Justine's triumph, and shocking in its magnitude. He'd always known the Raiel opposed Pilgrimage, but no one had known they had such ships, or the resolution to prevent entry into the Void. The Unisphere commentators had been very keen to point this out over the last few hours. Pilgrimage to Certain Death, the less savoury ones had named it.

'In addition to the ultradrive, we can equip your ships with force fields which the Raiel cannot penetrate, Marius said.

'I find that claim difficult to believe.

'Nonetheless, we have such systems available.

'Your passengers.

'Yes.

'The Lady moves in mysterious ways. But… She would want your scientists granted the opportunity to achieve their destiny along with the rest of us.

Marius cocked his head to one side. 'I'm sure she would.

'I will have the cabins set aside for you.

'Thank you. Marius bowed, and rotated effortlessly. He moved towards the door. Just as he reached it he stopped. 'Oh yes, he said, still not facing Ethan. 'And we'll need a cargo hold in each ship for the equipment.

'Equipment?

'They will need instruments to study the Void, obviously. I will send details to your office.

The door opened, and Marius slipped through in a swirl of silent shadow.

Balmy sea air gusted across Golden Park, stirring the long branches of the cherry trees that were planted along the side of the giant plaza. A cloudless sky helped magnify the heat. In his cotton shirt and thick denim trousers, the Delivery Man was getting uncomfortably warm; and he didn't want to use his biononic functions to cool down for fear of attracting attention to himself. Inigo had supposedly chosen this spot to build Makkathran2 because the climate was almost identical to the original on Querencia. So because of that quest for perfection, he had to make do with a ridiculous wide-brimmed leather ranger hat, because that's what the natives back in the real Makkathran apparently used to wear to keep the midsummer sun from frying their brains. At least it left him indistinguishable from the rest of the crowd occupying the plaza.

Golden Park was lull every day now. The usual crowd had swollen considerably when the Second Dreamer rejected the Skylord as the faithful had sought guidance from their new Cleric Conservator; and from that day on they had flocked here to witness the monumental events elsewhere in the galaxy. The Delivery Man could appreciate that, feeling the kind of comfort that only ever came from being immersed in a multitude who shared beliefs and emotions. The most basic human need to belong, amplified by the gaiafield.

On a very minor level he was experiencing that himself, the longing to be back home, playing with the girls as night fell across London. Bath time. Stories at bedtime. A leisurely meal with Lizzie.

He didn't want to be here. It was that simple. This kind of observation was the kind of active operation the Faction had assured him he'd never be involved with. All he ever agreed to do for them was deliver essential items of equipment to the people who would use them. Inevitably, as the years progressed he'd allowed himself to be cajoled into assignments that entailed a great deal more than mere delivery. But this…

Once again he was keeping tabs on Marius. He'd done it before without protesting, though Marius always gave him the creeps. Which wasn't the kind of emotional nonsense a Higher should be infected with. It was just that his opposite number was a lot more professional at all this than he was. Nor did the unfolding events help his equilibrium; Justine's flight into the Void, the destruction of the Yenisey, the Viotia invasion; he couldn't imagine what the end effect on Commonwealth society would be. He just knew his place was at home, caring for his family in the face of such uncertainty. Instead, here he was wandering about with the crowds, making sure he was oozing the same emotional wonder and trepidation into the gaiafield as everyone else, wearing medieval clothes — generally blending in. He could see the Outer Circle Canal through the throng, with several gondolas sailing along sedately, backdropped by the Orchard Palace with its roof that resembled merging waves.

All the time he kept his eye on the wire and wood bridge which led over to the Palace's main entrance. It was the one Marius had walked over not an hour before. Remote sensors secreted around the canal watched the other bridges for him. Infiltrating systems inside the Palace itself was difficult. Living Dream employed some extremely sophisticated shielding and counter-intruder systems, though a number of stealthed micro-bots were currently inching their way inwards. Even if they managed to get past the great halls and into the Mayor's suite of chambers, they'd be too late.

The Delivery Man's biononic field scan function detected a familiar biononic signature ten metres away. He let out a resigned sigh, and turned to see Marius standing waiting. He was getting a lot of disapproving stares as his dark toga suit refracted the bright sunlight in abnormal undulations. But his implacable demeanour was enough to keep them away.

'Gotcha, Marius said.

The Delivery Man nodded. 'Yes. Congratulations.

'Fancy a drink?

'Why not?

Marius glide-walked his way across Golden Park, and over the ginger sandstone bridge into Ysidro. The Delivery Man narrowed his eyes as he took in the circular three-storey building with an improbable hexagonal rustication pattern on the walls. Tall lancet windows gave the appearance of some ancient human castle tower.

'Isn't this the one where— he began.

'Yes, Marius said.

They went into the tavern, and managed to find a quiet table by one of the windows. A waitress took their order, and quickly returned with a hot orange chocolate with marshmallows for the Delivery Man and a peppermint tea for Marius. Once she'd gone, they wove their screening shields together, creating an almost invisible yet secure bubble around the table.

The game is changing, Marius said.

'The game is the same, the stakes are rising, The Delivery Man countered.

'Fair enough. I don't like you because you symbolize what we're attempting to leave behind. But I respect you; you play by the rules. There are some people in our line of work who no longer do that.

'We didn't wreck Hanko.

'Hanko?

'Please! One of you fired a Hawking m-sink into it.

'Did we?

'Yes.

'Are you sure about that?

'Don't do that. Don't call me in for a drink and play the subversion recruiting routine. I chose my Faction because of my beliefs, just like you.

Marius raised his cup in salute. 'My apologies. My point is that you and I are both nearing the end of our usefulness to our respective Factions.

'No. If we hold things together you and I will continue in our current form. Only if you get to enact your particular Armageddon does everything alter.

'You don't have a clue what we're doing.

'Fusion is not a pretty concept. It assumes elevation to perpetual godhood. The conflict here at this table is enough to convince me that should not be allowed to happen; and we both know there are Factions a lot more radical than us.

'My apologies again. You have all the answers.

'Of course, you could choose to come over to us. That would undoubtedly mean the end of your Faction. Problem solved for everyone.

'I don't think so.

'I had to ask.

'I know.

The Delivery Man tried to sip his chocolate through the cap of semi-molten marshmallows. 'So now what?

'As I said, the game is changing. We are entering the last stages of an operation which has been centuries in the planning.

As such, it is no longer a game. Please do not think we will tolerate any interference.

'The human race for all our facets and our institutional stupidity is something I believe in. I admire our diversity, our stubbornness. The dynamic of conflict is one of our greatest traits.

'Please don't give me the "we're at our greatest when our backs are against the wall" speech.

'I can't because you seem to want to eliminate our conflict, our differences, to rebuild us in your image. I will not allow that to happen. My Faction will not permit that.

'Which is my point. You no longer have that luxury of choice, it was taken from you decades ago when we succeeded. This, today, this is just the result of our actions.

'You cannot believe that morally you have the right to elevate everyone to post-physical status whether they want that or not.

'We won't be taking everyone.

'Then stop trying to manipulate everyone.

'You seem determined to remain in the past. Is that your wife's influence?

The Delivery Man placed the chocolate cup on the table, it was all he could do not to shatter the china his grip had tightened so. 'Be very careful.

'We have the right to evolve.

'You do. You do not have the right to evolve the rest of us, nor ruin what we have built in the process.

'Much good your ANA: Governance has done you. It is the most conservative Faction of all.

'It made you possible.

'Exactly. And now like an enfeebled parent jealous of our youth and vision, it strives to hold us back.

'It neither encourages nor refuses your ambitions, it is neutral as always. We, on the other hand, are not. Find a way of doing what you want without harming others, without endangering the entire galaxy.

'We do neither. Von cannot stop us elevating ourselves into something glorious. Do not try. That is what I am saying to you. We have come to the end of this tedious routine, you and I. Next time we meet it will not be sitting in a tavern over a friendly drink.

'If that's the way it is, then that's the way it is. The Delivery Man watched Marius give him a sad little smile, then glide out of the tavern. Only then did he exhale a very shaky breath. 'Oh dear Ozzie, he hissed. 'I can't do this any more.

The storm had been rising steadily for three hours now. A continual cloud of miniature ice daggers were hurtling horizontally through the air, smashing into the ground crawler at close to a hundred miles an hour. The noise was astonishing, as if they were buffeting their way forwards through a jungle of glass.

As before, the land shifted without warning, sending the ground crawler rocking violently. Corrie-Lyn gripped her seat tighter. It was the fifth mini-quake in the last hour. And they were coming closer together.

'I'm sorry, Corrie-Lyn said. She was sitting beside Inigo as he attempted to steer them across hilly land locked into shape by the permafrost. All the loose snow that had accumulated in dunes and crevices was slowly and methodically being swept up by the wind, hardening further as it took to the air to join the atmospheric bedlam. They could see nothing through the narrow windscreen now, even the powerful headline beams created little more than a dusky glow in the merciless blizzard. The ground-crawler's sensors could only scan a derisory fifteen to twenty metres ahead. His biononic field scan function merely supplemented the perception.

'Nothing to be sorry for, Inigo told her. He reached out and gripped her hand. Corrie-Lyn leaned in towards him.

'If I hadn't come, none of this would have happened. Tin-restoration team would still be alive. You could have carried on rescuing people.

'The universe doesn't work like that. They would have found me; one way or another. I'm glad it was you.

'I've killed you. The tears were running freely down her freckled cheeks.

Inigo stopped the ground crawler and put his arms round her. 'That's just fright you're feeling. You must not blame anyone, least of all yourself.

'How can you be so calm?

'All I have seen, all Edeard showed me, it gives me hope. Hope doesn't die just because a life is lost, nor even a million lives. The human race carries on. We have before, many times, we will again.

'As stupid as ever, she grumbled, wiping at the tears.

He caught her hand, and brought it to his own face, then slowly licked the moisture from her fingers. 'That's my Corrie-Lyn.

She nestled up against him. 'I still think it's my fault. I should never have let that psychopath talk me into this.

'From what you've told me you didn't have a lot of choice.

'1 could have been bolder. I could have thrown him off a cliff like you did.

'Well, in the end that hasn't made a lot of difference, has it?

'I'd prefer not to spend my last moments with him, thank you.

'We're not dead yet. Inigo let go of her, and turned back to the console. 'Only another two hundred kilometres to my starship.

'You really have one?

'I really have one. Smart man, that Aaron, working that out.

The ground-crawler lurched forwards again. Corrie-Lyn came over from her seat to stand behind Inigo. Her hands massaged his shoulders.

'How far have we come?

'About eighty kilometres in the last seventeen hours. He nodded at the windscreen. 'It's getting worse out there. I'm guessing the quakes are the start of the implosion. No wonder the atmosphere is kicking up.

'We're not going to make it, are we?

'No.

She bent down and nipped his ear. 'Hey, you're a messiah. You're supposed to inspire your flock.

'Would the flock settle for certainty?

'I thought there were no absolutes.

'I can see you're going to be a difficult convert.

The ground crawler juddered alarmingly as the landscape outside heaved. Corrie-Lyn's grip tightened as she struggled against being thrown to the metal decking.

'Lady, Inigo grunted. The portal projecting the sensor images showed a crack in the ground running almost parallel to the ground crawler, in some places it was over two metres wide. It hadn't been there before the quake.

Inigo upped the speed of the tracks, sending them wobbling away from the crack.

'Why did you leave us? Corrie-Lyn asked.

'No great revelation, he said. 'I was tired. Tired of the expectations. Tired of the Council. Tired of the adulation.

'And me?

'No, never you. I wouldn't have stayed as long as I did if it hadn't been for you.

'I don't believe you.

Inigo laughed. 'If you're not an absolute, you're definitely a constant. Why don't you believe me?

'Because I know you, or I did back then. You believed in tin-dreams, in the life the Waterwalker showed us, the life we could live in the Void. You never tired, not of that, not of being our Dreamer. What happened?

'Maybe I shouldn't have left. Lady, look what's happened because I did. Ethan as Conservator! He was never elevated to Council for a reason, you know. Why did the conclave vote for him? What were you thinking of?

'Change, she snapped at him. 'Pilgrimage. The Second Dreamer made it possible, or at least believable. But that's not relevant, that's today, not seventy years ago. Why, Inigo? Don't you at least owe me that?

'There was a dream, he whispered. His mind released a deluge of sadness through his gaiamotes, strong enough to make her shudder in dismay.

'The Last Dream? she gasped. 'It's real?

'Not in the way rumour had it.

'But the Waterwalker died. That was his victory, he'd finally lived every life. The Skylords guided his soul to Odin's Sea. I was there, she growled. 'I lived that dream, the dream you gave us. I lay back on the pyre atop the tallest tower in Eyrie and watched the Skylords return to fill the sky above Makkathran. I rose with him while the whole city sang their hymn of farewell. I received his final gifting to the world. He went to the Heart of the Void! It was so beautiful, and I believed it. I believed in you. Corrie-Lyn shoved her way along the side of Inigo's chair, and knelt down, putting her face inches from his. 'That is the dream I recall so few times because it is so powerful I weep each time at what those of us trapped outside the Void never had. That is the dream that counts. That is the reason I am a member of Living Dream, your movement. And it is why I always will be no matter who is in charge or what ridiculous petty politics affect the Clerics. You gave us that. You made us dream.

Inigo stared at the sensor projection of the treacherous ground, refusing to meet her eye. His gaiamotes closed up, shutting off his emotions.

'Tell me, she demanded, so frightened she was trembling. 'Tell me what dream you had.

'It's just me, he said. 'That's all. It was just my reaction. There's nothing to stop the Pilgrimage, nothing to prevent the faithful from achieving their perfect lives. It just affected me.

'What is it? Please, Inigo?

'I had one more dream, he said, still watching the display. 'I saw what happened to Querencia afterwards. After the Waterwalker died. It was the life of one of his descendants living in Makkathran.

'What did they do? she asked. 'Did they misuse the gift?

The ground quaked again.

'No, Inigo said, with a faint smile. 'They used it perfectly.

Corrie-Lyn grimaced in annoyance as the quake got worse. She clutched at the back of Inigo's seat. Both of them looked at each other as the crawler began to tip over. The sensor display showed the ground lifting and splitting.

Inigo loaded a quick sequence into the ground crawler's small smartnet. Anchors fired out of the lower fuselage, drilling long spikes deep into the frigid soil. Superstrength cables rewound, the tension tightening the heavy machine's grip on the anchors.

'Inigo, Corrie-Lyn wailed.

He gripped her hand. 'We're together, he promised, and opened his mind to her again.

The ground beneath the crawler heaved with a profound roaring. All six anchor spikes came flying back out of the disintegrating soil, crashing into the side of the vehicle with an almighty clang.

'Together.

The ground crawler started to roll. Corrie-Lyn yelled in panic as she was thrown into the side of the cabin, then the walls carried on moving. Inigo was hanging upside down in his seat as the safety webbing held him in place. Corrie-Lyn tumbled down towards the back of the cabin as the angle shifted. The ground crawler was skidding along on its roof. Another judder from the ground pushed it up on its nose and twisted. Several storage locker doors popped open, releasing a clutch of clothes and crockery and food packets that pelted through the interior, bounding about dangerously.

Corrie-Lyn lost her hold on the galley section to be tossed about. She felt her arm break as she hit the external door. The pain was awful, dulling her mind, even the cabin dipped into grey. She actually thought: This is the end.

A couple of miserable breaths later and she was still whimpering where she'd fallen. The ground crawler had stopped moving.

'Hang on, Inigo called above the constant clamour of the blizzard. 'I'm coming.

She watched him through a haze as her stomach grew very queasy. He had to climb up the side of the forward cabin, twisting round the front chairs with a contortionist's agility. Somehow the ground crawler had finished up standing on its nose, with the deck inclined.

Inigo wound up sitting on the back of the driver's chair, cradling her. She stared up at the bulkhead above with its small storage locker doors swinging open.

'My arm, she cried. The dull pain was rising to hot agony. Her exovision medical displays were flashing up tissue damage summaries.

Inigo looked round the cabin. 'These crawlers always have medic packs; there'll be one around somewhere. Get your nerves to shut down the pain.

She nodded, which nearly made her squeal. Concentrating on the physiological icons was difficult, but eventually her secondary routines were closing off nerves to her arm. Her ankle was damaged, too, though that was minor compared to the arm. She let out a huge sigh as the pain faded. Nothing she could do about the queasiness, however.

Inigo left her to rummage through all the junk that was cluttered round them. He found a first aid pack. The case started to analyse the data her macrocellular clusters gave it, and opened up various plyplastic appendages which wiggled across her shoulder. Inigo cut away her sleeve to give it access to her skin.

'Now what? she asked.

He glanced at the portal display, which remained resolutely blank. 'We're wedged into a fissure, with our arse sticking up into the air. How's that for dignity.

'Can your field functions get us out?

'Not easily. 1 suppose I can give it a go, though.

'That's good. I was almost worried there.

He chuckled, and stroked her face. 'We'll just wait a minute. I want to be certain you're all right before I leave you.

'I don't want you to leave right away, she said shakily. 'Then I'll stay. We're not in any hurry. Not today.

The Alexis Denken was only ninety minutes out from Arevalo when Kazimir called.

'We just lost our communication link with the Lindau, he said.

Paula, who was sitting at her piano trying to master 'Fur Elise' yet again, let her shoulders slump. 'Oh crap. I thought you were going to warn them to be careful.

'I did. Evidently I wasn't clear enough.

'So now Aaron has a Navy ship?

'A scout ship. And it might be Inigo.

'Or the Waterwalker himself. Or Nigel's come back. Or maybe… But she didn't finish that one.

'There's no need to be cruel.

'We're getting stretched very thin, Kazimir.

'I know. But there is some good news. The Lindau might not be communicating, but I can still keep track of it.

'How?

'There's a secondary transdimensional channel generated by all navy ship drives. It's used for one thing only, to supply us with their location for precisely this reason.

'I never knew that. So where is it now?

'Still on Hanko.

'Interesting. If you're Aaron and you've got yourself a lifeboat, why wait around on a planet that's about to implode?

'To find what you originally came for.

'Exactly. Keep me updated.

'Of course.

'Are you going to send another ship?

'The Yangtze is already on its way; I doubt it will get there in time.

'A River-class no less? You are taking this seriously now. Let us hope it has better luck than the Yenisey. 'And the Lindau.

It was raining outside Colwyn City, turbid clouds drizzling the fields and hills with a slick of cold water. A morose day whose lack of wind condemned it to suffer under mist which stifled the land and obscured the upper skies with their pink cirro-stratus clouds. However, inside the force fields, it was dry and sunny as the gloom was diverted round the curving protective barriers.

The woman was making the most of the artificial climate, walking in a leisurely way up Daryad Avenue's pronounced slope to window shop. Almost half of the stores along the avenue were open, though most of the bars and restaurants were shut. Supply deliveries were non-existent in Colwyn now that the invaders had shut down all capsule flights.

Most people in the city centre that morning were heading down the slope towards the river. It was the day the Senate delegation was due to arrive. The residents wanted to give them a welcome they couldn't ignore as their starship touched down at the docks. Already, the crowds were swelling round the sealed up perimeter.

The woman either didn't care or didn't know. She was young, and attractive, wearing a fashionable grey-blue dress whose skirt showed off long legs. Men making their way down the slope cast admiring glances and pinged her. She smiled loftily, ignoring the attention. She also somehow managed to ignore the Ellezelin paramilitary capsules racing low overhead, their sirens screeching and dousing the pavement with strobing lasers.

Ignoring them to a degree that she was unaware of three larger capsules prowling the sky above the avenue's rooftops. Unaware as they suddenly stopped their circling to powerdive. She was still unaware right up to the moment when their seven-gee deceleration smacked them down beside her with such force their pressure waves burst the glass window she was looking through. She screamed as she was shoved painfully to her knees amid the glittering shards, her arms folded round her head to try and protect her. The big capsules halted, floating ten centimetres above the concrete. Their malmetal doors opened fast, and Major Honilar jumped out, leading his welcome team into a surround and secure formation, putting the woman at the centre of a circle produced by the nozzles of fifteen high calibre energy weapons. She was screaming incoherently as they encircled her, blood running from a hundred tiny glass nicks, her dress all but shredded.

'Shut the fuck up, Major Honilar bellowed at her.

Everyone on the outside of the three capsules who had flung themselves flat, lifted their heads to see what in Ozzie's name was going on. They saw an armour suited figure grab the woman's hair and lift her brutally to her feet. Saw the agony on her mutilated face. Saw the horrific amount of blood saturating her clothes, dripping liberally on to the pavement. Several of the more astute ones delivered what they were seeing directly to Unisphere news stations.

'Araminta, you are now in the protective custody of the Intermediate Ellezelin forces. The suited figure pushed her towards the nearest capsule.

'Hey! someone on the street protested.

One of the welcome team fired a small enhanced explosive projectile over their heads. The detonation forced everyone to cower on the floor again.

'If anyone attempts to interfere with our operation they will be shot, Major Honilar announced loudly. He pushed the bloody, sobbing woman into his capsule, which lifted immediately, its malmetal door still closing as it reached rooftop height. The remainder of the welcome team retreated back into their capsules, covering the prone bystanders in a classic hostile withdrawal protocol.

Sitting drinking their morning tea on the balcony of the cafe opposite the drama, Oscar and his team watched the last capsule lift hurriedly into the city's artificially clear sky.

'Good deployment, Beckia said with grudging admiration. She was wearing a silver-edged beret in the local style, helping to make her look even more beguiling.

'As subtle as a kick in the balls, Tomansio retorted dismissively. 'Look at them. He waved a hand towards the stunned citizens who were slowly picking themselves up. There was a lot of anger on their faces.

Oscar watched several of them shaking their fists at the sky, shouting obscenities. He was glad he was back wearing civilian clothes. It wasn't going to be pleasant for any of the Ellezelin troops caught alone after today.

'I think Major Honilar is getting somewhat aggrieved, Beckia said. 'What's that, the fifth Araminta the recognition programs have found for him this morning?

'Liatris is doing well, Tomansio said.

'I doubt the latest victim thinks that, Oscar said. He couldn't drink his cinnamon-flavoured espresso now. The callousness he'd just witnessed was triggering a lot of guilt. The poor woman was perfectly innocent, her only crime to have roughly the same dimensions and features as the real Araminta. That way the whole incident could be blamed on the recognition software that had plucked her image from one of the streetwatch sensors along Daryad Avenue, alerting the welcome team to her location.

'This is your operation, Oscar, Tomansio rebuked. 'You knew what would have to be done. Don't go soft on us now.

'Of all the people in the galaxy, I am the one who really understands the concept of collateral damage best of all, Oscar announced.

'So you are. Then you know she was a necessary casualty.

'That doesn't make it right.

'Oscar, Ellezelin invading Viotia isn't right. Hunting Araminta isn't right, but we're all doing it because we all know she has to be found.

'What was her name? Oscar asked, staring down on the broad avenue. More people wore heading down the slope now, marching to the docks to make their demands heard by the Senate-delegation. It was all futile, he knew. Living Dream didn't care for their opinion, nor that of the Senate. The delegation and talks with Phelim and the Prime Minister were just buying the welcome team more time to find their target.

'Does it matter? Beckia asked.

'Yes, actually, it does, Oscar said. 'We used her.

'I'll have Liatris check it out when he has a moment, Tomansio said.

'Thank you.

Tomansio and Beckia finished their drinks. Oscar still couldn't bring himself to touch what was left of his. People were getting hurt, and he was the cause. He knew it was stupid, but he really hadn't considered that aspect of the operation when he agreed to help Paula. Dushiku's Unisphere interface code hung in his exovision, so very very tempting. Talking things through with his calm, rational partner would make things feel so much better. 11 was also a sign of weakness which the Knights Guardian wouldn't take too kindly. So he sighed when Tomansio and Beckia rose from the table and gave him an enquiring glance.

'Coming, he said.

They took a public cab from outside the cafe. It rode quickly and smoothly along the metro track that ran down the middle of Daryad Avenue, taking them up the slope into the grid of taller modern buildings. Ten minutes later it dropped them oil in the Palliser precinct, where they walked into a bar that was several social levels below the cafe they'd just left. It was wedged in between a trike repair garage and a wholesale packaging store. A cheap framework of composite which was supposed to have aircoral grown over it; only someone had messed up the pruning hormones leaving one corner and half the roof misshapen, with lumps and cracks. Plastic sheeting had been epoxied over most of the splits decades ago, sealing it against the elements, but they didn't look good. A lot of the patches were peeling away. The current owner had pushed them back and held them down with thick black tape. Sallow fungal weeds were growing out of the pocks on the roof, parasiting the aircoral's paltry nutrients.

Oscar glanced down to the far end of the street where the Colwyn City's big confluence nest building stood at the intersection, squat and aloof, looking fortress-like compared to the shabbiness of the structures around it.

Inside, the bar was little better, with the windows obscured by ancient hologram adverts and fading overhead lighting strips adding little to the illumination. Tables were scattered about on the ancient wood floor, interspaced with pool tables and tri-gamer stations. Only the counter had decent lighting, with suspended white globes projecting a monochrome glow across the beer pumps.

There were less than ten customers in total. Two hardcore barflies up on stools lining up shot glasses and aerosols, one loner sitting at a tri-game feeding it with his cash coin, and the others huddled round tables. They all ignored the newcomers.

Tomansio gave the bartender an order for four beers and they claimed a corner table. A service bot trundled over with their glasses. Two minutes later Cheriton sauntered in. He did draw some glances, with a big grey coat buttoned up tight so he didn't show off his 'native' Ellezelin clothes. Nothing he could do to disguise the hat, though, which he held in one hand.

'So? Tomansio asked as Cheriton sat down.

The gaiafield expert raised his glass as they used their biononics to establish a screening field. 'Paranoia reigns supreme. They've got the building net scanning and logging all calls. If I'd encrypted anything I sent they would have dropped a cage over me.

'Are they suspicious?

'Not of us, but they know someone is messing with the welcome team's search. We're not the only covert team here.

'Liatris has spotted at least two other infiltrations, Beckia said.

'Well between us we're certainly stirring up a yarsnapper nest of distrust. The Third Dreamer hasn't helped.

'I would have thought they'd enjoy that, Tomansio said. 'A near real-time connection into the Void that shows we can get inside, and we have psychic powers when we do get there.

'Living Dream certainly welcomes that, but it does raise questions about why our dear Cleric Conservator hasn't been chosen for any communing, nor the rest of the Cleric Council for that matter.

'Are they chasing after the Third Dreamer now as well? Oscar asked.

'No. Best guess is that it's someone with a strong natural connection to Justine.

'What do you mean, natural connection?

'It was always assumed Inigo was related to Edeard somehow, some distant family connection. As we don't know which colony ship wound up inside the Void, the link could never be proven So Living Dream is assuming the same for Justine.

'There can't be many left, Oscar said thoughtfully. 'She's been inside ANA for centuries. All her contemporaries are in their, too, that or they're real-dead.

'Apart from Admiral Kazimir, Cheriton said.

'No!

'Probably not, Cheriton admitted. 'But we'll never be able to trace it anyway. Justine's dream emanated from the Central worlds' gaiafield; where the Confluence nests are all built and maintained by Highers. Living Dream can't touch them.

'Thank Ozzie for that, Beckia said.

'Hang on, Oscar said. 'Araminta can hardly have a family connection to a Starflyer.

Cheriton grinned. 'It's not exactly a perfect theory.

'So Living Dream's emphasis is still on the Second Dreamer Tomansio asked.

'Very much so. Cheriton took another drink of the beer 'You need to get Liatris into my building's net and subvert I heir monitors to establish a secure channel for me. If he doesn't I'll have to go aggressive to get out if I send you a warning again.

'I'll tell him.

'What progress are you making with Danal and Mareble? Oscar asked.

'Some, though I'm not sure it's going to help much. Danal was given a memory read.

Everyone round the table winced.

'Yeah, Cheriton said. 'As were all the others they rounded up at the apartment raid. I took Mareble down to their headquarters in the docks. She got to see him, but he's still in custody, and she had a restriction order placed on her. As far as Major Honilar is now concerned, just knowing Araminta is a crime.

'So they're no use, then?

'I wouldn't say that, exactly.

Beckia gave Cheriton a knowing glance. 'You didn't?

'What could I do? The whole merry widow syndrome really kicked into overdrive for a while there. She was very upset when I got her back to her hotel room.

'Dear Ozzie, Oscar chuckled into his beer.

'It establishes me as a genuine supportive friend, Cheriton said, a shade too defensively. 'That could be useful. A lot of followers are having their faith shaken by the way Phelim is acting. This wasn't what they signed up for.

'Okay, good work, Tomansio said.

Cheriton put his beer back on the table. 'Have you got any idea where Araminta might be?

'Not one. Liatris is running a hundred analysis routines trying to figure out where she could have taken refuge. Honilar won't be far behind him; even he is eventually going to work out he's being deliberately distracted.

'Great. Then the paranoia will really kick in.

'They'll go for her family next, Oscar said miserably. 'Make a big splash of arresting them to flush her out.

'Do you want to warn them? Tomansio asked.

'If they believe us, and it's a big if, that might make it harder for Honilar to round them up. Worst case scenario it'll take him an extra half hour. You keep telling me every minute is precious.

'Sounds like a plan. I'll start calling them.

'I'd better get back, Cheriton said. He stood up and slipped through the privacy screen.

'Nothing from the monitors we've got on Cressida, Beckia said as they waited for Tomansio to complete his anonymous calls to Araminta's family. 'We'll go to Nik's next, see if any of her old colleagues can give us a hint where she might be.

'Sure, he said. His u-shadow told him Paula was calling on a secure channel.

'Any progress? she asked.

'The Second Dreamer is Araminta, a Viotia native. So far she's managed to give everyone the slip. We're chasing up what leads we've got, but we're not the only ones here.

'You're sure it's Araminta?

'Oh yes. Oscar smiled fondly as he recalled their second visit to the apartments. He'd actually laughed out loud when he saw the top of the water tank lying on the bathroom floor. And from what they could determine, she'd stopped for a cup of tea and some biscuits before scooting out of there. That was real class — or total insanity. Either way, he was rather looking forward to the time when he finally got to meet her. 'Living Dream knows it, too.

'Can you get her first?

'We'll do our best.

'I have something to tell you, Paula said.

'This doesn't sound good.

'There is a Faction agent in a very powerful starship, equivalent to yours. They just fired a black hole weapon into Hanko. The planet is currently imploding.

Oscar's skin turned chilly. He stared at the bar's colourful hologram adverts without seeing them. 'Hanko?

'Yes. I'm sorry, Oscar.

'But I captained the Dublin there during the Prime attack, ho protested weakly. 'We went through hell protecting Hanko.

'I know. This is a new and very dangerous type of weapon. No one expected it to be used like this. I'm telling you so you understand the Factions are becoming desperate. Be very careful acquiring this Araminta. It is not a game.

'I understand. Why was Hanko so important to them?

'Inigo may have been on it.

'Wow. I see. Did he escape?

'We don't know. There's no communication link to the planet any more.

'Shit.

'Oscar. There's something else. I'm telling you in case I vanish. I suspect there's a good chance the agent was the Cat.

'Oh no. No no no. Not her. She's in suspension. You put here there for fuck's sake. That was the one thing I made very sure of after they re-lifed me.

'I don't know for certain yet. And it'll only be a clone if it is her.

'Only a clone? Oh Jesus. Where is she?

'I don't know. But if she turns up on Viotia, your Knights Guardian might be tempted to jump ship.

'Oh fuck! he said that out loud, very loud. Beckia and Tomansio gave him a curious glance.

'Now you know, Paula said. 'You can take precautions.

'Precautions? Against the Cat, in an ultradrive ship, with a superweapon? What kind of deranged moron let her have these things in the first place?

'As I said, the Factions are getting desperate.

'Wait. Why would you vanish?

'She, or someone like her, tried to kill me. She'll probably try again. You know what she's like.

'I want to go home.

'And you will. Not long now.

'Damn, I hate you.

'Hate is good. It helps keep you focused.

'It's not good, he protested irritably. 'It makes you irrational.

'Which makes you unpredictable. Which gives your enemies a difficult time determining your actions. It will be harder for her to sot a trap for you.

'I didn't have any goddamn enemies before you dragged me into this.

'If you genuinely need back-up, I will come to Viotia. I simply prefer not to unless there is no alternative. Do you want me there?

Oscar took a long breath and glared up at the ceiling. 'No. 1 have everything perfectly under control. He told his u-shadow to end the call.

'Everything all right? Tomansio asked.

'Blissfully wonderful. Come on, let's get over to Nik's. While Viotia's still here.

The winds on Hanko had always presented a problem to star-ships, or any flying machine, whether they used ingrav or regrav. The pressure which the unpredictable turbulence produced on the hull pushed the vessels about as they neared the ground. At high altitude it didn't really matter, precision wasn't necessary above the cloud level. But close to the ground it became more of a problem. Squalls and microbursts could shove the whole ship down unexpectedly, bringing it perilously close to a crash. As a consequence, nothing flew below eight hundred metres unless they were landing at Jajaani. That was in ordinary conditions.

As the planet's frozen surface began to quake and buckle prior to its final, fatal implosion, the storms accelerated relentlessly with windspeeds rising to over two hundred kilometres an hour Aaron found there was only one way to fly through such an environment: using the kind of speed and power that no wind could ever affect.

The Lindau hit mach twelve as he took it down to an altitude of five hundred metres. At that velocity, through a dense typhoon of hail, it didn't so much fly as rip out a vacuum contrail.

Supersonic annular blast waves radiated out from the force field, blasting the ice and soil below to granulated ruin. A thick column of lightning blazed along its roiling wake before discharging into sheets that spread over hundreds of square kilometres. Far above the starship, the upper cloud level bulged and seethed as if some massive creature was clawing at the planetary blanket.

Aaron reached the end of his run, and an eight-gee acceleration vector lifted the Lindau vertical. Seconds later he was out of the clouds and curving sharply at ten gees through the ionosphere to bring the nose down again. The starship's on-board compensators managed to relieve four gees, leaving him exposed to a full six gee force. Biononics braced his body again as he was shoved back into the pilot's acceleration couch. The Lindau plunged back into the lower atmosphere. It immediately began to vibrate with a frequency and intensity that threatened to shake the whole structure apart. Even with biononic protection, Aaron could feel his bones and organs quiver as his flesh was squeezed. Alarms filled the cabin with a panicked howl. Red strobes drowned out the ordinary illumination, immersing him in hell's own lighting scheme. He heard overstressed metal tearing. Somewhere behind him high pressure gas roared out of a fracture. Toxic alarms added their unique note to the clamour. Aaron strengthened his integral force field.

Solar-bright lightning overwhelmed the hull's visual sensors as the starship began its new run five hundred metres from the ground. The vibration grew progressively more violent. Aaron ignored it all, scrutinizing every byte of data from the external sensors. Within the chaos of the terminal blizzard, the ship's instruments could only scan a few hundred metres with any accuracy. His search area was a huge zone that stretched from the Asiatic glacier back to the Olhava camp, which he was forced to cover in strips eight hundred metres wide — with a fifty metre overlap to be certain of complete coverage.

The Lindau completed its manic run, and punched upwards. A fuselage stress strut snapped, tearing through cables and pipes. Sparks sprayed into the cabin as half the polyphoto light panels failed. Smartcore schematics revealed a deeper problem of primary power loss to several drive support systems. Aaron shunted the display into a peripheral icon, and powerdived the starship back into the clouds at eleven gees.

The Delivery Man teleported directly into the hallway to hear Elsie and Tilly squabbling over who could play with the grav-ball. Elsie had it, and was running round the front lounge victoriously, holding the toy aloft and shouting: 'My turn, my turn.

Tilly was chasing after her sister trying to grab the ball back. 'Is not! she yelled in frustration. The paediatric housebot was floating after the two of them, maintaining the safety-regulated one point seven metres away, chiding melodiously: 'Children to stop climbing on furniture. There is danger in this activity. Please calm down. Share your toys. It is rewarding.

'Ratbag, Elsie shouted at the bot. She threw the grav-ball. It hit the upper surface of the bot, and rebounded in a cloud of blue holographic light to hit the ceiling, where it flattened out for five seconds, quivering, before launching itself at the wall amid another photonic fizz. Tilly and Elsie sprinted for it, little faces grim with determination. Both missed as it shot upwards again, making a ridiculous boning noise. Another bounce off tin-ceiling and it was heading straight for Lizzie's favourite vase, a fifteen-hundred-year-old Rebecca Lewis from her Bryn-Bella period.

The Delivery Man hated the flowery monstrosity, but managed to snatch the grav-ball from the air just before it hit.

'Daddy! Both girls immediately forgot their squabble and ran over for hugs.

'I've told you a hundred times you're not to play with this in the adult rooms, he scolded.

'Yes yes! The wrapped their arms around him, tugging as they jumped up and down in happy excitement.

'Where've you been?

'Did you bring presents?

He handed the grav-ball to the housebot. 'All over, and no.

'Awwww!

'I was too busy, sorry. Staying alive.

The three of them walked into the kitchen where Lizzie and a general housebot were preparing supper on the iron range cooker. Various pans were bubbling away, producing a melange of scents. It was dark outside, turning the windows into sheets of blackness coated in condensation.

Lizzie smiled and gave him a quick kiss. 'Glad you're back, she whispered.

'Me too.

Rosa tottered in from the conservatory, dressed in a red and black skirt with green stockings. 'Daa da.

'Hello poppet. He scooped her up, and tidied some of her dark red curls.

'She said bot, today, Lizzie said.

'Did you? the Delivery Man asked. Rosa smiled back, saying nothing.

'It could have been boot, Lizzie admitted. 'Can you three do something useful and lay the table, please.

The Delivery Man put Rosa down, and helped Tilly and Elsie arrange the knives and forks in the right places.

'I think I might cut down on investigations, the Delivery Man said as he found some wine glasses for himself and Lizzie.

'That's good, she said.

'At least the cases furthest away from the Central worlds. That should cut down on my away time considerably.

She rewarded the decision with a kiss. 'Thank you.

They all sat down together for supper. The housebot put a big casserole pot in the middle of the table, and lifted the lid off.

The Delivery man poked the serving spoon in, and lifted out some steaming—'What is this? he asked dubiously.

'Sausage stew, Tilly announced proudly. 'I made the sausages at school. We programmed the culinary cabinet down to level three for the ingredients.

'I made the tomatoes, Elsie said.

'It all looks lovely, the Delivery Man assured them. He tipped the stew on to the plate, and added some vegetables and potatoes. Lizzie sipped at the wine, and grinned at him over the rim of the glass.

When they finally got the children to bed, the Delivery Man lit the fire in the lounge. The Georgian townhouse was perfectly insulated against the wintry night, but as Lizzie had educated him, a real fire gave them a reassuring warmth inside. They snuggled up together on the big settee with the rest of the wine.

'I heard a rumour today, Lizzie said. 'You know what Jen's husband does?

'Er, not sure, really. For the first time in a long time he was actually relaxing rather than putting on a show of tranquillity.

'Something to do with the Navy. Anyway, she was telling me the Ocisen fleet might be more powerful than anyone is owning up to.

'Really? He knew it was only ever a matter of time before news of the Yenisey got out.

'Did you hear anything?

'No. But he did remember Marius's reaction to the news of Hanko. It was odd, as though the Accelerator Faction representative didn't know about the Hawking m-sink being used. Why would he try to bluff on that?

'And the news from Viotia was horrible. The Unisphere showed some poor woman being grabbed by the paramilitaries. They'd attacked her in the street for no reason.

'Terrible. Unless he genuinely didn't know. And if that's the case, who else would be able to get hold of one?

'I can see you're really bothered by it.

'Sorry.

'It's okay. She wiggled up closer. 'I am glad you're cutting back. You don't mind?

'I can pick it up again in twenty years. I just don't want to miss out on the kids growing up. It's a unique time.

Lizzie patted his leg as she tipped back some more wine. 'Good man.

While the Delivery Man was getting ready for bed that night the Conservative Faction called. 'We need you to deliver a starship to Pulap tomorrow.

'No, he told them. A quick guilty glance through the bathroom door showed Lizzie moving round in the bedroom. He shut the door. 'Not any more.

'This will be an entirely passive role for you, exactly as we originally promised. To the best of our knowledge there are no agents of any Faction on Pulap.

'If he catches me, you'll need to re-life me. I don't want that.

'There is someone else we will be using to monitor Marius from now on. An operative who takes a more active role than you.

'Oh.

'To reassure you further, Marius has just arrived on Ganthia.

'What's on Ganthia? He immediately cursed himself for asking.

'We're not sure. However, it is over two hundred light years from Pulap. We would not ask you to make this delivery unless it was urgent.

'I don't know.

'It will take us time to replace you. There was bound to be some overlap before your successor can be fully initiated.

'I didn't say I was going to stop helping you. He gave his image in the mirror an angry stare, then broke away and stuffed his clothes into the laundry basket. 'All right, I'll deliver the starship; but after this I want at least three days' notice of any assignment.

'Thank you.

Araminta didn't sleep much. The bed which the couch expanded into was fine, its ageing mattress accommodating and the duvet warm. The twins next door made no noise to bother her. It was all due to worry. Worry that any second the door would come crashing down and the Ellezelin paramilitaries would rampage through the little house to grab her, hurting Tandra and the children in the process.

I had no right to come here and put them in danger.

Worry, also, about what to do next. She knew who she wanted to talk to, but the how of it was difficult. In the hours she wasn't actively fretting she went through all the communication technology files stored in her lacuna. There were more than she realized; accumulated so she could hardwire her properties for Unisphere access and integrate domestic systems with the house net. They gave her quite a good base of practical knowledge. All she had to do then was work out how to apply it.

She kept examining the whole problem like some particularly stupid program. If A doesn't work, try B, then C. She was on Z for about the eighth time when morning light finally started to glow through the cheap paper blinds over the window. But that eighth Z was certainly possible, maybe even quite clever. It also had the big advantage that no one would be able to predict it. That was the crucial part. She wasn't under any illusions now about how desperate Living Dream was to catch her. Every aspect of her life would be analysed for clues. And every one would be pursued.

Araminta sat up as Tandra tried to tiptoe through the living room to the galley kitchen.

'Sorry, Tandra said. 'Did I wake you?

'No.

Tandra pulled the blinds up. 'Wow, you look terrible.

'Didn't sleep much, Araminta admitted.

Martyn emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a worn t-shirt and blue shorts. 'Morning, he mumbled, scratching his hair then moving on to his armpit.

'Still glad you came? Tandra asked lightly. She and Araminta started giggling as Martyn frowned at the pair of them. He walked through the archway to the kitchen.

'Can I steal some of your makeup? Araminta asked when she heard him banging cups and bowls about.

'Hell yes, honey, Tandra said. 'Half the membrane scales are way past their expiry date, but that's all a big con anyway. You use them, I sure don't get much chance to doll up.

'Thanks.

'You going to see a guy?

'Not quite, no.

'Okay. You want some coffee?

Araminta smiled. The coffee Martyn had produced from the galley kitchen last night had been terrible. 'Lovely, thank you.

Breakfast was a messy affair, with the five of them squeezed round the little table in the living room. The twins were playing up, taking forever to scoop down their cereal. Araminta munched on her toast, trying not to laugh as an increasingly exasperated Tandra threatened and pleaded with the children.

Afterwards, she sat on the bed in Tandra's room, and started applying the makeup scales. Tandra had a surprising number of cosmetic cases from various companies; some had been heavily used, while others were still untouched. Over half an hour Araminta managed to change the appearance of her features, disguising her rounded cheeks in favour of a more angular quality, careful shadowing under her jaw made it appear more prominent and square. Simple lenses changed her eye colour to a deep blue. She sprayed her hair, darkening it to near-raven; then plaited it in a way she hadn't done since high school.

Tandra bought her clothes in. 'Clean, and fixed as best as our poor old bot can manage. I must find a better stitching program. She dropped them on the mattress next to Araminta. 'Now that's different. I barely recognize you.

Araminta flashed her friend a grateful smile. 'Thanks.

'Don't want to worry you, Tandra said closing the door. 'But Matthew just called. There have been people in Nik's this morning asking after you. Three lots of people.

'Oh Ozzie. All the fear and panic from yesterday came storming back into lu-r mind.

Tandra sat beside her. 'Is it bad?

'About as bad as it can get. I'm going to leave right now. I should never have come.

'That's all right, honey, I could do with my life shaking up a bit.

Araminta shook off her borrowed robe, and began pulling her patched trousers on. 'Not like this. Listen, if anyone comes asking for me, you tell them the complete truth. All of it.

'What's to tell?

'That I was here. Don't deny anything. Don't hold back.

'Gee, if you're sure?

She pulled on her blouse, marvelling that Tandra's cleaner had managed to get the grass stains out of the elbows. 'Never more so.

With the toolbelt round her waist again, and the fleece covering it up she was ready to leave.

'Thank you again, she said at the door. Martyn's uncertain grin only made her feel more ashamed.

'You take care now, Tandra said, and kissed her goodbye.

Araminta walked fast for the first twenty minutes, close to a jog, putting as much distance as she could between her and Tandra's family. After that, with sweat soaking into her blouse she slowed a little, puffing away, hoping her flushed cheeks wouldn't dislodge the cosmetic membranes. She couldn't open the fleece to cool off, that would expose her toolbelt.

It was a long way to her destination, an office over in the Salisbury district, which was on the other side of town from Tandra's place. Quickest route would be straight through the centre, but she avoided that, anxious not to encounter too many people. Besides, there were more street sensors in the centre. So she walked in a long curve away from the river, then back down the slope to the north of the docks.

Three hours after she started she was in Salisbury. The buildings here were nearly all commercial, interspaced with a few estates of cheaper housing that had been shipped in from the

Suvorov continent, prefab aluminium brick rooms locked together into bungalows in whatever configuration suited the landlord. Their gardens were marked off with chain link fencing, containing straggly lawns or big areas of gravel chip, with several parked ground vehicles and the odd broken capsule.

The metro line cut through the centre of the district, with a small number of branch lines splitting off. A few cabs hummed past. Trike pods were the preferred transport, though there weren't many zipping about today. Bicycles outnumbered them nearly two to one. There were enough pedestrians that she didn't feel too conspicuous. Even the Ellezelin capsules didn't use the skies above Salisbury.

Araminta had never been to the district before, so it took her another hour walking down the main roads checking the signs before she found Harrogate Street. A deserted stub of concrete ending five hundred metres from the intersection in a big field of rubble from some stalled redevelopment project. Amazingly, a metro line ran all the way up to the barrier round the waste ground. The buildings on either side were a mix of offices and industrial units and storage barns.

Now she was conspicuous, the only person on the pavement where weeds had started to lift the cracked concrete, and compacted rubbish clogged the gutters. A third of the way towards the redevelopment site she found the building she wanted, a medium-sized warehouse of composite panels and cheap solar roofing. The front had a single storey lean-to built on, housing the company offices. The company in question being Genuine Spanish Crepes, as advertised by a small orange sign on the security caged front door. The windows were all boarded up with sheets of armoured carbotanium, and the side walls covered in graffiti scrawls so old their glow had decayed to near invisibility.

Araminta walked down the side of the warehouse. Right at the end of the wall there was a small door. She pulled her cutter out, and removed the lock with a neat incision.

Inside the big enclosed space, light shone in through a row of misted glass along tin- roof's apex. There were five loosely piled pyramids of boxes on the bare concrete floor, all with the Spanish Crepes logo on the side. She ignored them and hurried back to the offices at the front. Getting inside was easy enough. The door was locked but not alarmed. Laril was too cheap for that.

There were three offices, with budget furniture and fittings, looking as if the staff had just left for the day. Araminta hurriedly pulled down the blinds and began to search the offices one by one.

Spanish Crepes had been another of Laril's rotten companies. It was supposed to be a franchise supplying Colwyn City's larger entertainment venues; with dozens of stalls and swarms of eager staff supplying quality food at reasonable prices, and paying Laril for the privilege As always it had limped along as he battled with licensing authorities, while buying stock from the cheapest suppliers he could find. Then there were subsidiaries dealing in the stalls and culinary units themselves; financed with a buyback scheme based offworld. More interlinked yet unregistered companies provided uniforms and transport. None of it had been declared to the Revenue Service.

Araminta knew about it all because he'd left a file open one day on their apartment's network. She'd never told him she knew about it; she'd even kept it from Cressida. It was to be her very last bargaining point if all legal means failed.

A thorough inventory of every desk and cupboard produced very little. Useless hardcopy of confusing receipts and agreements. Sample boxes of exotic crepe fillings. Dead pot plants. Worn culinary unit components. Electronic modules — function unknown. Three cybersphere nodes. Kubes in neat storage cassettes. A box of company aprons in trial colours. A mid-capacity management array with out of date software.

However, as she sat at what must have been Laril's desk with its ancient console and three portals, she found five cash coins in the bottom draw, underneath some carry-capsule manuals. Difficult to find, but not necessarily suspicious, so they weren't there by accident. Like everything Laril did.

She held one of the coins up, and smiled at it. Good old Laril, dependably unreliable.

Thirty minutes spent opening up one of the nodes, using a handheld interface to adapt the software configuration, registering a new company Unisphere account with money from the cash coin, and she had a very basic communication link through the management array that didn't involve her u-shadow or include her identity. No tracer program or scrutineer would be able to place her at the Spanish Crepes office.

In theory.

She laboriously typed in the Oaktier code stored in her lacuna. The tiny array screen printed up icons showing the channel being established.

Please, she prayed, be curious enough to accept the call.

The portal projected Laril's puzzled face into the air in front of her. She surprised herself by her reaction. But the sight of that awfully familiar thin brown hair, rotund cheeks and excessive stubble brought tears to her eyes. It was just so unbelievably reassuring that he remained exactly the same as always.

'Araminta? Is that you? Have you reprofiled your face?

'Don't go, she blurted. 'I need help.

'Ah. I didn't know you knew about the, er, crepes company.

'Forget about that. Can you run a check to see if anyone is eavesdropping this link?

His eyes widened in amused surprise. 'Okay. U-shadow analysing the connection route. Ah hah. The channel seems clean, but I'm not a true expert on these things. Are you all right? I've tried to call a couple of times. I was worried when your u-shadow didn't respond.

Araminta took a deep breath. 'Laril, it's me they're after.

'You?

'I'm the Second Dreamer.

'You know the Second Dreamer?

'No. I am the Second Dreamer.

'You can't be.

Araminta scowled at the screen. This was Laril true enough, always the same, and never giving her credit. 'Why not?

'For a start, you don't have gaiamotes.

'Don't need them. She explained about her previously unknown ancestry.

'You're related to Mellanie Rescorai? was all he asked when she'd finished.

'You know of her?

'Who doesn't? Especially here on Oaktier, this was her birthworld.

Definitely Laril, no one else ever irritated her at this level. 'I… she shut her eyes, drew a breath, and looked directly at his projection. 'I don't know who else to go to.

He grinned, a hand reaching up to scratch the top of his right ear. 'Wow. I'm flattered.

'You said if there was ever anything…

'Yeah. Wasn't quite thinking along these lines, though.

'I see. You can always rely on Laril to let you down. She reached for the keyboard, ready to cut the channel.

'That doesn't mean I won't help, he said in that soft caring voice he hadn't used since their first week together.

'Really?

'I loved you then, and I guess I always will.

'Thank you.

'Sorry, but—You're really the Second Dreamer?

She smirked. 'Yeah.

'And you told the Skylord to get lost?

'I don't want to go into the Void, especially not leading some-crazy Pilgrimage for a bunch of religious nutters.

'Succinctly put. Unfortunately there are bigger issues to consider.

'I know. For a start, I've got half of Ellezelin's police force in the city looking for me. And Gore said there are others, too.

'What can I do?

'I don't know. It's just sort of instinct coming to you.

'Again: flattering, in a weird kind of way. But let's face it, if anyone can advise you how to stay ahead of officialdom, it's me.

'I'm not sure even you can help me on that score. Laril, the whole city is sliding into anarchy. Ellezelin is the only authority here. I don't think I can hide for ever.

'Okay, let me think for a moment here. He patted at his forehead theatrically.

'Have you got someone now? she asked quietly.

'Yes. At least, there's someone I've started to see regularly. She's just arrived on Oaktier, for the same reason as me.

'That's good. I'm pleased.

'Thanks. And you?

'Yes. You'd probably be surprised by him, but yes.

'So I have to ask, why isn't he helping you out?

'I don't want to involve him. It's a bit much.

'Okay, that tells me what I need to know.

'What?

'Now don't take this the wrong way, but you're thinking about this is all wrong.

'How?

'Too small. Basically what I'm saying is that it's not about you.

'It's very much about me.

'No. This is about the evolution of entire cultures and species. It might even be about the fate of the galaxy if you believe the Raiel. You play a part in that, a very minor part given the nature of the events playing out here.

She started to argue, but he held up a hand.

'However, he said, 'it is pivotal, and that's where your importance lies. You have a choice, Araminta, you can either be the small person, maybe try to run and hide. Then someone will catch up with you, and depending on who they are your role will be subsumed into their agenda. Don't make the mistake of thinking any of them will leave you alone to carry on as you see best. They won't.

'And my other choice? she asked waspishly.

'Try and beat them at their own game. Turn round, stop running, face them down, and use the power you've acquired to bring about your own tenets.

'What are they?

Laril laughed quietly. 'When you work that out you'll make the second choice automatically. Then: universe watch out.

Araminta slumped in the chair, and gave his image a dirty look. 'Oh why did I call you?

'Practicality. Listen. You'll either get there or they'll catch you first, so don't worry about it. In the meantime, I'll give you my advice, which you can ignore as always; but at least my conscience will be clean knowing I did my very best to help you.

She pouted. 'I didn't always ignore what you said.

'Excuse me, I must have missed the one time you said yes.

'Go on then. I called you after all, so let's hear it.

'Just let me take a moment. The galaxy's future poised on what I have to say, this is a real moment to savour.

'Get on with it.

His expression turned serious. 'Are you supplying Justine's dream?

'Justine is dreaming?

'Okay, well that answers that. Yes, she is, but she's gone into suspension, so that removes her from the outcome for a while. Which brings us back to you and your proven influence on the Skylord. If that is to mean anything you have to use it. Talk to the Skylord again.

'I can't. They have some way of tracking me through the gaiafield. I only just got out of my apartment the last time, and that was mostly luck.

'Ozzie! All right, you have to try and find a way, you need to talk to it.

'What do I say?

'Try to explain how many people want to come to the Void, try to make it understand how catastrophic that would be for the rest of the galaxy. If you don't want to be taken over by

Living Dream or a Faction as their unwitting figurehead, then you have to bring this to an end.

'Yeah, she said, exhaling heavily. 'I suppose I see that. I'll try using the gaiafield again, try and see if I can find a way round them finding me.

'That's a good start. It sounds like you have a different ability to everyone else, so there's a chance it'll work in your favour. Here's an idea, if you can use the gaiafield without them realizing, you might want to check out Inigo's dreams. At least you'll have a better understanding what you're up against. Failing that, you're supposed to be able to commune with the Silfen Motherholm. Who knows what they'll say?

'Thank you. That's actually—

'Useful?

'Very.

'All right then. Now what about you? Where are you staying?

'I haven't got anywhere.

'You're in the Spanish Crepes office, right?

'Yes.

'Bottom drawer of my desk you'll find a bunch of old manuals. Underneath them are some cash coins. Untraceable.

She held them up, trying not to smirk.

'Ozzie, he muttered. 'I never did fool you, did I?

'Not much.

'All right, there's a couple of thousand Viotia pounds loaded in. That'll help. Do you know about Wurung Transport?

'No.

'Okay, I'm not totally useless then. It's another company I ran. A garage unit in the building two down from where you are now. There's a fully licensed cab inside, just one, that's all the company owns. I can load the activation code in from here, so it'll be ready when you get to it. Now listen, there's some interesting software in its management system which allows you to avoid being tracked by the City control network.

'Why? she asked.

He gave an embarrassed shrug. 'It might be useful if there were things you wanted to move round town without drawing too much attention to yourself.

'Oh, Laril! There was concern as well as exasperation in her tone.

'Those days are over, he said. 'It also has a Unisphere node. I'll remote switch it to stand-by, you can use it any time to call me. No one else will be able to access it.

'Thank you.

'Araminta.

'Yes?

'I'm glad it was me you called. I'm glad I can help.

She stared at his image for a long moment. 'Why did you pick me? she asked quietly.

'Oldest reason for a man to have: you're gorgeous.

Ridiculously, she knew she was almost blushing. 'Don't change too much to become Higher.

'You know me. Good luck. Call me when you need to.

'Bye, Laril. She switched off the management array and the cybersphere node, then went out to check on Wurung Transport.

The Purus and the Congo slid unnoticed among the awesome Ocisen Empire fleet as it raced towards the Commonwealth at four and a half lightyears per hour. A detailed scan revealed no craft other than the Starslayers plunging onward through their wormholes, whoever the Ocisen Empire's allies were they had a drive technology at least equal to the Commonwealth Navy ships. They took up position a kilometre behind the new command vessel, and began to interfere with its continuous wormhole. After a sharp tussle of exotic energy the big Starslayer vessel was torn back into normal spacetime, its reaction control rockets firing continually to kill the errant rotation it picked up during the abrupt transition. Random flares of light slithered over its dark ovoid hull as the force field generators tried to regain equilibrium while the ftl drive's death throes spun out residual energy fluctuations. Both the Purus and the Congo dropped out of hyperdrive.

A featureless spherical starship appeared beside the wrecked Starslayer.

The Huron, the Nyasa, and the Baykal shed their stealth effect. The three Capital-class starships were almost as large as the Starslayer, and infinitely more potent. A second spherical starship materialized five kilometres from the first. The Onega and the Torrens revealed themselves.

For three seconds nothing happened. The humans held their breath.

Both the alien vessels opened fire.

It was ninety seconds before the ultra secure TD link to Pentagon II was re-established. The energy storm unleashed by the hellish firefight had strained the local structure of spacetime to a degree which even affected the underlying quantum fields, severing the link. Admiral Kazimir reviewed the updated situation fast. Both of the unknown ships had been destroyed, as had the Congo, while the Torrens had suffered so much damage it was unable to fight, though the crew survived. Most of the Starslayer's hull had evaporated from the titanic energy bursts, even though no one had aimed at it. What was left of the outer structure was glowing cherry-red, and bubbling furiously around the edges.

'Not completely invincible, then, Ilanthe said in a relieved tone.

'So it would appear, the Admiral agreed. They were all waiting to see if any more of the allies accompanying the fleet would turn back to assist their colleagues. The Capital-class ships had managed to detect fifty stealthed hyperdrives secreted amid the Starslayers. A truly formidable force.

'Maybe not invincible, but just about unstoppable, Crispin said. 'Do we have an equal number of Capital-class warships, Admiral?

'We have thirty-nine within deployment range, Kazimir told the depleted ExoProtectorate Council. He was dismayed that it was his own family that was missing. Whoever it was who had released his mother's dream into the gaiafield wasn't coming forward. Not that knowing their identity would be of any use — she would remain in suspension for some time. But it irked him to know that someone could reach her.

Even more dismaying was Gore's non-appearance. When Kazimir convened the ExoProtectorate Council, Gore's u-shadow reported him as unavailable. Kazimir couldn't imagine what would keep his grandfather from attending, especially as his absence would allow Ilanthe to dominate the Council. Not, he admitted to himself, that the outcome was going to be anything other than the one he really didn't want.

'The remaining unknowns are staying with the fleet, reported Sorex, the Onega's captain.

'Excellent, Kazimir replied. 'Could you get in close for a scan of the wreckage, please.

'So the fleet can be eliminated? Creewan asked urgently.

'Numerically it would be difficult, Kazimir said as the Onega dispatched a swarm of sensor drones towards the largest chunk of wreckage from the second spherical ship. 'As well as the unknowns, there are also nine hundred Starslayers to consider. Our combined River and Capital-class ships would probably defeat them, but the cost would be severe. We'd be left with very few vessels.

'Then we know what needs to be done, Ilanthe said. 'I believe there is one class of ship more powerful than the Capital-class.

'Yes, Kazimir said with extreme reluctance.

'Admiral, Sorex called. 'High resolution sensors are combining. Oh great Ozzie—

Kazimir and the rest of the ExoProtectorate Council stared silently at the sensor results which appeared above the big table. The little drones were flitting through the broken compartments and passageways of the spherical warship, contributing their separate scans to a cohesive image. The battered chunk of hardware was texture perfect, right down to individual structural components. Metal around the outside was still hot enough to glow. It was also terribly radioactive. Odd pieces of charred biological matter drifted around the compartments, torn from alien bodies as explosions and energy pulses ripped through the ship. Right in the middle, the bodies were larger. Intact. The drones concentrated on one.

Kazimir started at the terribly familiar pear-shaped torso, with four gristly ridges running it length. Four stubby legs protruded from the curving base, while arms branched out of the body just above the legs, each one ending in an efficient quad-pincer arrangement. At the top of the body four small mouth trunks were open, drifting in zero-gee like seaweed in a slow current. Between them were the sensory stalks, rigid in death, each one fused to a neat electronic module.

'That can't be, Crispin exclaimed. 'It can't! We contained them all twelve hundred years ago. All of them.

'It is, Ilanthe said emotionlessly.

'Yes, Kazimir said, fighting both shock and a tinge of fear. 'An immotile. The Ocisen Empire has acquired Primes as its allies.

The noise of ice crystals smashing themselves to sparkling dust on the ground-crawler's metal shell was making conversation difficult inside. Even under the constant barrage by the wild elements, the vehicle hadn't moved. It was wedged fast in the fissure, with its narrow front windows covered by dirty granules which had filled the gaps around it. Minor quakes continued to shake it about, but they only seemed to tighten the fissure's grip. Several times, the thick metal bodywork had groaned in protest.

Corrie-Lyn sat awkwardly on top of the two forward seats, a blanket wrapped round her shoulders. Inigo was using an auxiliary console to squat beside her.

'Why did you never dream again? Corrie-Lyn asked.

'The Waterwalker's era was over, Inigo said. 'You know that. There were no more dreams to be had.

'But if you had one following his ascent to the nebulas, there must have been others. You said it came from a descendant. He had many children.

'I… Inigo shook his head. His eyes glinted in the console's moire radiance as he gazed at his old lover. 'We witnessed everything we needed to. I sustained hope in billions of people for centuries. That's enough.

Corrie-Lyn studied the face looming above her. So familiar, yet the darkened skin and bad brown hair made him seem colder somehow. This wasn't quite the old Inigo she'd known and loved. After all, it's been seventy years. Dreams don't always end like the Waterwalker's did. And I dreamed so hard about this moment. 'Please, she began.

The atmosphere howled at a volume which was painful on her ears. She gripped the chair, fearful that this was the final quake, the one that would send them falling into the planet's imploding core.

'It's all right, Inigo's soft voice reassured her. 'Just the storm.

She grinned uncomfortably. That voice hadn't changed, and the reassurance she gained from it was immeasurable. So often she had heard his strident messages to the devout gathered in Golden Park, and equally the tenderness when they were alone. Every time it contained total conviction. If he said it was just the storm, then it was so.

'Can you dream again? she asked.

The cabin lights flickered. Red warnings appeared on the console as the tortured air outside wailed stridently. Inigo's fingers stroked her cheek. 'What is it you want? he asked, his mind lustrous with compassion.

'I want to go to Querencia one last time, she told him. 'I want to walk through Lillylight's arcades, I want to take a gondola ride down the Great Major Canal, I want to stand on Kristabel's hortus as dawn comes up over the city. She gripped his hand. 'Just us. Is that such a terrible thing to ask?

'No, he said. 'It's a beautiful thing to desire.

'Take us there. Until the end.

The tears were full-formed now, rolling down his cheeks. 'I can't, my love. I'm so sorry.

'No, she cried. 'Inigo, please.

'We can dream any of the Waterwalker's dreams together. Any. Just pick one.

'No. I know them all. Even his last one. I want to know what happened after. If you won't take me there as it is now, then show me that final dream you had.

'Corrie-Lyn, do you still trust me?

'Of course.

'Then don't ask this. Let us visit Edeard when he drops Master Cherix into Birmingham Pool, or as he confronts Bise and the regiment in Sampalok. They are such wonderful times. He shows people their future can be different to the one they thought they were condemned to.

'Why? she pleaded. 'Tell me why.

The storm noise ended. It cut off so fast that Corrie-Lyn thought she had suddenly gone deaf. This is it. No regrets. Well, not many.

'Oh shit, Inigo was looking up towards the rear of the cabin.

'It's all right, she said valiantly. 'We're together.

'Uh huh. He shook his head, straightening up.

Corrie-Lyn wriggled into a precarious near-sitting position. 'What?

'The Lady must hate us; she's guided us to a genuine fate worse than death.

'Inigo, what are you—

A blinding green flash filled the cabin. Corrie-Lyn squeezed her eyes shut in reflex. Her optic nerves were shining a blazing white and scarlet afterimage into her brain. She yelled in panic as some potent force slammed her sideways, sending her tumbling painfully down the side of the chairs to jam herself into the narrow space below. Her good arm waved round frantically. 'Inigo! Then she was abruptly aware of a fearsomely cold air flowing across her. She drew a shocked breath, feeling it freeze-burning down her mouth and throat. Her vision was slowly recovering. She blinked to see Inigo braced on the console above her, clad in a shimmering force field. He was still looking up. Almost dreading what she'd see, Corrie-Lyn followed his gaze.

The rear two-thirds of the ground-crawler cabin had completely vanished. Where it had been, grey ice particles were drifting slowly downwards through a funereal sky. Behind them, slivers of purple static writhed across the broad force field dome that now encased them in a bubble of serenity. A human figure was silhouetted against the curtailed storm, an integral force field providing additional protection from the wicked elements. Corrie-Lyn blinked again, trying to gain some focus through the sharp scintillations of her bruised retinas. Secondary thought routines in her macrocellular clusters managed to resolve the man's features.

'Oh Lady, fuck it, she groaned, and slumped back down.

'Well, well, Aaron said cheerfully. 'Fancy meeting you two here.