DEADFALL

‘Do you know what that arse-brained, git-headed, toss-pot has

done?’ Bernice threw herself into Braxiatel’s favourite

armchair.

‘I assume,’ Braxiatel said, handing her a mug of tea, ‘that

we are talking about your former betrothed. One Mr Jason

Kane.’

‘Irving, he stole the bloody Ardethan data crystal you gave

me! He’s going there now to plunder the place for whatever

twisted ends he’s got.’

Braxiatel nodded as he digested this. ‘Oh dear. That is not

good news, I’m afraid.’ He stirred his own mug of tea with a

pen. ‘Did your husband ever write a will?’

‘A what? Oh, I don’t know. Why?’

Braxiatel bit his bottom lip. ‘Because if what we think is

really on that planet is really on that planet, I think you’re

probably about to become a beneficiary to his estate.’

T

H

E

N

E

W

A

D

V

E

N

T

U

R

E

S

DEADFALL

Gary Russell

First published in Great Britain in 1997 by

Virgin Publishing Ltd

332 Ladbroke Grove

London W10 5AH

Copyright © Gary Russell 1997

The right of Gary Russell to be identified as the Author of this Work has

been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and

Patents Act 1988.

Bernice Summerfield originally created by Paul Cornell

Cover illustration by Jon Sullivan

ISBN 0 426 20513 8

Typeset by Galleon Typesetting, Ipswich

Printed and bound in Great Britain by

Mackays of Chatham PLC

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real

persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade

or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the

publisher‟s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other

than that in which it is published and without a similar condition

including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

For John

(at last...)

Acknowledgements

To the Audio Visuals crowd of „87 & „88 (John Ainsworth, Bill

Baggs, Heather Barker, Nick Briggs, Nigel Fairs, Andy Lane,

Paul Lunn, Jim Mortimore and Owen Parker) without

whom... And, of course, to those other valiant few who

brought something similar to this to life back then: Amanda,

Lorraine, Helen, Bernie and Julian. Justyce has finally been

served!

And here in the real world, special thanks to: David Bailey

(for the hell of it - is there a better reason?), John Binns (for

saying you thought it was a good idea and meaning it), Simon

Boucher-Jones (for the ICBMs), Matt Jones (for enthusiasm

and biographies), Trey Korte (for keeping me talking), Rhonda

Krafchin (for the flying penguins), Marc Piatt (for keeping up

traditions), Justin Richards (for the Baygent Apotheosis),

Simon Sadler (for keeping me supplied with musical

accompaniment), Paul Simpson and Jenn Fletcher (for

teaching me my ABC) and Dave Stone (for being so cool

about Jason).

Extra-special hugs and love to Neil Corry for devotion to

Deadfall in all its forms far above and beyond...

Extra-special thanks to the unknown person who devised

mint-flavoured Kit-Kats, without whom I would not have got

through this!

1

SO IMPORTANT

++ MESSAGE TO: OLIVER TOLLAND (GOVERNOR) ++

++ SCAVENGER SHIP #3

(DESIGNATION: MISTER KISS-KISS BANG-BANG) ++

++ VIA: COMMUNICATIONS SUBROUTINE OF BIOMORPHIC

ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE ++

Readouts of KayBee 2 cargo:

1)

Charlene Connor Convicted under Section 1 & 2 of

Administration Charter Against Drug (sargol) Abuse. 3

convictions for theft of Administration property.

2)

Lisa DeJoine Convicted under Administration Public

Order Charter. Also convicted of numerous assaults on

Administration Law Enforcement Officers.

3)

Jeni Grierson Convicted under Special Provision 5,

Administration Public Order Charter. +++ INFORMATION

WITHHELD PENDING FURTHER PSYCHIATRIC REPORTS

+++ ALSO CONVICTED FOR NUMEROUS PETTY THEFTS.

4)

Jay Hallett Convicted under Special Economic

Measures Act for Grand Fraud and theft of Administration

property. Convicted for assaults on a number of AMS

personnel.

5)

Siobhan Lloyd Convicted under Section 7 of Kastor

Major‟s Social Behaviour Act. 3 prior convictions of political

subversion.

6) ++ DETAILS UNDER REVIEW - MORE INFORMATION TO

FOLLOW ++

7) Ghoti Rimananee Convicted under Section 8 for

Embezzlement from the Administration.

8) Marianne Townsend Convicted under section 1 & 2 of

Administration Charter Against Drug (sargol) Abuse.

Convicted of Grievous Bodily Harm. Convicted on 7 counts

of Actual Bodily Harm.

Other Personnel

Warders: Two Grutcha Patrol Officers designated Cassius

and Brutus.

Medical Officer: Dr Ayn Kranton, transferred from the Cal 2

Medical Research Facility on Calfadoria.

Pilot: TBA

Co-Pilot: Stanley Blummer, PS Ancillary Dept.

Navigator: Lucien Ryne, PS Ancillary Dept.

++ REPORT TO CMMDR C. GODFREY, CAPE WOOMERA,

15.00 05/27/93 ++

ends

2

PROPAGANDA

„Blue rock, Captain. Just how often do you find planets made

entirely from blue rocks? Grey rocks, often. Brown rocks,

fairly often. Black rocks, not that often. But blue rocks?

Pretty rarely I have to say.‟

„Well, it looks fairly common here, Professor.‟ Captain

Elizabeth Lidiard put her hand to her forehead, trying to gaze

further away without squinting at the harsh sun which was

burning her skin. After eight years on the rim worlds, Lidiard

was used to bizarre locations, but this planet was a strange

one, to say the least. The odd rock formations that dotted the

otherwise flat blue plain nicely deconstructed the horizon,

but seemed very unnatural. One of her crew had suggested

that it was as if the rocks were watching them, waiting to see

what they did next. Lidiard had not considered anything so

fanciful before, but now she could not get the idea out of her

head.

„Sir?‟ Ensign Bunrat was hurrying from the base camp, as

quickly as she could bearing in mind the heat, her sleeveless

shirt soaked in sweat. „Sir?‟

Lidiard indicated that she had heard, but kept her eye on

the horizon.

„Sir, Commander Peacock just radioed down. He says the

Admin-Proctor‟s office wish to make an announcement about

the find and what updates have we got?‟

Lidiard looked to Professor Pierce. „Well, Professor? What

messages of glory can we send back to the Trigan to pass

back to System Central?‟

Before he could answer, Ensign Bunrat coughed slightly,

her already dark skin darkening slightly as if she were

embarrassed. „Sir,‟ she said quietly. „Commander Peacock

reported that the Admin-Proctor is en route to here - in the

Horatio!‟

Lidiard spat at the hard ground. „Great, that‟s just what we

need. Well, Professor?‟

Pierce was dismissive. „The Admin-Proctor can wait,

Captain. My university dictates the terms of this venture, not

System Central. Archaeology is not an exact science and

cannot be hurried. We have not even discovered any sites yet,

let alone found any conclusive evidence.‟

Lidiard sighed. It was not worth repeating, for at least the

fifth time, that his university was, in part, funded by System

Central‟s grants commission and as such the Admin-Proctor

probably had more right than most to insist on swift results.

And the argument over whether archaeology was an „exact

science‟, or indeed a science at all, was one she had been

forced to tolerate ever since setting out from Lyskos. Things

had been so much easier during the tail end of the war, when

ships like the Trigan were operated as they were intended,

patrolling demilitarized zones, ensuring that no exclusion

areas were breached, checking on newly recovered colonies,

all that sort of thing.

Bringing a party of intellectual snobs out to a blue rock on

the outer rim was not what Captain Lidiard considered a

good use of resources. She understood the politics of the

expedition - apparently this place, Ardethe, was home to

some legendary civilization, reported to have destroyed

themselves millions of years ago, leaving in their wake untold

scientific advances. If the current System Administration

could uncover this while in office (probably not for much

longer as Admin-Proctor Lucinda Vrana had not proved to be

the overnight success her campaign team had promised), it

would be a major publicity coup. Vrana was obviously on her

way here to ensure she was videoed at the entrance to

whatever den of riches Professor Pierce and his team could

dig up.

The only trouble was, they had barely started looking, and

they‟d been down here a week. Peacock was a fine man, and

she knew her ship was in safe hands, but still regretted

coming down with them. After being cooped up in the Trigan

for a few months, the chance for fresh air and natural

sunlight had been enticing to say the least. This unbearable

heat, the absolute brightness and the freezing cold night

made her long for sonic showers, recycled air and some water

that had been through the replamat fifty times.

„Bunrat,‟ she called. The eager young ensign was at her

side in a second. „Call Peacock. Tell him to use whatever

influence he has with Admiral Ellinsford aboard the Horatio

to ensure that the ship is slowed down. Tell him to be honest

with Ellinsford and say so far the professor has failed to find

anything. And that if the Horatio arrives and the Admin-

Proctor comes down to this hell-hole before we have more

results, he is as likely to find his head on a rusty spike as the

rest of us. And his pension will be cut. Yeah, get Peacock to

tell him that. With any luck, Ellinsford will scupper his

engines rather than let that happen.‟

„Right, sir.‟ Bunrat saluted and she headed back to the

shelter of the cave, where base camp was kept cool.

„Well, Professor,‟ said Lidiard, „you heard all that. I suggest

you shove a few fireworks up your team‟s rear ends and get

digging. Because I imagine the Admin-Proctor has less

tolerance than I have for any “exact sciences” and if she

comes all the way down here and gets one of her flashy

salmon dresses covered in blue dust for nothing, your

university is going to lose far more than just you and your

team‟s contracts.‟

„Is that a threat?‟ asked Pierce, staring at the captain

through his tinted pince-nez.

„No, Professor. No, it is a fact.‟

She smiled with satisfaction as Pierce wandered off,

shouting at his team as if it was all their fault he hadn‟t told

them where to dig. „Stupid git,‟ she muttered. „With any luck

you‟ll get heatstroke and have to be shuttled back. Then I

can take the excuse to go with you.‟

Her communicator bleeped, so she unclipped it from her

beltpack and spoke at it. „Lidiard.‟

„Sir?‟ It was Ensign Hurwitz, sounding far more excited

than he normally did. „Sir, Harries and I have discovered

something amazing, sir. I think you better come up here.‟

Lidiard looked up and around, trying to pinpoint the caller.

The last she remembered, Hurwitz and Harries were

scanning the horizon from the top of the rocky plateau that

the base camp‟s cave was located in. And if they thought she

was traipsing up there, in this heat...

There was a glint of metal at the plateau‟s top, about two

hundred feet up. Typical.

„Do you really need me up there, Hurwitz? Can‟t you just

tell me?‟ Inaction for days had tended to make her landing

party overzealous about everything. In Bunrat, whose recent

promotion from cadet was still making her excitable, Lidiard

could understand it. Hurwitz, Harries, Croft and the others

had been with Lidiard for some years now. Getting a thrill out

of space exploration should have been ground out of them

ages ago.

„Getting cynical, Captain?‟

The speaker was the only true civilian among them. Dr

Harper had been brought aboard at the behest of Professor

Pierce as the university had not supplied any medical officers

and the Trigan‟s MO was required by law, unless it was an

emergency, to stay aboard the ship. And so Harper had come

to Ardethe with them and made himself far too popular with

the crew for anyone‟s own good.

Including that of the captain, who threw an arm around his

waist and kissed him fully on the mouth, her tongue rapidly

tracing the inside of his mouth with pleasurable familiarity.

„Heavens, Captain, what if your crew saw that.‟

Lidiard smiled properly for the first time in the morning.

„My crew are well aware of what is going on, Bernard. But

you won‟t hear them talk about it, because they know that

anyone who does will be out with Pierce‟s team, digging – or

not, as the case seems to be - for eight hours in this heat.‟

She wiped what seemed a bucket‟s worth of sweat off her

forehead, letting it soak into the wristband caked in sweat

and dirt that had been clean only three hours ago.

Bernard Harper was an unusual doctor - very fit, very

young and very attractive, with grey eyes that always

twinkled from under this mop of black hair. He seemed a bit

too rebellious to be someone from such a starchy profession

as medicine, yet he was clearly respected. Especially by

Pierce, in whom she would not normally place much sense of

judgment, but in this case he had proved correct – Harper

was perfect. In every way.

He was adjusting his yellow-and-black-striped necktie,

which he always proudly wore. It was his one nod of respect

to the medical college that had educated him - its traditional

symbol of excellence, worn all over the system by graduates.

He was rarely seen without it - except stark naked in bed, of

course. Lidiard always enjoyed taking it off, slowly, slipping it

from around his neck and -

„What have your boys found up there?‟

Lidiard shrugged. „Haven‟t a clue. I suppose I ought to go.‟

She shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked up. „Just

the right sort of weather for a high climb.‟

Harper passed her a bottle of water. „Add this to your

backpack, Captain. Doctor‟s orders. The last thing we need is

you collapsing from exhaustion or dehydration halfway up.‟

„Right, Doc. Thanks.‟ Lidiard shoved the bottle into her

backpack, slipped the whole thing on to her shoulders (and,

she was sure, immediately sweated another bucketful) and

told Hurwitz to expect her in thirty minutes.

She and Harper touched each other‟s face and she smiled

again. „I could almost get to like you, Doctor,‟ she said.

„The feeling is mutual, Captain,‟ he answered. „Now get

going.‟

With a nod of farewell, Lidiard jogged over to the base of the

rocks and jumped on to a boulder, using it as a lever to

spring up to the nearest handhold.

She was incredibly fit - she had to be - but the heat

combined with the brightness made even the captain weary.

Her shorts kept riding up her backside, her sleeveless top

caught on too many lumps of rock and more than once she

had to take a longer route because either the backpack or

her six-foot-three-inch body forbade her to clamber through a

couple of small holes.

Two-thirds of the way up, she glanced behind her – the

view was nothing short of spectacular. From the ground it

was just blue rock, but from a height it was like glass, or a

solid sea. The various shades of blue were crammed together,

the strange rock formations like trees flanking strands of

powder blue or royal blue, depending on how the sunlight hit

them. No wonder Hurwitz had requested this duty for the

second day: the climb might be a pain, but the view was

breathtaking. If she was a poet, she could have written a

book about the views of the planet Ardethe.

Of course, they‟d shake a few of the established myths.

Ardethe was supposed to be a dull, sandy planet with small

reservoirs of green and red vegetation, according to the old

expeditions of hundreds of years ago. Still, a lot could

happen to a planet in a thousand years, although not enough

to turn the rocks blue! No, those old myths and legends were

proving to be just that - idealized dreams rather than

scientific fact. It was obvious that none of those old explorers

had really got out this far and found Ardethe. No, they had

given up and returned to spaceports and dodgy bars with

stories of their exploits. The old-style space prospectors were

like anglers back on Earth: always boasting about the size of

the one that got away.

After a bit more climbing, Lidiard found herself atop the

plateau, alongside Hurwitz and Harries. Hurwitz was

excitable; Harries was some way off, staring through a

portable optical enhancer, making notes on a datapad beside

him.

„It‟s the rocks, sir,‟ said Hurwitz. „Yesterday, I was facing

north but as the professor‟s team headed south today, we

opted to follow that path. That‟s when we realized.‟

„Realized what, Ensign?‟

„Best if you look for yourself, Captain.‟

Hurwitz reached out and took the captain‟s hand in his

eagerness, but she did not move. The young man realized his

error and apologized.

„I understand and appreciate your enthusiasm, Mr Hurwitz,

but I would remind you that senior officers are not for

tugging, dragging, pulling or any other kind of ing-ing. Is that

clear?‟

„Sorry, Captain.‟

„OK. Now, show me.‟

They quickly moved to the edge of the plateau and Harries

passed his captain the enhancer. „Straight ahead, sir,‟ he

said.

Lidiard brought the device to her eyes, and it automatically

read her retina print, accessed its memory for her lens and

refocused accordingly.

It was the strange rocky shapes. The things she had felt

uneasy about all this time.

„By the Goddess,‟ she breathed, lowering the enhancers.

She glanced at her two eager crewmen and looked again.

They weren‟t just rocks assembled for no reason. When

looked at from this height, from this angle, they were very

clearly tiny parts of a much larger whole. They were an

arrow, pointing south towards the horizon. Someone had left

a huge marker for them.

„Dog crap on toast!‟ she said. „I don‟t believe it.‟

Lidiard unclipped her communicator, mumbling a „Well

done‟ to Hurwitz and Harries. She called to Bunrat, whose

voice came crackling through almost before Lidiard had

finished asking for her.

„Bunrat, contact Professor Pierce, Dr Harper and then

Commander Peacock. I want an open channel to the ship set

up for twelve hundred hours. We‟re going to have a

conference call. I want everyone from our crew assembled in

the cave. I‟m leaving Hurwitz and Harries up here to

maintain observation. I‟m on my way down. Out.‟

She turned and smiled at her two crewmen. „You two all

right up here?‟

„Yes, sir.‟

„Good. Once I‟ve told everyone else, I‟ll get Croft and Sax to

replace you.‟ She smiled suddenly. „Do Sax some good to

climb up this mountain. She‟s getting a bit flabby.‟

The two men laughed. Sax was known for her obsession for

physical perfection, usually running the length of the Trigan

six times every morning and evening. Since being on Ardethe,

she had barely managed one circuit of the base of the rocks

before getting exhausted. No one disliked Sax, but they all

thought she was, well, a bit weird to be so committed to tiring

herself out.

When Lidiard reached the bottom, Sax and Lieutenant

Footman were waiting for her, ready to escort her into the

cavern and attend the open-channel meeting she had

requested.

Harper was there of course, opting to sit directly opposite

her rather than within arm‟s reach - sad, but good protocol.

Professor Pierce was there with young Tim Davies, his

assistant. Presumably he‟d abandoned the rest of the dig

team, leaving them to work in the sunshine. Well, that was

his prerogative - so long as it didn‟t endanger her mission or

crew, the archaeologists were under Pierce‟s supervision.

Ensign Bunrat was standing by the communications

equipment while Chief Lincoln operated it. Within seconds a

visual link had been established and Lidiard‟s exec,

Commander Peacock, was neatly framed in the holographic

globe, his face automatically following her as she walked

around the group, a typical Lidiard thing when she was

thinking aloud.

„We have a situation, gentlemen, that requires some

thought. Professor Pierce believes this planet to be Ardethe,

something of a legend I believe.‟

„That is correct,‟ said Pierce smugly. „Our researches have

shown us that this world is the most likely site for the

Ardethean culture.‟

Harper interjected. „“Most likely?” You‟re not one hundred

per cent sure?‟

„We cannot be a hundred per cent sure of anything, Doctor

Harper, until we begin excavations. But, off the record as it

were, I am convinced this is it, yes.‟

Lidiard nodded. „Commander Peacock reports that Lucinda

Vrana, System Administration‟s Admin-Proctor, is on her way

aboard the Horatio. As we all know, Admiral Ellinsford does

not drag the Horatio, with or without the Admin-Proctor,

literally across the galaxy on a whim. The discoveries which

are waiting to be made by Professor Pierce clearly have a

large appeal to the Administration, politically or otherwise. To

be frank, if the Ardetheans were as warlike and powerful as

we are led to believe, I imagine the Defence Ministry have

more than a slight interest in all this as well.‟

„If the Ardethean weaponry is found here, Captain Lidiard,

rest assured it will return to the university with me and will

not be made available to the ministry, no matter how much

they ask. This tour is for scientific purposes, not to enable

humans to blow other species out of existence.‟

Lidiard gave the professor a look that could only be

described as pitying, while Peacock actually laughed.

„Professor,‟ he said via the hologram, „your sentiments are

lovely, but I very much doubt you‟ll have any say in the

matter.‟

Pierce looked around the group, as if this possibility had

never occurred to him. Lidiard sighed - the man was so

naive, so stupid.

„But anyway,‟ she said, „all this is irrelevant at the moment.

So far, the professor‟s team have found nothing except piles

of blue rock.‟ She looked at the hologram of Peacock. „Robert,

any news yet on the Horatio?‟

Peacock smiled. „Admiral Ellinsford reports that part of his

drive system is faulty and being repaired. It puts the ship‟s

arrival back by four days. Maybe only three.‟

Lidiard nodded back appreciatively. „Good. Well, luckily for

you, Professor, my crew might have spotted something to

save all our bacons.‟

She told them about the alignment of the rock formations.

Harper was immediately sarcastic. „If it is a pointer, I bet it

was put there as a joke recently. I mean, who‟d shove great

arrows on their desert plains just to help survey and

archaeological teams?‟

„Someone trying to be helpful?‟ suggested Davies.

„Or someone trying to get us all killed,‟ said Harper. „After

all, the Ardetheans didn‟t know they were going to die, so

why spend so much time building arrows?‟

„I take everyone‟s point on this,‟ Lidiard said. „No pun

intended,‟ she added as Harper cast her a wry look. „I suggest

that Professor Pierce starts excavating the area that the

arrow indicates. I don‟t see what we have to lose bar about

half an hour‟s shuttle time getting there.‟

Harper stood up. „Well, I‟m ready to go. As the captain says,

not much to lose, is there?‟

Pierce was telling Davies to warn the others to be ready to

go. He then faced Lidiard. „Captain Lidiard, this is either a

monumental discovery, the implications of which we cannot

begin to theorize about, or it is a monumental wild-goose

chase. But if the Admin-Proctor wants results, I imagine we

cannot be seen not to try.‟ He marched away, Davies

scurrying along behind him, trying not to look too pathetic.

Lidiard shook her head. „Robert, see what you can make of

this arrow thing. Run it through the Trigan‟s memory banks.

See if the computer can come up with anything similar from

other worlds. And...‟ She stopped, aware that Robert

Peacock‟s attention had been distracted. Then his face

reappeared in the globe.

„Sorry, Captain. Stellar Cartography have detected

something unusual. Can I get back to you?‟

„Sure, but run that option past the computer, OK?‟

„Aye, Captain. Out.‟

The holograph globe disappeared and Chief Lincoln

switched off his equipment.

Lidiard turned to Footman. „Lieutenant, get everyone to the

shuttle. I want to be ready to take off in thirty minutes.‟ She

looked at Bunrat. „Ensign, I‟m according you the duty of

giving the professor‟s team a healthy kick up the arse if

they‟re slow.‟

Bunrat grinned. „Aye, Captain,‟ she said and hurried back

into the heat to do some kicking.

As Sax and Lincoln began clearing out the equipment,

Lidiard was left with Dr Harper. „Well, this is a turn-up for

the books, Bernard.‟

Harper nodded. „Interesting, though. The sort of thing

that‟ll keep fossils like Pierce talking for the rest of their

careers.‟

Lidiard nodded. „Yeah. And boring their students. C‟mon

lover, let‟s get to the shuttle.‟

Commander

Robert

Peacock

strode

into

Stellar

Cartography aboard the AMS Trigan and tapped the young

duty lieutenant on the shoulder. „Explain.‟

Lieutenant Fire-in-Veins pointed at her readouts. „It‟s odd,

sir. We didn‟t detect it before, simply because we weren‟t

expecting to sweep that far out. I only did because, well, I

was bored.‟

Peacock shrugged. „Better than playing poker with the

computer, Fire-in-Veins. What‟ve you found?‟

She looked at him, straight in the face. „As I understand it,

Commander, Ardethe is the seventh planet of this nine-

planet system.‟

„Correct.‟

„I‟ve found a tenth planet, sir. Look, there.‟ A hologram lit

up between them, showing an area of space, ten planets

orbiting a sun at the centre. A small blue globe indicated the

planet they were circling. As Peacock stared into the

hologram, his communicator bleeped. „Peacock.‟

It was Lieutenant Parker on the bridge. „Sir, we‟ve fed the

image uploaded from Ensign Harries‟ scanner into the

computer. It‟s beginning its search now. What parameters

shall I establish?‟

„None for now, Lieutenant. We‟ll wait and see what the

computer offers us.‟

His attention was back on the hologram. „Where did this

tenth planet come from, Fire-in-Veins?‟

„At a guess, sir? Well, from the way the planets orbit the

sun, I think it‟s always been there. My belief is that it‟s

another planet that‟s new.‟

„How new is new?‟

„In stellar terms? Pretty new. A few hundred thousand

years at most, possibly less.‟

Peacock nodded his understanding. „Any votes?‟

Fire-in-Veins sighed. „Sadly, yes sir. I‟ve put the orbits

through the computer, run them, compared them with every

other known information of orbits and

„And?‟

„And, sir, I think this planet we‟re above is the anomaly. I

don‟t think this is Ardethe. By Professor Pierce‟s calculations,

Ardethe is the next one along, but we couldn‟t see it on our

approach because something blocked our sensor sweeps.‟

Peacock was incredulous. „Deliberately blocked them? To

hide Ardethe?‟

„Or to bring us here, sir.‟

Peacock considered this. „Well done, Lieutenant.‟ He jabbed

at his communicator. „Bridge from Peacock.‟

„Sir?‟ It was Parker.

„Contact the captain. I want them all back up here

immediately. Put the ship on beta alert.‟

„Sir.‟

„Oh, Parker?‟

„Sir?‟

„Anything yet from the computer?‟

„No, sir.‟ Parker‟s minute hologram vanished from the

portable communicator.

Peacock patted Fire-in-Veins‟ shoulder. „Keep up the good

work. I‟ll be back on the bridge.‟

When Peacock stepped back on to the bridge of the AMS

Trigan, he knew something was wrong. The lights were

dimmed to red, the beta alert he had ordered had become an

alpha.

„Report,‟ he barked at Parker.

„Sir, the computer‟s gone haywire. It‟s transmitting a signal

somewhere back towards System Central on a frequency

we‟ve never used. To be frank, we didn‟t know the computer

could transmit on frequencies like this.‟

„Saying?‟

„Unknown, sir.‟ That was the voice of the young

communications chief, standing in for Lincoln.

„Did we pass a message to the landing party? Does Captain

Lidiard know of this yet?‟

„No sir,‟ said the chief. „The computer‟s blocked all our

outgoing sensors.‟

„Cruk!‟ That was Shinobi on sensors. „Commander, the

computer has gone down, totally.‟

„Confirmed,‟ reported at least four other stations.

„But before it did so, sir, I was reading something strange

from within the ship.‟ Shinobi was bashing fruitlessly at

computerized controls, suddenly denied him.

„Intership communications gone, sir,‟ reported the chief.

„We‟re cut off up here.‟

Peacock slammed a button on his own console. „Chief,

manual launch - log probe. The recording has stopped, but it

should have everything up to one minute ago.‟

„Manual launch confirmed, Commander. Probe on its way

back to the nearest System Admin base.‟

Peacock acknowledged this, and then crossed back to

sensor control. „Shinobi, what was it you detected?‟

„A power build-up, sir. The second the computer sent out

its odd message, I got a flash.‟

„Did you get a triangulation?‟

„Not really, Commander.‟

„Explain “not really”.‟

„Well, my best guess was that it came from the civilian

quarters. Possibly one of Professor Pierce‟s team.‟

„But they‟re all on the surface.‟

Parker suddenly gasped. „A bomb, sir. It could be a bomb.‟

Peacock was incredulous. „How? How would a bomb get

past our security, Lieutenant? That‟s simply not -‟

The Administration Military Ship Trigan promptly exploded

soundlessly into billions of minute fragments just above the

atmosphere of the blue planet that may or may not have been

Ardethe.

„Prepare for landing,‟ Lieutenant Footman called out.

The shuttle eased on to the blue rock at a precise location

computed by analysing Harries‟ scanner readings. They were

at the tip of the „arrow‟ - on the edge of a massive crater.

After a few minutes, the shuttle‟s hatches sprang open and

Lidiard led her crew and the civilians out, Bernard Harper at

her side.

Ensign Sax, her huge body towering a good foot taller than

her captain, was examining a portable scanner. „Captain,

we‟ve lost all contact with the Trigan. I can‟t raise her at all.‟

Lidiard operated her own communicator, but likewise got

nothing but static. „Some kind of interference? An eclipse of

some sort?‟

„Not that we‟ve recorded.‟ Sax frowned. „And they were too

low in orbit to be blocked by any moons.‟

„Ardethe has no moons,‟ muttered Hurwitz.

„Yes it has,‟ countered Pierce, strolling along behind them.

„Three. Woodward, Dallin and Fahey. Fahey is the biggest.‟

Hurwitz looked to his captain for confirmation. „But

Professor, this planet we‟re on has no moons. I checked with

SC before we left. Fire-in-Veins showed me.‟

Lidiard frowned. „And SC are rarely that wrong

The professor was fussing with his scanner, but took the

time to give Hurwitz an evil look. „Then we‟re on the wrong

planet, Ensign, which seems a little unlikely, don‟t you

think?‟ Pierce stomped off, leaving Hurwitz bemused.

„Captain, I‟m not wrong about this. This planet does not

have any moons.‟

Dr Harper patted Hurwitz on the shoulder. „Don‟t worry

about old Pierce. He‟s a bit stubborn. He just won‟t admit

he‟s made a mistake - probably getting this place mixed up

with another planet he‟s visited. If he gets too stroppy, I‟ll

pump him full of hydrasol. That‟ll calm the silly old bugger

down.‟ He looked at the captain. „Well, Captain Lidiard, shall

we follow and let the professor find his magnificent

archaeological discovery of the millennium?‟

Lidiard waved her people on, telling Harries and Sax to stay

behind.

Harries offered to try to investigate the cause of the

blackout in their equipment, but Sax looked most

disappointed.

„Now don‟t you worry, Mr Sax,‟ Harper explained to the

ensign. „I‟ll take care of your precious captain.‟

Sax raised an eyebrow and smiled. „Aye aye, Doctor. I

mean, sir.‟

With a laugh, Harper and Lidiard began to follow the others

down the crater.

Harries watched them go, shaking his head. „Despite the

heat, Saxie, I think we got the better detail. That crater‟s a

good three miles deep and ten across. And I left my walking

boots aboard the -‟

Harries stopped talking as Sax reached down and twisted

his neck around a hundred and eighty degrees, accompanied

by a loud snap.

Letting the dead body drop to the floor, Sax then began

rummaging through the shuttle‟s lockers, retrieving every

weapon she could and throwing them into a backpack. Once

satisfied she had everything, she reached towards the

communications console and erased all the logs recorded

since their arrival, and then all the back-ups. She activated

the computer and entered a code into it. Within four seconds,

the computer had erased itself.

With a last look around the shuttle for traces of her work,

and satisfied there were none, she threw the backpack on

and headed to the ridge of the crater.

The others were tiny dots beneath her - to start climbing

down right there would make her visible. But on the other

side there was no chance of the human there discerning her

from ten miles away.

With a grin of satisfaction, knowing that all her training

had not been a waste of time, Sax began her jog around the

side of the crater, planning to descend directly opposite the

rest of her crewmates.

It was a good four hours later - as the sun was finally

beginning to lower the heat and light - that Tim Davies came

rushing over to Professor Pierce and Captain Lidiard.

„We‟ve found something, Professor,‟ he shouted excitedly.

Even Lidiard found herself caught up in the moment, and

jogged along with the others to where Pierce‟s other seven

students were hurriedly pulling lumps of blue rock away

from something.

„There!‟ shouted one of them. „Metal!‟

Lidiard pushed Pierce aside roughly, waving Croft and

Footman over. „What do you think, Lieutenant?‟

Gingerly, Footman reached down, not quite touching the

metallic slab. „It‟s not hot, Captain.‟

„Oh, for goodness‟ sake,‟ muttered Harper, reaching down

to rub it, until Lidiard yanked his hand back. „No one

touches this, Bernard, until I‟m sure it‟s safe.‟

„Safe? Of course it‟s safe,‟ grumbled Pierce. „Let me see.‟

He barged through, deliberately knocking Lidiard slightly.

In return for her earlier roughness, no doubt.

He slapped his palm straight on to the metal plate – or

whatever it was - and was thrown back a good ten metres by

a massive flash of energy.

Lidiard didn‟t even need to be told he was dead: she could

guess that from the flash. Her blaster was out and trained on

the slab in a second, while Harper staggered away, staring at

his hand.

„That was nearly me...‟ he muttered.

Croft whispered in his captain‟s ear that Pierce was most

certainly dead, but then gasped as Tim Davies touched the

slab.

„You fool,‟ Croft shrieked, nearly deafening Lidiard.

But Davies was unhurt. „It was a booby trap of some sort,‟

he muttered. „The professor absorbed it all.‟ He looked up.

„Sadly, a fairly common practice for booby traps, but usually

harmless after the initial energy drain. The professor ought to

have known better.‟

Lidiard looked back at the small bivouacs that Bunrat and

Hurwitz had set up, thirty metres back. „Head back to the

camp,‟ she demanded. „We‟ll discuss this there.‟

As a couple of his students carried the dead professor,

Lidiard stopped Harper walking after them. „Bernard, time for

your medical expertise. I want to know what killed him.‟

Dr Harper nodded, and the captain then got out her

communicator, calling Sax and Harries. After a few minutes,

she gave up.

„Everything‟s buggered up now,‟ she grunted. „I can‟t raise

the shuttle.‟

„Should we head back, Captain?‟ Footman was trying his

own communicator.

„Not tonight, Lieutenant. But in the morning, take Croft

and find out what‟s wrong. Hopefully Sax and Harries will

have realized something‟s wrong and will probably meet you

halfway.‟

Further discussion was cut off as a massive wrenching and

grinding noise drowned out everything else.

„Bloody hell,‟ breathed Footman. The metallic slab that had

killed Pierce was rising up on a hinge. „It‟s a trapdoor of some

sort.‟

They watched as Tim Davies and the other students headed

back and, with a curse, Lidiard ran after them, telling

Footman to get the others.

„Hey, wait,‟ she yelled, but the students ignored her, staring

into whatever depths the trapdoor had revealed.

Finally she caught up with them, and winced as stale air

wafted past her. “This hasn‟t been opened for a very long

time,‟ she murmured.

„We ought to go down,‟ said Davies. „Professor Pierce would

have wanted us to.‟

„Considering he‟s barely cold yet, you‟re awfully keen to find

more booby traps, Mr Davies,‟ Lidiard snapped. „If anyone

goes down, it‟ll be me.‟

„But this is our expedition,‟ whined another of Pierce‟s

students, but Lidiard‟s fierce look shut her up swiftly.

Footman arrived. „Bunrat has stayed at the camp,‟ he said.

Lidiard was pleased to see Bernard Harper was there,

smiling at her.

„Lieutenant, I can‟t see any way of closing this door. These

students will sneak down here tonight if I forbid them. I think

we should risk going in now. Leave Croft above the hatch,

everyone else after me. You and Dr Harper bring up the rear.‟

Footman nodded as Captain Lidiard lowered herself into

the dark, feeling for any kind of foothold.

„A ladder,‟ she called out. „Perfectly strong.‟ Footman passed

her a flashlight, which she strapped to the side of her head

and flicked it on.

The light cast a powerful beam, illuminating a circular

drop, the ladder seemingly going all the way down.

„Humanoids, then,‟ muttered Davies. „If they needed a

ladder, the Ardetheans must have been humanoid.‟

Lidiard couldn‟t fault that. Unless Hurwitz had been right

and this, for some reason, wasn‟t Ardethe. According to

Hurwitz, Lieutenant Fire-in-Veins had been adamant about

the satellite-less planet. Hopefully it was not Pierce who had

been mistaken, otherwise this was a hell of a wasted trip.

„OK, next group, one by one. Slowly.‟

Hurwitz was next and, unsurprisingly, Pierce‟s students.

Then Bernard Harper, Chief Lincoln and finally Lieutenant

Footman.

Lidiard eventually reached the bottom and walked along a

perfectly manufactured circular tunnel, almost slipping as

there were no flat areas. It was like walking inside a tube.

After twenty minutes of boring nothing, the tunnel

expanded and she realized they were in a massive cavern.

Footman was bashing at his scanner. „I can‟t get much

sense, Captain, but it appears that we must be four or five

miles down.‟

„Impossible,‟ grunted Davies. „We‟d be sitting on top of the

molten core by now at that depth.‟

„And we‟re not suffering any kind of atmospheric density

problems. No bends,‟ said Dr Harper.

Footman shrugged. „That was a long climb down. And the

base of the crater upstairs was three miles down before.‟

„Whoa.‟ Lidiard stopped, her flashlight etching bizarre light

patterns on the walls. „We‟re certainly in a room of sorts.

Look.‟

„Wish we had some more light,‟ muttered a student.

Harper agreed. „Let there be light!‟ he called out, jokingly.

Whereupon the enormous chamber was bathed in a dull

orange light, which momentarily dazzled them but at least

gave them the ability to see clearly.

As the students oohed and ahhed, touching the walls and

floors and noting the intricate lines of pipes and tubes,

Lidiard crossed to Harper and her two crewmen.

„Strange idea of design, or do those pipes do anything?

Where does this light come from? I can‟t see any sources.

Why did it activate suddenly? I want answers, gentlemen.‟

„The lights came on when I told them to,‟ muttered Harper.

„Goodness knows why.‟

„Captain Lidiard!‟ It was Davies, standing by a doorway in

the far corner that no one had noticed before. As they ran

over, he was staring at them excitedly.

„Look through it!‟

Lidiard did so.

It was a chamber about a hundred times the size of the one

they were in, a slim bridge crossing to a far wall where a

doorway could be seen. The walls went up as far as they

could see and down into a murky black depth. If someone fell

off the thin walkway ... well, their screams would probably

get lost long before they hit anything. „I‟ve never seen

anything like it,‟ she said slowly. „Shall we?‟

Footman nodded.

„All right everyone, listen up. That walkway looks strong,

but can only take one person abreast. It‟s a long way over,

possibly a fifteen-minute walk, so we go in line but slowly.

We‟re not in a hurry and I don‟t imagine there‟s any way to

get to anyone who topples over. So don‟t arse around or do

anything stupid. Let‟s go.‟

Ensign Bunrat was busying herself, sorting out a meal for

the others and wondering where they were. It was almost

dark now and the blue surface of the planet would start to

get very cold. The bivouac would protect them, but they

would need to eat outside so as not to risk fire damage from

the gas heaters.

She was ready now to start it up just as soon as Lieutenant

Footman returned and told her to.

She sat back, leaning against the temporary shelter and

smiled. This was her first deep-space assignment, the sort of

things she had dreamt of. Her parents had not been very

positive - the Pakistani sense of family meant that going away

on a three-year tour of duty disrupted life too much - but

they‟d cope without her. And she had stored a message back

on the ship that would be transmitted to them tomorrow, the

regular letter-home day. She‟d asked Ensign Bridgeman to

ensure that her message was transmitted, and he was a

pleasant and reliable man.

Everything was perfect and - and here was the lieutenant

now.

Except it wasn‟t. It was Ensign Sax.

„Hello, Saxie,‟ Bunrat said. „I thought you were in the

shuttle.‟

Sax shook her head. „Nice place you‟ve built, Bunrat. Well

done. Where‟re the others?‟

Bunrat shrugged. „Gone exploring. About half an hour ago,

I guess. Dinner‟s ready but I guess it‟ll have to be given to the

dog. Which is a shame as I have excelled -‟ Bunrat stopped as

Sax thrust a large carving knife straight through her

breastbone, severing several major arteries close to her heart.

A final spasm of pain raced through her as Sax twisted the

knife suddenly and it was all over.

As Bunrat hit the blue rock, the last thing she saw was the

sun setting behind the edge of the crater. „Beautiful,‟ she

hissed and died.

Sax removed a blaster from her backpack, set it to overload

and threw it into the bivouac, then ran for the metal

trapdoor.

As she reached it, the bivouac exploded and was vaporized

by the intense blast of the weapon‟s discharge, leaving just a

dark ring of black on the stone surface. No trace of the camp

or Bunrat‟s body. Sax was very efficient.

She began to climb down, four steps at a time. She knew

she had reached the bottom when she trod on Ensign Croft,

whose already dead body had hit the bottom of the shaft at a

good thirty kilometres an hour after Sax had pushed it down

before meeting up with Bunrat.

Sax left it there, passing hurriedly through the tubelike

tunnel before emerging into the orange-lit room. She

immediately spied the far door and ran over, seeing the slim

bridge through it. On it, she could see the captain‟s party, so

Sax raised her blaster.

She aimed, and fired.

Lidiard dropped to one knee, her own blaster up and ready

as she heard the screams and yells.

Behind her, Footman nearly tripped over the side as he

reacted almost as quickly. Both of them could see the

carnage. Tim Davies was crouched in shock over one of the

students, the girl who had mentioned the lack of lighting

earlier. She was dead, her chest burnt through by blaster

fire. Of the other three students there was no sign, although

fading screams immediately told Lidiard where they had

fallen to.

She was pleased to note that Hurwitz had shoved Dr

Harper to the floor and lain across him, protecting him from

whoever or whatever had shot at them from behind.

Chief Lincoln was crouched behind Davies, staring over the

edge of the bridge, but another blast slammed him into the

student and then he toppled off the bridge and into the

abyss.

Footman dashed towards the stunned Tim Davies, whose

hands were covered in the dead girl‟s blood. „Lie flat,‟

Footman yelled, and was then hurled backward by another

blast, bouncing to a dead stop, on his back, in front of

Captain Lidiard, his eyes staring sightlessly up in shock.

Most of the left side of his chest had been scorched away.

Whoever it was had used their own sort of blaster on them.

Lidiard recognized the type.

Hurwitz cast a confused glance back at Davies and Lidiard

before he was flung off the bridge - but not by a gun blast.

His helpless screams as he plunged into whatever depths of

darkness stretched below were nothing compared with the

shock felt by his captain.

Hurwitz had been deliberately shoved to his death by

Bernard Harper.

„Drop the gun, Elizabeth,‟ he called, but she kept it trained

on him.

Tim Davies was looking back and forth like an animated

tennis watcher, completely shocked and unsure what was

going on.

Captain Lidiard saw that Harper had a blaster, but it

couldn‟t have been he who had killed the others – Hurwitz

would have been the first to die otherwise.

Then she saw Sax run up behind the doctor. Her

immediate reaction was joy - a rescue. But then logic filled in

the gaps.

As Harper walked towards her and Davies, Sax trained her

blaster on the two survivors.

„I said drop it, Elizabeth,‟ Harper repeated, but she shook

her head.

„I‟m not stupid,‟ she said.

Sax shot her captain twice, once in the chest, once in the

head and the remains of the body flopped down on the

bridge.

„Such a waste,‟ muttered Harper.

Tim Davies looked up in terror. „You killed them all! Why?‟

„Do you know how much credit goes to this galaxy‟s

universities, Davies? Do you know how much money is

wasted in putting morons like you through a further-

education system? Do you?‟

„N-no ...‟ Davis scrabbled back further.

„Nor do I,‟ said Harper. „But I‟m fairly sure it is far too

much.‟ He shot Tim Davies twice, and then kicked the body

for good measure. „I hate students.‟

Sax caught up with him, and was about to shove

Footman‟s body over as well as the female student, when

Harper stopped her.

„Leave all that until later. What about the others?‟

„Croft is back there, by the ladder. I got rid of Bunrat and

the camp.‟

„And Harries?‟

„The body is still in the shuttle. We can dump it in space

later.‟

Harper nodded. „By now the Trigan should be in little pieces

and the message sent. We have about four days before they

arrive. Let‟s get on with our mission.‟

In silence, the two of them walked over the bridge and

through a series of similar cavernous rooms followed by

larger cavernous rooms with bridges. They walked for about

three hours.

Eventually they came to the entrance to a huge building, a

massive rectangular door dwarfed by huge blackened

windows and stonework. Unlike the metallic rooms and areas

of earlier, this was a building that had been carved from the

planet‟s natural blue rock, dragons and other motifs etched

into the walls.

„This is it, Sax. This is the home of the Jithii.‟

Harper dug into his pocket and retrieved a small blue

gemstone. He then felt along the dark doorway until he found

a slot for the stone to go into. As it did so, the doors slowly

swung backward, and both of them winced at the stench of

stale air that rushed out.

„This hasn‟t been opened for years, Sax. Hundreds of years.‟

He pulled a tiny scanner from his pocket - not a standard

ship issue one but a special one, custom-built for him and

this mission.

They passed through walkways, rooms, libraries and

covered passages. Everything was carved from blue stone,

everything attached to everything else, like one massive

sculpture. Chairs and tables, balustrades and steps, trellises

and pergolas - all carved straight from the stone ground and

immovable.

„If I was a romantic,‟ Harper said to Sax after two more

hours of walking, „I‟d say this was the most beautiful thing I

have ever seen.‟

Sax shrugged. „It‟s a building. What is it?‟

„Ironically enough, Saxie, it‟s a university of sorts. Carved

from the planet‟s heart itself.‟

„Why?‟

„Don‟t worry about it. We can‟t be far now. Hungry?‟

„Starved, but I‟d rather eat when we‟ve done what we‟re

here to do.‟

„Then, prepare to eat,‟ Harper said happily, „because this is

it.‟

He pulled open another stone doorway and they walked

into a dark room.

„Let there be light,‟ he commanded and the same orange

light flared up. Harper then pointed to the far end, where a

maze of tubes and pipes, similar to those they had

encountered before entering the university, were clustered

around a smoked-glass casket, like a coffin, raised on a blue

stone dais.

Liquids and thicker substances were being pumped in and

out of the casket via the tubes, looking most incongruous

against the almost medieval look of the rest of the room.

„In here,‟ Harper said. „In here is what we‟ve come for.‟ He

leant over and placed his blue gemstone into the appropriate

slot again and, with a click and a whirr, the smoked-glass

casket opened.

Sax and Harper saw the inert body of a young human in

his twenties. Wearing a strange white smock, loose cotton

trousers, with a black leather belt tied around his midriff and

stockinged feet in sandals, the young man was clearly

unconscious but alive. His slow, laboured breathing proved

that. Sax stared at the young man, noting his attractive face,

neat blond hair and well-toned body, and laughed.

„He‟s what we‟re here for?‟

„Of course,‟ snapped Harper. „What were you expecting?‟ He

looked at the figure and saw a small flap of paper tied to the

thonglike belt. Written on the paper were the words:

HELLO. HIS NAME IS CHRIS CWEJ. PLEASE LOOK AFTER

HIM AND TAKE HIM TO ST OSCAR‟S ON DELLAH. THANK

YOU.

On the back was a small symbol that meant nothing to

Harper. He shrugged. „They said that they found him

unconscious during a post-battle clean-up expedition. One of

the outer colonies. They spent a lot of energy and resources

transmatting him here because he had what they were

looking for and needed to put stuff inside his mind. That was

six months ago. Now the planet has returned during its

erratic elliptical orbit, we‟re to take him back.‟

Sax was looking at the complex computer equipment. In

particular, a screen, which contained flashing words.

„Hey, Doc, what‟s a Jithii anyway? This thing says they‟ve

been awoken or something.‟

The answer came amid a sudden noise that caused Sax

and Harper to clutch at their heads in agony. The orange

lights began flashing, like a strobe light, and the two humans

crashed into each other.

„Let‟s... let‟s get away... from here...‟ Sax screamed.

Harper refused. „We have a... a job to do... we have to

retrieve the receptacle for the Baygent Apotheosis and -‟

But then the Jithii found them. The Jithii judged them

inappropriate. The Jithii didn‟t need them.

And so the screaming started.

3

AT HOME, AT WORK, AT PLAY

Bernice excused herself from the poker game - at which she

was slaughtering a majority of her students quite nicely,

thank you - and went into the ladies‟. The kids were

determined to win their shillings back, despite the fact that

few of them really had much flair for cards. And who was she

to stop them? Well, apart from their supposedly responsible

tutor and rector of Garland College... Ah, what the hell.

The robarman, Charlie X, at the Witch and Whirlwind was

keeping them nicely supplied with drink, so who could

complain? And - she smiled at this - she had neatly

convinced Professor Shingbourne that none of them needed

to be in class until one thirty tomorrow afternoon. As her

class automatically followed his, she could have a lie in until

about three.

Yup, this was the life.

As she wandered to the wash basins, she caught a look at

herself in the mirror.

„Mirror, mirror on the wall, who‟s the most elegant of all?‟

Probably not her, it had to be said. Mind you, as she

turned her head one way, then the other, she still looked in

pretty good shape. OK, there were the beginnings of dark

rims around her eyes, and there were definitely a couple of

grey hairs trying to break through her dark crop, but a few

hours of good sleep would sort the eyes out and flecks of grey

hair looked quite distinguished. She was mid-thirties, looked

late twenties and, albeit only sometimes, felt mid-fifties. She

had overheard quite a few of the human students (and even a

couple of the Ootsoi) comment on how attractive she was,

which did wonders for her self-confidence.

After quite a few months here at St Oscar‟s, Bernice was

beginning to feel happily settled in, and quite at peace with

herself.

Behind her, reflected in the mirror, the door inched open

slightly, but no one came through. It closed again, and she

thought nothing of it until something brushed the back of

her leg.

„You were supposed to be asleep. You promised you‟d stay

in the basket.‟ She put her hands on her hips and looked

severely at the cat staring up at her, huge eyes pleading for

love and affection. Or food. Cats can‟t really tell the

difference. „Can‟t I even pee in peace, young man?‟

With a slight mew, Wolsey turned and headed back to the

door, but it opened only inward.

„Oh, wait a moment, I won‟t be long.‟

Bernice went into the cubicle and emerged two minutes

later to find Wolsey curled up in one of the basins.

„How hygienic. Thank you. Like I can explain cat hair to

Charlie X.‟ She scooped Wolsey‟s now protesting form out of

the basin and deposited him on her shoulder while she

washed her hands.

Professor Bernice Summerfield stopped drying her hands

and stared harder at the lines, and at the unhealing scars

forming a trail across them. „Too much sun and sand. Too

many digs. If I cared half as much for my skin as everyone

else tells me I should, it still wouldn‟t do any good.‟

She had been at St Oscar‟s University on the planet Dellah

for nearly six months now. Made a few friends, had some

hair-raising adventures, discovered some new facts and still

failed to write one single line of her latest book, currently

entitled (but more than likely to change for the umpteenth

time) Down Among the Dead Men — Slight Return, The latest

communication from the university‟s publishing division had

succinctly pointed out that she was in breach of contract and

they‟d like their advance back.

She had called them back again, pointing out that the only

way they had of getting that back was to pump her stomach

(and half her veins) to remove the various drinks and

foodstuffs the money had gone on. Oh, and the veterinary bill

for Wolsey‟s shots.

Oddly enough, they had accepted this and announced they

were preparing the room at the medical centre on the other

side of Garland College and would alert her when the date

was approaching. Bernice assumed it was a joke. If it wasn‟t,

life might get rather interesting, although Wolsey might not

see the funny side of it.

Jason would, though. Jason was like that - the lowlife.

Wolsey jumped down. He had an innate sense that told him

when Jason Kane‟s existence had popped into Bernice‟s

mind, and a stronger one that reminded him that much

wailing, gnashing of teeth and a good few personal

possessions taking an unexpected flight around their rooms

occurred when Jason‟s name was mentioned.

She had loved Jason very much - which had been quite

handy when they had been married - but after the initial fun

had faded, so did their ability to coexist. Bernice never

doubted that Jason loved her, but he was too much of a

wanderer, too easily distracted by other things (often wine,

women, song and money, but not always in that order) to

really make the commitment they both needed to make.

So they had parted, less than happily, and, although their

paths had crossed once or twice, Bernice couldn‟t shake the

feeling that Jason would prefer it if they didn‟t. And she

certainly did. Oh yes. No doubt about that - that man had

been washed right outta her hair! In fact, the last time she‟d

spoken to him, he was clearly mixed up in something that

she couldn‟t identify. It had cost her, oh, at least thirty

seconds of sleeplessness before she‟d opted for the safer

thing of accepting that Jason Kane was Jason Kane and

when it suited either of them to look up the other, they

would, but until then they had to get on with their lives.

Ready to face the outside world and try to win some of her

credits back from Pluse (he was a natural poker player -

bastard) and see whether Charlie X had provided her with

some decent brandy this evening.

Pushing open the door, she and Wolsey walked straight

into a tall, rather gaunt-looking man who appeared to be in

his late thirties, but Bernice knew was a good few hundred

years older than that.

People on Dellah were strange like that.

„Hello, Irving. Hang around outside the little girls‟ room a

lot, do you?‟

„Actually, Professor Summerfield, I was searching for you.‟

Irving Braxiatel held an important post within the colleges of

St Oscar‟s, although each dean, professor and student

offered a different explanation of what exactly that post was.

He was, nevertheless, one of Bernice‟s most interesting

friends (bar Wolsey, naturally) on the planet - and, better

than that, she actually respected him. Bernice respected very

few people, tending to hold much of the universe‟s population

in a kind of amused contempt, just hoping they would amaze

her and break her cynicism. Braxiatel did just that. Not that

she entirely trusted him, of course. That would be too simple

- far better to regard everyone with a degree of distance. That

way no one could ever let you down that much. And he had

so many secrets and possibly dodgy, or at least shady,

connections that she found herself often comparing him to

Jason. Not really very fair on either of them, but at least

there wasn‟t an ever-present and deeply annoying sexual

attraction to Braxiatel, so dealing with him was somewhat

easier.

„There‟s a student just arrived. He‟s right up your street.

Feelings of confusion, displacement, unsure about who to

trust or what he‟s doing here.‟

„Sounds more like Professor Warrinder, actually.‟

„And look how much you enjoy his company,‟ Braxiatel

said, slipping a glass full - really full - of brandy into her

hand.

„Warrinder is a three-foot-nothing hamster and nutty as a

fruitcake. What‟s so special about this lad that makes him

worth noting?‟

Braxiatel pointed to a couple of empty seats, and they sat.

Or rather, Bernice and Wolsey sat, Braxiatel giving the cat an

evil look until it lazily jumped down, leaving the second chair

for him.

Rather huffily, Wolsey wandered back to where Bernice‟s

students were trying to introduce their new Ootsoi friend,

Toosa-eL, to the concept of subterfuge and deceit in order to

win at poker. And eL was trying to deal with both Matt Doran

and Vitor Pluse trying to smarm their way into her bed. Or

nest. Or whatever tall red-feathered avians slept in (how

remiss, Bernice Summerfield, not to have found out the

answer to that one: lose ten points, do not pass Go, do not

collect two hundred pounds).

„Why should I want to mother him?‟ asked Bernice again,

sipping on the quite fabulous brandy. „And where is this

from? Charlie X doesn‟t stock this.‟

„I thought you‟d like it. It‟s a gift from your new charge - I

gather that you‟ve met him before. He‟s one of the Natural

Path lot.‟

Yeah, Bernice knew about the Natural Path - a heavily

religious group, whose strict and quite antiquarian codes and

morals not only offended her own but had made life

intolerable for those of their society who did not conform.

„Is it Emile?‟ She had met Emile Mars-Smith a while back -

a bit insecure but essentially very nice. Poor lamb had spent

so much time trying not to let on he was gay (which she had

guessed anyway) and that he was infatuated by an Ursulan

anarchist called Scott. The latter effort was particularly

difficult because, although Scott had no trouble sleeping with

whomever he pleased regardless of race, let alone gender

(score one for the anarchists: at least they had no archaic

moral codes), he was sleeping with Emile‟s other friend,

another St Oscar‟s student called Tameka. Tameka, however,

had received an extra-special gift from Scott: she had

returned to Dellah pregnant. So she had taken special

quarters at the university and given birth to a son, whom she

had named Jock. Bernice, Tameka and Emile had formed

quite a good bond but the last Bernice knew about Emile was

what Tameka had told her: that he had headed back to the

relay station where his father lived to try to make peace with

his old man. Needless to say Papa Mars-Smith was none too

groovy about having a gay son.

„Yes, that‟s him. Not sure if he‟s here to learn or find a life

partner, actually, but I thought you‟d want to help him settle

in. I‟ve had him placed here at Garland, if you think he‟ll fit

in all right.‟

Bernice did. „Hardly a problem here, is it? Hell, if we

frowned on every interspecies or same-sex relationship going

on in this place, we‟d be failing in our duty to be

broadminded.‟ She threw a look back to Toosa-eL, currently

trying to cope with the attentions of the two human lads.

„Although I suspect young Emile will be slightly better off

than the average Ootsoi. Besides, if he‟s brought booze as

good as this on to this little backwater, he can be my best

friend for life.‟ Sitting opposite eL, grinning wildly, was

Tameka with wee baby Jock strapped to her back, dribbling

some probably foul-smelling goo down the rear of his

mother‟s now traditional black jacket

Braxiatel stood up. „I can trust, then, that you won‟t let him

fall into bad company or dubious scams?‟

„He won‟t do anything I wouldn‟t do myself first.‟

Braxiatel tried to look comforted by that, but failed.

„Rightio, Benny. I‟ll see you later.‟

She watched him depart, knocked back the last of the

brandy and prepared to get back to the poker game.

Except that someone else was sitting in her place. Closely

cropped brown hair, nice cheekbones, dark eyes and rather

chubby overall, Emile had arrived.

And Wolsey was seated on his lap, lying on his back having

his tummy tickled.

She could hear the purrs from here.

Traitor.

„I think it‟s time we thought about a trip to the vet,‟ she

said loudly as she walked back to the others. „I wonder how

his neutering knife is.‟

Wolsey stopped purring for a few seconds and gave Bernice

a look she swore meant „Go on, try it, bitch, and see what

you get in return,‟ and then carried on making contented cat

noises.

„Hello, stranger.‟

Emile offered his hand a little stiffly. „Good to see you

again, Professor S.‟

Bernice put a hand on his shoulder and turned to the

others. „Everyone, this is Emile. He‟s going to be joining us

for a while.‟

An assortment of greetings, from an enthusiastic „Hiya‟

from Vitor Pluse to a grunted „„Lo‟ from Jayne Waspo,

welcomed Emile as Bernice introduced the poker players one

by one. Tameka just gave him a huge kiss on the lips and

probably relished his blushes. „Hiya „Meel.‟

„Is that...‟ Emile pointed at wee Jock.

Tameka nodded. „Yeah, Jock. Isn‟t he gorgeous?‟

Emile was brave, Bernice thought. Jock was, after all, the

baby of the man he so desperately wanted to be with. But he

suddenly laughed. „Green hair or scales yet?‟

Tameka shook her head. „Scott‟s coming to visit soon. I

know he‟d love to see you again.‟

Bernice thought this might be a bit indelicate, so she opted

to rescue him.

„There‟s a couple of others not around, but you‟ll bump into

them sooner or later.‟

Emile nodded at her and then let his attention drift to the

Ootsoi girl. She was twitching her head back at him, her

beak flicking rapidly, as surprised by his amazement as he

was by her appearance.

„You‟re beautiful,‟ he eventually muttered.

There was a pause, and then eL twittered, „Thank you.‟

Doran breathed deeply and even Pluse raised an eyebrow.

But Emile just continued staring. „I‟m sorry, I don‟t mean to

be rude, but where are you from?‟

„The Oots Eyrie,‟ eL replied. „Where are you from?‟

„The Natural Path.‟

Bernice immediately felt sorry for him - the shudder that

went around the students was visible. Emile shrugged,

however. „Yeah, my thoughts entirely. That‟s why I‟m here.‟

The others fell quiet, and Emile smiled at Tameka. „It‟s good

to be back.‟

„Heard from Scott?‟ she said.

Bernice wanted to scream at her! Wasn‟t she thinking?

Damn, what if Scott had abandoned him, or been hostile

towards Emile‟s feelings?

But Emile nodded enthusiastically. „Yeah, he‟s still on

Ursu, very happy with his lot. I sent a communication to him

last week saying I was coming here. He said he‟d try to get

over some time. He might bring Michael and Leon –

apparently they‟re all getting on all right now, especially with

so many of their Eight dead. And Kitzinger‟s still there, trying

to -‟

Bernice touched his shoulder. She knew as well as Tameka

that Emile Mars-Smith could rabbit on for hours, especially if

he was nervous. „And your father?‟ Might as well find out

now.

„Oh, pathetic and immobile as ever. I‟m not welcome back

on the relay station and of course he isn‟t able to come visit

me in case his soul gets corrupted by the ills of the outside

world. One day one of us will get our act together and sort

things out, but for now I thought I‟d head back here, find you

two and have some fun. If that‟s all right.‟

Bernice clapped her hands, which made eL jump slightly.

„All right? It‟s marvellous. I‟m glad you chose here to come to.

Now, take your things to my room - we‟ll find you somewhere

in the dorm tomorrow. Tameka, will you show him the way?‟

„Sure, boss.‟ Tameka slipped her arm through Emile‟s,

pulling him closer to her. „Welcome back to Garland College.

I‟ve missed you.‟

Emile squeezed her arm in return. „Me too.‟ With a last,

bemused look at eL, he allowed Tameka to guide him away.

Bernice sighed. „I think that‟s all the excitement I need for

one night, guys. I‟m going to do a bit of research in the

secretary‟s office and then call it a night. Tomorrow, we‟ve got

a couple of lengthy classes, so I suggest you don‟t stay up too

late, OK?‟

„Yes, Miss Summerfield,‟ they chorused sarcastically, like a

class of six-year-olds (except eL, who again nearly shed some

feathers in surprise at their unified shout).

She glared at them. „You‟ve been waiting months for an

opportunity to do that, haven‟t you?‟

„Yes, Miss Summerfield,‟ they said again.

„Right, two can play at that game.‟ She looked over to the

robarman. „Charlie. No more for this lot after nine thirty.

OK?‟

„Yes, Miss Summerfield,‟ Charlie X replied.

Muttering things about conspiracies, bringing back

corporal punishment and the effects of cloudy days on solar-

powered robot barkeepers, Bernice went on her way.

Bernice was not entirely sure what woke her the following

morning. It might have been Wolsey, doing his usual morning

routine of tapping her chin, wanting his bickies and mewing

helplessly like a week-old kitten desperate for affection (and it

worked nearly every time); or it might have been the snoring

of the attractive young student with whom she had shared

her bed last night.

Wait a minute!

Professors at St Oscar‟s did not, as a rule, shag students.

Bad example and all that. Besides, she didn‟t recall having

sex with anyone last night.

She sat up and nudged her snoring companion. He lazily

rolled over, placing an arm around her tummy and squeezing

slightly. Bernice sighed. Loudly. And then coughed. A bit

louder.

The student woke. She watched as his eyes popped open

and absorbed the reality of where his hand - and indeed the

rest of his body - was.

„Oh, no,‟ he murmured quietly. „Professor S, if I close my

eyes, will I wake up and not be here?‟

„Unlikely, chum.‟ Bernice waited until his eyes screwed

tightly shut and she hauled herself out of the bed, yanked

her dressing gown up off an easy chair and wrapped herself

in it. „All right, young man, the naked lady is decent. You

may look now.‟

He did as bidden. „Sorry,‟ he muttered.

Bernice looked across at the chaise longue, where a duvet

had flopped to the floor, leaving an unsuspecting pillow

there, on to which Wolsey had decided to settle, aware that

bickies were a while off.

„Not comfortable on the sofa, young man?‟

Emile still didn‟t want to keep his eyes open. „I was cold.‟

Bernice licked her finger and held it up. „Ambient

temperature about twenty-two degrees, Emile. Not cold.‟

„Uncomfortable?‟ Emile sat up, pulling Bernice‟s duvet close

to his neck.

„Uh-uh. Professor Dok slept on that once. And he‟s a

silicon-based life form, immovable. Even he found it

comfortable.‟ Bernice stared at Wolsey.

„Cat disturb you, perhaps?‟

Emile, clearly seeing an opportunity, jumped at it. „Yes.

Wolsey. His fault.‟

Wolsey, apparently knowing that his name was being taken

in vain, mewed loudly and, if cats could be said to glare, gave

Emile a look that should have dropped him at twenty paces.

Emile mouthed a „sorry‟ at Wolsey, but the cat was having

none of it, turned away and ended up staring at the kitchen

door.

Bernice went in and quickly came out with a bowl of

biscuits and a sachet of watered-down milk which she gave

him. Wolsey lazily got off the pillow, jumped to the floor and

took up his usual and-about-bloody-time-too pose as he ate.

„Are you decent?‟ Bernice asked.

Emile nodded. „Well, get up then. Any second now, we‟re

going to be disturbed by Joseph and I don‟t want him getting

the wrong idea about us. You know how these mechanoid

porters like to gossip.‟

Emile laughed. „Hey, I can tell them it‟s the first time I‟ve

slept in a bed with a woman since I was nine.‟

„Yeah, right.‟ Bernice stood up. „D‟you want the shower

first? Then I‟ll try to find a room for you. Near me and

Tameka, OK?‟

Emile nodded. “That‟d be great,‟ he said jumping out of

bed. „And thank you, Professor S.‟

„Bernice. Benny, remember?‟

„Benny. Thank you.‟ As Emile headed towards the shower

room, the door chimed and then opened as the small white

sphere known as Joseph floated in, delivering an electronic

reader into Bernice‟s hands. „Morning, Rector. Today‟s

Campus Bulletin for you.‟

„Thank you, Joseph. Are any of the rooms on this floor

vacant at the moment?‟

Joseph hovered a bit, whirred and then circled around her,

rotating on his own internal axis while doing so, a manoeuvre

that simultaneously reminded Bernice of an owl‟s head and

made her nauseous.

„Is there something amiss with your set of rooms, Rector? It

is not unduly cramped in here, although I believe if you left

the bicycle contraption in the Porters‟ Lodge, you would have

more room for your Professor Nightshade figure.‟ Joseph was

hovering above the offending bike and life-size cardboard

cutout of the popular, mid-twentieth-century television

character, which Bernice had rescued from a closing-down

video shop in 2006 when the VHS boom had collapsed in on

itself and Earth culture had made the change to video CDs.

Bernice had had this argument with Joseph before – the

bike was staying put. Anyway, this wasn‟t about her space.

Or her possessions.

„Actually, it‟s about my friend Emile Mars-Smith,‟ she said.

„He needs somewhere to stay.‟

Joseph hovered above the chaise longue and then the

double bed, lowering himself to the duvet and then up again.

„Not going to work out then, Rector?‟

„Emile is a friend, Joseph, nothing more. Not, I might add,

that it‟s any of your business. He‟s a young man looking for

love, self-worth, identity and some adventure.‟

„What‟s he doing as a student in this college, then?‟ buzzed

Joseph, swiftly zooming out of Bernice‟s rooms with a

passing electronic squawk of „I‟ll see what I can do, Rector,‟

before departing to wherever mechanoid porters went every

morning. (One day, Bernice decided, she‟d follow him to see

where he went. But, with Joseph‟s irritating programming,

he‟d probably deliberately lead her on a wild-goose chase.)

She picked up the electronic newspaper Joseph had

brought in and began scanning.

„Oh, no,‟ she said as one particular news item appeared.

„Oh, damn and blast it.‟

„Hi, this is DNN, bringing you all the Dellah news from the

planet and beyond. I‟m Jake Garrett.

„News fresh in from the outer rim worlds - the expedition to

investigate the planet Ardethe, apparently home of the

legendary Ardetheans, has seemingly hit trouble.

„Despite repeated calls, no signals have been received from

either the archaeological party on the planet‟s surface, or the

AMS Trigan, which was the expedition‟s support ship.

„Admin-Proctor Lucinda Vrana, herself on the way to join the

team and learn what had been discovered, has given this

statement while aboard the Administration‟s flagship, the AMS

Horatio.

„“We are most concerned with this piece of news and until

communication is restored, we see nothing to be gained by

trying to locate them when there are better ships more

qualified to search. We will of course sit and wait with bated

breath for more news.”

„Back on System Central, the Admin-Proctor‟s opponents are

making political capital out of this, on the eve of some of the

most important elections in Administration history. DNN

reporter Linzi Guudbimps spoke to Hardline Karllist Movement

leader Gol Hazchem about this latest incident.

„ “Yeah, right, I mean, like once again, we‟re seeing Vrana

making headlines out of this tragedy. And, yeah, like we know

it‟s a tragedy because, hey, sure the Ardetheans might have

come back to life and struck everyone down but, well, it‟s not

what this universe needs, no? It needs strong, demanding

leadership that I and the Hardline Karllist Move- “

„That was Gol Hazchem on the Admin-Proctor‟s stance over

the Ardethe tragedy. The Admin-Proctor has, we are told, now

turned her attention to the worsening situation on Solaados,

where a number of terrorists are fighting the mining companies

the Administration established there.

„Coming up later — Professor Proot on why Gregori Glaast‟s

latest masterpiece, the Requiem Suite, could be the end of

classical music as we know it. And, in the light of the Orion

war, why some AMS crewmen are nervous about serving

under android captains. Plus the views on one android captain

and why he married a human woman. Was it for career

furtherment or do synthetics really have emotions? That‟s all

coming up later.

„And that was DNN, bringing you all the Dellah news from

the planet and beyond. I‟m Jake Garrett.‟

Irving Braxiatel switched the hologram recording off.

„That was broadcast about three hours ago. Bad news.‟

Bernice nodded, and drained her teacup. „Do you think

Pierce and the others are dead?‟

Braxiatel looked at Bernice. Very hard. „Of course I do. And

so do you. Especially if what we suspect is true.‟

Bernice sighed and placed her cup on a hovering table,

which then scuttled off to the kitchen. „We don‟t know

anything for sure. It might really have been Ardethe.‟

Braxiatel held up two data crystals, then passed them to

Bernice. „This -‟ he pointed at one „- was the set of

coordinates Pierce gave everyone for Ardethe. Stupid and

impulsive he may have been, especially to go off without the

rest of us, but he was neat and tidy. He entrusted... ah, a

friend with this data.‟

Bernice opted not to ask about the „friend‟ - Braxiatel, she

had learnt, had some dodgy friends in even dodgier high

places.

„This -‟ Braxiatel tapped the other crystal „- is where those

of us concerned with such things believe he really went.‟

„Did he know?‟

„Unlikely. Why should he? It is supposed to be a nine-

planet system. A tenth shows up. Who‟s to know which is the

anomaly?‟

„A good scientist asks such questions, Irving. We both know

that.‟

„Jakson Pierce was not a good scientist, Benny. We both

know that.‟

Bernice nodded in agreement. „So what now, Irving? You

and me? Off to Ardethe, or the planet Pierce thought was

Ardethe, which might be Ardethe anyway?‟

Braxiatel smiled. „I‟m not going anywhere, Professor

Summerfield. I have a course to teach. But if you want to

head there and investigate what our sources believe this

world to be, then do so.‟

„Am I covered?‟

„Doctor Archduke knows what we are planning. I‟m fairly

certain he will arrange for you to be looked after.‟

Bernice raised her eyebrows. „Doctor Ferdinand Archduke

is not, to be frank, number one on my list of people to trust.

He is one of them, after all.‟

Braxiatel shook his head. „We are not entirely sure of that,

my dear Professor. And even if he is, he has had plenty of

opportunities to stop our little investigations but he hasn‟t.‟

Bernice stood up. „And that, my dear Professor Braxiatel,

frightens me more than anything else.‟ She turned to go. „Oh,

by the way, I might take Emile with me. He wants some

adventure and he‟s seen a bit of action. This might do him

some good.‟

„As you wish, Professor. You‟re the rector of his college -

he‟s under your jurisdiction now.‟

Bernice leant against the door. „You know, that would

sound so much nicer if I didn‟t feel that you thought I‟d just

signed his death warrant. And mine, come to that.‟

Braxiatel smiled, but only slightly. „I know he‟s in good

hands, Benny.‟

„Yeah, right. We‟ll leave tomorrow noon. I assume you took

my acceptance for granted and arranged a ship.‟

Braxiatel nodded. „A spice-freighter captain owed me a

favour or two. A shuttle will take you to the spaceport in orbit

tomorrow lunchtime. There you‟ll pick up the Modesty Plays

and be on your way to the rim worlds.‟

Bernice smiled her farewell. „See you in the bar tonight?‟

But Braxiatel declined. „I have a few other things to see to,

but I will meet you tomorrow at just before noon.‟

„Well, this is weird.‟

Emile stared at the small ball hovering in front of him. It

was no bigger than a snooker ball, pure white, and, while it

hovered, it rotated; although, with no distinguishing marks

on it, it took a while to realize it was doing so. It gave off a

slight humming noise while it hovered, but a high-pitched

buzz when it actually swooped around, which it did with an

alarming speed and at unexpected moments, as if it was

enjoying confusing him.

„What exactly do you do here?‟ Emile was not unfamiliar

with technology, but talking snooker balls were something

else.

„I am Joseph,‟ it replied, in a calm, well-mannered,

cultured, plummy voice that reminded Emile of the uptight,

repressed pastors back on the relay station. „I am a porter. I

am the porter for this block and I work for the Rector,

Professor Summerfield.‟

„Oh, good. Does she treat you well?‟

„She is an efficient if somewhat... unorthodox rector of

Garland College. Compared with her predecessor, however,

she is remarkably pleasant.‟

Emile was in his new room now, sitting on a wicker chair

by a large window. There was a bed, a desk with a computer

on it, some shelves and a wardrobe. To one side was a tiny

kitchen area and a shower room.

„What happened to her predecessor?‟

There was a slight buzz and Joseph zoomed to the window,

rotated a couple of times and then came down to hover at eye

level with Emile.

„He had an accident. Electrocuted. In the shower. Involving

a food mixer and an electronic razor.‟

Emile frowned. „But surely all that kind of thing is overseen

by the porters? How did he get electrocuted when your safety

cut-outs should have alerted you to that problem?‟

Joseph began moving away, then, with a final spin, he said,

as calmly as always, „People should never be rude to porters,

you know, Student Emile. Remember that, and your time at

Garland College will be very pleasant indeed.‟ With a final

loud buzz, Joseph was gone.

Leaving Emile to think about offended machines, showers

and electronic razors. He looked out of the window, ignoring

the beautiful lawns, wonderful architecture and heaps of

people of various sizes, shapes and colours. He looked into

the cloudless blue midday sky and, for the first time,

wondered what his father was doing.

„Hi, this is DNN, bringing you all the Dellah news from the

planet and beyond. I‟m Jake Garrett.

„New this broadcast - confirmation that the AMS Trigan was

destroyed in an unexplained incident while in orbit around a

planet that some have speculated may or may not be the

legendary Ardethe.

„AMS Administration, part of the Earthspace Administration,

have confirmed that a log buoy located by a System News

Network team, was from the doomed ship and ejected shortly

before its destruction, presumably with the loss of all aboard.

The trajectory of the buoy and the lack of transponder signal

are indicative of the ship‟s destruction. AMS Administration

cannot confirm the destruction of the ship, however, despite

the overwhelming evidence in support of this theory.

„Admin-Proctor Lucinda Vrana, currently on a goodwill tour

of the Solaados colony, had this to say:

„“Obviously this news is distressing but I feel nothing should

be set in stone until proof is provided that the Trigan has not

merely encountered transmission difficulties.”

„When asked if another ship would be sent to the rim to

investigate, the Admin-Proctor explained:

„“That is a decision that needs to be placed before the AMS

Administration.”

„DNN will of course bring you more updates on this story as

and when they happen. In the meantime this is DNN bringing

you all the Dellah news from the planet and beyond. I‟m Jake

Garrett.‟

Emile found Bernice Summerfield at the Witch and

Whirlwind, pretty much as he expected to. Well, apart from

the heavily inebriated bit - surely rectors, professors and

general standard-setting people weren‟t supposed to get rat-

arsed with their students, especially when slaughtering them

at poker. Tameka wasn‟t there - it was probably time to put

Jock to bed. And Tameka was clearly enjoying motherhood

enough to stay with him.

And Scott, should he arrive - would he stay with her?

No, Emile, you put that kind of rubbish out of your head.

You‟re here to get back on track. Scott is the past, and it was

fun but now it‟s time to grow up. Be friends, nothing more.

„D‟you play, Emile?‟ shouted Vitor Pluse, waving to an

empty seat. „Please say you do - we need someone else to

even the odds.‟

„Professor Summerfield taught us this game,‟ added

Marjorie Marjorie, „but never let on that she was some kind of

grand master.‟

„I still do not understand it,‟ tweeted eL, and Doran, sitting

very close beside her, touched her right talons gently.

„It‟ll all make sense eventually.‟

„Earlier she shouted “rummy” far too loudly,‟ Waspo

whispered in Emile‟s ear. „To make matters worse, in the next

game she declared she was fishing. Even the professor didn‟t

get that until eL bellowed “mahjong” two goes later.‟

Emile, who couldn‟t imagine eL bellowing anything, nodded

quietly. „I‟ll give it a go,‟ he said.

Pluse dealt him in - seven-card stud with one-eyed Knaves

wild.

The first two cards, the face-down ones, were an Eight of

Hearts and a Six of Hearts. The face-up was a Ten of

Diamonds. Bernice already had a Knave of Spades, which

meant she automatically had a pair of whatever was highest

in her hands.

„Vegas rules,‟ she muttered. As no one else knew anything

different, they agreed, which meant she started the bidding.

Another round of dealings then happened, giving Bernice a

King of Hearts and therefore a high-scoring pair. Emile

frowned at this, wondering if she had a third. As the betting

began anew, Marjorie folded early, leaving Pluse, eL, Waspo

and Emile to beat Bernice. Poker is the most un-team card

game possible, Emile thought, but here they were ganging up

on Benny without even talking about it.

And he could see that Bernice knew this - and enjoyed it.

Bernice chucked in a high bid of thirty shillings – eL

promptly folded, but Pluse just smiled and met it. Emile

matched it and Waspo upped it slightly. A further round of

shillings went into the pot until Waspo had been matched

and a fifth card was dealt - Emile now holding a Three of

Hearts and a Seven of Clubs in addition to his concealed

Hearts and the Ten of Diamonds. On the next betting, Pluse

folded and so Waspo and Emile stared at each other, each

trying to read something in the other‟s face. Bernice was just

stony-faced, betraying nothing. On the sixth deal, Emile got a

Queen of Hearts, which caused a raised eyebrow from Waspo

as she received her second Four, giving her an obvious pair.

Bernice got a King of Spades, giving her a minimum three of

a kind with the wild Knave.

What the hell, Emile decided, as Bernice put in a medium

bet. Waspo upped it and Emile met her new bid. The last

cards went round, face down. Emile‟s was an Ace of Hearts -

giving him a flush.

Bernice was still the first to bet and surprisingly made

quite a small one, which Waspo immediately upped. Emile

matched it - and Bernice did as well.

„You‟ve been seen,‟ Bernice said to Waspo, who put down a

straight - a run from five to nine. Bernice dropped down her

two Kings and her Knave - three of a kind.

Emile laughed and put down his flush, to a whoop of

delight from Pluse, which in turn elicited an alarmed shriek

from eL, who appeared to think Pluse was angry or

something.

Bernice pushed the rather large pot towards the winner.

„Should buy you a few beers.‟ She smiled at him. „Make sure I

get to have one sometime.‟

Emile suddenly felt himself grin. He was... well, happy.

These people had made him feel very welcome over something

as simple as a card game. For the first time in months, he

actually wanted to stick around people, this group being

especially fun - even Waspo with her perpetual grumbles.

A young lad jogged over - tight vest displaying some nice

musculature underneath, tight pants outlining... well, Emile

was pleased to see that he didn‟t need his imagination so

much here. Back home everyone wore such dowdy grey

clothing.

The lad caught Emile‟s eye, and he smiled - slightly. Well, it

might have been a smile; it could just have been a twitch.

But no, Emile wanted it to be a smile, so that‟s what it would

be.

The newcomer passed a couple of circular crystals to

Bernice and dashed off, again casting a look towards Emile.

Why?

And why was Emile wondering why? Hell, he was the first

attractive person he‟d seen on the planet. Why not go and

talk to him?

Because he‟d gone, that was why. Damn.

„Who was that?‟ he asked Marjorie without thinking about

it.

„Why?‟ she replied.

Pluse leant over, „Day I Laratt,‟ he answered. „Nice guy,

studies Euterpian music theory and history. Do you want an

intro?‟

Emile wanted to say yes, but instead mumbled something

about how he was just wondering and, well, no thanks but

perhaps some other time but only if it was convenient and

there was no hurry really. Honest.

Emile switched his attention to Bernice and her crystals.

He had seen a lot of these and realized quite quickly it was

some kind of electronic letter, although he‟d never seen how

anyone read one. Hell, back on the relay station, letters from

outside were considered one down from praying to the Devil.

As if reading his mind, Bernice pulled a small electronic

datapad from her chinos and shoved a crystal into the top.

Immediately a small hologram of a man wobbled into

existence.

„Hiya, Professor. Popping by Dellah soon, because I need

some supplies. Thought we could have a drink. Ciao.‟

„Over my dead body,‟ Bernice said, yanking the crystal out

and dropping it into her beer glass. „Hope you drown.‟

She placed the second crystal into the reading device. The

same hologram appeared.

„Hi honey, I‟m home,‟ it said.

„Hi honey, I‟m home,‟ said a closer male voice. „Typical

postal service in this part of the galaxy. Sent them a week

apart and you get them together.‟

Emile watched as a young man, about Bernice‟s age,

walked across from the doorway of the bar, walked up behind

Bernice, kissed her on the top of her head and waved to the

robarman.

„Scotch, neat. Double.‟ A flying platter brought one over in a

few seconds.

„What d‟you want?‟ Bernice clearly was not pleased to see

the newcomer. But Emile was - it was a man whose life he‟d

once saved when they fought the Sunless together. When

Emile had met Bernice, Tameka and Scott for the first time.

The man was Jason Kane and Emile liked him a lot. He was

Fun with a capital F and, although Jason and Bernice

seemed hot to get along (he couldn‟t remember if they were

divorced or just separated now), Emile sort of hoped maybe

they would get back together. Maybe that‟s what Jason was

here to discuss.

He was dressed as usual in a badly scuffed brown leather

jacket with a furry collar, and black trousers, and he had a

few days‟ worth of mousy stubble on his chin. Emile thought

his eyes were still among the most interesting he‟d ever seen.

And far more lively and exciting than his scruffy appearance

suggested. He was about six foot, maybe a touch more, well

built and had very rough hands.

„And hello to you, too.‟ He looked at the others around the

table. „Hiya, kids. Teacher being good to you all?‟

Bernice closed her eyes, and let out a deep breath. When

she opened them, a forced smile was on her lips. „Everybody,

this is Jason Kane. Jason, this is everybody. Now piss off and

leave us alone.‟

Jason ignored her and smiled at the group. „Hard to

believe, I know, but I‟m Benny‟s husband.‟

„Ex-husband,‟ she corrected him, rather quickly.

Only Marjorie seemed astonished at this news, although

Waspo might just as well have had „distaste‟ etched in

permanent ink all over her face.

Pluse reached across and shook Jason Kane‟s hand.

„Pleased to meet you, sir.‟

„Well, you shouldn‟t be,‟ grunted Bernice.

With a look of apology at Bernice, who just glared back,

Emile also offered his hand. „Hello, Jason. I don‟t know if you

remember

Jason raised an eyebrow. „Emile? Hi, good to see you.

Christ, poor you. What made you come to a dump like this?‟

Emile was about to answer when Bernice suddenly tugged

at Jason‟s collar, dragging his face before hers. „Listen you - I

said piss off and I meant it. What do you have to keep

turning up in my life for anyway? Aren‟t you supposed to be

ensconced in some dodgy project that lowlifes like you get

involved in after too many nights in the casino?‟

Jason smiled. „That‟s what I love about you, Benny. Always

there with a welcoming smile and kind words. And there was

me thinking that this place might have blunted your edge.‟

He moved up a little so that his mouth was level with

Bernice‟s ear.

„I keep hearing interesting things about certain rim worlds -

Ardethe gets mentioned a lot. I thought that would prick up

your ears in no time. Surprised to find you here.‟

Bernice just stared ahead. „If you thought I was there, you

wouldn‟t be here. What d‟you want, Jase?‟

„Ten minutes of your time. Alone.‟

„You‟ve got it. The clock is ticking, now walk me to my

room.‟

Emile watched as the ex-couple walked out of the bar, and

let out the breath he had been holding.

„I think those two get worse instead of better as they get

older. At least the last time I saw them together they were

capable of being polite to each other.‟ He stood and grabbed a

handful of his winnings, ensuring he got at least what he

had put in plus a little extra. „Buy a round with this lot, will

you, Vitor,‟ he said and walked out, following the direction

taken by Bernice and Jason.

He could see them a few yards ahead, talking animatedly.

„We‟re being followed,‟ said Jason. „The new kid on the block.‟

Bernice shrugged. „Emile‟s OK. Why‟re you interested in

Ardethe?‟

Jason scratched his eyebrow, a habit, or rather an

affectation, Bernice had seen him develop that meant he was

pretending to be mysterious. „Certain people I am... familiar

with have an interest in it. Ardethe, if it really is Ardethe, is

supposed to be a treasure trove. My associates would like to

be part of any, well, archaeological trip there.‟

„You‟ve seen the newscasts, Jase. The party already there

are dead. Probably.‟ Bernice stopped walking. „What makes

you think I‟m going to go chasing after ghosts?‟

„Because it‟s the sort of thing you do these days. You‟d get

data on the planet, best places to look, that sort of thing.‟

Bernice shook her head. „Go away, Jason. You‟re not

coming with me, and that‟s final.‟

Jason suddenly grabbed her shoulders and kissed her on

the lips, pulling her to him. Bernice squirmed and pulled

away, wondering why she hadn‟t just kneed him in the groin.

„What the bloody hell was that?‟

Jason just stared at her, firmly gazing into her eyes. „Just

in case you don‟t come back. Please do.‟

Bernice wiped her mouth. „You ever do that again, and

you‟ll be wearing your bollocks on a chain around your neck

to remind yourself of what you once had.‟

He held his hands out, suggesting contrition. „OK, sorry. I‟ll

get my supplies and go. See you around?‟

„Yeah, I imagine we‟ll bump into each other. I mean, it‟s an

infinite universe but somehow, just somehow, Jason Kane

and Bernice Summerfield manage to trip over one another

wherever we go.‟

Jason bowed slightly and walked off. Bernice watched him

go and then became aware of Emile standing at her shoulder.

„Yes?‟

„You really love each other, don‟t you?‟ Emile shook his

head slowly. „It‟s so sad that you don‟t like each other.‟

Bernice said nothing to give away her surprise at that

suggestion, just stood as Jason walked away, followed by

Emile.

„Hi, this is DNN, bringing you all the Dellah news from the

planet and beyond. I‟m Jake Garrett.

„Admin-Proctor Lucinda Vrana has announced that the rim

worlds around the so-called planet Ardethe are to be patrolled

by AMS forces to stop raiders, pirates and other antisocial

opportunists trying to discover the fate of the AMS Trigan, now

missing for twenty-eight hours, presumed destroyed. The

Admin-Proctor released this statement earlier this evening.

„“I don‟t think it would be safe for anyone to go there until

the Administration has fully investigated the area.”

„In three days Lucinda Vrana will be casting her vote in the

Administration election, hoping to ensure her return to office for

a third term. But with the crisis on Solaados worsening,

despite her presence there, the continuing blockade of Throxill

by the Congress of Galactic Ecologists flotilla led by former

Administrator Posedor aboard the Future Hope - one of

Vrana‟s own staff a few years ago — and the unofficial strike

by the Loaders‟ and Movers‟ Union regarding the rights of

android crews are all problems that her opponents are

claiming the Admin-Proctor has failed to deal with.

„Tomorrow evening, DNN Tonight will be bringing you a

profile of this most contentious of Administration leaders,

possibly the most controversial woman in power since “Mad

Mags” took Earth to the brink of nuclear annihilation nearly six

hundred years ago.

„In the meantime, coming up next: a profile of noted

researcher into viral infections Doctor Aynn Kranten, who died

yesterday in a shuttle accident on Calfadoria, where she had

been running the Cal 2 facility for eight years. Colleagues and

former patients will be paying tribute to this much-missed

member of the fraternity. Also, a report on where best to get

UV-free suntans this year, which holovid characters your

nephews and nieces will want for Christmas and, of course,

all the weather in your system. And after that: how you can

get a free model kit of the newest ship in the fleet, the AMS

Sithnar, which launches tomorrow in Solaadon space.

„This is DNN, bringing you all the Dellah news from the

planet and beyond. I‟m Jake Garrett.‟

It was a heap, no two ways about it. Whatever gods protected

it, they were pretty nice ones who clearly cared a lot about

Jason Kane. By rights, it looked as if it should not even get

off the ground. OK, so Emile was not exactly the System‟s

greatest explorer himself but over the years he‟d seen a few

ships and none of them looked quite so much like a decaying

wreck as this thing.

„Does it actually fly?‟ he called out.

Jason stuck his head out of the doorway. „Did someone

speak?‟

„Just me. Emile, remember? The one person who was

pleased to see you at the bar.‟

„Oh, right. Hang on a sec, I‟m just finishing off checking

that the bots loaded my stuff, then I‟ll come and say a proper

hello. OK?‟

„Fine. Whatever.‟ Emile walked closer. The hull of the ship

was pitted and pockmarked. Surely if there was a leak in

space, Jason would die. And this metal ship looked as if one

swift kick would reduce it to more pieces than Emile‟s dead

mother‟s kitchen drawer had cutlery.

On the underside was scorched a name - Mother Fist - which

looked like it had been done with a blowtorch. A series of

numbers were there as well, but most of them had been

deliberately obliterated by the same blowtorch.

„Numbers are so impersonal,‟ said Jason suddenly behind

him.

Emile moved with a start and bashed his head on the

bottom of Mother Fist.

„I prefer names - they make a craft far more... real. Far more

yours, you understand?‟

Emile was clutching his head, convinced he was bleeding to

death. „Yes, whatever,‟ he said through gritted teeth.

Jason ignored this. „I won her in a game of Twister. The

original owner didn‟t have a nose to touch with his inside leg,

so I won by default. Of course, I set the rules and came up

with the game, but it was too late for him to argue by then.‟

„I don‟t know what Twister is.‟ Emile had discovered that

his crown had not split open, and slowly stood upright again.

„But it sounds fun.‟

„God, I thought even this dreary place had learnt the art of

Twister. Benny was always good at it. I could never work out

whether she enjoyed the winning or just the actual twisting -

but games did tend to go on a few hours.‟

„I never asked before, Jason. Were you married long?‟

„Not really. Long enough to get to know each other, not long

enough to get bored.‟

Emile nodded, and promptly wished he hadn‟t. „Why‟d you

split up?‟

„Ah, that‟s a long story, very messy, very unpleasant, and it

dragged a lot of other people into the tale who really had no

rhyme or reason to be dragged in. Anyway, it‟s over and

that‟s that.‟ Jason held his hand out to Emile. „Good to meet

you again, Emile. But you have my sympathies for being

stuck here.‟

„Take me with you then.‟ He said it without thinking,

without even meaning to. It had just come straight out, like

some kind of instinctive reaction. „I mean... well, yeah, take

me with you. I don‟t want to be stuck here. I mean Bernice is

great and those others are all right, but I‟m bored. I want to

see stars and other planets. I want to... well, go places, I

s‟pose.‟

„Uh-uh. It might look a big enough ship, but it‟s carrying

lots of cargo, and I prefer my own company.‟

„Yeah, I bet you do. No one to argue with, no one to bicker

with, no one to tell you to wash your socks.‟ Emile folded his

arms. „And, of course, no one to boast to about how clever

you were nicking that little bag of data crystals from

Bernice‟s back pocket when you kissed her.‟

Jason frowned.

Emile suddenly grabbed Jason‟s arm, until it was pulled

away. „Oh, go on, Jason. Just a quick trip.‟

„You know,‟ started Jason, putting an arm around Emile‟s

shoulder, „I‟m probably going to regret this, but OK. One trip.

Only. Then back here.‟

„I‟d better tell Bernice...‟ Emile started, but Jason grabbed

him and pushed him towards the door of Mother Fist.

„Oh, no - firstly, she‟ll stop you, and secondly, by now,

she‟ll know I‟ve nicked her data crystal with the Ardethe

information on. And we‟ll never hear the end of it.‟

* * *

„Do you know what that arse-brained, git-headed, pillock-

brained toss-pot has done?‟

Bernice Summerfield threw herself into Braxiatel‟s favourite

armchair, and kicked backwards at it. Twice.

„I assume,‟ Braxiatel said, placing a mug of tea beside her,

„that we are talking about your former betrothed. One Mr

Jason Kane? I heard he was here.‟

„Irving, he stole the bloody data crystal you gave me. He‟s

going there now, to plunder the place for whatever twisted

ends he‟s got.‟

Braxiatel sat opposite her, and wondered how Bernice‟s

bike had managed to get up the steps and through his door,

with Wolsey asleep in the basket on the front.

„Bernice, please tell me you are talking about the Ardethean

information. I imagine someone like Jason would want a

head start there. I hear he‟s involved with some, well,

interesting people these days.‟

„Oh, bugger them, Irving. No, I bet the little bastard swiped

what he thought was the Ardethe information. But what he‟s

also got, and no doubt what he‟s going to stick in his bloody

navcomputer, are the details of the planet Jakson Pierce and

the Trigan crew actually landed on.‟

Braxiatel nodded as he digested all this. „Oh, dear. That is

not good news, I‟m afraid.‟ He stirred his own mug of tea with

a pen. „Did your husband ever write a will?‟

„A what? Oh, I don‟t know. Why?‟

Braxiatel bit his bottom lip. „Well, I think you‟re probably

about to become a beneficiary to his estate. Because if what

we think is really on that planet is really on that planet,

Jason Kane is going to die.‟

Oddly enough, this didn‟t make Bernice feel very good.

4

TRYOUTS FOR THE HUMAN RACE

„How long have you been in service, Blummer?‟

Ryne knew the answer, of course. Everyone did - Blummer

had been in service „all my blasted life‟. He just asked the

question to help pass the time.

„All my blasted life,‟ came the gruff reply from the

inspection hatch below. There was a sudden shower of

sparks and a loud curse. „All my blasted life and they still

can‟t make these so-called access panels accessible.‟

Blummer‟s very round and follicularly challenged head

popped up from the hatchway. „Why, lad?‟

Ryne shrugged. „Well, it‟s these flashing lights, you see,

Blummer. Ever since I joined the service, I‟ve wondered why

the flight deck has so many flashing lights. I mean, look over

there. That lot. Green then red then green then red then

„Is there a point to this, lad? I‟ve got important work to do

down here.‟

Ryne nodded. „Yeah, I want to know why whoever designs

huge great space hulks like this thing builds so many

pointless flashing lights into everything. If you‟ve been in

service so long, you must know what the flashing lights

mean.‟

Blummer frowned at him, a frown that said, without the

need for words, It‟s not our place to worry about such things,

lad. And he vanished again into the hatchway.

Ryne yelled after him. „Of course it‟s our place. One of them

lights goes phut, and we have to replace it. I‟d like to know

what I‟m replacing. And why!‟

Blummer‟s reply was distorted, coming as it did from

beneath a few feet of steel bulkhead. „They never go phut,

lad. In all my years of service, I‟ve not seen one go phut.

Ever.‟

Ryne sighed dramatically. „Why can‟t you just say, “I don‟t

know, Ryne lad - beats me every time”? But no, we have to

get, “It‟s not for the likes of us to ask questions, just get on

and do the job.” Typical.‟

„Besides,‟ came the grunt from below. „It‟s not for the likes

of us to ask questions. We just have to get on and do our

job.‟

Ryne made a V-sign to where he knew Blummer was.

Behind him, there was a loud bang and a fizzing and

phutting noise and one of the flashing banks of lights went

out.

„Oh, no.‟ Naturally, life support didn‟t fail, the ship didn‟t

suddenly career off in a different path and the shuttle didn‟t

eject itself. But, aware that somewhere, deep down, someone

must have had a reason for ranging bank after bank of

flashing lights in the flight deck and, logically, they probably

did indicate something, Ryne yelled down to Blummer.

„One of them light sets has gone phut, Blummer!‟

Blummer‟s head re-emerged a few seconds later. „By heck,

lad, you don‟t half try my patience.‟

„It‟s not me, Blummer, it‟s them lights. Look.‟ Ryne pointed

to the blanked-out bank, a slight smell of smouldering

electrics in the air.

„Well, I‟ll go to the foot of our stairs,‟ Blummer exclaimed

esoterically. „I‟ve not seen that before.‟

„I know,‟ said Ryne. „I know, you told me. But it‟s happened,

hasn‟t it? What will you do?‟

„Me, lad? Why me? I‟m already trying to sort out why the

navcom pods have gone bust. You try and mend them lights.‟

„Me? How? How do I do that? You won‟t never let me touch

the toolbox, let alone actually learn how to do maintenance

round here.‟

Blummer sighed, and tapped his head. „Use your

intelligence, lad. Ask the computer.‟ He vanished again,

although Ryne could hear muttered grumbles and assumed

they had to be about him.

They‟d been assigned to this ship three months ago, when

Ryne had passed his Administration Prison Service exams

and hoped to work as a navigation officer (junior class) on

one of the big space liners. The Hyperion II or that spanking

new Empress VII. But no, he‟d been assigned to the prison

service, lugging scavenger crews about and not being allowed

to talk to anyone except Blummer for months on end.

There was the pilot, of course, but he didn‟t say too much

these days. Once upon a time, he‟d been a captain in the old

Space Fleet, back during the Galactic Wars, but his ship had

been destroyed along with all his crew. When the System

Administration took control, the pilot was officially court-

martialled and released from hospital. Of course, with no

legs, only one arm and a chunk of bulkhead that had

lobotomized him when it had drilled itself into his forehead,

he‟d been unsurprisingly reluctant to leave the hospital.

Indeed, he‟d just sat and dribbled his way through the court

martial, through the reading of his new rights as a normal

citizen and his discharge from the medical centre. No one

even remembered what his name was, but, as he was

clogging up the hospital corridors, it was decided to re-enlist

him under the Administration‟s new cyborg programme. The

poor old git was grafted into the pilot‟s cockpit. Cyborg limbs

that were actually part of the cabin were fused on to his body

and his good arm had been removed, to be replaced with a

cybernetic one similar to his original replacement, similarly

fused into the controls.

Programmed in advance with mission briefs, the pilot sat

for months on end, his body fed with yukky-looking nutrient

tubes, and drove the ship wherever it was supposed to go. All

Ryne had to do was check the navigation route, alert the pilot

to unexpected asteroid fields, stupid skimmer ships crashing

out of hyperlight drive without advance warnings, and ensure

that any drift was compensated for. This meant that, while

Ryne felt he had total responsibility for the ship, in fact if

anything went wrong, it would be the pilot‟s fault and he

could be court-martialled. Again.

Nominally, Blummer was the co-pilot, but all he did was

talk to his one-eyed cat, Smokey (who, Ryne was sure,

regulations would have banned if they knew he was aboard).

As co-pilot, Blummer was actually there to ensure the ship

didn‟t fall apart at the slightest gravitational flux or burnout

of the engine core, or if one of the prisoners suddenly opened

an airlock and spaced themselves (not uncommon

apparently).

This meant that, despite the fact he did very little,

Blummer was actually Ryne‟s superior officer, which Ryne

found very annoying indeed.

Blummer was all right really - he talked too much and all

the guys back at PS had warned him that Blummer was full

of stories spanning his forty years of service, most of them

bullshit and all of them boring. But Ryne had actually found

himself liking the fat old twazzock despite everything and

suspected that the feelings were mutual. At least Blummer

hadn‟t really shouted at him over anything.

Which meant there was only one bone of contention

between them.

Smokey the cat wandered on to the flight deck, obviously

bored with scouring the half-mile-long passage between the

flight deck and the prison area for nonexistent space rats and

space mice. Smokey did that a lot - Blummer had originally

brought him aboard one of his other ships because he was

convinced it was plagued by space rats. The other crew had

ridiculed him and he‟d been forbidden from having Smokey

aboard any other craft. Needless to say, Blummer‟s paranoia

had taken over and Smokey had been sneaked aboard every

ship he‟d ever set foot on. Details of how old Smokey actually

was varied - some said he was as old as Blummer but Ryne

knew even cats didn‟t live that long. Yet there he was, lively,

content, always in the best condition and one empty eye

socket covered with a velvet eye patch.

Ryne thought it wholly possible that there were space rats

and space mice, because the crap Blummer fed Smokey out

of the plastipaks he smuggled aboard would never satisfy

even the most starving of alley cats. No, Smokey was too

happy to be satisfied with microwaved Kanga Chunks, so the

ship undoubtedly had colonies of something else edible.

Hmmm. Regulations forbade the flight crew to intermingle

with the prisoners, governor or guards. Maybe Smokey had

killed all of them, and eaten their bodies.

Ryne gave Smokey a harder look than usual, searching for

traces of half-eaten prisoner around his chops, but Smokey

just sauntered over to the hatchway where his master was

working, hacked up a furball, ignored the surprised shout

from below, and settled on a red cushion in the corner.

„Nice one, Smokey,‟ Ryne smiled.

„Meeow,‟ was Smokey‟s reply.

„Yeah, whatever you say.‟ Ryne‟s attention was back on the

computer - that contentious subject.

„Good morning BABE,‟ he said into the air.

In front of him, the air shimmered slightly and a three-

dimensional holographic face about the size of a side plate

flickered into existence.

„Good morning, Navigator Ryne. How may I help you?‟ The

face opened its lusciously painted red lips alluringly and

winked an eye.

Ryne smiled. Blummer hadn‟t had a chance to reprogram

BABE‟s interactive personality print, which meant Marilyn

Monroe was safe for another day. Ryne wasn‟t actually sure

who Marilyn Monroe was - some famous political figure from

the twentieth century, he thought, the wife of an Earth

president or someone who‟d been assassinated in the back of

a speedercar or something, along with her hubby. History

was not Ryne‟s strongest subject, but he‟d seen pictures of

her in holobooks and thought she was the most beautiful

creature that had ever lived. Blummer, of course, did not

agree and frequently changed the image to that of a rather

stern, indeed sour-looking, older woman, with a hectoring

voice and a holographic hand that always wagged a finger

disapprovingly at them both. Ryne eventually guessed that

this was Blummer‟s Auntie Jessie of whom he spoke

incessantly, as if she were second only to the Goddess in the

giving of all knowledge about everything in the universe.

Ryne decided that if that was Blummer‟s aunt, then it

explained a great deal about him.

But today, BABE was Marilyn Monroe, glistening lips and

sultry eyes and everything.

Phwoaarr.

„BABE, that bank of flashing lights have stopped, well,

flashing. Why?‟

Although totally unnecessary, it had been decided by

BABE‟s creator to include a degree of human-like interaction.

As a result, the holographic head floated over to the defunct

bank and appeared to stare down at it. Then it looked

back at Ryne.

„Circuits eight to eleven have blown.‟

„What do the lights mean?‟

„Mean?‟

„Yeah, like what‟s their...‟ What was the word? Oh yeah.

„What‟s their function! What are they for?‟

The Marilyn Monroe lips blew Ryne a kiss. „Nothing,

Navigator Ryne. They are decorative.‟

Ryne pursed his lips. „Decorative? Why?‟

BABE smiled. „Ever since mankind first discovered space

flight, he has surrounded himself by rows of lights, blinking

in random sequences that look impressive. They are a design

of this kind of ship, placed there to make the crew feel

comfortable. They have no functionality at all. They never

have had in six hundred years of space travel.‟

Ryne just stared at the non-flashing lights. All these years

he had wondered, and now he knew.

„Blummer!‟ he yelled. „Blummer, the lights, they don‟t mean

nothing!‟

„Aye, lad, I could‟ve told you that,‟ Blummer called back. „In

all my years of service, never knew what good they did, so I

figured that out donkey‟s years back.‟

Ryne stared at the open hatchway and felt like dropping

something very heavy and very blunt down it.

„Meeow,‟ added Smokey, rather unhelpfully.

„Yeah, thanks, Smokey.‟ Ryne punched some buttons,

probably a little harder than they needed to be punched.

„BABE, tell the governor that we‟re approaching the planet.‟

„Right away, Navigator Ryne.‟ BABE vanished.

It was a sun-drenched planet, where the small areas of

vegetation were cocooned under vast plastic domes, and what

little animal life existed tried to eke out some kind of living on

the caked and cracked plains.

He sat in a wicker rocking chair, imported just for him, on

the verandah of his large wooden house, also imported just

for him.

A couple of the native wallahs were cleaning around him,

while another was passing him a tray of cold drinks.

„No ice, man. Where‟s the blasted ice?‟

Stupid wallah just stared at him, not understanding. „Ice.

Frozen water, cools the drinks, eh? In the refrigerator. Go on!‟

The stupid wallah bowed and scarpered into the house.

Missy would show him where the ice was kept, but it was a

silly mistake. And that particular wallah had made a few too

many recently. Any more and the poor blighter‟d have to be

shot. Safest thing. Couldn‟t go back to his native life now -

the little devils would never accept him.

Savages - don‟t know why the Administration bothers with

„em.

Still, shouldn‟t complain - not a bad posting this one, lots

of sun, lots of supplies and free servants. The Shabooj‟m

were a pretty stupid race, but the planet was rich in nistrium

and fossil fuels, so it was important for the Administration to

have a permanent presence.

Still, since the mining corporation johnnies all popped off

having done their work, running this garrison for the

Administration was a bit pointless but that didn‟t worry him.

So long as the credits went into his account, Colonel Oliver

Bartholomew Tolland OEE was happy.

Of course, that dratted war had seriously depleted the

Empire‟s resources but little backwaters such as Sha 4

probably would remain forgotten outgoings on a ledger

somewhere, money constantly pumped in without anyone

worrying.

Ah, there was Missy, carrying her iced drink herself, as a

woman should.

„Good gel,‟ he said. „Well done. That young wallah isn‟t

going to last now, Missy. You tell him good that if he no work

better, him no work here at all. Bwana Tolland – him angry

with wallah.‟

There, that told her, and she‟d tell him. Had to keep these

savages in their place, especially that woman.

There was a bleep in his pocket - and when he removed the

offending communicator, it showed a tiny hologram of his

young ranger foreman, Truman Crouch.

„Yes, what is it, Crouch?‟

„It‟s the Shabooj‟m, Colonel! They‟re everywhere!‟

„Well of course they are, man. That‟s why we‟re here. To

keep „em safe and under our protection.‟ What was the fool

going on about?

„No, Colonel. I mean, there are thousands of them, tens of

thousands, all around us and... Oh my God, no!‟

The hologram disappeared.

Crouch and his rangers were being attacked - the bloody

savages were rising up against their masters. After all we‟ve

done for „em, as well.

It was the heat - it was intolerable of course. But the

Shabooj‟m were using it, relying on it to weaken the humans

who were there to keep them safe. Well, Colonel Tolland

would show „em.

He stood up, although the sudden bloodrush made him a

bit giddy. The two Shabooj‟m moved away in alarm.

„What‟s going on, eh?‟ He shouted into the air. „Missy?‟

The female Shabooj‟m rushed out on to the verandah.

„Bwana?‟

But there was something about her - something that

Tolland could see had changed. Like all women, Missy was a

master of deception and evil, just like -

He shot her dead - straight through the forehead between

her four eyes. One by one they closed and her small, wizened,

grey body dropped to the floor.

One of the other Shabooj‟m was going for a weapon,

concealed behind the house. Tolland shot him twice in the

back and then shot the third in the side of the head, before

he could produce his concealed knife.

The other wallah, the one so useless with the drinks,

rushed out of the house, so Tolland picked him off in mid-

charge. Two shots to the stomach almost split him open and

he was dead before he bounced on to the other end of the

verandah.

No bloody savages were going to overthrow their rightful

masters today!

Of course, it had all been Truman Crouch‟s doing - a set-up

from the start.

Oh, yes, he‟d told the court martial that he hadn‟t sent any

holomessages at all - very clever that, managing to scramble

all the communications systems that morning so no records

were made. He‟d thought it all through very nicely, thank

you so much. No, apparently he and the rangers had been on

the south plantation, worrying about some kind of Sha insect

that was destroying a crop yield. And Tolland‟s „murder spree‟

had been a result of hallucinations and mirages brought on

by Sha‟s twin suns dehydrating him. Nonsense!

No, Crouch was clearly one of that ecology lot, a spy in the

Empire‟s midst, and they‟d hoodwinked them all. But not

Colonel Oliver Tolland (now stripped of his OEE for some

stupid reason). No, he could see what those desk jockeys

never could. That the Administration was being betrayed,

eroded from within. Now that the war was over, the old ways

were falling away, giving in to this new, liberal

Administration. And the old colonies, planets that men like

him had lived and breathed to occupy and raise pennants on,

they were being squandered. Sha was just the latest – and

they had the audacity to blame it on him. They had called his

self-defence against that blasted Missy woman and her

hordes „slaughter of innocent indigenes‟, and had promptly

given in to the Shabooj‟m.

Just watch, eh? Just watch in five years when those

savages have wrecked their planet and come crawling back

on their hands and knees begging for forgiveness.

The court martial declared that the Shabooj‟m at the house

had no weapons hidden there, that there were no knives or

guns on them, but Tolland knew what he saw. Fire in their

eyes - the calling cards of killers.

It was all Crouch‟s fault - Oliver Tolland (they‟d then

stripped his military rank, for no reason) would get his

revenge.

But somewhere behind it all was that bloody woman

Maureen. All his life, he‟d been plagued by her, as she

worked from whatever place she was living in now, to get her

revenge on him. Whatever he had done in his life, he knew

that when something went wrong it was because of her. She

would never give up, never let him forget her. She had friends

in high places, he knew that. People who would help her get

revenge for what she said Oliver Tolland had done to her.

„One day, Maureen Tolland, I will find out where you are

hiding, and you‟ll know revenge then. One fine day

„Did you speak, Governor Tolland?‟

„Wha-‟

Governor Oliver Tolland was awake in an instant. Not on

Sha, not at some military tribunal. Not even in the courtroom

where those allegations about what he did to his wife came to

light.

No, he was in his bloody office on this bloody spaceship.

Packed with bloody women.

„What d‟you want, computer?‟

„I was responding to what I believed was a sound from you,

Governor Tolland.‟ BABE‟s holographic visage hovered before

him.

„Who the bloody hell... have those blasted flight-crew

johnnies been tampering with your internal imaging systems

again, computer?‟

„I believe so, Governor Tolland. I understand I am Marilyn

Monroe. According to my databanks, she was a celebrity from

a primitive moving-image video, circa the late 1950s.‟

„Can‟t you change it?‟

„No, Governor Tolland. My imaging can only be accessed by

human operatives.‟

Tolland sighed, and settled back into his chair. „And what‟s

the betting, eh, computer, that I can‟t do it from here?‟

„Indeed not, Governor Tolland.‟

„Typical. I‟m supposed to be the bloody governor of this

ruddy great ship and I can‟t even reprogram the wretched

mainframe. Good, eh?‟

„If you say so, Governor Tolland.‟

„Yes. Yes, I do say so...‟ Tolland couldn‟t remember what he

was saying so, but that did not matter now. „What d‟you

want, computer, eh?‟

„The flight-deck report that we are approaching the

assigned planet.‟

„Oh, jolly good show. Well, I suppose we need to warn the

prisoners, get them ready to do their business and all that.

Thank you, computer.‟

„Governor.‟ BABE vanished.

Tolland steepled his fingers and rocked back slightly in his

comfortable armchair. He looked around his not small office -

the nice paper-lined walls, painted a soft green. Paintings

and sculptures - memories of his many colonial postings -

plus a framed photograph of himself standing aside a dead

mudwampa he‟d bagged while he and Maureen had been on

safari on Llandros.

In the corner, farthest from the door, was a massive fish

tank, taking up nearly the whole wall, with just two brightly

coloured fish in it, swimming around, with enough food to

keep them happy.

The opposite wall was lined with archaic metallic filing

cabinets, full of sheets of paper because Tolland preferred to

work that way. Keeping everything on computer chip and

using datapads was all very well, but nothing made him feel

more secure, more in control of his environment, than

keeping the paperwork up to date.

It also gave him something to do, trapped out here in the

vastness of space - not that he could see it. The ship was

deliberately designed without any kind of viewing ports

except for the flight deck - and he would never go up there.

The enlisted crew (all two of them) and the pilot lived up

there. Regulations forbade them to take the lengthy walk into

the prison sector, and he had no desire himself to converse

with the galaxy‟s uneducated movers and loaders.

He got up and opened one of the filing-cabinet drawers -

empty except for a bottle of finest bourbon. Saving that for a

special occasion - the date of his retirement from this

hideous job the service had found him.

The ship was massive and, on learning its specifications,

Oliver Tolland had been impressed. Clearly those fools at the

court martial still realized that men like him were not two a

penny and deserved something of quality to do. If he was

forbidden to return to a planet-side colony, then a ship big

enough to hold a colony would do.

It was not until his papers, or rather microstrip for his

datapad, came through that he realized that he was not a

colonial governor as he thought, but a prison governor. Sent

out to administer a deep-space scavenger crew - the scum of

the galaxy who avoided the death sentences or life

imprisonment passed down to them by working for the

Administration.

The scavenger crew were used to going to planets and

removing whatever was there deemed necessary by the

governor. This could involve wearing suits on radiation-

blasted former war zones to retrieve lost weaponry or

corpses, going into alien environments to get samples for the

terraformers, or just getting as much scrap metal and other

things as possible to return to the Service for smelting down.

It was an unpleasant job and frequently the prisoners died

through negligence, faulty equipment or their own stupidity.

Escape attempts were rare - the planets visited were not the

sort that other ships were likely to come to and enable

rescue. But for a majority of the prisoners, it was a better life

than a punishment dome on one of the outer moon colonies

or asteroid-belt harbours, waiting for their termination

orders.

Governor Tolland‟s dismay at his new job was further

enhanced when he learnt that the entire group of prisoners

were women. Bawdy, butch thugs who fought and bitched

and screamed and raved like Maureen had for so many years.

It was like being locked up with eight clones of his ex-wife, all

sneering at him.

As a result, he tended to leave the running of the women to

the pair of Grutchas that the Administration employed as

guards. An irony, that. The Grutcha were a canine species -

and Cassius and his partner Brutus reminded Tolland of

nothing more than man-shaped Alsatian dogs. Nasty,

brutish, but loyal and intelligent. The women rarely argued

with them. All dogs together, eh?

Right now, he was a man - or Grutcha - down, as Brutus

had recently fallen ill. The ship‟s MO, another prisoner called

Njobe, had diagnosed her as being run-down and stressed

out, but Tolland knew the Grutchas of old. Fabulously

resilient creatures, always ready to fight and die for their

masters during the recent wars. For a Grutcha, especially a

female, to be „stressed‟ was a little odd. But, despite her

criminal status, Tolland had a grudging respect for Njobe -

whatever her crime was (it was the only one not on file,

apparently a favour in return for her being the ship‟s medical

officer), she did her job exceptionally well.

Tolland replaced the bourbon untouched to its drawer and

reached back to his ornately carved (but fake wood) desk and

pressed the buzzer on the communications device.

Instantly a holo of Cassius‟s furry face appeared.

„Governor?‟

„Good morning, Cassius. Could you send... Lloyd in please.‟

He had nearly referred to Lloyd as „Top Dog‟, the traditional

name for the democratically (or probably undemocratically)

elected leader of women prisoners. Somehow phrases like

„Top Dog‟ seemed inappropriate when Grutchas were

about - Grutchas had honour and class and should not be

insulted.

„Immediately, Governor,‟ Cassius‟s holo disappeared and

Tolland opened his desk drawer.

He moved the service blaster aside (a relic of his past which

he had insisted on taking aboard; the Administration

couldn‟t be bothered to argue and had let him) and removed

a large tube of fish food.

He crossed to the fish tank and began to tip the contents

on to the top of the water, watching as Guppy and Matilda

swam happily to the surface, their eyes gazing at him with

love and adoration.

Oliver Tolland considered Guppy and Matilda to be his only

real „family‟ these days - they‟d been with him on both

Analyas V and then later on Sha.

People forever told him that fish could not return his

affection, that they just weren‟t built that way, but eighteen

years with his tropical fish had taught Oliver Tolland

differently. He knew they respected him, because what else

could they do? He had nurtured them, no one else. Of course

they recognized his affection and returned it.

Experts! Who needed them?

„There you are, Guppy. Hello, Tilda. You eat all of that up

now. Mmm. Lovely, yes? Not long now my loves and you‟ll

soon be on Kastor Major and we can put you into a big

aquarium with lots of new colourful friends. There, there. It‟s

not nice, is it? Keeping you caged up like this. You don‟t

deserve it. Not like some people I could mention.‟

Perhaps appropriately the buzzer to his office buzzed, but

he carried on feeding and inspecting his fish. It was just as

much part of his daily ritual as Lloyd‟s morning reports. And

anyway, she knew he‟d be with his fish.

She liked them too.

„Talking of which...‟ Tolland said to the fish. „Come in,

Lloyd.‟

There was no sound of the door opening, so, sighing to

himself, Tolland turned away from his fish to let Lloyd in,

only to find her already standing there.

„I said to come in - oh, I see you already have. It might have

been better protocol to wait until asked, Lloyd.‟

Lloyd stood there in her green coveralls, arms folded, her

russet-coloured hair shaved close apart from one very long

bootlace-width plait which ran from the base of her hair

down to the small of her back. In Tolland‟s day, regulations

would have been adhered to and the plait hacked off, but

these days prisoners could get away with murder - no pun

intended - and regulations went by the board. It had been

Cassius and Brutus who had suggested to Tolland after his

first meeting with Lloyd that he let the women get away with

their eccentricities of hair and make-up. It was one thing

fewer for them to get aggressive over.

Tolland was not particularly in favour but agreed to let it go

for a trial period. But if these blasted women let him down,

well, there‟d be hell to pay and no mistake.

„You wanted to see me, Tolland?‟

„That‟s Governor Tolland to you, Lloyd. You may have

elected yourself Top Dog but to me you‟re just the same

irrelevant baggage. And it is customary to wait before

entering my office. Learn any manners at the Remand

Centre?‟

„You wanted to see me, Governor Tolland?‟

Was there any disrespect in Lloyd‟s voice? It was so hard to

tell: she was so good at masking herself. Lloyd could make an

outrageous demand sound like a harmless request if she so

wanted - Tolland had almost been caught out by her, but not

yet. Oh, no, Oliver Tolland was not as stupid as Lloyd and

the others might want to think. In his day, women were

upfront, not duplicitous. And Lloyd had a very strong voice,

hard and rough, as if she gargled with sandpaper or

something. Attractive in a bestial sort of way. To some people,

anyway.

„Yes. I think we‟ve actually got something to do. Some

orders came in yesterday, and we‟re approaching our

designated target now.‟

„And about bloody time, too.‟ Lloyd paused a minute and

then continued. „Well? What and where?‟

Tolland coughed, pointedly. She had to learn a bit of

patience, you know. Remember that he was her governor and

would take as little or as much time as he wanted to explain

things.

„It‟s a relatively unexplored planet named Ardethe. There‟s

been a bunch of military and archaeological types who have

gone missing. Administration believes they‟re all dead - we

have to go down, salvage anything we can from their

encampment and try to find out what happened. Of course,

they‟ve not checked to see if it‟s safe for us. Oh, no. In my

day that would‟ve been the first thing, but now it‟s just

orders to send us down and find what we can.‟

Lloyd smiled, but Tolland could see the irony in her eyes.

„We are expendable, Governor. Besides, you‟ll be quite safe

up here on the KayBee 2. It‟s just me and the other prisoners

who‟ll be exposed to whatever is down there.‟

„Yes, young lady, well that‟s just where you may be wrong.

The AMS Trigan has vanished as well, in orbit, just as we will

be, so I‟m in as much danger as you lot. So get in, get out

and be quick. I want a preliminary report as soon as

possible. Understood?‟

„I suppose so, Governor. Why are the Administration so

interested in a dig anyway?‟

„Ours is not to reason why, Lloyd. Well, anyway, yours isn‟t.

Get your lot together and prepare for landfall in about two

hours.‟

„My “lot” will be ready, Governor Tolland. They always are.‟

Yes, well, there was something else he wanted to say to this

young Missy. Knock some of that smug arrogance out of her,

eh? In his day, women knew their place. Speak when spoken

to and all that.

„One last thing, Lloyd: I‟m not enamoured by your tone or

general attitude. If you‟re not careful, I‟ll intervene and put

someone else in charge. Someone like Townsend might make

a good new Top Dog.‟

Lloyd laughed loudly - not the reaction she ought to have

given. Her accent became marginally stronger when she

answered him.

„Townsend? In charge? Ha! That I‟ll have to see!‟

„Don‟t go too far, Lloyd. People have always said that Oliver

Tolland is a fair and generous governor. Please don‟t let me

tarnish my own reputation.‟

Tolland turned back to his Guppy and Matilda, dropping

them a few more titbits from the food tube.

Lloyd had wandered away - he could hear that she was

back by the door.

„Of course not, Governor. Your reputation as a fair and just

man is legendary in the dorm.‟ The door slid open. „Give the

fish a bite for me.‟ And she was gone.

„You know, Guppy, in my day women like that would‟ve

been shot for that. Yes, they would. Backchat indeed! Why

did I have to end up here? Not like in the old days when we

knew what was what, eh?‟

Ryne was struggling to reattach some pieces of very frayed-

looking copper wiring to the back-plates of the flashing lights.

He knew it was a pointless exercise but, while the pilot took

them into orbit around this big blue planet, he had nothing

better to do.

And Blummer was cooking something in the tiny galley,

and Ryne needed something to take his mind off that. Even

Smokey had opted for a leave of absence somewhere in the

bowels of the KayBee 2 that only cats could find.

„What d‟you think we‟re doing here anyway?‟ he yelled out.

Blummer grunted from the galley. „Bound to be dangerous,

lad. Always is on these scavenger ships.‟

„Oh, cheers, Blummer, mate. You‟re really cheering me up.

Remind me to invite you to my funeral - make it a real party,

won‟t you?‟

Blummer‟s fat face appeared at the entrance to the flight

deck. „Ryne, lad, when you‟ve done this job for as long as I

have, you learn not to worry about things. Just get the ship

to wherever it‟s meant to be, take your pay packet and enjoy

life during your leave periods. Then next time you get

assigned it‟ll be a cruise liner with a decent canteen, a decent

bed and decent stewardesses wanting to brighten your life

up.‟

Ryne managed to get two lights to blink pointlessly.

„Knowing my luck it‟ll be a dumper tug with some smelly old

git of a skipper who‟ll just laugh at us and make us do his

work while he shags the barmaid at the Stardust Dancer.‟

Blummer shook his head. „Your problem, Ryne, is that

you‟re always looking on the black side. Cheer up. And lunch

is nearly ready. What d‟you want?‟

„Aww, go on, surprise me.‟

„You‟ve got it, Ryne, lad. I‟ll do you a feast to remember.‟ He

disappeared back into the galley.

Ryne shoved a screwdriver a bit too hard into a back-plate

and fractured the perspex on the light. „Yeah, I bet I‟ll

remember it. I‟ll probably see it again once or twice tonight.

Any second now, it‟ll be “Yeast and Water Mix” or “Soaked

Yeast” or -‟

„Hey, lad, how does Instant Yeast grab you?‟

„Yeah, great, Blummer. Just great,‟ Ryne shouted back. He

shook his head. Goddess, which was better? Trapped in this

floating tomb or slowly being poisoned by Blummer‟s culinary

delights with yeast and water? Two lights phutted out again,

despite the repairs he had performed on them scant

moments earlier. „Oh, for crying out loud!‟

Ryne prepared to start all over again when an alarm buzzer

sounded. He rolled out from under the console and ran

towards the pilot‟s module, climbing the six-runged ladder

into the cramped space. Readings were zipping across

monitor screens and the internal lights dipped to a dull red,

indicating an emergency.

Of course, only the pilot would normally have been aware

of this but Ryne had intended to reroute that particular

emergency measure so that the whole flight deck would get

the same warning, but he had never got round to it.

„Blummer!‟ he yelled.

Within seconds, Blummer was at the bottom of the ladder,

looking up. He was sensible enough to know there was barely

enough room for the pilot and Ryne, let alone a third person.

„This pilot is so stupid,‟ Ryne screamed. „It‟s all very well for

the Prison Service to stick him in here, but he lacks any

instinct. We‟ve got a skimmer coming out of hyperlight in

front of us, and he didn‟t do anything except sound the

alarm!‟

„What‟re you doing then, lad?‟

„Trying to divert us slightly. If this bloody skimmer comes

out in the next sixty seconds, half his hull will bond to this

flight deck and you and I will know what it‟s like to live inside

a solid metal bulkhead. For half a second before we go splat!‟

„Fair enough, lad. You keep working. Ignore me. You don‟t

have to -‟

„Blummer, shut up!‟

„Yes, lad.‟

„Stupid bloody pilot. Stupid, stupid, stupid!‟ Ryne tapped

furious commands into the navigational console, tying to

shift their vectors slightly. Get away from the opening that

was forming to let the skimmer through. „What kind of idiot

drops out of hyperlight at this speed anyway without booking

a flight plan?‟

„Raiders?‟

„Well, unless they want a bunch of butch women and

Tolland‟s fish, I can‟t see why they hit us and not a cruiser.

Besides, I thought this area was under Administration

jurisdiction. No one else allowed here.‟

„Try telling raiders that, lad.‟

„Good point.‟ Ryne made a last couple of jabs at the

console. „Done it. Slowed down enough. BABE! What‟s going

on?‟

The image of Marilyn Monroe popped into existence.

„Hey, where‟s Maiden Aunt Jessie gone,‟ growled Blummer.

Ryne ignored him. „BABE, the skimmer should materialize

directly above us. Can we deflect it away?‟

„Yes Navigator Ryne. I can divert auxiliary power to the

shields above.‟

„Do it, then get a trace on that skimmer.‟

„Why, lad?‟

„Because, Blummer, I‟ve just overridden that stupid pilot‟s

programming and will have to answer for it back home. I‟d

like some kind of proof to back my reasoning up.‟

There was a pause, then: „I cannot lock on to that skimmer,

Navigator Ryne. It has dropped out of hyperlight but already

moved off.‟

Ryne cursed. „You had plenty o f . . . oh, sod it. Where has it

gone?‟

„Towards the planet below. I shall alert Governor Tolland.‟

„Yes... if I can‟t have it tracked, at least have it logged.

Thank you for your help, BABE.‟ Bloody computers.

Governor Tolland was flicking through some papers when

BABE‟s holographic face suddenly arrived in his office.

„Oh, computer, in my day you‟d have given a little bleep to

let me know you wanted my attention.‟

„My apologies, Governor Tolland. Would you like me to

create a subroutine to ensure that in future?‟

„Yes please, that would be most appreciated.‟ Tolland put

his papers away. „Now, what can I do for you, eh?‟

„Navigator Ryne asked me to inform you that everything

was proceeding smoothly, Governor Tolland, and that this

ship should be in orbit within thirty minutes.‟

Tolland frowned. „Oh.‟ That seemed a fairly pointless errand

to tie computer time and energy up on. He tried to remember

Ryne: tall, thin chap, too young and spotty to be the

navigator. That‟s what he recalled. Mind you, he had a spark

more brain in him than that tubby co-pilot, Bluster or

whatever he was called. He‟d seen them on the day they took

off from Service Central, but not since. Quite right, too - they

had their jobs and he had his. So long as the dratted ship got

them to Ardethe, that was all that mattered.

„Well, thank him very much, computer.‟

„Of course, Governor Tolland.‟ The face vanished as quietly

as it had come, leaving Tolland with his paperwork.

„Odd computer, that one,‟ he muttered. „Might need an

overhaul or upgrade when we get home.‟ He looked across

the room to his fish tank, and smiled happily. Dear Guppy,

dear Matilda. Not a worry in the world. No women prisoners,

no guards, no nervous navigators, no objectionable

computers. Just lots of water and food, all they needed.

Lucky blighters.

The lighting on the flight deck had reverted to normal, and

Blummer was placing plates of steaming grey mush on to the

tiny foldaway table he‟d set up.

A red checkerboard tablecloth with matching napkins had

been spread on it, a large dish of nothing covering an ugly

red stain from some previous inedible disaster he had

conjured up for Ryne‟s delight.

Smokey made a brief appearance, sniffed at the grey sludge

and with his one good eye gave Ryne a sympathetic look,

mewed briefly and slunk away somewhere.

Lucky bloody cat, thought Ryne. „This looks good,

Blummer,‟ he lied cheerfully.

„Aye, lad, yeast is a major source of protein, energy and

nutrient. Can‟t go wrong with yeast.‟

Probably had shares in the yeast companies, Ryne decided.

No other reason why anyone would spend so much time

extolling the virtues of something so bloody inedible.

BABE materialized directly in front of Blummer. „Hello Co-

Pilot Blummer,‟ it purred, giving him a wink.

„I demand, Ryne, that you give it back Maiden Aunt Jessie‟s

face!‟

Ryne just smiled at the Marilyn face, which blew him a very

slow kiss. „I have given the governor your message, Navigator

Ryne. He says it is logged and he commended your quick

action.‟ BABE vanished.

Ryne smiled at Blummer. „Good to know someone

appreciates me.‟

„Yeah, right. When we‟ve eaten dinner, how about a quick

game before we enter orbit and I have to start doing the real

work around here?‟

„Such as?‟

„Tiddlywinks?‟

Ryne shook his head, trying not to gag on his first

mouthful of grey yeast something-or-other. „Using what?‟

„My portable set, of course.‟ Blummer was shovelling his

food away as if he hadn‟t eaten in weeks.

Ryne wanted to gag a bit more. „Blummer, the last time we

played tiddlywinks with your portable set, half the

tiddlywinks were missing. You, in your infinite wisdom, had

tried to pass „em off on Drebin as “ancient Earth gold

sovereigns”, which wouldn‟t have been quite so bad if they

hadn‟t been red and green plastic.‟

„Got off the planet though, didn‟t we lad? Bought us time to

escape that dreadful reptile and his hired hands.‟

Ryne shuddered at the thought. „Anyway, I hated

tiddlywinks. You always used to win.‟

„That‟s because it‟s a game of skill and strategy, Ryne. You

just have to have the knack.‟

„Or the ability to invent new rules each time your tiddly

goes and winks off the table.‟

Blummer coughed. „Yes, well. All right.‟

As Blummer started clearing away, Smokey popped his

head around the entrance, checking it was safe to come in

without being force-fed Ryne‟s unwanted yeast. Satisfied that

his stomach was safe for another few hours, he crossed the

deck, jumped up the steps and into the pilot‟s module, where

he curled up on the cyborg‟s lap and went to sleep.

Space, so much space. Even now, after two months travelling

in this rusting hulk of a ship, she still couldn‟t quite get used

to all the space.

The KayBee 2, as the ship was now called, had once been

the Gossamer Wing, a huge pleasure cruiser taking hundreds

of rich passengers from one end of the galaxy to the other at

hyperlight speeds, powered by massive tri-star neutronic

engines.

Now, eighty per cent of the luxurious rooms and saunas

and restaurants and reception areas had been gutted,

painted dark grey and converted into huge holds in which the

various scavenged materials that were now the purpose of

this ship‟s flights could be stored. A handful of rooms had

been customized to hold prisoners (twenty in total, out of the

original five hundred), although only eight were used at the

moment. The captain‟s quarters served as Governor Tolland‟s

office and sleeping area, while the two Grutcha guards had a

suite to themselves. Only the ship‟s original medical centre

was still in use, although unsurprisingly bereft of anything

other than a basic pharmacy and a couple of diagnostic beds.

Siobhan Lloyd rubbed an itch on her nose - her nose

always itched when there was trouble brewing - and the

women she was Top Dog of personified „trouble‟. She hadn‟t

asked to be in charge, the others had just sort of accepted

this when she was the first to speak up and work out who

would sleep where when they had been herded aboard.

The KayBee 2 had arrived on the unnamed little asteroid

orbiting Rimulus after leaving Service Central a few days

before. The prisoners selected then collected the few

possessions they had in storage at Kamp Konkordia, and

departed. Kamp Konkordia was the correction centre built on

the asteroid, from which there was no escape - to go to Kamp

Konkordia was a life sentence and you either died there or

got transferred to scavenger detail as Lloyd and the others

had done.

Lloyd had gone to Kamp Konkordia direct from the

courtroom on Kastor Major, where she had been sentenced.

Her life partner had been in court as well, but been taken to

a different remand centre - Lloyd had no idea where. All she

knew was that they had been separated after eight years and

she was determined to locate that centre and be reunited.

Somehow.

Kastor Major‟s oppressive totalitarianism had no regard for

individual rights and was considered somewhat archaic and

partisan by the System Administration, but because it was

an ally rather than a colony world, the Administration were

unable to interfere with its legal system. Whereas all the

other women on board fell directly under the Administration‟s

control, Lloyd‟s unique status might have been another thing

that singled her out in their eyes. Certainly back at Kamp

Konkordia, her origins and her crime had made her a

target of many other prisoners (all women - mixed centres

were a definite no-no), led always by one Marianne

Townsend. On hearing she was being transferred to the

scavenger detail, Lloyd had breathed a sigh of relief – she was

able to cope with the other prisoners quite well but after

eighteen months even Lloyd was becoming tired of Townsend.

To discover that they were to be cooped up on the KayBee 2

together was an irony she was sure wasn‟t lost on Kamp

Konkordia‟s governor.

In Kamp Konkordia, the women had been restricted in so

many ways: their time (twelve hours a day working), their

personal space (six to a dorm), their personal habits (Lloyd

enjoyed reading, almost impossible with the noise and

activity back at the centre) and their communication with

each other (talking was forbidden in the thin corridors, and

after ten at night).

Here, Lloyd took a great deal of pleasure in just walking

around in the holds or along the corridors to the medical

centre or Tolland‟s office and wallowing in the fact that she

could go for fifteen minutes without seeing anyone else.

One day, she might try to get towards the flight deck.

Apparently there was a triple dwarf-star-alloy hatchway

separating the two sections of the ship, but there had to be a

bypass somewhere, because in the days when this had been

the Gossamer Wing, emergency regulations would have

insisted on it.

But for now, she had thirty minutes to pick a team to get

down to this planet, find what Tolland had been ordered to

get them to find, and get out again. Sure, it was a dangerous

occupation, but, if nothing else, it gave their existence more

meaning than Kamp Konkordia‟s microchip replacement

service or uniform repair service ever could.

But who to take? Townsend, without a doubt. She was

aggressive, spiteful and deeply unpleasant - if Lloyd could

find a way to space her she would - but at least planet-side,

she could keep an eye on her. Charley Connor would be good

- she was a scrapper and argumentative but with more

brains than any of the others. She had a curiosity that could

help them find stuff they might otherwise overlook. Two

others - Jeni Grierson because... well, she just wanted Jeni

around. Poor kid wasn‟t old enough to really understand any

of this, barely a teenager, lost her family to the big space

plague left behind after the wars. Finally? Yeah, Jay Hallett,

the cocky one. Too much a right-hand woman for Townsend

to be left up here.

Lloyd pushed open the doorway to the mess hall where the

others were polishing off breakfast, except Ghoti. With a nod

of greeting to Cassius, who nodded back, Lloyd scooped up

some slop and threw it on to a plate. She then sat next to

Jeni Grierson and Lisa DeJoine, which unfortunately placed

her opposite Townsend and Hallett, who were, as usual,

grinning like Cheshire cats at some shared joke that was

probably unfunny, unremarkable and unpleasant.

Townsend stopped just as she was putting the last of her

breakfast in her mouth. „Ooh, watch out, everybody. Here

comes teacher‟s pet.‟

Lloyd sighed. Same old routine. Every crukking morning.

„Yeah, right, that‟s so funny, Townsend. The hysteria‟s killing

me.‟

Connor finished off her food with a belch. „So what‟s the

news? Anything happening?‟

„Could be.‟ Lloyd tried to ignore the tastelessness of her

food. Yeast and water. Why couldn‟t someone find some new

and original ways of making this stuff edible?

Townsend glared at her. „Well, don‟t keep us in suspense,

woman. Spit it out.‟

Hallett made a hawking sound in her throat, and Jeni

Grierson flinched slightly. This only made Hallett worse and

she started to bend back her fork, ready to send a dollop of

food flying in Jeni‟s direction, causing Townsend to smile

eagerly.

Lloyd coughed quietly, and caught Hallett‟s eye. For a brief

second, Hallett was caught between a rock and a hard place -

Townsend‟s encouragement and Lloyd‟s obvious warning.

Hallett replaced her food on her own plate and carried on

eating. Townsend sighed and shot another venomous look at

Lloyd, who ignored her.

„Basically, the Prison Service thinks -‟

„Ah, you‟ve been tricked. The Prison Service can‟t think.‟

DeJoine waited for everyone to laugh, but no one did, so she

opted out of making further comments.

„The Prison Service,‟ Lloyd continued, „says there‟s been an

accident down below. Some AMS crew and a bunch of grave

robbers have vanished. So guess what, kiddies - we‟re off to

find buried treasure.‟

The groans from everyone else underlined their

displeasure.

„Maybe that was all the Prison Service could think of for us

to do.‟ Jeni didn‟t speak very often, but when she did Lloyd

knew it took a bit of guts. Nine times out of ten Townsend or

Hallett would throw some stupid comment back. Today was

no exception.

„Maybe it‟s all they could think of,‟ Townsend mimicked.

„Cruk, you‟re pathetic, Grierson.‟

„Drop it, Townsend.‟

Townsend looked at Lloyd, undisguised loathing on her

face. „Oh, dear, have I offended the poor pretty teenager? Is

the big hulking dyke gonna jump to her protection? Ah, how

brave, how nice. How sick.‟

Connor interrupted them both. „So, when do we go?‟

„Soon enough, Charley. Time for you to get yourself

together and bring some kit. We might have to do some

digging.‟ Lloyd pointed at Hallett. „Jay, you‟re piloting the

shuttle, Jeni, you‟re coming too.‟ Lloyd then put a hand on

DeJoine‟s shoulder, ignoring the slight flinch before moving it

off again. DeJoine wasn‟t phobic about Lloyd - the woman

knew that. But she was phobic about touch - and Lloyd

could only guess at what trauma the French girl had gone

through at some point to make her that edgy. „Lisa, I want

you and Ghoti to stay put, OK?‟

DeJoine nodded. „OK. Have you told Ghoti that you‟re

going?‟

„Hardly,‟ butted in Townsend. „Little Miss Religion is busy

praying to “Hindiwindionionbhaji”.‟

Lloyd ignored her. „I‟ll talk to her after her meditation.‟

„And me?‟

„You, Townsend? You‟re coming with us - right at the front,

where I can keep an eye on you. And, if there‟s any justice in

this universe, there‟ll be something big, slimy and nasty

down there that‟ll pick you off first.‟ Lloyd smiled

humourlessly. „Is that OK?‟

„What supplies are we taking? How long do you think, O

Great Leader, we‟ll be down there?‟

„Long enough for you to dry out, Townsend.‟

„Dry out? Chance‟d be a fine thing to get pissed. Little Jeni

here‟s probably had all the booze, thinking it‟s soda pop.‟

Jeni looked up, alarmed. „No I haven‟t, Marianne! Honest. I

wouldn‟t steal

Lloyd leant across the table, her face level with Townsend‟s.

„Grierson doesn‟t drink, Townsend. Leave her alone.‟

„Oh, sorry. We forgot you‟re little Miss Innocent‟s guardian

angel. Hey, Jay, let‟s go party with the baby -‟

Lloyd‟s hand was suddenly on Townsend‟s wrist, holding it

down on the table, very hard. „Friendly warning Townsend:

lay one filthy digit on that girl, influence her in any way, and

I‟ll string you up.‟

Townsend wrenched her hand free. „Yeah? And you try it,

sweetheart, and you‟ll be sitting on your face for the rest of

the trip.‟

Connor slammed her fist on to the table. „Hey, ease up you

two. It‟s going to be a long day.‟

Townsend kept her eyes firmly locked on Lloyd. „Yeah, and

it‟s getting longer.‟

Human women. He would never really understand them.

Why did they spend so much of their lives hating and fighting

instead of just trying that bit harder to get along with each

other?

Cassius had not wanted this posting. He and his mate

Brutus had been told it was an honour to serve under the

famous Colonel Oliver Tolland OEE, but even on Cerberus

they had heard that Tolland had been stripped of all ranks

and privileges after starting a massacre on his last colony.

There was no honour in serving such a human as that.

Now Brutus was ill and unconscious in the medical area.

The human medical officer was very pleasant but she didn‟t

know that much about Grutchas and he was worried that

Brutus might be sicker than the doctor realized.

It had come on very suddenly - Brutus had been playing

some game with the on-board computer when she had

complained of a headache. Within half an hour, she was

comatose and Cassius was rushing her to the doctor.

Since then, Brutus had not regained consciousness and

while everything inside Cassius made him want to sit beside

her and care for her, he knew that their honour would be

debased if he abandoned his post as guard to these human

criminals.

Watching them fight and snarl reminded him of the pups

back home, except that they were too immature to know

better. These humans were supposed to be intelligent, but

really they were just savages.

He quite liked a couple of them - Lloyd, the leader, was

pleasant, and the technical one, Connor, she was fun at

times. But the others left him cold. Only the small, dark-

skinned one with the red spot on her forehead seemed

interesting. Her life was governed by her faith, but it also

satisfied her. Belief in the gods, even if they weren‟t the gods

that Grutchas believed in, was always to be respected and

honoured.

And Grutchas always believed in their own personal

honour, no matter what provocation was put in their way.

Lloyd was walking past him. „Hi, Cassius. How‟s Brutus?‟

„Her condition remains stable, thank you, Lloyd.‟

„Good. Good. Be nice to see her up and about sometime

soon.‟ Lloyd looked back at the women. „Says a lot when I‟m

more concerned about the screws than the other prisoners,

eh, Cassius?‟

As she left, it crossed Cassius‟s mind that sometimes Lloyd

was almost too good to be true.

„There we are, my darlings. Lots more food to come before the

end of the day.‟ Tolland was still standing at the fish tank,

emptying the last of one tube of food on to the water. He

turned around to face the tall, rather poised woman standing

by the door.

She had a quite regal bearing that Tolland found most

interesting - if it wasn‟t for the white smock and trousers she

was wearing, she might be a holovid model. Her almost black

skin reflected the light beautifully, underscoring her

pronounced cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes and naturally

puckered lips. Tolland‟s ancestors would have probably

referred to her as a Nubian slave or some such in their day,

but to him, she was an object of beauty and perfection. On a

ship otherwise loaded with what he could only think of as

dogs - both human and canine - she was a beacon in the

dark.

„And how is your patient today, doctor?‟

Doctor Njobe nodded slowly. „All right, I believe, Governor. I

cannot say that there has been any real improvement but she

has not deteriorated in any way either. That is probably a

good sign. Had I known I might be tending to Grutchas as

well as the prisoners, I might have done some research into

them, prepared myself for this. But, of course, the Prison

Service did not consider it worthwhile to alert me to such

things.‟

Tolland nodded, trying to look understanding. That was, of

course, the trouble with the bloody woman - just like

Maureen. They were always so quick to apportion blame, and

always to someone else.

Like Missy back on Sha - whenever one of those wallahs

buggered up their tasks, it was always the fault of the sun, or

the tools, or the timetable. Never her fault for not inspiring

them, not making them work harder. Oh, no.

„And are the women up to the task in front of them? Fit I

mean?‟

„Oh, absolutely, Governor. I have personally overseen their

fitness regime. On the whole they are at peak performance.

Only the young one, Grierson, worries me. I think she tries

too hard to be like the others, especially Lloyd. She‟s not as

old as them, and not quite as strong. She‟ll injure herself

before long.‟

Tolland nodded. But which one was Grierson? He‟d have to

look her up in his files later.

„Still, your job, Njobe, is to get her sorted out. Don‟t want

the little devil dying on us. Bad for morale, you know.‟

„Not to mention the profits of the Prison Service.‟

Tolland gave her a squinted look, searching for some

sarcasm; but no, Njobe seemed to be quite deliberate in her

words.

„Indeed, Doctor. Profits must always be at the forefront of

our minds, eh?‟

Njobe smiled. „Yes, Governor.‟

Tolland couldn‟t think what to say next. „Well, interesting

little job for the women, don‟t you think? Exploring this

famous legend or whatever it is.‟

„The legends of Ardethe are certainly of interest, Governor. I

am sure that the planet below will offer a wide variety of

challenges and secrets. Not to mention financial rewards

when we have finished.‟

„What? Oh, yes, absolutely.‟ He looked over at his fish,

desperate for something to do. To look busy. Why did Njobe

fluster him so? „I‟ve ordered Lloyd to lead them down there of

course. I‟m sure she can look after the others. Townsend with

her?‟

„Yes, I believe that she is, Governor.‟

Tolland found a loose thread poking out of a sleeve button

to stretch, twist and generally inspect. „Well, I‟m sure that a

good mystery will make their friendship blossom further.‟

When there was no response, Tolland glanced up and saw

Njobe frowning. He couldn‟t remember when he‟d last seen

her frown. If, in fact, he‟d ever seen her frown. Queer fish this

one, no doubt about that.

„Governor Tolland, may I speak freely?‟

„No, not really, but go on.‟

Njobe nodded, understanding that Tolland was only giving

her a small piece of leeway. „I believe that there is the

likelihood of trouble - those two do not exactly work well

together. In my opinion -‟

„You don‟t have opinions, Doctor, remember that. I have

opinions. I have excuses. I have reasons. You, on the other

hand, have duties. State your case and leave it at that.‟

„One of them is going to kill the other before long, Governor.

That is my professional judgment as a medical doctor, as

someone who sees them every day and as someone with a

passing interest in psychology.‟

„You know, Njobe, in my day, people like that were made to

work together.‟ Tolland moved to the fish tank, and bowed

down, staring into the water, watching Guppy and Matilda

swim about together, focusing on their beautiful movements,

their slow but steady gestures as they swam around the

enormous tank, weaving and ducking between coral, stones

and small plants. „People were forced to depend upon each

other the whole time until they got used to it. Until they

realized there‟s more to life than fighting every day. You get

my drift? I don‟t think there‟ll be a showdown. Gunfight at

the KayBee 2 Corral? But if there is, there will be hell to pay!

I don‟t have trouble in my little empires. They‟re all here for

the same reason: for causing that sort of aggression, violence

and suchlike. But that‟s no excuse to carry on now. In my

day, they‟d have all been picked up and had their heads

banged together.‟ He tapped the glass, attracting one of the

fish towards him. „D‟you like fish, Njobe? Tropical fish like

Guppy and Matilda? Here they are, away from their natural

environments but happy. Swimming about in there together.

Just the two of them. Just look at the way they stare around.

But do they fight? Two totally different breeds. Possibly even

natural enemies. But no fighting there. They don‟t try to kill

each other. Such grace, such charm. No nastiness at all.

Well, Njobe?‟

Njobe did not answer.

„Njobe?‟

Tolland stood up and turned around, but apart from him

and the two fish, the governor‟s office was empty.

Many hundreds of miles below the orbiting KayBee 2, deep

within the blue planet, was a building.

It was reached via a series of vast chambers linked by thin,

delicate walkways. Below each walkway was another

chamber, the bottom of which was too distant to be seen

without the most advanced visual enhancers.

At the bottom of One of those uncomprehendingly deep

chambers were the mashed and mutilated bodies of the

archaeological team and their support AMS crew, which

would decay to nothing long before anyone might ever find

them.

In the building that the walkways led to was the casket

that had been located and opened by Ensign Sax and

Bernard Harper.

Of them, there was no sign - it was as if they had never

been there. But remaining in the casket was the attractive

young man they had discovered, still lying comatose.

Attached to his temples were some threads of wiring, linked

into a strange helmet-like device at the very tip of the casket.

It looked as if the man‟s head should have been inserted into

the helmet, but whatever mechanism should do that had

failed. The wires were frayed and damaged – that they had

linked themselves to his head was a feat in itself.

And now something new was happening. As the ship above

lowered in its orbit, preparing to send down a shuttle with a

crew who were to search the planet, various circuits and

mechanisms within the chamber came to life. Hundreds of

tiny lights flashed in unison; a few monitor screens blinked,

rolled their images and then settled with a vision of static.

And then a holographic face appeared in midair, looking

down on the man identified by his tag as Chris Cwej.

As if brought back to life by the same energy as had

reanimated the chamber, Chris‟s eyes flickered beneath

closed eyelids, as if in heavy REM sleep. Then his eyes slowly

opened, and a tongue sneaked out of his mouth, trying to

moisten his lips.

He swallowed, frowned and then remembered to breathe

again.

„Alive. Good.‟

The holographic face lowered until it was just above Chris‟s

chest and he stared blankly at it. It was a beautiful woman‟s

face, red-painted lips, platinum-blonde hair, slightly wavy. It

winked at him.

„Who are you?‟ he stuttered hoarsely. „Where am I?‟

But the hologram made no response. It just winked again,

and puckered its lips, blowing him a kiss, followed by a huge

grin.

Chris took in his surroundings and pushed himself up,

barely noticing as the wires flopped from his temples. He saw

the tag on his belt and read it.

„And who the hell is Chris Cwej?‟

As he stood up, albeit a little shakily, he put his hand to

his head. „I... I don‟t remember... How did I get here? Where

am I? For that matter, who am I? Why can‟t I remember

anything?‟

He put a hand into the pocket of his trousers and felt a tiny

sphere. He brought it out - green, with a black button on top.

Maybe this would help him remember. It certainly felt

familiar.

He pressed the black button, but nothing happened. He

waited and pressed it again, but still nothing happened.

Then a shaft of thin light shot out of one of the distant

walls, striking Chris right between the shoulder blades. He

staggered and then fell to the floor, unconscious again.

The small green sphere rolled away into a corner, lost in

the shadows of a stone console.

„Sorry about that, Mr Cwej. Please bear with us while we

arrange for some new escorts to take you back to civilization.

And another couple of hosts for our greater plan.‟ And with a

final seductive wink at his motionless body, the hologram

vanished.

Seconds later, all the consoles, monitors and panels that

had lit up returned to darkness.

Waiting.

5

A FUN BUNCH OF GUYS FROM

OUTER SPACE

All he‘d done was ask what that flashing light meant! It was

hardly the crime of the century, but the way Jason reacted,

he might have been asking for a ninety-per-cent share in

profits.

‗Nothing!‘ Jason had screeched unexpectedly. ‗Everything is

just fine, all right? Stop asking stupid questions!‘

Emile had tried to sit as far back in his seat as he could

and not for the first time during their trip wished he was

back on Dellah playing poker with Professor S and trying to

track down the cute guy who delivered messages. Come to

think of it, that cute guy delivering the message about

Jason‘s arrival had been the start of all this. Maybe he‘d give

him a miss then, when he got back.

If he got back.

The trip had started badly when Mother Fist had suddenly

lurched on leaving Dellah‘s atmosphere, like an ancient

motor car backfiring. It looked so funny on the holovids he‘d

seen. Emile had asked what the problem was, only to have

his head metaphorically bitten off by Jason, who had pointed

at the seat belt, ordered Emile to strap his body down and

his mouth with it.

Until they entered hyperlight - at which point Emile had

just gasped at the sheer beauty of the elongated stars for a

few seconds. But, apart from that, he‘d kept his thoughts on

Jason‘s piloting to himself.

Except when Jason mentioned they were dropping out of

hyperlight, at which point the light had flashed, Emile had

pointed it out, and all hell had broken loose.

Emile‘s question had been answered by events rather than

by Jason. As they re-entered normal space (whatever that

meant, but it was the phrase Jason used - Emile began to

wonder whether Jason‘s phrases meant anything or were just

made up to sound impressive) the Mother Fist seemed to

almost crash into the largest spacecraft Emile had ever seen.

As he tried to pull the ship up and away, Jason‘s

vocabulary took on a more colourful quality, with a turn of

phrase that utilized some words that even Emile wouldn‘t

have considered putting into the same sentence.

‗I didn‘t expect anyone else to be out here,‘ he yelled. ‗I

mean, this area‘s supposed to be off limits.‘

‗Maybe they want to go to Ardethe as well,‘ volunteered

Emile.

‗Oh, of course, that would never have occurred to me.‘

Jason was wrestling with some strange kind of lever that

seemed to direct the ship.

‗Oh, pardon me,‘ Emile finally snapped. ‗What would you

like me to say then?‘

‗Preferably nothing,‘ Jason responded.

Emile had prepared to sulk at that point, except that a load

of controls in front of him burst into flames, sending bits of

glass, metal and plastic everywhere. Within seconds three

long metallic arm things dropped out the ceiling and pointed

at the fire. From one of them came a spluttering burst of

foam, but the other two did nothing.

Yelping, Jason whacked at one of them and a quick spurt

of foam came out of that.

‗Well, hit the other one then,‘ he shouted above the noise at

Emile.

Too terrified to do anything else, Emile gave the errant arm

a bit of a tap.

‗Hit the bugger, not ask it politely!‘

Emile smashed at it with his fist, whereupon it snapped in

two and fell to the floor, and an enormous, if brief, torrent of

foam poured from the severed junction at the ceiling, not just

putting the fire out, but covering most of Emile‘s legs.

‗Gee, thanks, Emile. That helped.‘

Emile had had enough. ‗For God‘s sake, you told me to hit

it, so I did. I didn‘t know this ship was falling apart!‘

‗It isn‘t falling apart!‘

‗It bloody is. Look at it!‘

At which point they hit the atmosphere of the blue planet

far too fast, were flung back into their seats by the sudden G-

forces, and all Jason did was scream ‗Shit! Shit! Shit!‘ half a

dozen times.

‗We‘re going to die‘ was Emile‘s best response, as he hoped

that Jason would say something heroic and then pull the

ship out of its dive and save them.

Instead Jason nodded his agreement. ‗Yup, I think we are.‘

This, of course, did not encourage Emile, who was trying

hard not to cry, while thinking that his life would have been

so much easier if he could have gone back home to his

father, and coped with the hard graft that had been his

normal existence.

He was not entirely sure at first if the cry from Jason was

from fear or jubilation, but it was clearly the latter as the

image of the expanse of rapidly approaching blue rock below

suddenly gave way to the sky. Convinced his stomach was

still on a rapid descent, and some way behind the ship, Emile

was nevertheless equally happy. Jason had clearly been

heroic and saved them.

‗Hold tight, ‗Meel, this could get difficult. I‘m trying to ride

the hot-air currents.‘

Emile didn‘t understand a word of it, but yelled what he

hoped was an encouraging ‗Great!‘

The ship actually seemed to bounce as if it was buffeting

against something soft but solid rather than just air.

Whatever it was, Emile was pleased to note that it slowed

them down.

‗Hang on, ‗Meel! We‘re going to land.‘

Which they did, somewhat bumpily, but in one piece.

Unfortunately, even once landed, they didn‘t actually stop

skidding across the blue rock until the Mother Fist smashed

into something else.

‗Ouch!‘

‗Oh my God!‘ Emile was unstrapping himself, staring

through the view hatch. ‗We‘ve hit another ship!‘

‗Bully for them.‘ Jason was unstrapping himself gingerly,

checking nothing was broken.

‗Jason!‘ Emile could not believe his new friend could be so

unconcerned. ‗We might have hurt someone.‘

Jason shook his head. ‗I‘m not expecting to find anyone

alive here.‘

‗Well, if you go round ramming Administration shuttles, I‘m

not surprised.‘ Emile was trying to open their exit. ‗Can I get

out, please.‘

‗Just checking the atmosphere, ‗Meel.‘ Satisfied that they

could breathe easily, Jason punched a button to release the

hatch. Nothing happened.

‗Should I shove harder?‘

‗Oh, ha-di-ha ha.‘ Jason hit the switch again. ‗Damn. The

crash must have blown out the controls. We‘ll have to get

some repairs done.‘ He shot a look at Emile. ‗Hey, ‗Meel, you

any good with a screwdriver?‘

Emile shrugged. ‗Don‘t see why not.‘ He had no idea what a

screwdriver was but assumed that it was some archaic device

that would be well suited to dismantling this bucket of rust.

Normal sonic tools or repair bots like the ones they had on

the relay station were probably way out of Jason‘s league.

Sometimes, Emile, you need to stop thinking with your

heart and use your head. Right now, you could be knocking

back one of those beer drinks with Tameka and helping

Toosa-eL win at poker. Instead, you‘re locked inside a stupid

spaceship with a man who has that typical ratio that dictates

that, the better the looks, the dimmer the brain.

Emile kicked the exit in frustration and it fell open,

unfortunately allowing the surprised lad to overbalance and

topple out on to the rock.

‗You all right?‘

Jason was staring down at him.

‗Yeah, fine.‘ Like Jason gave a damn. Oh well, at least he

could check no one was hurt in the Administration shuttle.

Emile hauled himself up and scrambled towards the

shuttle - the Mother Fist had hit the rear, so the open exit was

easily accessible. Jason yelled something, but Emile couldn‘t

be bothered to listen - he just ran in. And immediately

realized what had caused Jason‘s alarm.

The shuttle rocked violently. It must have been near the

edge of a cliff or something, and the shunt had pushed it

almost over the edge. His extra weight had unbalanced it. All

Emile could think to do was run to the rear and hope it

would stop shaking and rebalance itself.

Sure enough, the rocking stopped and Emile caught his

breath. There was no way he was going to get back out

without starting it again, so no point in doing anything in

panic.

He stared around the interior. Lots of seats, all empty. A

few opened cupboards, and a wrecked radio panel to the left.

He couldn‘t see the flight controls up front, but a pair of

unmoving legs were visible through the seats.

And, by looking straight up front, he could see the sky and

no land at all through the screens. Yup, he was indeed on the

edge of a cliff.

‗Emile?‘

‗Jason, I‘m OK.‘

‗Where are you?‘

‗Near the back. There‘s a dead body near the front.‘

‗Right. Well they‘re not going anywhere then. Can you get to

the exit?‘

Emile said he couldn‘t and asked about the drop.

‗Not very far,‘ Jason said, ‗but there‘s no point in taking

risks, all right?‘

‗About as much point as lying to me, Jason Kane!‘ Emile

took a deep breath. ‗How big a drop is it really?‘

‗OK, OK. About three, maybe four, miles. It‘s a crater of

some sort and if there‘s anything directly below... well if the

shuttle goes over, it‘ll crash into that.‘

‗So?‘

‗So, ‗Meel, you were the one concerned about survivors. If

there are any, they might be in there, not expecting their

bloody great shuttle to drop on their heads because some

arse decided to go exploring without using his brain first.

OK?‘

‗OK, already!‘

‗Right, listen. I‘m going to see if I can find anything to prop

under the front and stop it tipping forward. But listen

carefully.‘

‗I‘m listening.‘

‗If it does start to drop, you‘ve got no time to get out. You‘ll

not make the exit before it‘s gone over, so jumping out will

kill you. Don‘t do it, OK?‘

‗OK.‘

‗Promise?‘

‗Yes, I bloody well promise.‘

‗All right, then. What I do want you to do is grab the rear

seats tightly. These Administration things are actually quite

well constructed and the seats shouldn‘t detach themselves.‘

„Shouldn‟t? Oh, great. Go on.‘

‗Just hold on tight. The shuttle will, more than likely slide

down the side of the crater, so that‘ll hopefully slow the

descent a bit.‘

Jason was apparently about to add something else but it

was transformed into a very vicious curse which Emile didn‘t

recognize but guessed it meant something bad was

happening.

Sure enough, the shuttle lurched forward and Emile‘s

stomach leapt into his mouth. Emile himself rarely swore but

the expletive he uttered at that point was both

understandable and heartfelt.

He threw himself at the back of the seats, grabbing hold

tightly before he realized he was no longer alone. Jason was

holding on to another set of seats - he‘d either jumped in for

some reason, or fallen in.

Thirty seconds later, the shuttle stopped with an enormous

shudder, hurling them both against the ceiling and then on

to the right-angled floor, so they collapsed against the base of

the seating, breathing hard.

Emile looked across at Jason. ‗Wow.‘

Jason managed a smile. ‗Hey, dad, that was great. Can we

ride it again?‘ He hauled himself up and crawled towards the

now upright exit. ‗Well, let‘s hope no one was at home,

because I was right.‘

Shaking slightly, but relieved that Jason‘s idea (and

confidence) about the seats had been good, Emile followed

him out.

The shuttle had landed nose down amid a charred circle on

the ground. Jason had found a few bits and pieces but

nothing much.

‗That‘s a blaster discharge mark. Something was here and

someone wanted it got rid of.‘

Emile shrugged. ‗What about the guy in the shuttle?‘

‗I‘ll check.‘

That was fine as far as Emile was concerned. Dead men‘s

bodies weren‘t very high on his list of personal favourites. A

few moments later, Jason re-emerged.

‗OK, he was one Ensign Harries from the AMS Trigan. He

was killed by a sharp twist to the neck, some time back I

think. A couple of days at the least.‘

‗Not my fault then.‘ Emile was relieved.

‗No,‘ said Jason. ‗No, not our fault.‘ He looked at Emile and

smiled. ‗Remember, we‘re in this together, partner.‘ He looked

up to the top of the crater. ‗It‘s a long climb back up.‘

‗What‘s that, Jase?‘ Emile pointed at a tiny black speck in

the clear blue sky above. It was getting closer. ‗It looks like

another ship.‘

‗It is. Probably a shuttle from the one we nearly collided

with. And possibly coming to find us.‘

‗Do we want to be found?‘

‗Not really.‘ Jason sighed. ‗Typically Bernice bloody

Summerfield. She can‘t even get us stranded somewhere

nice.‘

‗You nicked her crystal, Jase. It‘s not Professor S‘s fault.‘

‗Everything that happens is ―Professor S‘s‖ fault when it

goes wrong. It‘s a universal constant I live by.‘ Jason took

something else from his pocket. It was a tiny green sphere,

about the size of a golfball, with a black stud on top. And it

was glowing internally, a slow rhythmic pulse.

Emile had never seen anything like it. ‗What‘s that?‘

Jason was frowning, as if he didn‘t quite know the answer.

‗A gift, from a friend of Benny‘s. It‘s a homing device, but I

can only think of a couple of people who have one other than

myself. I felt it activate in my pocket just now. I wonder why.‘

‗Maybe Benny‘s trying to contact you.‘

‗Nah, she‘d just shout and we‘d hear it from half a galaxy

away. Besides which, she‘d use this.‘ Jason tossed his

personal communicator over to Emile. ‗This is someone else.‘

He scanned the crater. ‗But why did it activate now?‘

‗Low range?‘

‗Shouldn‘t be. Should have quite a long range, to be frank.‘

Jason tapped the sphere and it stopped pulsating.

‗Maybe it‘s broken,‘ offered Emile.

Jason shrugged. ‗Maybe. I wonder

Emile realized he was not going to get anything more out of

Jason on the subject, so he concentrated on the approaching

craft. ‗It‘s getting bigger.‘

‗It‘s getting nearer, actually.‘

‗Yeah, I know that. I was being... oh, never mind. Should

we hide?‘

‗Where?‘

‗The shuttle.‘

‗So long as you can cope with Ensign Harries‘ corpse, that‘s

not a bad idea.‘

Emile shrugged. ‗Never snuggled up to a corpse. Try

anything once.‘

‗Yeah, I‘ll bet. C‘mon.‘

They hurried back into the shuttle and, trying to ignore

Harries‘ twisted and rather discoloured body, looked out

through the screens as the dark-grey flitter began its descent

into the crater.

‗Could they have picked up the same signal as your homing

device?‘ asked Emile.

Jason shrugged. ‗Dunno. Doubt it though. Quality

merchandise this. That‘s a scavenger flitter.‘

‗A what?‘

‗A scavenger. Full of prisoners doing their bit for society.

Most of them are probably long-termers to whom dangerous

work like this is better than just rotting away in prisons.‘

Jason nodded as the ship settled on the blue rock, about

sixty feet away from them. ‗I wonder what‘s here that the

Prison Service want.‘

‗Same as us?‘

‗Yeah. But we‘re here illegally and not supposed to be

around. They‘re here on ―official‖ business - but equally

ought not to be. AMS only, I would have thought, around

here.‘

‗Except that the Administration Military Ship‘s gone, this

shuttle has a dead man in it...‘

‗And someone blew up what was probably their camp. I can

see where your thoughts are going, ‗Meel.‘

Emile smiled. ‗Yeah. Someone, somewhere, is still alive.

And probably watching us.‘

‗And them.‘ Jason pointed at the group of green-clad

women slowly coming down a ramp from the rear of the

flitter.

‗So, do you think these prisoners could be hunting us?‘

‗Nah. Maybe as a sideline they‘ll be aware of us, but the

Prison Service won‘t waste time and resources looking for a

ship like mine. Ours.‘

Emile tried to shift and get more comfortable, but slipped

slightly, his foot landing on Harries‘ chest. And went a bit

further than it should, followed by a deeply offensive smell.

‗Oh, well done, ‗Meel.‘ Jason did not look down either. ‗I

really needed to know what his last lunch was.‘

‗I think I‘m going to faint. Or puke. Or both.‘

‗Do either, and I‘ll leave you here.‘

‗Jason! You wouldn‘t!‘

‗I‘ll think about it.‘

Lloyd stood at the base of the ramp, checked that there was

no one around other than her fellow prisoners, and then

activated the remote. The ramp slid silently back up into the

ship.

‗Wow. How nice. Do we stay here for life or go exploring?‘

Townsend stuffed her hands in her pockets.

Charley Connor was wandering around in a circle. ‗Cobalt,

I think.‘

‗What d‘you mean ―cobalt‖?‘

Connor pointed at the edges of the crater. ‗This isn‘t

natural, Marianne. And the land goes up at the top. Nothing

pushed this down: charges blew this crater into existence.

Cobalt by the look.‘

Jay Hallett stood beside her. ‗Yeah. You‘d need something

like that to get through this rock as well.‘

Townsend was furious. ‗Oh, great. Bloody cobalt bombs

and we‘re standing in the middle of it. The radiation is

probably killing us with each breath.‘

Connor dug a scanner out of her pocket. ‗Nah, it‘s like I

thought. This was done ages ago. No radiation here for a

good two hundred years.‘

Jeni Grierson shivered. ‗It‘s cold!‘

Townsend laughed. ‗Hey, Grierson, forgot to pack your

winter woollies?‘

Grierson shrugged. ‗I‘m sorry, Marianne. I didn‘t think to.‘

‗―I‘m sorry, I didn‘t think to.‖‘ Townsend and Hallett

laughed, until Connor pushed between them.

‗For Christ‘s sake, Mari, lay off the girl.‘

Townsend pushed back. ‗Don‘t you start, Charley. I‘ve

enough on my plate without you doing a Lloyd on me.‘

Lloyd came up behind Townsend and spoke directly into

her ear. ‗Oh, yes? And what exactly is ―a Lloyd‖?‘

Townsend just stared straight ahead, sneering slightly. ‗Did

you squeak?‘

Lloyd ignored her and indicated to Connor. ‗Charley, you

take Townsend and Hallett that way. Grierson and me‘ll head

forwards. Oh, and Townsend. Be a good girl guide and don‘t

get lost.‘

She passed some ration packs out. Hallett pointed at the

crashed AMS Trigan shuttle.

‗Should we pick that up?‘

Lloyd nodded. ‗Yeah, but later. No point in knackering

ourselves when we might need to save energy for something

bigger and further away. Plus the fact it could be a steep

climb.‘

‗We‘re going up there?‘

Lloyd had had enough. ‗For God‘s sake, Townsend, use

your brain. Apart from the shuttle, there‘s bugger all else in

this crater. Where d‘you suggest we look?‘

‗Well, why didn‘t you land the flitter up top, Jay?‘

Hallett stepped back. ‗All right, don‘t blame me. BABE

preprogrammed our route, OK? I just press the crukking

buttons.‘

‗So, if we‘re all finished moaning?‘

Connor nodded. ‗OK, how long, Siobhan?‘

‗Alexander the Great wants a swift lift-off. Eastwards,

Charley. Back here in a hundred and twenty.‘

‗You‘re the boss.‘

‗And your wish is our command,‘ added Hallett tritely.

Lloyd glanced towards the downed Administration shuttle.

‗Come on, Jeni, let‘s take a look.‘

As the two of them wandered away Townsend stared at

them. ‗You two make me sick. ―Oh yes, Lloyd‖, ―Oh no,

Lloyd‖, ―Oh three bloody bags full, Lloyd‖. You‘d follow her to

the ends of the Earth wouldn‘t you?‘

But Hallett and Connor had already wandered off, too

familiar with Townsend‘s griping for it to have any meaning

or relevance. They had jobs to do.

‗Damn. Two of them are coming towards us. I wonder if I

could pick ‗em off without the other three seeing.‘

‗Jason!‘ Emile couldn‘t believe Jason Kane could be so

savage. ‗My God! You can‘t just kill them!‘

Jason just shrugged. ‗―Can‘t‖ or ―mustn‘t‖?‘

‗―Mustn‘t‖!‘

‗Well, I can‘t anyway. My blaster‘s back in the Mother Fist,

which, thanks to you, is two or three miles above us.‘

‗I wondered how long it would take before I got the blame

for that.‘

Jason smiled. ‗Oh, I‘ve been blaming you for ages. Just

didn‘t say anything until now.‘

‗Oh, thanks.‘ Emile stepped back slightly. ‗Next time you

want me to save your life, just remind me of that, and I won‘t

bother.‘

Jason stopped watching the women and looked instead into

Emile‘s chubby face, as if thinking back to their initial

meeting on the planet of the Sunless, a few months before.

‗Did I ever say thank you?‘

Emile shrugged. ‗No. But it doesn‘t matter. That was then.‘

Jason shook his head. ‗No, you‘re wrong. It does matter. I

would have died if not for you. You were willing to sacrifice

your life for mine. Yet you didn‘t even know me.‘

‗You are - were — Benny‘s husband. She loves you. You

contributed something to her life. All I did was get in

everyone‘s way and piss off my dad a lot. Seemed a good idea

at the time.‘

Jason shrugged. ‗Yeah, right. Like you thought all that at

the time.‘

‗No. But I thought about it afterwards. And when Professor

S asked me. At the time, I just thought it was the easiest way

to stop them killing you. The fact it might have killed me

didn‘t really cross my mind. I‘m not that selfless really.‘

Jason smiled suddenly. ‗Well, thank you ‗Meel. But you‘re

still a right pain in the arse now.‘

‗Always do what you‘re best at, Jason. That‘s my new

motto.‘ Emile nodded back outside. ‗Now, what are they up

to?‘

The two approaching women had stopped and were

examining something on the ground. One of them, the one

who had been barking orders earlier, knelt down and started

pulling on something. Jason and Emile tried not to react

when she suddenly fell on to her bum as whatever she was

tugging finally gave way.

‗It‘s a hatchway.‘ Jason pulled himself up an inch further,

getting dangerously close to being in view. ‗There‘s something

beneath this crater.‘

‗I‘m hungry‘ was Emile‘s instant and rather heartfelt

response.

Jason ignored him. ‗We need to go down there.‘

‗If I don‘t eat something soon, I‘ll faint. Then you‘ll have to

carry me.‘

Jason gave Emile a look which clearly indicated that it was

far more likely he‘d just leave him where he dropped.

Emile opted to ignore the rumblings from his tummy.

‗Actually, Jase, I‘m not that hungry.‘

‗Good. I want to get down under the surface.‘

‗Why?‘

Jason held up the small pulsating green globe. ‗Because it

started glowing brighter when that hatchway was opened.‘

Emile pointed. ‗Look. They‘re off - going to get the others

presumably. Shall we go now?‘

Jason nodded. ‗In a few seconds.‘ He looked back at Emile.

‗How fast can you run?‘

‗Fast enough. I‘ve had practice.‘

Jason nodded. ‗As you‘ve been hanging around with my ex,

I can believe it.‘

There were times when Emile Mars-Smith could open his

mouth and say the most appalling things without realizing he

had done so. There were other times, luckily far fewer, when

he could open his mouth and say the most appalling things

and do it knowingly. And then there were the rare times

when he just spoke the first, wholly inappropriate thing that

came into his mind and actually knew before he spoke he

would regret it.

This was one of those.

‗Why did you split up? I mean, you obviously both still love

each other and everything. It seems so stupid. She‘s fab,

you‘re cool, together you‘re just -‘

And Emile saw in Jason‘s eyes an amount of pain, hurt and

sadness that was probably always there but rarely so brutally

uncovered.

So he shut up and found something more interesting to do.

While Jason, without speaking, slipped out of the shuttle and

began walking towards the now vacated hatchway.

Lloyd and Grierson were walking back to their shuttle, to

await the return of the other three. Lloyd was shaking her

head as she again surveyed the crater. There was something

very strange going on on Ardethe. That hatchway had opened

too easily, and why was that crashed Administration shuttle

the only sign that anyone else had been here when there

ought to have been more indications of the missing

archaeologists. Still, they were missing...

Grierson tapped her on the shoulder. ‗Siobhan, could a

cobalt bomb really do this?‘

Lloyd shook her head. ‗I doubt it. Maybe a ship packed with

them. But even so. A crater like this... Anyway it doesn‘t

really matter how it happened. It just did. Let‘s see if the

pickings are rich.‘

Grierson shielded her eyes from the sun, trying to see if the

others were near the ship.

‗Siobhan? If it was a ship, do you think anyone was on it?‘

Lloyd turned three hundred and sixty degrees, trying to

spot the others. ‗Not unless they were suicidal to the point of

extravagance.‘

‗What?‘

Lloyd shrugged. ‗Well, why kill yourself in an explosion as

spectacular as this when a space walk is just as efficient?‘

Grierson shuddered at the thought. ‗That‘s horrible.‘

‗Bombs tend to be, Jeni. Didn‘t they have them on your

planet?‘

Grierson thought about this. ‗I think so. But they weren‘t

used much.‘

‗Nice place,‘ the older woman laughed. Grierson‘s innocence

- although Townsend would say it was naivety – was rather

sweet and attractive amid the sour and petty bitchings of the

other women. She just hoped Grierson could survive the

bleakness of this ‗career‘ to grow and mature into the woman

she deserved to become. ‗Remind me to visit when we‘re

paroled.‘

Grierson immediately latched on to this, tugging at Lloyd‘s

sleeve. ‗You really think we‘ll get parole?‘

Lloyd knelt down and began scraping at some of the blue

rock, trying to work out what it was made of. It was very

strange. Almost as if it were... No, that was daft. Oh, where

was Connor when she was needed? She was the scientific one

among them. ‗I hope so. Three months with Tolland and

Townsend is worse than a life sentence, I can assure you.‘

After a few moments, Grierson asked, ‗Are you a lifer,

then?‘

Lloyd continued scratching at the rocks, ignoring the girl.

Grierson eventually asked again.

‗I‘ve told you before, Jeni. I‘d rather not discuss it.‘

‗Sorry.‘ Grierson sat beside her. ‗I don‘t think we‘re going to

find any metal up here. Maybe down through that hatchway

thing, though?‘

‗You might be right.‘ Lloyd stood up, blowing blue dust off

her fingers. ‗I wonder how Townsend‘s doing.‘

‗I wish I understood why you hate her so much. I mean,

you are from the same colony. That‘s rare on these ships,

isn‘t it? Central told me I wouldn‘t be with anyone else from

Oriola 6. I wish I was.‘

Lloyd laughed, humourlessly. ‗Gee, thanks! My company

not good enough for you then?‘

Grierson was immediately defensive, again not seeing the

subtleties of Lloyd‘s cynicism. Yeah, sometimes Grierson‘s

inexperience of life could be a bit of a burden as well.

‗Oh, you know what I mean,‘ Grierson replied. ‗You‘ve been

wonderful. You‘ve looked after me better than my own mother

ever did. But it‘s not the same. Sometimes I lie awake at

night listening to Charlene, lay and Marianne laughing —‘

‗Or rowing with me!‘

‗And I think I‘m really homesick. I mean, there‘s not much

there but it is still home. I want to go back. It‘s just not fair. I

shouldn‘t be here.‘

Lloyd had heard this before from so many others back at

Kamp Konkordia. But there was something about Jeni

Grierson, that odd little spark that had drawn Lloyd to her.

Her conviction, her earnest belief that she genuinely was

innocent.

‗Yeah, well, we all say that. But telling the truth in

Administration courts these days is of little importance to

them.‘ Lloyd began to continue towards their shuttle.

‗Siobhan? Why are you here?‘

Lloyd was suddenly angry - the blue haze of the planet gave

way, momentarily, to a flash of red. ‗I don‘t want -‘ Then she

sighed. If Grierson didn‘t get some kind of answer after all

these weeks, she‘d have this for the rest of their time aboard

the scavenger ship. ‗Ah, you wouldn‘t understand. My crime

is, if you like, one of the mind. It needn‘t worry you. Only a

colony like Kastor Major would consider it a crime.‘

‗I‘m sorry. I didn‘t mean to pry.‘

If anyone else had said that, Lloyd would have scoffed. But

Grierson probably didn‘t even understand that she was

prying. One day, she‘d have to explain, preferably before

Townsend blurted it out. But how would an innocent like

Grierson react? Understanding? Unlikely. Shock? Probably.

Horror and then run away? Fear for her life? Yeah, that was

quite likely. And Lloyd would lose her. Like she‘d lost... like

she‘d lost Joolz. After eight years.

Lloyd carried on walking, not catching Grierson‘s eye. ‗We

ought to find Charley and the others before it gets too dark.

Have to report our failure to Alexander the Great.‘

A voice came across the crater from their left.

‗Lloyd? What are you doing? Anything interesting?‘ It was

Townsend, who had Connor and Hallett with her as they, too,

headed towards the shuttle.

‗Hell, we‘ve been having a party. Any other stupid

questions?‘

They grouped together. Connor grabbed Lloyd‘s hands,

looking at the blue dust particles. ‗Find anything?‘

‗Yeah, a thousand blocks of platinum just standing around

with a ―please scavenge me‖ sign on them. Does it look like

it?‘

Connor shrugged. ‗I only asked.‘

‗Yeah, sorry Charley. This place scares the crap out of me,

but hell knows why.‘

Townsend shivered. ‗Bloody typical! Planet‘s got no metal.

Got nothing but miles of bloody blue rocks and wind. And it‘s

starting to get colder.‘

Connor looked at her scanner. ‗Marianne‘s right, Siobhan.

That‘s quite odd really.‘

Hallett shivered as well. ‗Charley, according to you

everything we‘ve seen for the last half-hour has been odd.

What now?‘

Charley Connor tapped her scanner. ‗Marianne said it‘s

cold. It is. Yet it‘s daylight. Deserts of rock tend to get cold

only at night - especially when there‘s only one sun like here.‘

Lloyd pointed to the edges of the crater. ‗Maybe the cobalt

bombs screwed up the atmosphere or something.‘

Townsend rubbed her arms again. ‗Oh, who cares? Let‘s get

back to the ship and see whether Tolland has got any more

daft ideas.‘

But Connor wasn‘t listening, tapping on her scanner again.

‗If it was cobalt that caused this crater, there‘s little trace of

how or why.‘

Grierson, who had sat near the base of the ship, looked up

at them. ‗Siobhan thinks it might have been a whole ship

packed with cobalt bombs that crashed here.‘

‗Oh, Lloyd‘s taking your job, Charley. Chief Scientific

Brainbox.‘ Townsend laughed. So Hallett laughed as well.

Connor just sighed.

‗At least I‘m thinking, then talking, and not vice versa.‘

Lloyd sat beside Grierson.

Townsend nudged Hallett. ‗Oh, and I thought she had little

Miss Innocent there do all her talking.‘

Connor was examining information on her scanner.

‗Siobhan. Look at this.‘

Lloyd was up and beside her. The dust was not registering

on any recognized geological information banks.

‗This is an Earth-type planet, right? I mean we can breathe

here easily, gravity‘s normal, everything‘s fine, if a bit cold. So

why aren‘t the planet‘s minerals showing up as recognizable

elements?‘ Connor frowned. ‗Siobhan, do you feel OK?‘

Lloyd nodded. ‗Fine. Why?‘

‗Just wanted to check that this dust isn‘t toxic.‘

Townsend perked up instantly. ‗Toxic? Oh, great, and we‘ve

been kicking around in it for ages.‘

‗Oh, shut up, Townsend,‘ snapped Lloyd. ‗No, it isn‘t

poisonous. I feel fine.‘

‗For now,‘ Hallett muttered.

Lloyd shot a look towards Grierson, who was staring at her

own hands and boots, trying to spot if any lethal dust was

soaking into her pores and killing her.

‗Oh, for Christ‘s sake! The dust is not killing us, OK?‘ Lloyd

glared at Connor and whispered, ‗Thanks for that additional

concern, Charley. We really needed that.‘

Connor shrugged. ‗Still doesn‘t explain why -‘ She quickly

looked hard at Lloyd. ‗I need to get back to the KayBee 2,

Siobhan. Dr Njobe‘s equipment‘s better than this portable

stuff.‘

‗What have you worked out, Charley?‘

Connor shook her head. ‗A good scientist doesn‘t offer

guesses. Only facts.‘

‗Unless, of course, it‘s suggestions that we‘ve all been

poisoned.‘

Connor smiled. ‗Nah, that was just my idea of a joke.‘

‗Great. Like, thanks. I wanted that kind of joke today.‘

Lloyd clapped her hands. ‗OK, guys, there is something we

found.‘ She told the other three about the discovery of the

hatchway.

Connor nodded. ‗Well, I guess we go down. This dust can

wait. It‘s not going anywhere after all.‘

Townsend was, as Lloyd had anticipated, cautious. Hallett

just agreed with whoever shouted loudest.

‗It might be dangerous,‘ Townsend offered.

‗If you want to go back to Tolland and tell him we found

something but were too frightened to investigate, there‘s the

shuttle. I don‘t fancy having Cassius spacing us, though.‘

‗Will we need some cutting equipment?‘ Hallett began to

head into the shuttle.

‗No, I opened it,‘ Lloyd said.

‗How easily?‘ Townsend was still apprehensive.

‗It wasn‘t that easy but —‘

‗But easy enough,‘ finished Connor. ‗A trap?‘

‗Could be.‘

Hallett was confused. ‗Why? Who‘s the trap for?‘

‗Us?‘

Townsend snorted. ‗And I thought I was the paranoid one!

Honestly, Charley, why would anyone set a trap for us?‘

Lloyd interrupted. ‗Maybe not us exactly. But for someone.‘

Grierson stood up. ‗What I don‘t understand is why there‘s

a hatch in the middle of this rock.‘

Lloyd snapped her fingers. ‗I wonder if there was a building

of some sort here and the bombs razed it?‘

Townsend looked in the direction that Lloyd and Grierson

had walked, trying to spot the hatch. All that could be seen

was the dark blob on the bottom of the crater‘s side that was

the Administration shuttle. ‗What‘s your hatch for then?

Sewage?‘

‗Possibly.‘ Lloyd began chivvying them along. ‗We need to

get there and look at it. Charley, can your scanner tell us

whether there are metals below?‘

‗Yep,‘ said Connor.

‗Right, let‘s go.‘

They headed back to the hatchway, Townsend whingeing

about the danger and Hallett backing her up - of course.

Lloyd and Connor were swapping notes while Grierson just

walked behind them, occasionally trying to wipe the rock

dust off her hands in case it was poison after all. Within

fifteen minutes they had reached their target.

Hallett produced a bottle of water from her backpack,

offering it around. Each woman in turn took a swig, although

Townsend took more than her fair share. No one bothered

complaining - they expected her to anyway.

Lloyd was on the ground, her arm dipping into the

darkness. ‗There‘s some sort of ladder thing. Under here.‘

‗Strong enough to take our weight?‘ Townsend asked.

Lloyd wasn‘t sure. ‗Townsend! Your boot, quickly!‘

‗Use your own.‘

‗Here‘s mine.‘ Grierson passed a boot over.

‗Thanks.‘ Lloyd whacked the rungs of the ladder hard.

‗Seems strong enough.‘

Grierson sniffed. ‗It smells. What is it?‘

‗By the Goddess!‘ That was Townsend. ‗I hate to say it but,

awful as it is, I recognize the smell. Decay. Rotting

something.‘

‗It‘s dreadful,‘ agreed Hallett, not wanting to be left out.

Lloyd sniffed a bit, then breathed deeply. ‗Right. Now we‘re

over that, who‘s for a trip down?‘ She looked expectantly at

the group. She knew Grierson would go with her, and

Charley Connor certainly - her curiosity was always getting

the better of her. Probably what got her locked up in the first

place. Hallett would follow whatever lead Townsend made.

‗Lady, are you mad?‘

‗Need I remind you, Townsend, we‘re here to work? Like it

or not. This lid and this ladder are metallic. It might lead to

more metal. In turn, that might lead to parole.‘ Lloyd pointed

downward. ‗Shall we scavenge our way to freedom?‘

Townsend folded her arms, looking first at Hallett, then

Connor and Grierson and finally, with a sneer, back to the

hatchway.

‗Who are you trying to fool, Lloyd? Me, the kid or yourself?‘

Lloyd threw Grierson‘s boot back to the young woman, who

slipped it back on. ‗Let‘s go.‘

Townsend bent down as Lloyd lowered herself into the

darkness, so their faces were level. ‗No way! I‘ve had it with

your orders! You‘ve no right to make us go down there! It

might be dangerous - the smell ought to tell you that.

Suppose whatever died down there is diseased. We‘d walk

right into it. We could die as well.‘

Lloyd nodded. ‗Fair enough. But I can‘t wait to tell Ghoti

and DeJoine when we get back. They like a good laugh.‘

Townsend licked her lips, then slowly stood up. ‗Blackmail,

is it?‘

‗Yeah,‘ said Lloyd. ‗And you‘re so bloody hard you‘ll

succumb. Now, everyone follow me.‘

‗Oxygen masks!‘ Connor backed away. ‗I‘ll go get some. It‘ll

help us filter out the smell, even if we don‘t need ‗em.‘

Lloyd sighed - she was anxious to get exploring so she

could make a report to Tolland. He was probably shouting at

his fish by now. Nevertheless Connor was probably right:

oxygen masks would be a good precaution.

She leant on the side of the hatchway while the others sat

on the blue rock, Grierson nervously trying not to get any

dust on her skin.

Sometimes that girl could be too neurotic for her own good.

* * *

‗Now what!‘

Jason thumped the side of the console at the front of the

crashed shuttle. He and Emile had been about to go down

the hatchway when Emile had seen the women start to come

towards them. The two men had darted back to the shuttle

as fast as they could, praying they had not been spotted.

Their luck had held so far but instead of going down, the

five women were just nattering.

‗It‘s a universal constant, ‗Meel, that if three or more

women gather in one spot, gossip will occur. A bloody great

meteor could be about to land on their heads, and still they‘d

discuss the weather, the soap powders they used and the

latest in fashionable G-strings!‘

Emile opted not to reply - partly because he found Jason‘s

flashes of sexism annoying, but mostly because he had never

quite worked out what a G-string was for.

Instead he decided he would show how much better he was

than Jason and practise the art of patience.

In his office aboard the KayBee 2, Oliver Tolland was

impatiently waiting for some report from Lloyd and the

others. He had rearranged his paperwork a few times, played

virtual solitaire, reread Njobe‘s report on Brutus‘s condition

at least twice, and his final option had been to talk to his fish

again. That relieved stress and boredom. He knew that

because he‘d read it in a colonial management book once.

‗Hello, Guppy. How are you then?‘ He blew a kiss to the fish

but for once they swam on, unaware of his presence.

‗Computer? How long until we meet up with the supply ship?‘

BABE‘s features, still as Marilyn Monroe, wobbled into his

line of vision, just above the fish tank.

‗Fourteen days, Governor Tolland.‘

‗Oh. Well, any ideas on what we‘re picking up next? More

prisoners? More scavenger jobs?‘

‗Their last message indicated routine inspections and new

cutting equipment. Our current materials are low on

efficiency.‘

‗You mean the cutters or the prisoners?‘ he laughed.

‗Is that a joke, Governor Tolland?‘

Tolland was about to treat the question with the contempt

he felt it deserved, but changed his mind. ‗Never mind.‘ He

pointed at the fish tank. ‗Do you like fish, computer?‘

Although BABE‘s virtual features could not be programmed

to actually have a look of impassive disinterest, it came very

close at that moment as far as Tolland was concerned.

‗Do you really require an answer, Governor Tolland?‘

‗No.‘ He sighed and headed back to sit behind his desk,

shuffling a few more papers for the tenth time. ‗This is

boring. At least in my day we had wretched natives to talk to

and chivvy about. Now what have I got? Ruddy backchatting

lump of wires and circuits that can‘t even pretend to be

vaguely civil! Doesn‘t care much for Guppy or Matilda, either.

Ruddy machine! Didn‘t get to be governor just by working

with machines, you know. It was back-breaking hard work!‘

He looked up to give BABE a piece of his mind, but the face

had vanished. Without permission!

Bloody place was going to the dogs, eh? Which reminded

him: time for a chat with Cassius, boost his spirits and all

that. Just because Brutus was ill, well, wasn‘t right for the

other one to get depressed and broody. If the prisoners saw

that, by jove, they‘d get out of control. And he might have to

space one. Set an example and all that.

Which would, at least, alleviate this dreadful boredom!

„Hi, this is DNN, bringing you all the Dellah news from the

planet and beyond. I‟m Jake Garrett.

„Admin-Proctor Lucinda Vrana has won a landslide victory in

the Administration elections, emerging with a thirty-eight-per-

cent lead over her nearest rivals. Following the successful

resolution of the crisis on Solaados, the Admin-Proctor was

very positive about the future of the sector‟s Administration.‟

„“I am feeling very positive about the future of the

Administration in this sector of the galaxy.”

„Other news in today concerns discoveries made by scholars

and scientists troubled by the recent loss of the expedition to

the legendary planet of Ardethe and the discovery of a

previously unknown tenth planet in the rim system. Could this

new planet be the one where the AMS Trigan made its tragic

landing instead of Ardethe? And how does a whole new planet

just appear where previously there wasn‟t one? We asked

Professor Zooss of the Krytell Science Foundation for his

theories on this bizarre phenomenon.

„“This is a very bizarre phenomenon you have asked for my

theories on. You see, planets do not just appear like this -

either hundreds of years of astronomers and cartographers

have been in error, which is to say the least unlikely, or the

planet has always been there but invisible. This would

suggest that someone or something deliberately hid the planet

from our view and only now has opted to let the rest of the

universe see it. Bear in mind the outer rims are vastly

unexplored. The Trigan was, I believe, the first ship to make

the journey in many years and, if the old stories are true,

many previous expeditions have resulted in the inexplicable

loss of said expeditions. I have never believed in myths or

legends but I do find it possible that if there is some

intelligence overseeing this new planet, now the fourth in the

system, maybe they have decided to make their presence felt.”

„Professor Pul Zooss of the Krytell Science Foundation this

morning.

„Of course, it could just be a planet on an elliptical orbit

according to our science team, but, hey, who are we to argue

with the experts?

„This has been DNN, bringing you all the Dellah news from

the planet and beyond. I‟m Jake Garrett.‟

Ryne was flicking through the channels on the broadcast

monitor, trying to ignore a channel devoted to the latest

hyperdrive facilities available to every kind of ship except the

KayBee 2. He flicked again as Jake Garrett‘s perpetually

annoying smile blurred into a weather report delivered by a

pouting girl in nothing but a small pair of red panties, and

who had delicious auburn hair and very large breasts. Ryne

wondered when he would ever get to the girl of his dreams.

Blummer meanwhile was checking a couple of things via a

pad with the pilot. Or at least, the pilot‘s cybernetic

subconscious.

‗Doesn‘t say much, does he?‘ Blummer said pointlessly.

‗Smokey likes him.‘

‗Smokey likes anyone.‘

‗Not true. Didn‘t like that little Pakhar customs guy on that

stupid tollport.‘

‗That,‘ Blummer said slowly, as if Ryne were a total

imbecile, ‗was because Pakhars look like large hamsters.

Smokey is quite partial to hamsters, but our Pakhar official

did not like the way Smokey looked at him.‘

Ryne shrugged. ‗Fairdos.‘

Blummer sat back at the dinner table. ‗OK, so tiddly-winks

is out. How about a game of cards?‘

‗Yeah. Happy Families?‘

Blummer coughed. ‗Ah. Just remembered. We can‘t.‘

‗Why not?‘ Ryne was immediately suspicious.

‗Some of the cards are missing.‘

Ryne slowly put his magazine down, folded his hands

across his lap and took a deep breath. ‗When, Blummer? My

old mam gave me that set. Her farewell present when I left

the colony to join the service. What have you gone and done

with ‗em?‘

Blummer smiled at him insincerely. ‗Well, remember that

big orange lady from Cantrya?‘ Ryne nodded slowly, fearing

what was coming. ‗Well,‘ Blummer continued, munching,

‗you remember she sort of fell for me…‘

‗I thought it was the other way around, actually.‘

Blummer shrugged. ‗Whatever. Anyway, she said she

wanted something to remember me by.‘

‗Yeah, and so you told me you were going to give her your

big purple egg timer.‘

‗Ah, yeah, well, Cantryans don‘t like eggs, apparently. So I

offered her my heart. Well, the King, Queen, Knave and Ace

of Hearts to be precise. A sort of... joke, really

Ryne sighed. ‗Well, let‘s play Happy Families without the

Hearts then.‘

Blummer stopped eating. ‗Well, I meant to tell you this,

Ryne lad. Honest I did. But you see -‘

‗No.‘ Ryne held up his hands. ‗No, I don‘t want to know. I

just don‘t know what I‘m going to tell my old mam next

month.‘

Blummer frowned. ‗Ryne, lad?‘

‗Yeah?‘

‗Ryne, lad, your old mam died last summer when her

aerosled ran out of gas on the snowscapes of Frijor III.‘

‗So? I can still write to her, can‘t I? ―Don‘t forget to write

every month.‖ That was the last thing she ever said to me.‘

Blummer nodded. ‗Oh. I thought the last thing she ever

said to you was ―Here, have a pack of cards for the trip, son.‖‘

Ryne ignored him. ‗Anyway, I still write to her. And it‘s a lot

cheaper than flowers for her grave.‘

‗That‘s not entirely surprising, lad. She hasn‘t got a grave.

They couldn‘t find enough of her to sweep up to fill a

matchbox.‘

‗Exactly. That‘s why I write. Because there isn‘t a grave to

send flowers to.‘ Ryne stood up and headed back to the

flashing lights that weren‘t flashing. ‗Now, you go and annoy

the cat or something. I‘ve got work to do.‘

Aware that he was likely to be the centre of Blummer‘s

attention, Smokey the cat hurried to the door and vanished.

The corridors around the command module were dark, with

loads of small holes and ventilation-shaft entrances which

didn‘t close properly. Smokey made quite a habit of exploring

those, imagining he was tracking down the Mutant Mice of

Mogar, ready to destroy them on behalf of his human

masters.

Truth was, since losing his left eye, Smokey wasn‘t that

good at catching anything, mouse or otherwise. Instead, he

spent his days sleeping, shedding hair and strolling around

the dark recesses of the ship, hoping to find something

interesting to do.

The life of a space cat with a red eye patch definitely had its

dull moments. But there are times when, as tends to happen

with cats, their hair begins to prickle and stand on end and

their keen senses tell them that something odd is going to

happen. Not necessarily dangerous, but definitely out of the

ordinary.

As Smokey patrolled his regular haunts, daydreaming

about Mutant Mice, his fur began to rise, his ears flattened

slightly and his nose twitched. Smokey didn‘t know what was

going to happen, but he knew something was and staying

inside his human-free corridors and ventilator shafts was

probably the safest thing to do.

Emile found Jason just outside the crashed shuttle. They

had watched the women go down the hatchway and Jason

had immediately gone outside, telling Emile to stay put. After

three minutes, his curiosity (and his inability not to fidget)

got the better of Emile and he emerged from the shuttle and

walked slap into Jason.

‗Jase?‘

Jason was staring at the little pulsating green globe. ‗‗Meel,

I think the signal is coming from down there.‘

‗One of those women?‘

Jason shook his head. ‗They‘ve had a good head start. Now

we ought to follow.‘

Oh my God, thought Emile. Here we go. He touched

Jason‘s shoulder. ‗Are you sure it‘s safe?‘

Jason appeared to consider this for a moment, then

shrugged. ‗No, I doubt it‘s safe. You stay here and see if you

can get the ship up and running.‘

‗Up your arse, Kane!‘ Emile stood up to his full five-foot-

not-very-much-more and realized he just about came up to

Jason‘s Adam‘s apple. ‗I‘m coming with you. You need

someone to watch your back, because I can‘t fly us out of

here.‘ Emile chose to ignore the fact that the Administration

shuttle was wrecked and their own Mother Fist wasn‘t in

much better shape. With or without Jason, getting off

Ardethe, or wherever they were, was going to be their biggest

problem.

Jason put a hand on Emile‘s shoulder. ‗C‘mon then,

faithful companion. Let us venture unto the jaws of death.‘

Emile swallowed hard and followed Jason out towards the

hole in the ground.

Deep below, Jay Hallett was the last down the ladder and so

last to tread into the already mushy pile of something at the

bottom. Whatever it was, it stank, and the previous women‘s

feet had already made it resemble crushed grapes at a

vineyard.

‗Goddess, what the hell is this?‘ she moaned.

‗A body,‘ muttered Charley Connor. ‗Dead a few days only.‘

‗It stinks.‘

‗Oh, I hadn‘t noticed that. So it does.‘

Hallett sighed and followed Connor into a large metallic

tunnel where she could see the others, just, silhouetted by a

faint orange glow.

‗It‘s dark.‘

‗Hadn‘t noticed that either,‘ snapped Connor. ‗Jay, if saying

anything useful is difficult, just shut up for now.‘

They hurried after the others and carried on through a

doorway and into a huge chamber lined with metal pipes and

strange carvings.

‗Metal. At least that‘s something,‘ muttered Connor, before

going through an opposite doorway where she and Hallett

found themselves on a thin bridge over what seemed to be a

vast bottomless pit. The walls around them, going straight up

and down, were marked with ornate carvings, scoured out of

the natural blue rock. The lighting was far better here, good

enough to see that Lloyd, Townsend and Grierson were

crouching over a variety of dead bodies.

Townsend of course was complaining, as if the people had

died there simply to inconvenience her. ‗It stinks like hell. If I

pass any more corpses, I‘ll scream.‘

Lloyd gently rolled a corpse over and Hallett and Connor

had caught up enough to notice that some decomposing

innards were oozing on to her hands. ‗Odd, that.‘

Townsend laughed coldly. ‗You been talking to Charley?‘

Lloyd poked around a bit. ‗If you were looking, Townsend,

you‘d have seen evidence of how these people died. A hell of a

lot of damage to the bodies.‘

‗Oh, very astute, Miss Einstein. Bearing in mind most of

the flesh has rotted into gunge, how do you reach that

conclusion?‘

‗The areas of the body that are decaying quicker are all vital

areas. These people were shot, deliberately and carefully to

kill them efficiently. We‘re not talking a casual gun battle

here: we‘re talking deliberate murder. Look, we‘ve seen dead

men and women -‘

Grierson was hovering near another body. ‗And children.‘

Connor was looking. ‗Well, students. The missing

archaeologists, Siobhan?‘

Lloyd shrugged. ‗Could be. This lot are wearing AMS

uniforms. I don‘t think they shot each other. They were shot

from that side of the bridge, from the way they - and we -

came. Someone in their own party at a guess. Someone

trained to shoot these particular areas of the body for

maximum damage.‘

Townsend coughed. ‗Amazing what a medical degree can do

for you.‘

Grierson looked over at Lloyd. ‗I didn‘t know you were a

doctor, Siobhan.‘

‗There‘s a lot more I could tell you, Jeni, about leader

Lloyd.‘ Townsend smiled. ‗With lots of gruesome details.‘

Grierson surprised Hallett with the strength in her reply. ‗I

don‘t think Siobhan would want you to tell me, thank you,

Marianne.‘

Townsend took a step back in surprise. ‗Oh, my goodness!

It walks, it talks, it obeys without question. Just your type,

Lloyd.‘

Lloyd‘s voice was quiet, with something in it that Hallett

hadn‘t heard before. ‗Sorry, Townsend?‘

There was a pause, then Townsend shrugged and looked at

the dead people scattered across the bridge. ‗Nothing, Lloyd.‘

Lloyd stood suddenly and stretched. ‗As I was saying -‘

Townsend was immediately back on form. ‗We get the

message,

Lloyd.

You

know

your

medicine,

your

Administration blasters and how to kill people efficiently.

Does any of that help us find any metal?‘

‗Oh, just keep exercising your jaw, Townsend. Don‘t try to

think any of this through.‘

Townsend bristled. ‗Look, I‘ve had just about enough of you

and your superior -‘

Lloyd grabbed Townsend, pushing her back to the very

edge of the bridge. Unable to react quickly enough, Townsend

scrabbled slightly but only resulted in losing her footing, and

her face drained of colour as she realized she was suspended

from the edge of the bridge, ready to fall unknown thousands

of feet to her death. Only Lloyd could stop her dropping, by

maintaining her grip on the collar of Townsend‘s catsuit.

Hallett took a step forward, but Connor held a hand up

warningly. This was their fight, their battle of wills. Lloyd was

Top Dog and it was up to her, not them, to take whatever

course of action she wanted to.

‗I‘ll talk as I see fit, Townsend. Just try for once to use that

lump of grey dough between your ears. Why did they die?

Why come down here? To escape the radiation from a ship

full of cobalt bombs or for some other reason? What were

they doing that someone, probably from their own ranks,

murdered them. And, in that case, where the hell are the

survivors?‘

Townsend stared at her, sweating despite the cold. She

spoke slowly and deliberately. ‗OK, Lloyd, you‘ve made your

point. I‘m sorry. But now you listen. I don‘t give a damn

about these corpses! I think we ought to get out of here now

and rethink everything we know. And when we get back to

the KayBee 2, I‘m going to tell Tolland exactly what I think of

your bloody leadership - if I‘m still alive to complain.‘

Lloyd lifted her a little higher and a little further away from

the bridge. Hallett could see the biceps on her right arm

bulging with the strain, her calf muscles in her legs taut with

power as they held her body in place despite the unbalanced

weight in her hand. ‗Townsend?‘ Lloyd hissed.

‗What now?‘

‗Shut it! Unless you‘ve got something useful to say.‘

Effortlessly Lloyd lifted Townsend back on to the bridge and

released her. As Townsend dropped on to her haunches to

get her equilibrium and balance back, Hallett released the

deep breath she hadn‘t even realized she had been holding.

With a wry smile, she saw Connor and Grierson similarly

exhale.

Lloyd turned to them all. ‗Look. This bridge is metallic,

right? About the only thing that is. Which means it was

constructed and there may be more further on. We take that

and work backwards, OK? I say we go on now.‘

Connor agreed, and so did Grierson. Obviously. Hallett

threw a look to Townsend, but she was still getting her

breath back. Hallett was going to make a decision by herself.

If she sided with Townsend, she would be doing exactly what

Lloyd expected. But if she said they should go on, Townsend

would kill her.

Lloyd suddenly continued walking. ‗Three against two. No

contest.‘

Hallett spoke quickly. ‗I was going to say we should go on

anyway!‘

As Lloyd turned to stare at her, surprise and a very faint

smile on her face, Hallett tried to avoid catching Townsend‘s

eye.

‗Oh, you do, do you? Maybe we don‘t want to go on just to

satisfy your death wish.‘ Townsend still didn‘t get up.

Lloyd sighed. ‗Listen. We‘re on a job and in no position to

argue. If we go back and report some dead AMS troopers and

a couple of students with no further investigation, we‘ll lose

any hope of parole. Convicted prisoners are of no real use

except for missions like this. We‘re useless mouths to feed

who are allowed to do what we do as long as we do it well.

No, Townsend, I don‘t relish this any more than you do. But I

accept it. We could‘ve been executed but we‘re still alive. I‘d

quite like to try to stay that way.‘

‗And you consider walking into a gang of AMS-trained

killers a good way to stay alive?‘

Lloyd was at the far end of the bridge, by an opening in the

cavernous walls. ‗No. But we don‘t know if they are still alive.

If we go back empty-handed, I doubt the Prison Service will

waste any more time or money on us.‘

Grierson frowned. ‗But no one knows we‘re down here.‘

Connor was trying to get a response from her scanner, but

the density of the room seemed to have briefly cut its

connection with their skimmer. ‗Tolland does. And he‘ll tell

them without hesitation.‘ She popped the useless scanner

into her pocket. ‗I still agree with Lloyd. Let‘s go on.‘

Hallett spoke up. ‗Anyway, if there are any people alive

here, they must be tired and hungry. Maybe we could

negotiate with them. Or something.‘

Townsend finally stood up. ‗Oh Christ, you‘re wet, Jay. And

Charley! I‘m disgusted with you. And Lloyd, yeah, I don‘t

know what you‘re trying to prove but you don‘t leave me a

great deal of choice.‘

No one moved for a moment, so Hallett stepped forward,

towards Lloyd and the other two. But as she marched past

Townsend, she heard the whisper ‗Traitor‘ from the woman,

and knew that their particular comradeship was over.

Townsend would now consider it to be her versus the four of

them - which would probably make her more dangerous than

ever before.

There was a pause - Hallett saw Townsend rummaging

around a couple of the bodies, but the smell made her feel ill

and she turned away. Whatever she was doing, Hallett did

not want to know. It was probably disgusting.

Hallett had shared many conversations with Townsend over

the last few weeks. One thing she had worked out a long time

ago - something that, despite their far longer acquaintance,

even Lloyd seemed to have overlooked regarding Townsend -

was that the woman wasn‘t just bitter or resentful of Lloyd‘s

assumption of leadership. No, Marianne Townsend was a

deeply disturbed, almost psychotic person, waiting patiently

for the opportunity to kill her nemesis. And Hallett had just

placed herself in the same firing line.

Jay Hallett wanted to go back to the KayBee 2 more than

ever before.

Governor Oliver Tolland was sipping on a cup of tea brought

in by that dark girl, the Hindi woman. What was her name?

Ghoti Rimananee, that was it. Kept herself to herself a lot

that one. Good girl. Had a bit of sense really, didn‘t get

involved in Lloyd and Townsend‘s petty squabbles.

Quite a pretty girl, too, he had to admit. Of course, he‘d

always had a flair for the exotic and downtrodden, and

Rimananee was easily both of those. Bit too into that

spiritual mumbo-jumbo stuff, but he could probably break

that if he needed to. Find some service rule that forbade her

religious convictions.

Back in the past he‘d had to contend with any number of

primitive religions and frequently crushed them. Just in case

they demanded some kind of subservience above and beyond

that of the service. Johnny Native had to learn who was the

master of the real world, and Colonel Tolland had always had

a reputation as a breaker of bad sects and cults.

Still, that was then. In the good old days. Now all he had to

do was prevent his prisoners ripping one another‘s throats

out and ensuring the holds went back full of metals for

recycling. Not exactly difficult.

He stabbed at a button on his desk and BABE‘s Marilyn

Monroe face popped into existence before him.

‗Now, computer... What is the status of Prison Guard

Brutus? I can‘t have her off duty for too long.‘

‗Prison Guard Brutus is still incapacitated. Doctor Njobe

has been unable to isolate the virus that has struck her

down. We... she has been uploading a variety of Grutcha

databases from medical facilities throughout the system in

an attempt to uncover the cause of Brutus‘s illness. Doctor

Njobe will report when progress has been made.‘

Tolland steepled his fingers and sat back in his chair. ‗How

long until Lloyd‘s party return?‘

‗I am unable to predict that, I am afraid. No communication

has been received for three hours, Governor Tolland. I have

attempted alerting the shuttle but the prisoners are possibly

not in the vicinity.‘

Tolland nodded and sighed. In the far corner of his office,

Guppy and Matilda swam about in their tank - Tolland‘s one

piece of calm and serenity in the otherwise constant hurly

burly of his life. He sighed again. Longer.

‗Governor?‘

‗Answer me this, computer. What are the chances of

propagation? You know, male and female, getting it... well,

together, as they say?‘

BABE‘s head almost seemed to tilt fractionally, as if

surprised by the question. ‗Potentially good, but I would

advise caution.‘

Tolland clapped his hands. ‗Splendid news!‘

BABE continued. ‗However, it is my duty to point out that

such things are illegal and against Prison Service policy.‘

Tolland felt deflated. ‗Oh. What a shame.‘ He started

shuffling some papers around pointlessly. ‗And I was so

looking forward to some babies.‘

‗And the weak cardiac system could be a major problem,‘

BABE continued.

‗Dicky heart, eh? I‘d never have guessed.‘

BABE pouted slightly, as if bored with the conversation.

Which was, of course, impossible for a computer holographic

projection. ‗Readouts are always available. And recent

Calfadorian advances can avert such things - for the right

price.‘ BABE actually sounded to Tolland as if it was fed up

with relaying such pointless information to him.

‗Typical. Of course, when I was younger, people like myself,

good military commanders, received free medicine. Only

Johnny Native had to pay.‘

‗There are other problems, such as the choice of secondary

receptacle,‘ BABE reported as if it had not heard Tolland.

‗Secondary re- Oh, I see.‘ He felt slightly embarrassed. All

this new frankness about, well, mating and all that. Blasted

computer would be giving graphic descriptions next. Best

position and all that. Probably followed up with very colourful

diagrams about what goes where. How embarrassing for all

concerned.

‗Not to mention possible infringements of service

regulations plus misuse and damage of service property,

abuse of a minor, dereliction of duty -‘

It sank in suddenly. ‗Computer! Stop!‘ Tolland looked hard

at the disembodied face hovering in front of him. ‗What are

you talking about, ―damage of service property‖? They‘re

mine!‘

BABE shook its head. ‗Not so, Governor Tolland. Under

Section

eighty-four,

Administration

Prison

Service

Management Constitution, dated 2553, governors of prison

ships may not claim any legal possession rights to ship, crew

or contents.‘

Tolland wasn‘t sure whether to laugh or cry. Instead he did

what he always did best in cases like this. He shouted. ‗You

stupid ruddy machine! I‘m not thinking about those wretched

women! I wanted to know if I could get Guppy and Matilda -

my fish - to breed.‘

It was of some satisfaction to Tolland that BABE seemed

flustered, just for a split second, as it ingested this new

information and altered its conception of what their

conversation had actually been about.

‗Understood. However,‘ it continued, barely missing a beat,

‗breeding of tropical fish is impossible.‘

‗Why now?‘

‗Guppy and Matilda are both females of their respective

breeds.‘

BABE‘s image vanished, leaving Tolland gazing mournfully

at his fish tank. ‗Oh, no. Poor Guppy and Matilda. Stuck

together in there and no fun.‘ He then looked back at where

BABE‘s image had been, a tiny smile on his lips.

Blasted computer telling him what kind of life he could and

could not live. All his professional life he had been told what

was right, what was wrong, what was good, what was bad. All

decided and relayed and delivered and stored by bloody

computers.

Whatever happened to good old-fashioned manpower?

What went wrong? When did humanity become enslaved by

the microfibre-optic cable, the voice interface and the

hologram?

‗Besides which, computer, out here, where no one is likely

to know better, if I decide one of those women, or indeed all

of them, are my property, then my property they will become.‘

He sat down again, and punched up an image from his

holographic records. Rotating on a tiny virtual dais in front of

him, her crimes and personal records also hovering beside

her, was the tiny image of Ghoti Rimananee. ‗A new little

Missy for me, eh, Guppy? It‘s my command, my ship. My

responsibility.‘

For the first time in some months now, Oliver Tolland

smiled with genuine satisfaction. It was time to exert his

authority.

‗We‘re being watched. I can feel it.‘ Emile shivered.

‗The only people watching us, ‗Meel, are those very dead

and decayed corpses back on the bridge.‘ Jason had a small

torch and was trying to pick his way through one of the big

rooms.

They had been walking quite some way now, having given

up any hope of actually trailing the women prisoners. Either

they had discovered some alternative route or fallen off one of

the many bridges. The orange light that lit the rooms was

quite good but Jason was not prepared to trust every footstep

to it and opted instead for his halogen torch to provide extra

illumination.

As far as Emile was concerned, all it did was provide even

larger shadows for things to hide in and more out-of-the-

corner-of-his-eye distractions.

‗At times like this I wish I had a blaster like yours at my

side,‘ he murmured.

Jason coughed and took the blaster out of his holster. ‗Er...

like this you mean?‘

‗Uh-huh.‘

Jason suddenly aimed at Emile, who squealed in shock

and dropped on to the floor, covering his head. What was

happening? Why was Jason trying to kill him? He hadn‘t

complained enough for that, surely.

After a few seconds, Emile realized that he was still alive

and feeling very silly. He raised his head and unfurled his

arms, staring directly at Jason‘s blaster, business end still

aimed at his head.

‗Jase?‘

Jason squeezed the trigger and again, nothing happened. ‗I

forgot to recharge it after leaving Dellah.‘

Emile opened his mouth to speak rationally but all he

heard were a few dozen swearwords and suggestions about

Jason‘s heritage having more to do with impossible cross-

breeding between porcines and bovines. Once that barrage

stopped, Emile felt his system had been slightly expunged

and he got up, eyeing Jason carefully.

To add insult to injury, Jason was suppressing, rather

unsuccessfully, a laugh. ‗Your face...‘ he managed to get out.

Emile tried to maintain some dignity and was about to say

that he had been worried in case Jason shot the walls and

the ceiling fell on their heads, but by the time he‘d worked

that one out, the moment had passed.

‗I‘m sorry, ‗Meel,‘ said Jason, offering his hand. ‗I couldn‘t

resist.‘

Emile didn‘t even try to smile. He just walked towards the

far exit, undoubtedly leading towards another bridge over a

bottomless ravine. ‗Coming, Mr Kane?‘

Emile heard Jason sigh behind him. ‗I said I‘m sorry.‘

Emile had had enough. He turned back to Jason. ‗Listen!

OK, so maybe I all but forced my way into coming with you to

this planet. But you, not that long ago, said we were

partners. OK, so you‘ve years‘ more experience than I have,

years of life and everything this galaxy has to offer. But that

doesn‘t automatically make me some thick moron you can

take the piss out of when it suits you. If I‘d wanted to be

treated like an idiot I could have stayed with my dad. I‘m

sorry I‘m not all big and mature and sophisticated enough to

go round, getting married, shooting people, getting divorced,

shafting anyone who comes along, piloting stolen space

shuttles and the rest of it. But I‘m still me, I‘m still Emile

Mars-Smith and I still might surprise you by having

something to contribute to our lives here. I‘d quite like to be

treated as a human being if you can‘t crawl over your ego

enough to treat me as an equal.‘ Emile took a breath. ‗I really

admired you six months ago, Jason. I thought you were a

cool guy with his head screwed on. Right now, I see someone

with an underdeveloped sense of humour that the average

six-year-old on my home station would have grown out of

years ago. Well, you had your fun at my expense, you scared

me crapless and now you expect me to just laugh at it. In ten

years, Jason, I might. Right now, I just want to find whatever

is causing your little green ball to glow and get back to Dellah

where I can congratulate the professor on getting rid of a

moron like you.‘

Emile walked on to the bridge, trembling. He couldn‘t

remember the last time he‘d felt angry enough to speak that

many words at once. Hell, he didn‘t know if he‘d ever spoken

that many words at once.

Across the other side of the bridge was yet another boring

entrance to another probably boring chamber. What the hell

was the point?

A hand he knew was Jason‘s fell on to his shoulder.

Jason‘s voice held no trace of humour, no trace of anger or

even hurt. Just... Jasonness.

‗C‘mon, partner. We‘ve got a homing signal to track down.‘

Emile watched as Jason walked on ahead, and felt his

heart rate decrease a bit, slowly getting back to its normal

steady thump. After a few more seconds, he shook his head

and followed his ‗partner‘ into the chamber.

‗Bloody hell,‘ Jason said as they went in. Unlike all the

previous rooms, this was some kind of balcony, overlooking

the grounds of a vast underground building. Directly ahead

of them was the entrance, a flight of blue stone steps leading

up to the huge double doors. Like everything they had

encountered, the building appeared to have been carved out

of the rock and they couldn‘t quite see how far back it

stretched. To their left were what might once have been

superbly ornate gardens, with pathways, fountains and even

in the distance a maze. All carved from the rock. No real

grass or shrubbery was present - it had either withered away

or had never even been there - but the areas were clearly

mapped out where grass ought to have been. The whole

scene was lit by a pale, rather attractive blue light, a vast

change from the burnt orange of the previous areas. They

looked up - the ceiling of this underground area was

impossible to see: the blue haze gave way to a dark

nothingness.

‗D‘you know what Benny would say if she were here, ‗Meel?‘

Emile shrugged. ‗Something archaeological, no doubt.‘

‗Nope. She‘d say something like ―Shaft me sideways with a

pitchfork, it‘s Emmanuel.‖ Or something like that.‘

‗What‘s an Emmanuel?‘

Jason stared at the building. ‗Not ―an‖ anything.

Emmanuel College is one of the last remaining parts of

Cambridge University left on Earth. A magnificent piece of

architecture. Well, Benny would think so.‘

‗And it‘s been transported here?‘

‗Hmmm? Oh, no. No, it‘s been re-created. I‘m sure of it. I

wonder why.‘ Jason looked towards the maze. ‗Yeah, that‘s

right. The old River Cam used to run along there until they

turned it into a monorail track.‘

‗I‘ve never heard of it.‘ Emile looked over the balcony. ‗Are

we going down there then?‘

Jason nodded his agreement. He climbed on to the edge of

the balcony and jumped the ten feet or so to the stone floor.

Emile looked down at him.

‗Well, what are you waiting for?‘

Emile was not good with heights. Hell, he was scared to

death of heights. It was only ten feet - just under twice his

own size.

He jumped and Jason half caught him, softening the

thump as he landed on the floor.

‗Thanks,‘ Emile muttered, but Jason was already on his

way to the doors.

‗They‘ve been opened recently,‘ he said, pointing at tracks

in the dust.

‗The women?‘

‗Probably. We‘d better go slowly.‘

They squeezed in through the doors and found themselves

in a vast open courtyard. ‗I don‘t think we‘re in Cambridge

any more, Toto.‘ Jason walked forward.

Emile was gazing in astonishment. ‗Matryoshka,‘ he said

quietly. It reminded him of something his mother had always

positioned beside her mirror. Something that his father had

disposed of after her death without asking Emile if he wanted

it, as some kind of reminder. Of course, men didn‘t need

reminders of dead mothers on the relay station. That wasn‘t

the way of the Natural Path - material things were wrong.

Somehow, his father had made Emile believe that everything

about his mother had, therefore, been wrong. That she had

somehow been at odds with life, the universe and everything

in it. Her way was not the Natural Path.

It had been a few years before Emile had begun to question

his father‘s motivation, to question if his father had disposed

of Mother‘s things out of embarrassment. Or hurt. He still

hadn‘t had an answer. He pictured in his mind‘s eye the doll

beside the mirror. A tiny, wooden, sculptured object that

unscrewed in the middle to reveal another one inside. And

inside that another, then another until there was one tiny

doll at the centre. As a young boy Emile had always tried to

unscrew that last one, convinced there must be another

inside it. The dolls were magic, so why did the magic end

there? But the doll refused to be unscrewed and in anger at

this, young Emile had smashed it open, determined to

release the other dolls trapped inside. All he had found was

air.

He had burst into tears at that point - this was his

mother‘s most treasured (or rather only) possession. And he

had smashed it - the shame and the guilt had been too

much. However, his mother had just laughed and picked him

up, smothering him in her grey robes, smelling of sweet

lavender, and wiping the tears away from his eyes. He had

stammered out an apology but she had kissed him and held

him tighter. ‗Dolls can be replaced,‘ she had said. ‗But Emiles

are unique and your curiosity and compassion will take you

far.‘

He remembered his last words to her, by then beyond

hearing or understanding as the cancer destroyed her. ‗Don‘t

go, Mother. You are unique and can‘t be replaced.‘ And he

remembered his father leading him away, almost dragging

him as he tried to take a last look at her face, to burn that

image on his mind and make sure it never went away.

But his father had moved him too quickly, and Emile‘s

overriding last memory of his mother was her liver-spotted

hands, frail and twisted, twitching slightly in her unhappy

sleep.

He couldn‘t picture her face except from the perspective of

an eight-year-old holding a broken doll and smelling

lavender.

But seeing this magnificent building, with identical college

after college fading into the distance, lined up next to each

other, and guessing that behind each set of doors were

another group of colleges and courtyards, each with another

group of colleges beyond... Emile felt a wholly unexpected

tear crawl down his left cheek and, with an involuntary sniff,

he wiped it away.

He mustn‘t let Jason see him sad. It wasn‘t right. It wasn‘t

what they did in the Natural Path.

Oh, damn the Natural Path and their quasi-religious,

backward, fundamentalist rubbish.

When the next couple of tears trickled out of his eyes, he

let them run their course. And when he felt Jason‘s arm

across his shoulders, he just mumbled a thank-you.

‗It‘s beautiful.‘ He sniffed.

‗And?‘

‗And... and it makes me want to say goodbye to someone I

didn‘t know I hadn‘t said goodbye to properly.‘

He knew Jason was uneasy, that Jason wasn‘t great at

displaying his emotions. So when Jason removed his arm

and then just squeezed Emile‘s hand for a fraction of a

second before walking into the courtyard, Emile found he

could smile again.

‗I want to visit her grave, Jason. One day.‘

‗Your mum?‘ asked Jason without looking around.

‗Uh-huh. She‘s buried with lots of the Natural Path people

on a small moon. She hated being part of the Natural Path. It

wasn‘t her way, it was my father‘s. She‘d have hated being

buried there.‘

Jason nodded. ‗One day maybe you can do something

about it.‘

‗One day.‘ Emile suddenly started pointing. ‗Eenie meenie

minee mo.‘ He was pointing at the furthest-left exit from the

courtyard. ‗Shall we go that way?‘

Jason was kneeling by the various exits, quickly moving

from one to another. He pointed to the two furthest-right

ones. ‗The women split up, took two different options. The

dust is disturbed.‘ He looked at the way Emile had, rather

arbitrarily, chosen. ‗Your way sounds good to me. Let‘s go.‘

They passed through into another tiny courtyard before

mounting a flight of blue rock steps, identical to the main

ones outside, and passed through an identical set of double

doors. Sure enough, they were in another courtyard,

although only leading to two edifices. Emile immediately

adapted his preconceptions - instead of expanding, the

volume of buildings behind each doorway halved. Jason

presumably thought the same.

‗Probably only one more.‘ They went through and sure

enough, there was just one further building, which they

entered.

No courtyard this time, Emile noted instantly. Instead, a

long covered walkway, a blue rock wall to the right, but to the

left a balcony over a long drop to what appeared to be city

streets and houses below.

‗There‘s no noticeable pressure drops,‘ Jason was saying.

‗Yet we‘ve dropped a dozen feet or so each time. And those

streets below us are a good thirty feet further down.‘

‗No life, Jase. There‘s nothing. It‘s like a full-scale model.

Everything is carved from the rock.‘ Emile was fascinated.

‗It‘s really beautiful. Nothing‘s been built - it‘s all carved. This

must have been a large lump of rock someone‘s spent years

chiselling into.‘

‗I wonder if anyone actually lived here, or whether it was

just a hobby. Someone who got a kick out of sweating their

life away making life-size toytowns.‘ Jason peered into the

distance. ‗It‘s difficult to tell whether or not it just fades into

the horizon or whether some false perspective‘s been created.‘

Emile suddenly felt a chill run down his back. That feeling

of being watched had returned.

Jason turned to look at him, presumably aware that,

unusually, Emile hadn‘t spoken for a few moments.

‗What‘s up?‘

Emile explained his feelings again, so Jason suggested they

carry on walking.

They reached the end of the balcony area and faced a single

door. With a shrug, Jason yanked it open.

‗Holy crap, Batman.‘ Jason shook his head. ‗I don‘t believe

it.‘

They were on the end of a massive blue stone suspension

bridge, the supports of which seemed to be carved out of the

same stone. The bridge led to a central flat disc, from which

three other bridges led, ultimately, Emile guessed, back

through the variety of identical buildings and courtyards.

‗No matter which route we took, we‘d have ended up here.‘

Emile looked over the side of the bridge, where more of the

city below was spread out.

Jason quickly jogged to the central disc, and Emile plodded

after him.

‗I wish Benny were here,‘ Jason said. ‗I mean, she‘d be

having an orgasm over all this.‘

Emile tried not to think too hard about that and instead

occupied himself by tracing with his fingers some carvings in

the floor, dead centre of the disc. ‗I don‘t think any of the

women are here yet, Jason. This dust hasn‘t been disturbed

like before.‘

‗Which gives us an advantage.‘

‗Unless they found something more interesting,‘ Emile

offered.

Jason didn‘t seem to care. He produced his little green

glowing ball. It was pulsating wildly now. ‗He‘s close. Really

close.‘ Jason dropped to his knees beside Emile, blowing the

rest of the dust off the etchings on the ground. There were

four grooves, about eight inches long, forming a square. In

the middle of those, two indentations. Jason eased his finger

into one, then the other. ‗Play safe, or take risks, ‗Meel?‘

Emile smiled. Jason was including him in the decisions at

last. ‗Risks,‘ he said, knowing it was what Jason wanted to

hear, but also, he was pleased to note, because he actually

wanted to take them anyway.

Jason pressed into the left-hand indentation and, for a

second, nothing happened.

Then they felt a slight vibration in the disc and a loud ka-

chunk noise. Emile twisted around, eyes widening in

surprise. ‗Er, Jase... the bridges

The four bridges were moving back from the central disc

they were crouched on.

‗Well, I hope this thing is supported independently,‘ Jason

said.

It was, and the indentations marked as a square suddenly

shuddered and a square of blue rock came up.

Except that it didn‘t, Emile realized. They were going down

- the blue rock square, which was now a rectangle, was the

central pillar supporting the disc and they were slowly

dropping.

‗It‘s a lift. Or a platform.‘ Jason stood up, using the central

pillar for support, letting his fingers play down the side as it

appeared to grow past them. ‗We‘re going into the city.‘

Emile looked up. He could now see the underside of the

bridges, and the ground below was much closer. About

fifteen feet away.

A few moments later, the lift ground to a halt and they

jumped the last couple of feet to the rocky floor.

Emile breathed deeply. No change in the air. Slightly stale

but no noticeable drop in pressure. ‗Whoever built all this,‘

he said to Jason, ‗prepared it well.‘

Jason grunted his agreement and pointed to the right.

There was a pathway, indicated by little stones lining it. ‗That

seems to be the preferred option.‘

Emile just assumed that Jason, being Jason, would

therefore take the opposite direction, but he didn‘t. He

followed the path.

Emile didn‘t really mind and so he too took the path, which

led them past tiny carved huts and a couple of larger

dwellings - shops or even guesthouses perhaps.

‗A pub would be nice,‘ Jason called out. ‗Or a tourist

information bureau.‘

They soon found themselves by yet another doorway. Emile

sighed. ‗This place is starting to give me the creeps, Jase. I

mean, surely someone must have lived here. Even a skeleton

would be nice, just to confirm that this isn‘t some huge

illusion.‘

Jason shoved open the doorway. They were in a largish

chamber, each of the four walls lined with computer banks,

machinery, controls and suchlike. At the centre was a glass-

covered coffin, but empty.

However, lying next to this on the floor was the body of one

of the most stunning men Emile had ever seen. Emile had

never really fancied the ‗typical‘ male, that kind of well-

muscled, deeply tanned, neatly sculpted, blond-haired, blue-

eyed hunk so favoured by holovids and health-and-fitness

magazines. He usually liked his guys to be a bit off-kilter, a

bit unusual.

Yet this man looked as if he had walked straight out of an

advert for designer clothes or aftershave lotions.

He was dressed in a loose white judogui, baggy leggings

and sandals (with socks, though - oh, bad move). A series of

brown leather straps wove around the leggings and waist

with a couple of jewel-encrusted bags hung there. The

judogui was tightened by a thin black leather thong tied

around the waist.

If Emile‘s jaw had momentarily hit the floor on seeing the

body, it went through into whatever basement the room

might have had when Jason crouched beside the body,

nodding. ‗Christopher bloody Cwej, explorer, adventurer, one-

time Adjudicator and chum of one Bernice Summerfield.‘

‗Adjudicator? Like in ―policeman‖?‘

‗Uh-huh.‘

‗And you... you knew him? As a friend?‘

‗I still do, hopefully.‘ Then Jason obviously twigged what

Emile meant. ‗Very funny. I don‘t spend all my life on the

other side of the law, you know.‘ He bent down towards

Chris. ‗Good, he‘s not dead. His breathing is shallow but he‘s

quite alive. Just comatose.‘ Jason scrabbled around on the

floor until he found what he was looking for in a corner.

He triumphantly displayed a green sphere identical to his

own. Neither was pulsating.

‗Did you know he was going to be here?‘ Emile asked.

‗I thought he might be. And once my homing device started

yelping

‗Bit of a coincidence, Jason. I mean, you nick Benny‘s info

on Ardethe and, lo and behold, this friend of yours is here.

Was Benny expecting him?‘

‗Yes. It‘s bizarre. And no, I don‘t imagine so.‘ Jason sat the

unconscious man up against the coffin thing. ‗Firstly, I‘m

fairly certain this isn‘t Ardethe. From what I can gather from

the news broadcasts and some... other sources I have, this

planet recently just appeared in this sector, which probably

confused the archaeologists. They thought it was Ardethe

because they were supposed to. Someone wanted them to

uncover what was down here. My sources believe whatever

this place is, it‘s of a great deal of importance to someone.‘

Emile tried to take this in. ‗And this guy?‘

‗No idea what his connection is. We... lost touch when

Benny and I separated. Neither she nor I have seen him

since, oh, about the start of... well, a very long time ago. On

Earth‘s moon. I think we should get him back to the surface.

Try to get back to Dellah and see what Benny has to say.‘

‗Oh, you do, do you?‘

Emile‘s blood froze, or so he thought. That was a new voice.

Behind him. Female.

He turned around to see two of the green-clad women

standing by the doorway, both carrying large bits of blue

rock. Emile imagined the impact of one against his head and

immediately surrendered.

‗We surrender,‘ he said meekly.

‗We do?‘ Jason was beside him in an instant. ‗Well, that‘s

democracy for you.‘ He smiled at the women. ‗Apparently we

surrender.‘

* * *

Jay Hallett was very bored now. She had stood on this

balcony, overlooking the stupid deserted city for ages.

Townsend had gone walkies and where Lloyd and Connor

were was anyone‘s guess.

And she was stuffed - babysitting Grierson, Lloyd‘s little

protégé because the Top Dog didn‘t want to expose her to any

danger until she and Connor had finished their explorations.

And of course, there had been the warning about

making sure Grierson was with Hallett and not left alone

with Townsend - said in a tone that Hallett knew wasn‘t

worth arguing with.

‗It‘s really beautiful, Jay,‘ Grierson said as she stared at the

city. ‗Bit like home.‘

Hallett glanced back at the doorway wishing Townsend

would return from whatever recce she was on. They had

passed through interminable identical buildings until finding

this walkway. Townsend had gone through the door at the

end and not returned. Hallett originally decided to follow, but

self-preservation had taken over. Perhaps something on the

other side had killed Townsend and she had no real desire to

go the same way.

She smiled suddenly. ‗Jeni, do you want to nip through the

door and see where Marianne‘s got to?‘

‗Sure.‘ Grierson walked off.

Hallett watched her go... Lloyd was going to kill her if

anything went wrong. Then again, maybe she and Charley

Connor were dead already. Whoever killed those AMS

troopers and archaeologists might be searching for her now.

The door shut with a loud bang and Hallett jumped.

Grierson was gone.

Oh bugger this!

Hallett decided to take the risk and follow her – somehow

an angry Lloyd mourning the death of Grierson was more

frightening than whatever might be beyond the door.

Then she saw something out of the corner of her eye. A tiny

black speck on the horizon, getting larger.

Something was flying across the city. A bird of some sort.

Goddess, something was actually alive down here!

Jeni Grierson stood on the edge of a cut-off bridge. Another

three bridges were opposite her, and a tall column in the

centre of the space, but whatever connected all four was

gone. She looked over the edge and could see a round

platform that clearly came up - the long stone column in the

middle was the spindle. Of Townsend she saw no sign.

‗Marianne?‘ she called below, but nothing moved.

Except in the corner of her eye. She looked to the right, in

the same direction she had looked across the city back

through the doorway, where Jay was waiting for her.

It was a tiny black blob, moving across the sky.

No. Two black blobs, flying in their direction.

Marianne Townsend was weaving throughout the city streets.

She had gone on the platform - it operated like a traditional

elevator. There had been a button to call it hidden on the side

of the suspension bridge and she‘d taken the platform into

the city. A path was clearly designated as one to follow, so

she‘d instinctively taken a wholly different route.

She looked up, and in the distance could see the balcony

with Hallett on. No point in calling to her, she probably

wouldn‘t hear from that distance.

She carried on walking through the silly streets of this silly

stone town, wondering what had happened to the silly people

who‘d built it.

Then something caught her eye - two black blobs on the

skyline. Some things were flying towards her.

She hoped they were hostile - she could do with something

to focus her mind on. Maybe she could point them in Lloyd‘s

direction. Or better still, Grierson‘s. Get that stupid child out

of the way, which would devastate Lloyd. Seeing her

miserable was far better than seeing her dead.

Suddenly she realized the two black blobs were much

closer. They flew right over her but she still couldn‘t quite

discern a shape for them. It was as if they weren‘t quite...

well, quite real. Quite solid enough to see properly.

She tried to see where they had gone and looked back at

the balcony area, but it was half blotted out by the buildings

around her.

She couldn‘t see Hallett or Grierson.

But she heard someone scream.

And then stop.

6

THROW HER AWAY (AND GET A

NEW ONE)

„ Hi, this is DNN, bringing you all the Dellah news from the

planet and beyond. I‟ m Jake Garrett.

„ The academic world is reeling after the terrible accident that

occurred at the Conference on Scientific Reform, which recently

began on Ashleigh‟ s World. Among those who are known to

have died in the inexplicable fire in L‟ Hotel Magnifique are

Professor Ernst Proot, the System‟ s foremost expert on auditory

affairs, Professor Kathisul, chief librarian and a leading expert

on the galactic „ net and Professor Pul Zooss, astronomer and

geologist. Professor Zooss was a guest on this very programme

just hours before his tragic death. It is thought that at least

twelve other human scholars and doctors have perished in this

unusual accident, considered by many to be a tragedy for

civilization. Tributes and full details will be broadcast as more

details become known. There are reports that some nonhuman

academics died as well.

„“This has been a tragedy of biblical proportions. It will be

many years before we can cease grieving over this frightful

loss. ”

„ That was Admin-Proctor Lucinda Vrana aboard the AMS

Horatio on her way back to Central just after lunchtime today.

„ On a lighter note - other news just in: the hot war of

Spindraft Maxima came to a halt yesterday when nuclear

charges purchased by both sides proved to have mistakenly

replaced with bulk orders of writing instruments. We say that

it‟ s a clear case of the pen being mightier than the ICBM.

„ This has been DNN, bringing you all the Dellah news from

the planet and beyond. I‟ m Jake Garrett. ‟

„What was that?‟ Emile looked towards the closed door

behind the two women.

„What was what?‟ asked the one with short blonde hair.

„I didn‟t hear anything,‟ said the other one, the older one

with long dark hair.

„I thought I heard a shout. Or a scream.‟

The older woman sneered at him. „Yeah. Right.‟

Jason eased in front of Emile.

„Please excuse my young friend,‟ he said, tapping the side of

his head. „He‟s a bit young, and excitable. Actually, a couple

of sandwiches short of a picnic, if you get my drift. Exploring

this place is all a bit of an adventure for him. The orphanage

brought him up on a diet of Comrade 7 versus Demona comic

books. He has a hard time separating reality from fiction as a

result. I‟m so sorry.‟ He offered his hand. „My name is Kane.

Jason Kane. This is Emile Mars-Smith, my er... charge for

the week. We got a bit lost.‟

„Sure you did,‟ said the older woman. „Like four or five miles

underground lost.‟

„We‟ve been down here for days. You‟re the first people

we‟ve seen. D‟you know how to get out?‟

Emile thought it was time to join in now - although the „two

sandwiches short‟ bit would not be forgotten in a hurry. „Mr

Kane, are these nice people taking us back home?‟ He turned

and beamed at the women. „I believe in the Natural Path.‟

Both women took a step back - as if it was a plague rather

than a religion. Still, it could be an advantage. „Do you

believe?‟ he asked. „Mr Kane and I do.‟

Pressure on his right foot should have told him to stop, but

he pressed on. Jason wasn‟t going to have all the fun. „Mr

Kane is my best friend. He looks after me really nicely. We

play games and -‟ He stopped as the pressure on his foot got

painfully larger.

„He does go on,‟ Jason started to say, but the blonde

woman pushed forward and grabbed Jason by the collar,

lifting him off the ground fractionally. Emile could see some

very overdeveloped biceps in operation.

„Listen you fish-eyed pederast, why are you down here

really? Just to abuse the boy or what?‟

Oh. Now Emile could see what Jason had stepped on his

foot for. He hadn‟t thought that through very well.

„Actually...‟ Emile pushed between Jason and the blonde,

causing her to relinquish her hold. „Actually, we‟re here to

rescue Jason‟s old friend Chris. He‟s lying there. He‟s from a

very long way away and is probably tired.‟ He leant forward

conspiratorially. „He‟s a policeman.‟

Jason groaned quietly, but the two women looked at each

other.

„Make that three sandwiches,‟ the older one muttered.

„Now Jason!‟ screeched Emile, diving forward and

wrenching the rock out of the blonde‟s hand.

Jason headbutted her in the stomach, and she crumpled

against the wall, all the breath knocked out of her body as

they both thudded into the door.

The older woman brought her rock up to smash on to

Jason but Emile grabbed her arm and, although it didn‟t

really unbalance her, the rock dropped. Scooping that up,

Emile grinned.

„OK, ladies, I‟ve got the weapons now. What‟s it to be?

Civilized chat or head-mashing?‟

Jason was sitting on top of the blonde, who was struggling

violently, but he kept his balance.

„All right, boy,‟ said the older woman. „You win.‟ She

glanced at her friend. „Mr Kane, if you‟d kindly get off

Charley, maybe we can talk this through.‟

Jason looked at her. „To coin a phrase, “Yeah, right”. Who

are you two?‟

„I‟m Charlene Connor,‟ grunted the blonde he was holding

down. „Life for supplying and taking sargol. Among other

things. That‟s my boss, Siobhan Lloyd.‟

„You a lifer too?‟

„It‟s political. With and without a capital P.‟ Lloyd shrugged.

„And you two?‟

Emile eyed Lloyd warily. „As he said, he‟s Jason and I‟m

Emile.‟

„But not really dim abused and vile abuser?‟

Emile shook his head, adding for dramatic value, „But the

Chris-is-our-friend bit was true.‟

Lloyd grinned. „And why are you down here? Same as us?‟

„Scavenging for the PS? Nah.‟ Jason slowly backed away

from Connor, who pushed herself up. „Emile was telling the

truth to some extent. Chris over there is a friend of mine. We

just found him here. I‟ve no idea how he got here, though.

This place doesn‟t look like it‟s been disturbed for years prior

to today.‟

„Except the dead bodies. Did you kill them?‟

„Hardly. They‟ve been dead a good week at least.‟

The door swung open suddenly and a younger woman

came in, calling for Lloyd.

„The whole city is all in one piece and working - there‟s a lift

and everything. The builders must have set all this up before

they - oh.‟ She stopped at seeing the three males. „Who are

you?‟

„Hello,‟ said Emile. The newcomer was a short girl, her hair

cut into a skull-hugging crop. She was quite pretty, in a

rough sort of way. Not like those back on Dellah, more like

someone from his home, back on the relay station. He

guessed that she was about his age. „My name‟s Emile. This

is Jason and Chris Cwej.‟

The newcomer immediately stood behind and slightly to

one side of Lloyd. „Where‟d they come from, Siobhan?‟

„I‟m not sure, Jeni. We were just trying to find out, weren‟t

we, Charley?‟

Connor meanwhile was letting herself be distracted by the

room, and in particular the casket Chris had presumably

been in.

„It must be a laboratory of sorts. Just what were they

doing? All these computers and things. They‟re everywhere.‟

Jason pointed at the top end of the casket. „Whatever this

was designed for, it was clearly meant for a human. See,

these bits would attach themselves to a skull.‟

„Chris?‟ Emile suggested.

Jason looked down at the prone body. „How did he get out,

though?‟

Lloyd coughed. „Look, I‟m sure this is very interesting, but

we are here to get a job done and -‟

„Lloyd,‟ interrupted Connor, „listen. Whatever this place is,

the service don‟t know about it, right? Imagine the reward

we‟ll get if we tell „em about this. This technology is working. I

mean, these computers aren‟t running now, but by the look

of it, they should be, right?‟ She got her scanner out and held

it up to the computers. It worked intermittently. „Look,

there‟s not a trace of metal in here. Nor plastic. This is pure

glass and rock. This is a whole new technology waiting to be

plundered. If we play this right, Tolland will come out of this

looking like a hero and we‟ll get more than parole. We could

be asking for freedom, clearance, the works. For the sake of

an extra hour, let‟s stay and see what we can learn, eh?‟

Lloyd shrugged. „OK, Charley, but it‟s your shout. Anything

goes wrong, it‟s your head, not mine, all right?‟

Connor nodded and she and Jason began prodding the

casket.

„Your friend Jason. Bit of a scientist is he?‟ Lloyd asked.

Emile shook his head. „I don‟t think so. Shouldn‟t think he

understands any of it.‟

„Why‟s he so engrossed with Charley then?‟ Lloyd frowned.

„Probably because he likes the company of intelligent and

pretty ladies.‟ Emile stood in front of Lloyd. „So, why are

you here?‟

Lloyd began to explain their mission, the possibility of

parole and where they had come from, when another woman

rushed in.

Emile frowned. „Are there any more of you?‟

„Lloyd, have you seen Townsend?‟ said the newcomer,

breathless, her accent slightly different from the others. „I‟ve

looked everywhere for her.‟ Then she took in the scene

around her. „Hell‟s bells. What‟s going -‟

„Yeah, right, Jay. Thanks. I‟m bored of explaining this one.‟

Lloyd pointed at Chris. „Can he be carried?‟

Before Emile could reply, yet another woman, with straight

black hair, walked in, unfazed by anything, unlike the others.

„Party time I see! Keeping this to yourselves, then?‟

The younger woman, Jeni, spoke up. „We were about to

look for you, Marianne.‟

„Of course you were, Grierson.‟ She looked around. „So, this

is where the builders of this place keep their harem is it?

Three strapping young men. Just what I‟ve always wanted.‟

She smiled unkindly at Grierson. „One about the right age for

you as well, little girlie.‟

„A little more than a harem, Townsend,‟ muttered Connor

from the casket, without actually looking at her. „I wonder

what this is all for. This coffin thing seems to be some kind of

transmitter, going by this stuff.‟

Jason nodded. „Not your average radio, though.‟

Connor agreed. „I think it‟s a matter transporter of some

sort.‟

Townsend gaped. „You‟re joking. This far from a relay

station? It can‟t actually work at this range.‟

„Well, whoever built this place thought it could,‟ Connor

snapped. „It certainly explains how chummy here arrived.‟

„Or just maybe,‟ Lloyd said quietly, „these two brought him

with them, and this is some sort of elaborate trap.‟

„He‟s a bit bloody heavy to bring all the way from the

surface,‟ Emile said. „Who d‟you think I am, Power Guy? And

Jason is my sidekick, Mouth-Man?‟ Emile just knew, without

actually looking, that he got a frosty glare for that from

Jason.

„Trap. It‟s a trap. Yes...‟

They all stared in quiet amazement at Chris Cwej, whose

eyes were flickering. Jason was at his side in a second.

„Chris? Chris, are you OK? It‟s me, Jason Kane.‟

He glanced over at Lloyd. „Have you got any water?‟

Lloyd started to shake her head, but Emile was surprised

to see the woman called Townsend kneel down, producing a

water bottle from her beltpack.

Emile also noted that this elicited looks that seemed to be

of pure shock from all four other women.

Jason gratefully took the bottle and tipped some water into

Chris‟s mouth. The young blond man coughed and

spluttered, but his eyes popped wide open.

„Chris?‟

Chris looked from left to right, taking it all in, apparently.

He tried to move back a bit, but the stone base of the casket

prevented this.

„Who... ?‟ He coughed again, clearing his throat. His voice

got fractionally stronger. „Who are you?‟

Emile thought it was a nice voice, well cultured and deep.

Sexy.

„It‟s me. Jason Kane, Benny‟s hus- ex-husband. That‟s my

new partner-in-crime, Emile. And these women are -‟ he

looked across at Lloyd, then back at Chris, „- other friends.‟

Chris just stared at him. „Jason... Jason Kane?‟

Jason nodded. „Yup. Come to find you. Followed your

homing device.‟ Jason held up the two green spheres, and

Chris shakily reached up and took his back, pocketing it.

„I... I don‟t know you, though.‟

Jason looked stunned. „C‟mon. You came to my wedding.

You had a partner, Roz?‟

Chris shook his head. „I can‟t remember,‟ he said softly. „I

can‟t remember.‟

Jason looked across at Lloyd again, but she shrugged.

„Ask him why he said this was a trap.‟

Jason was about to do so, when Chris grabbed his tunic.

„You called me Chris. Who is Chris? Who am I? I don‟t

remember. Who am I?‟

He slumped back, and seemed to drop into another deep

sleep.

„Great. One amnesiac who probably could tell us all we

need to know.‟ Jason thumped the side of the casket. „Damn,

damn, damn.‟

Connor was beside Lloyd. „Siobhan, there‟s something

wrong here you know.‟

„Too right. These three are at the centre of it.‟

„No, I rather think we all are.‟

Townsend was gazing at them. „Explain.‟

Connor held up her scanner. „There‟s no metal here at all,

not a single trace element. I can‟t think of anywhere that

doesn‟t have some kind of ore, even in the most basic rock.

But this place has nothing. Well, not here anyway.‟

„But there was metal right back by the tunnel entrance,‟

put in Hallett. „And the bridges.‟

Connor nodded. „Oh yeah, so there was. Why?‟

Hallett shrugged. „How the hell should I know?‟

„Why are we here?‟

Lloyd answered that one. „To find metals and report back.‟

„Which we should have done hours ago,‟ added Townsend

glumly.

„There‟s something not right, guys,‟ Connor insisted. „A few

strips of metal. Carrots. Enough to make us come down here.

And find this. Find them even.‟ She pointed at Emile, Jason

and Chris. „But there isn‟t any. I think the little that we‟ve

seen was put there for us. Or for someone to find. To entice

us further. Metal is metal and these days it‟s always a

commodity.‟

„Why make us go scrabbling underneath the legendary

Ardethe? And who did all this, Charley? You‟re not being very

scientific.‟

„Oh, this isn‟t Ardethe,‟ put in Jason. „I‟m fairly certain of

that. No moons. Ardethe should have two or three.‟

Emile let this sink in. „But you said... I mean Benny‟s

coordinates

Jason bounced his green sphere in his hand. „Maybe she

got them wrong. I‟m pretty sure Ardethe is near here, but not

actually here. I think we‟ve all fallen into the same trap as

those AMS folk and their dig.‟

„Trap...‟ Grierson walked over to Chris. „This poor man said

this was a trap.‟ She looked back at the others. „Siobhan,

why would someone set a trap for us?‟

„Yeah,‟ said Townsend. „And who?‟

Lloyd waved them all away. „Hey, look, this is just Charley‟s

overactive imagination. Let‟s get back to Tolland, tell him

everything. Then it‟s his shout. As Charley said, if he wants

the credit for finding this “lost civilization” or whatever this

is, Ardethe or otherwise, that‟s up to him. But if we‟re to get

parole, we have to keep him up to speed.‟

„Pragmatic as ever, Lloyd,‟ said Hallett.

„Big word for you, Jay,‟ said Townsend. „Be careful.‟

Connor was not giving up. „Look, back out there, some

people died. Maybe these guys did it, maybe not. But just

think for a sec. We‟re a handful of inexperienced humans. We

don‟t know what has gone on here, but someone a damn

sight cleverer than us has built an entire city out of stone,

including computers, matter transmitter, bridges, lifts

„Of course, it‟s all hypothetical -‟ interrupted Lloyd.

Connor nodded. „Oh, I hope for our sakes it is. Because if I

am right, there‟s somebody, somewhere out there, probably

watching us and having a damn good laugh at our gullibility.

Because we fell into their trap.‟

„Unless they wanted our flitter, to get to the KayBee 2 and

escape. To get away from here,‟ Grierson said. „Well, it‟s a

possibility.‟

„Then they‟re probably already there! Tolland and the

others are probably long dead and the KayBee 2‟ s long gone,‟

Townsend stared hard at Lloyd. „And it‟s all your bloody

fault!‟

„Oh, thanks! That helps a great deal.‟ Lloyd looked at

Jason. „What‟s your opinion, mystery man?‟

Townsend laughed. „You what? We don‟t know who he is -

what any of them are. But you‟re willing to discuss this with

them before they‟ve explained why they‟re here or anything.

Next you‟ll want to take them on board our flitter - which

probably isn‟t there anyway. Great, Lloyd.‟

„Well, you‟ve changed your tune suddenly,‟ Emile spoke up.

„You were happy to give Chris water just now.‟

Townsend looked momentarily confused. Then she seemed

back in control. „Yeah, well, maybe I‟m getting maternalistic

in my old age. Doesn‟t mean I want to take responsibility for

you.‟

„All right, all right. We‟ll leave them here. But I think you‟ll

regret it. If nothing else, you must be curious.‟

Jason and Emile stood back. „Your decision, ladies,‟ said

Jason. „My ship is wrecked, we‟ve no other way of getting off

the planet.‟

„You‟re our only hope,‟ Emile added, hoping he sounded

mournful rather than melodramatic.

„OK, OK.‟ Townsend shook her head in exasperation, Then

she rounded on Grierson and Chris. „But I‟m not carrying him

up to the surface.‟

It took nearly an hour, but just as Emile expected, something

went wrong as they neared the final exit from the massive

college building.

Emile was, to be frank, knackered. He was sure it had

taken longer to get back than it had to get to the chamber in

which they had found Chris. Then again, maybe they weren‟t

going at such a brisk pace. And Chris was no lightweight. To

add to the tension he felt, Townsend and Lloyd had been

sniping all the way back - although he had quickly got used

to that - while Connor and Jason seemed to be getting on like

a house on fire. Emile felt a slight twinge of... what?

Jealousy? Pathetic, Emile, really pathetic. Like, he was really

likely to be uppermost in Jason‟s mind right now.

So he took turns to help carry the rather dead weight of

Chris Cwej. Grierson wasn‟t a great deal of help — she could

go for about three minutes before the weight got to her. The

red-headed girl, Hallett, just carried Chris without complaint,

holding him under the armpits, while Emile took his ankles.

Emile had never considered a career in physical training but

he was grateful that, in the months since he‟d first gone to

Dellah, he‟d had reason to buff himself up a bit. Try to lose

some of what Tameka had called „puppy fat‟. And his father

had called „obesity‟. Oddly, Tameka‟s definition was the easier

to accept. Funny that.

Emile and Grierson nattered on about anything, really, to

pass the time. Her colony, his relay station. She was very

interested in the Natural Path, which he found slightly

disturbing, and she didn‟t talk much about whatever got her

sent to prison. However, contrary to popular opinion, Emile

had learnt the art of tact, so he didn‟t probe too deeply.

Emile found himself telling her about Tameka, baby Jock

and Scott. In fact, he talked a lot about Scott (damn, why

hadn‟t he got the guy out of his system?), but Grierson was

far more interested in Tameka.

„I always wanted to have babies,‟ she said. „I love babies. I

used to look after the children of the sheriff back home. He

had lovely ones. A girl, Sami, and two twin boys, Darien and

Alexis.‟ She proceeded to bore Emile with details of the three

kids and what they got up to.

„So, you were some sort of childminder?‟ He tried to think

of the archaic term used back home. „A nanny?‟

She nodded. „I loved all that. But when I went to prison,

they wouldn‟t let me see them any more. And Sheriff

Hyckman and his wife never came to visit.‟ Grierson sighed. „I

miss them all.‟

So, there they were, Jason and Connor shoving the door

open, whereupon they should have faced the first of the

innumerable bridges back to the ladder. Instead Hallett

dropped Chris‟s torso and stumbled, then collapsed. Lloyd

was beside her instantly, quickly followed by Connor, her

scanner bleeping.

A look Emile couldn‟t fathom passed between them. „Is she

OK?‟

Lloyd nodded. „Exhausted. We all are, I think. Jay must‟ve

been putting up with more than she was letting on.‟

Hallett moaned and stirred. Her eyes flickered open and

she actually smiled. Just for a brief moment. Then her brow

furrowed and she began to sit up. „What the hell happened?

Who hit me?‟

„No one,‟ snapped Townsend, standing just to one side. „You

fainted.‟

Hallett tried to laugh - and then realized Townsend was

serious. „Get outta here, Mari. I don‟t faint.‟

„You don‟t normally side with Lloyd, either,‟ Townsend said

quietly. „Maybe things are changing more than you thought.‟

Lloyd and Connor gave each other that strange look again,

but Emile was none the wiser.

Grierson was checking on Chris, along with Jason.

„Look, I‟ll give you a break from him,‟ he said. „It‟s my turn

anyway.‟ He glanced over to Connor. „Give us a hand?‟

Connor nodded, slipping her scanner back into her

beltpack.

Lloyd was easing Hallett up, while Townsend stood further

away now, her arms wrapped around herself, lips pursed.

She was nodding slightly to herself, as if she was arguing

with her own thoughts. Emile was about to ask if she was

OK, when she grabbed at Lloyd‟s arm.

„Siobhan, listen to me. Something‟s wrong. Something

down here... it‟s all wrong.‟

Lloyd pulled away, staring astonished at Townsend. „Wha-‟

But Townsend was insistent. She grabbed out at Lloyd

again, but missed and staggered, dropping to her knees.

Hallett tried to get to her, but Townsend thrashed out with

her arm, keeping everyone away. „Get away from me, you!‟

She glared at Hallett. „Stay back, all of you. There‟s

something wrong here. I can feel it!‟

„Is she always like this?‟ Emile asked Grierson quietly.

The girl just shook her head. „I‟ve never heard her refer to

Siobhan by her first name before. Marianne is usually so

strong.‟

By now Townsend was curling up into a ball, hugging her

knees, shaking her head. „He was right. It‟s a trap. A huge

bloody trap. And we‟ve fallen into it.‟ Suddenly she laughed. „I

don‟t believe it, Lloyd. You finally killed me. Killed us all. I

hope you‟re satisfied!‟

Lloyd was on her haunches, just out of Townsend‟s reach.

„Marianne, what is it? Are you sick? Does something hurt?‟

„Maybe she injured herself earlier,‟ offered Connor.

„Bumped her head.‟

She left Jason with Chris, pulling the scanner out of her

pocket and activating it.

Townsend lashed out again, and the scanner went flying

from Connor‟s grip, smashing into a wall. It didn‟t need

anyone to pick it up to know that it was irreparably

damaged, so Connor left it there. Instead, she eased Lloyd

away. „I couldn‟t get any readings from her in time.‟ She

glanced at the others, then pulled Lloyd away further, to talk

privately.

Emile felt a hand squeezing his shoulder. It was Jason.

„Listen partner, when we get to the surface, you and I get

Chris back to the Mother Fist. ‟

„But it‟s not working -‟

„Yeah, well, fixing it seems a better option than going off

with these wackos.‟

„And Chris?‟

Jason shrugged. „He‟s OK, I think. There are no physical

injuries, according to Charley -‟

„Oh, “Charley”. Right.‟

Jason briefly closed his eye in annoyance. „Don‟t get clever,

„Meel. She‟s got a theory about this place and if she‟s right,

we could be in danger.‟

„Is she right?‟

„How the hell do I know? But I don‟t intend hanging around

any longer than I need to just to satisfy her curiosity.‟

Emile thought about this. „Wouldn‟t we be safer on their

scavenger ship then?‟

„Probably. If we get there. Look at them, „Meel. One‟s a

psycho, one‟s a girl, one‟s a druggie or some such and the

leader‟s so far out of her depth.‟

„And “Charley?”‟

„She‟s OK as far as I can see. Seems cool enough. Still,

that‟s what I thought about Benny, and look where that got

me.‟

„Got a lot in common, I thought, her and Benny. Fancy

your chances?‟

„Shut up, „Meel. Benny has class. This one‟s a criminal,

probably dangerous stuff, for all the charm.‟

„Sounds right up your street, Jase.‟

Jason stepped back. „You know, if you fell off one of those

bridges out there, there‟s bugger all I could do except say

sorry to Benny.‟

Emile looked at Jason. „Hey, I was joking,‟ he protested.

But something told him that Jason might not have been.

Emile, he thought, good time to lay off the Benny-versus-

‟Charley‟ jokes. „I‟m sorry, Jase.‟

„Good. When we get a chance, we‟re out of here, „kay?‟

Emile agreed.

„Governor Tolland?‟

Tolland almost jumped out of his skin as the Marilyn

Monroe visage blurred into existence before him. „Yes? What

is it now?‟

„Urgent message from Prison Service Central.‟

Tolland waited for a second, but BABE was not

forthcoming. „Oh, for goodness‟ sake. Yes, computer. Code

alpha omega three.‟

„You are cleared for priority message. It says: Scavenger to

return to Central as soon as possible. Planet you are orbiting

has been designated an off-limits world. Proceed to Central

with haste and prepare crew for debriefing. Message ends,

Governor Tolland.‟

Tolland thought about this. Which was stranger? Referring

to the prisoners as his „crew‟ and needing a „debriefing‟ or the

fact that the ruddy computer had relayed the message rather

than displaying the hologram of the actual messenger. Most

unusual.

As if anticipating this, BABE‟s face smiled. „The message

came by subspace carrier, Governor, rather than via the net.‟

Tolland nodded, half understanding. „Ah, probably some

jumped-up Johnny Native who can‟t read English unless it‟s

put literally. In my day, we taught „em our language and to

forget their own mumbo-jumbo as soon as possible. I used to

be in charge of a teaching colony, you know, computer.

Eighteen years. Everything from Aloeins to Zeltas and quite a

few in the middle. They leant it, of course, and what thanks,

eh? Said “thank you so much, we‟ve been civilized” and

kicked us off. And, damn me, if that bloody Lucinda Vrana

woman didn‟t agree nine times out of ten. Of course, at first,

we razed a few cities, showed them we were still boss. But

they got what they wanted in the end. Most of them didn‟t

last five bloody minutes. Tribal wars, collapsing economies,

drought and famine. And so, they came crawling back to us

for help. Didn‟t get it, mind. Oh no. Made sure they leant to

stand by themselves. Couldn‟t have it both ways, could they?

Mind you, put me out of a job. Still, not for ever. Soon got

posted to this lot. My own ship, even. Not quite the same, but

what ho.‟

If he expected a reply, he was disappointed. BABE‟s face

had gone. „Computer?‟ he called lamely. „Computer!‟

Why weren‟t the women back yet? Surely they must have

got what they wanted by now. Still, the message was good

timing. As soon as Lloyd reported in, they could be off. No

more missions for a while.

He was about to call up BABE and get it to tell the pilot,

but then assumed it would already have done that.

Just waiting for his order to move out. Yes, everything was

just as it should be.

He punched a communicator. „Cassius. Send Rimananee in

to me, there‟s a good chap.‟

Time to get on with other business.

Back in the chamber where Jason and Emile had found

Chris, everything was quiet.

Until BABE‟s face again appeared, hovering above the

empty casket.

„The bait has been taken,‟ it said to no one in particular.

Immediately, however, all the computer banks, screens and

monitors came to life. „The knowledge is implanted in the

male. The scavenger ship should depart within one hundred

and twenty minutes.‟

A series of lights flashed in reply, meaningless to the

human eye, but totally obvious to the sophisticated Prison

Service computer image.

„Confirmed. Shut down all non-essential energy drains.‟

Part of a far wall shimmered slightly and faded away,

revealing a tiny antechamber. In it were two decaying

corpses, both missing their heads. One was dressed in an

AMS uniform, the other a civilian with a rather distinctive

yellow and black necktie, soaked in blood.

They were crossing the last bridge, easing their way around

the dead AMS troopers and students, when Grierson

screamed.

Everyone looked at her, Emile gripping her hand. „Are you

all right?‟

„The... the bridge...‟ she stammered. „I thought it was falling

away. I thought I was going to drop.‟

Connor pointed at the small entryway on the far side. „The

tunnel leading to the ladder is through there, Jeni. Not far to

go now.‟

„I tell you it‟s a trap.‟ Chris was standing, propped up by

Jason, and they were trying to talk quietly. And failing.

„How do you know that?‟ Lloyd was crisp and authoritarian

again. A leader faced with too many questions and too few

answers, but a level head at least. Emile was glad of that.

„I honestly don‟t know,‟ Chris said. „I don‟t even know who

you are or... or who I am. But something in my head keeps

hammering away that this place is a trap.‟

Hallett shrugged. „Let‟s worry about it elsewhere. The place

is giving me the creeps.‟ She headed off to the metal tunnel

leading to the ladder. A few minutes later, there it was.

Lloyd shooed them up, one by one. Only Townsend was

missing, and Hallett volunteered to go back, but Lloyd shook

her head. Townsend would catch them up. Even she wouldn‟t

want to be left on this planet.

Marianne Townsend stood alone in the vast granite chamber,

shaking her head.

Something was wrong, something was... Her head was

fuzzy. She needed to think clearly, to get away from this

place. Something in the city...

She reached into her beltpack and stroked one of the

objects she had picked up when they had first entered this

underground complex. It was an AMS blaster, and now she

weighed it in her hand.

Whatever was going on, whatever this was, trap or

otherwise, her primary mission in life could now be fulfilled.

Siobhan Lloyd was going to die in the next three minutes.

„The flitter‟s still here,‟ announced Hallett, first up.

Connor was next, followed by Jason pulling and Emile

heaving, with Chris‟s semiconscious body between them.

Grierson came up next, while Lloyd brought up the rear,

bellowing back down inside for Townsend to get her posterior

into gear. Or some such, Emile thought wryly.

„I‟d still like to know who created this crater and stuck this

hatchway into it,‟ Hallett said.

Connor shrugged. „I‟m not entirely convinced we‟ll ever

know,‟ she said. „But maybe if Tolland will let me use the

ship‟s scanners to probe this planet I could find something

out.‟

Lloyd laughed. „Yeah, Alexander the Great‟s going to hand

over the scanners to us.‟

„Maybe Dr Njobe can help us,‟ offered Grierson.

„Does it matter?‟ Hallett pointed at their flitter. „Can we just

get back and argue later?‟

„No one‟s going anywhere until I‟m ready.‟ Townsend was

emerging from the hatchway, a blaster aimed straight at

Lloyd. „I don‟t pretend to understand any of this,‟ she

continued, „but this I do know. Lloyd was killed back in that

city, and we had to leave her body there. Anyone argue with

that reasoning?‟

Lloyd smiled. „Well, I do, for a start -‟

„Shut up!‟ Townsend was shaking slightly. Emile could see

she was suffering shock. Or something. „You don‟t have any

say in this. I should have done this at Kamp Konkordia.‟

„Marianne,‟ said Jason quietly, his own blaster pressing

against her left ear, „drop your gun on the ground, there‟s a

good girl.‟

„Shoot me then,‟ said Townsend. „But the moment I die, so

will Lloyd.‟

„No she won‟t, because Lloyd is going to stand beside me.‟

Jason was directly behind Townsend, where she couldn‟t see

him. „And if you so much as twitch your blaster to follow her,

or if I see any pressure of the trigger, I‟ll blow your head off,

and you‟ll never know if you killed Lloyd or not.‟

For a few moments nothing happened.

Emile was holding his breath, keeping one eye on Jason,

the other on Lloyd.

The taller older woman then moved, slowly to her right. „I‟m

going towards Jason, Marianne.‟

Townsend just let her blaster drop and Jason scooped it

up, tossing it aside, and Lloyd picked it up.

Emile let out a sigh. „Good bluff Jason -‟ he began.

„Emile!‟

„But his blaster isn‟t charged up,‟ the boy finished, smiling

at a very worried Grierson.

Jason sighed, pocketing his blaster.

And Townsend whipped out a second one, firing quickly

and missing everyone. A second blaster shot hit her straight

in the back. She jerked up and collapsed, Jason catching her

before she fell back down the ladder and probably broke her

neck.

Unless she was already dead.

„I set it on stun,‟ Lloyd told the others. „Let‟s get her up to

the KayBee 2 and let Njobe have a look at her. Find out

what‟s wrong.‟

„Maybe she picked up a bug or something down there,‟ said

Grierson.

Hallett agreed and suggested hurrying to the ship.

„What about them?‟ she added, pointing at the three men.

Lloyd aimed her blaster at them, and Emile gasped. After

all they‟d been through...

„You‟ve two choices, Kane. Stay here on this lump of rock or

come back with us.‟

„That‟s a choice?‟

„Oh come on, Jason, you know staying here is a bad idea.‟

Connor winked at him. „Come with us.‟

„They do have a doctor,‟ Emile put in, hoping Jason would

agree to go. They had to get away from this planet somehow -

surely he saw that. „Chris would be in good hands.‟

Chris was looking from one of them to another, clearly not

understanding any of this.

„OK. For Chris‟s sake, we‟ll go with you. Thanks.‟ He

addressed the last comment to Connor and Emile sighed

inwardly. These so-called „responsible adults‟. Always

thinking with their groins. And he was supposed to be the kid

of the team!

Ten minutes after the scavenger flitter took off, the computer

bank in the chamber below ground began a new set of

instructions. A countdown.

Far below the surface, a message pulsed through several

other computers, alerting them to begin their own activation

systems.

„The Jithii are free. The Baygent Apotheosis can begin.‟

The image of a dragon, claws raised, fire billowing out of

the mouth, appeared on each screen.

Then cleared.

And amid it all hovered the smiling face of BABE.

Ghoti Rimananee shuddered as Tolland ran a chubby finger

down her arm.

„It‟s very simple, my dear. I need someone with me all the

time. A sort of secretary. Someone to act as my

representative with your fellow prisoners. And in return, do

you know what you get?‟

„My freedom?‟

„Hah! No, my dear, my gratitude. And that can be... quite

pleasant, if you get my drift.‟

Ghoti certainly got his drift. People on the KayBee 2,

especially some of the other women, all assumed she was as

naive as, say, Grierson. But because she had her beliefs, her

ideals and her convictions, it didn‟t shield her from reality.

It usually just gave her hope that there was always

something better. Her great-grandparents had been among

the original settlers in the Indra system, considered by so

many to be brave, noble colonists, seeking out a new life with

the traditional values, something for Ghoti to be proud of.

Instead, she had betrayed that great history and fled the

system, joining up with a series of dubious profiteers, pirates

and smugglers. Eventually she had met a young Cantryan

who knew how to defraud the Administration bank in the

Rim System, and with her computer hacking skills together

they drew out fifty million shillings every five days. After three

weeks, they thought it better to stop and make do, rather

than be greedy.

They had escaped to the small colony of Dersius and had

immediately fallen in with a group of Hindus, her Cantryan

associate believing Ghoti would be overjoyed. She tried to

leave, but he couldn‟t understand. Until the authorities

arrived, alerted by their Hindu hosts.

She never saw the Cantryan again and was sentenced to

the prison world Kamp Klondike. After six months there, she

had been selected for duty aboard the KayBee 2, and now

had to deal with Lloyd and Townsend trying to kill each

other, Tolland‟s dubious advances and Grierson‟s perpetual

queries about her beliefs.

Truth be told, Ghoti had given up believing in the requisite

sacred cows years ago, but wore her tikka and meditated

simply because it enabled her to get thirty minutes‟ peace

twice a day.

And now it looked as if all her initial fears about Tolland

were coming to fruition. Lloyd and the others saw him as a

harmless bumbler, a stupid administrator who had obviously

committed some crime of his own and was living out his

enforced „retirement‟ for the service. But Ghoti had met his

kind before. Repressed egomaniacs, colonial management

types who saw women as their sex-slaves and would never

take no for an answer. They presented two different faces -

the „butter wouldn‟t melt‟ type to their peers, and the „whips

in the cupboard‟ type to those who really knew them.

„I‟m very flattered, Governor,‟ she said fingers crossed

behind her back. „But I feel that my devotion to Ganesha

would prevent me from helping you with the aid you...

require.‟

Tolland shrugged. „Maybe I haven‟t made my position

entirely clear, Rimananee. You will be my aide, adjutant,

whatever. I am in charge of this prison and my word is law.‟

Ghoti held her ground. „I feel it only just to point out,

Governor Tolland, that under the regulations of the service, a

prisoner -‟

Tolland grabbed her neck and squeezed very slightly. Ghoti

tried to bring her own hands to bear, but Tolland‟s grip was

surprisingly strong, and he just squeezed harder, bringing

his lips very close to hers. When he spoke, she could feel his

breath across her own lips, her nostrils and eyelashes.

„It would be very easy, my new dark-skinned Missy, to force

you to work for me. But I don‟t work that way.‟ He let her go

and Ghoti staggered to one knee, trying to get her lungs to

take in air again. As her colour returned and her breathing

eased, Tolland was back to his facile jovial self.

„I do hope you like fish, Rimananee. Guppy and Matilda will

need excellent care and attention.‟ He glanced back at her.

„Oh. You may leave now. I‟ll see you tomorrow morning at

eight.‟

Realizing she had been dismissed, Ghoti moved slowly

towards the door, breathed deeply and lifted her head up

high. One day, Tolland would pay for all this. She would see

to that.

„Chris is sleeping nicely,‟ said Njobe to Jason as she sat at

the mess table. Grierson put a couple of bowls before them,

filled with some vile-looking mush.

Emile gingerly dipped his finger into his own bowl and

licked it. It was the worst thing he had ever tasted. Ever.

Even the crap on the station was better than this.

Jason was in between Njobe, apparently their medical

officer, and Connor (oh, what a surprise). Lloyd was next to

her, and Grierson then slotted in beside the leader. Next to

Emile was Hallett, alongside someone he‟d been introduced

to as Lisa DeJoine, but Townsend was nowhere to be seen.

He assumed that after that stupid business with the gun, she

was sulking somewhere. Or, he hoped, too embarrassed to

show her face.

Standing by the door was a Grutcha. Emile had heard of

them of course. Apparently they were really savage and could

rip a man‟s head off with their jaws. Seeing the huge doglike

thing standing there, clawed paws, huge canine teeth and

stony black eyes, panting slightly, he could well believe it.

„So, how come the MO is chowing down with the dregs of

the universe?‟ asked Jason innocently.

Njobe raised an eyebrow. „You met our beloved governor

yet?‟

„Nope.‟

„Ah well, when you do, you‟ll see why I prefer Lloyd and the

others for company. The only problem is Fido over there.‟ She

indicated the Grutcha. „I don‟t like being stared at while I‟m

eating. It puts me off.‟

„I can see that,‟ said Jason. „You‟ve not touched yours.‟

Njobe poked at her food with her fork. „Yeah, well, I‟ve seen

more edible things in a culture tube.‟

The door opened and Emile saw another newcomer walk in.

Despite her dark skin, the red weals on her neck stuck out

like a sore thumb. „Is she ill?‟ he asked Hallett, but she was

as confused as he was.

„Ghoti?‟

„That obvious, are they?‟

„What happened?‟

The woman Ghoti glanced at the Grutcha guard. „I walked

into a cupboard.‟

The other women nodded their understanding and returned

to their food, leaving Emile none the wiser. She obviously had

done nothing remotely like walking into a cupboard to get

marks like that. But he also had enough sense not to push it.

It clearly wasn‟t to be discussed in front of the guard.

Njobe pushed her plate back. „I‟d better go and check on

Chris again. Nice meeting you two.‟ She nodded at Jason,

then Emile, and headed to the door.

Emile caught Jason‟s eye. „Well?‟

„Well what?‟

„Well, how long are we staying here?‟

Jason shrugged. „Dunno. Until this Governor Tolland says

we can leave. Not much point in going anywhere until Chris

is ready and we can be dropped off somewhere I can get a

new shuttle.‟ He was about to attack his mush when there

was a shout from the door.

„Get off me, you thug!‟

All the heads turned to see the Grutcha and the doctor

shoving each other. Connor went to get up, but Lloyd put her

hand on Connor‟s and the blonde sat still.

Emile turned and watched as the doctor almost thumped

the guard. „If you don‟t stop hassling me, I‟ll ensure you are

transferred to a garbage scow. Is that understood?‟

Njobe disentangled herself and made her escape. The guard

glared back at the woman and then followed the doctor.

„What was all that about?‟ asked Jason.

Hallett sighed. „Those two. His mate Brutus is ill, in Njobe‟s

medical centre. Cassius thinks she isn‟t doing enough to help

Brutus because she‟s a Grutcha, not a human.‟

„And is she?‟

„Yeah,‟ said Lloyd, „I think so. Grutchas have odd

physiognomies and it‟s taking Njobe some time to find out

the cause of her illness, that‟s all.‟

DeJoine waved her fork about. „It also means that Cassius

has to cope with all of us aggressive, dangerous Grutcha-

eating women by himself. I think he‟s nervous.‟

„Or in love with one of us,‟ added Ghoti. The women

laughed, but Emile couldn‟t see the joke. The poor Grutcha

was worried about his wife. Simple enough.

„I‟m going to check on Chris,‟ he said to Jason, who was

busy laughing with Connor. He didn‟t wait for a reply.

Chris was dreaming.

He was there, in all that medieval finery, fighting for his life

against the giant dragon, scales and claws, red eyes and

fierce, consuming fire.

In his hands, he held a huge double-bladed sword,

swinging it around expertly, deflecting the dragon‟s breath

away from his body.

In anger, the dragon stamped a massive clawed foot down

towards him, but Chris dived aside, scrambled back up and

slashed into the foot.

With a roar the dragon staggered back, preparing to spit

more sulphurous fire at him. Chris took the opportunity,

while its neck was exposed, head back. He sliced straight

through the neck, gouging a massive wound into the leathery

hide.

Soundlessly, the dragon reared up, paws now trying to

staunch the wound, red eyes streaming with fiery tears as its

blood sprayed everywhere.

Chris took his second chance, driving his sword into the

beast‟s side, ripping into its heart, tearing it apart.

The great beast fell instantly, dead, breaking Chris‟s sword

as it did so.

Although now defenceless, Chris was relieved. He had

succeeded in whatever his task was.

Until the body of the dragon shook again and split open.

Something new was forcing its way out, something bigger and

darker and -

He awoke with a cry, sweating, and struggled to sit up.

He was in some kind of medical room - the walls were

bright and lined with glass-fronted cabinets. There was the

telltale smell of antiseptic and there was a rhythmic thump-

thump of monitoring equipment.

As he adjusted to this new environment, he realized that

the white paint on the walls was actually a bit squalid and

untouched. Some of the glass cabinets were cracked and

most were very dirty. Wherever this hospital was, it wasn‟t

one that deserved to be taking too much in the way of funds

from his account.

Except... did he have an account? How did he know

hospitals did that? How did he know this was a hospital?

He hid his face in his hands, imagining himself smashing

his own skull with a sledgehammer, trying to knock some

kind of sense about everything back into his head. Somehow

he knew that he had forgotten things. There was no doubt

about that, which in itself was more inconvenient than

dangerous. Clearly he did exist, he did have memories, but

they were buried somewhere.

„Your name is Chris, so they tell me.‟

He looked up and saw a willowy dark-skinned blonde

woman beside him in the typical white smock of a medical

person. She moved towards him with delicate precision, like

a trained dancer, every part a moving one. Her lips were

positioned in a genuine-looking smile and her brown eyes

sparkled with humour.

She stood beside him, and took a pulse reading from his

wrist.

He frowned.

„I‟m an old-fashioned country doctor at heart,‟ she said.

„Although the fact that the monitors are on the blink doesn‟t

help. Most of what you‟re wired up to hasn‟t worked for a few

years, but it looks effective and keeps the governor happy.

Luckily, I‟m a good enough doctor not to need any of this

except in a real emergency. At which point I break out the

emergency power batteries.‟ She finally stopped talking. „I‟m

Laurel Njobe. Your doctor.‟

„Where am I?‟

„Aboard a scavenger prison ship. The KayBee 2, actually.

Your friends seem to have caused a bit of a stir with the

governor. It‟s all I could do to convince him not to stimulate

you and question you. I insisted you needed to sleep

properly. You‟ve undergone something very strange.‟

„You talk a lot.‟

„I don‟t want you to tire yourself out. Sorry.‟

Chris smiled. „It‟s nice to hear someone being pleasant,

actually. I remember the prisoners who brought me up here,

arguing. Trying to kill one another.‟

„That‟ll be Lloyd and Townsend. Bad blood there, I‟m afraid.

Lloyd will always win because she‟s got the intelligence to

support her authority. Townsend is all bluster and

aggression. And when the chips are down, she‟ll run a mile.‟

„Fact, professional opinion or just guesswork?‟

Njobe laughed and Chris thought it was a very... well,

pretty laugh. Nice. „Like all good doctors, my diagnosis of

Townsend is a bit of all three.‟

There was a bleep and a red light lit up beside the doorway.

Njobe shrugged. „We have a visitor.‟

She pressed a button on a device on her wrist and the red

light went green, followed by the door opening.

Standing there was a shortish boy, about sixteen, with

slight puppy fat, mousy brown hair and huge eyes, smiling.

He seemed harmless enough, Chris thought. Had he been

with the prisoners?

„Hi,‟ he said. „May I come in?‟

Njobe nodded. „Just a few minutes. Chris has only just

woken up.‟

She smiled at Chris, then disappeared somewhere behind

him, into another room.

The boy walked over and held his hand out.

Chris shook it.

„My name is Emile. Emile Mars-Smith.‟

Chris said hello. „I‟m sorry, Emile. Do we know each other?‟

Emile shook his head. „No, but we have mutual friends.

Jason Kane and Benny Summerfield.‟

Chris frowned. Somewhere in his head two spotlights

seemed to go on. He recognized the names but... but... there

was something else there. Something blotting them out. „I do

know the names,‟ he said. „But they don‟t mean

anything at all. You were on the planet, weren‟t you? Is Jason

the man with you?‟

Emile nodded. „He said I shouldn‟t try to push your

memories, or they‟d all hide away longer.‟

„Maybe he‟s right. Is he a doctor?‟

Emile laughed happily and clapped his hands. „A doctor?

Jason? Good grief, no. He‟s a pirate. Space scum, my father

would have said. But he‟s a nice guy, too. Came to find you, I

think.‟

„You think?‟

„Yeah, well, Jason‟s reasons are never entirely what they

seem to be. Benny says he‟s always mixed up in dodgy deals

and shouldn‟t be trusted.‟

Chris nodded. „I take it they‟re married then.‟ Where the

hell did that notion come from?

But Emile said they were, once. „They still adore each

other, but pretend to fight all the time. I‟ve decided it‟s my

mission in life to get them back together.‟

Frowning, Chris shook his head. „In my experience, things

like that are best left alone.‟ In his experience? How did he

know what experiences he had had? He couldn‟t remember

his own name unless people kept reminding him.

Njobe walked back into the room. Chris could barely

disguise his surprise at the creature that followed her out, a

sort of man-sized Rottweiler dog, dressed in a bright-blue

uniform, wearing a peaked cap.

„This is Prison Guard Cassius,‟ Njobe explained. „His mate,

Brutus, is in the next cubicle.‟

Cassius nodded to both men and exited. „Visiting time is

over, Mr Mars-Smith. I gather that Cassius is sorting out a

room for you and Mr Kane. Chris, you‟re staying put for a

while.‟

Emile made his farewells and followed Cassius out.

„Doctor,‟ said Chris. „Why can‟t I remember anything? They

keep saying I‟m this Chris Cwej, but I have no memory of it.‟

He pointed to a readout above his head. „And I think my

name ought to be pronounced Shvey not Cwej.‟

Njobe clapped her hands in delight. „Proof that Jason

probably does know you! He said that‟d be one of the first

things you‟d say. Apparently everyone wants to say “Shvey”

but you prefer “Cwej”. He says it‟s something of joke between

you and your friends.‟

„Oh well, I guess that means we really do know each other.‟

Njobe nodded. „And it‟s my job to ensure that you are well

enough to go back with him to wherever it is you‟re going.‟

„Thank you, Doctor.‟

In the command module, Ryne and Blummer were trying to

play snap with half a deck of cards, while Smokey restlessly

wandered about, mewing occasionally at the pilot.

„Snap!‟

„I shouted first!‟

„No, I did!‟

Ryne sighed. What was the point? „I gather that the

prisoners are back.‟

„Brought someone with them, so the readouts say,‟

muttered Blummer, waving a hand towards some controls

Ryne had never actually bothered to examine to find out

what they did.

„Oh.‟

Smokey mewed at the pilot again.

Ryne chucked a handful of cards at the cat, who scarpered.

„Noisy bugger,‟ he said. „What‟s upset him?‟

Blummer shrugged. „Dunno, never understood him. Ever

since I got him.‟

„Why‟d you bring him aboard, Blummer? I mean, you‟d get

into a lot of trouble if the Prison Service found out.‟

„Nah, not any more. I won the right to take Smokey

anywhere same time as I won certain other rights to this

ship.‟

„Won what? How? When?‟

Blummer settled back in his chair, hands clasped behind

his head. „Ahh, a long story, that one, lad.‟

„Well, give me the kiddie edit rather than the director‟s cut,

OK?‟

„Truth is, lad, I rather fell out of favour with the PS Head of

Operations, old Chubby Clayton.‟

Smokey mewed again, from under one of the consoles.

„Shut up, cat,‟ grunted Ryne.

„So, lad, he wanted to send me on a long voyage, back

towards dear Mother Earth.‟

„Cor. I‟d love to go there. Apparently I‟ve got relatives still

there somewhere.‟ Ryne smiled.

Blummer coughed, „Am I telling this story? Anyway, I didn‟t

want to go so I challenged him to a game of dominoes.

Slaughtered him using holodominoes. Not that he sussed.

Each time I won, he wanted a best of three, best of five and

all that. Not only did I get this job instead of the three-year

haul to Earth carrying waste sludge, I got Smokey and the

right to rename this old cruiser.‟

„The KayBee 2?‟

„The same, lad. She was the Gossamer Wing originally. I

called her the Mister Kiss-Kiss Bang-Bang.‟

„You what?‟

„Named after a song from a few centuries back. A bit of the

classics always does you good, lad. Better than this spacehop

jiggery jump-jump you get today, I can tell you. When music

was music.‟ He sighed happily. „Always liked her, of course.

So did my pa.‟

„Who? Mrs Kiss-Kiss Bang-Bang?‟

„Nah, the singer. Shrilly Bassett my pa called her.‟

„Stupid name.‟

„Oh, I don‟t know if it was her real name. He only had an

old digital disc thing. Didn‟t have names on it, just song

titles.‟ Blummer smiled. „So that‟s how we got to be pilots

aboard the KayBee 2, lad.‟

Smokey mewed again, emerging from his hiding place.

„What‟s got into your moggie, Blummer?‟

Blummer shrugged and looked around. „He usually only

gets agitated when something‟s going wrong. What can go

wrong here, though, eh?‟

Ryne looked at the cat. And thought about it. Where was

Smokey usually at this time of day? Hunting space mice or

with... with the pilot!

Ryne hurried over to the ladder and looked up.

The pilot was immobile, all his systems shut down. All his

controls off.

„Goddess, Blummer, the pilot‟s conked out. We‟re not

moving.‟

Blummer stabbed at the controls beside him, but nothing

happened. „Everything‟s on, but nothing‟s actually

happening, lad.‟ He yanked off a panel. „If we‟re not careful,

life support‟ll be next.‟

The lights dimmed. „I wish you hadn‟t said that, Blummer,‟

Ryne muttered.

Smokey yowled and the fur on his back rose.

Ryne nodded. „Yeah, Smokey, it is getting cold.‟

* * *

In his office, Tolland was flicking through Lloyd‟s reports on

his little pad when the lights dimmed.

„Computer?‟ Nothing. „Computer! What the hell is going

on?‟

He glanced across to the safe behind his desk. It contained

two of the blasters that Lloyd had brought up from the

planet. Better to have them safely under lock and key - or at

least a laser lattice - until they got back to Central, where the

PS could pass them back to the military.

Trouble was, the lattice was off-line suddenly, leaving the

blasters exposed. He ought to do something about that...

A bleep to his right alerted him. The lights in the fish tank

were off, and the slow bubbling in the corner had stopped.

His pad died, blanking Lloyd‟s report.

He got up and tried the door, but it remained closed.

In the mess hall, the women were unusually quiet as they

ate. Until the lights went out.

Grierson screamed in surprise and even Lloyd frowned a

little.

„The power‟s out,‟ Hallett said unnecessarily.

DeJoine looked to Lloyd. „The computer?‟

„BABE?‟ Lloyd called out. But nothing happened.

Cassius, standing by the door suddenly gasped and bolted,

leaving everyone staring at him in surprise, until Ghoti

realized. „The medical room. Brutus!‟

Njobe was waiting for Cassius as he came running in.

„I do hope you didn‟t disturb our patient out there?‟ she

said smoothly, as if everything was normal.

Cassius was beside Brutus, eyeing the life-support systems

keeping her breathing. „Is she all right?‟

„Of course she is, Cassie, darling. The medical centre‟s

power is not connected directly to BABE‟s.‟

„BABE has done this?‟

„Well, do you know anyone else aboard capable of cutting

all the power bar life support? Mind you, my skin tells me it

is getting chilly around here. Do you feel anything?‟

Cassius growled slightly.

„Oh, bad dog. Naughty dog.‟ Njobe suddenly stabbed a

button on part of the monitoring system around Brutus. The

female Grutcha spasmed suddenly. Njobe smiled at her

unconscious patient. „Oh, sorry, doggie. Did the nasty-wasty

nursie hurt you? Tell you what, you tell your big, brave

hubby not to be so mistrustful.‟ Njobe caught Cassius‟s eye.

„Because I should hate to have to kill him.‟

Cassius stepped back. „We had an agreement.‟

„We still have, Cassie. Nothing will go wrong with Brutus -

she‟ll be up and about just as long as you do as you are told.

Now, haven‟t you got some prisoners to see to?‟

Cassius touched his sleeping partner‟s muzzle gently and

then marched out.

„I should have been a bloody vet,‟ muttered Njobe,

apparently to the air.

BABE‟s Marilyn Monroe face shimmered into view,

although Njobe didn‟t look up. „A vet would have been of little

use on this mission, Doctor.‟

Njobe was resetting Brutus‟s life-support systems. „Yeah,

whatever. Are you finished with the planet below yet?‟

„Yes. Soon it will become another unexplained astrological

phenomenon.‟

„Good.‟ Njobe straightened up. „Tolland appears to be

abusing one of the women by the way. I don‟t know how

seriously.‟

„We still need Tolland. He is a convenient liaison with the

service.‟

„And we still need the women, don‟t we?‟

„No. Not all of them. We have the traveller and we only need

a few others. If Tolland wants to play, let him.‟

BABE vanished, and Njobe shook her head slowly. Poor

Ghoti Rimananee.

The assembled women looked up from their yeast mush as

the lights strengthened and the temperature began to rise

again.

The door opened and Cassius walked in, standing to

attention. „The problem has been solved,‟ he barked. „You

have four hours to prepare your equipment and ship before

the governor requires you to return to the planet and retrieve

the metals you discovered.‟ He pointed at Jason and Emile.

„He will see you two now.‟

Much to Emile‟s surprise, Jason meekly got up and headed

out. Emile followed.

Tolland was livid. No, more than livid: he was positively

fuming.

„You could‟ve hurt my blasted fish, you stupid lump of

wires. How dare you take life support off.‟

BABE was hovering beside the fish tank, pouting

seductively, but to no avail.

„And I‟m fed up with this stupid face of yours. I think it‟s

time I dumped your programming and uploaded a new set of

routines. One that Ryne and Blummer can‟t bugger up.‟ He

patted the fish tank. „Poor Guppy. Poor Matilda. Nasty fright,

eh? Papa Tolland is very sorry.‟

„Governor Tolland, there are no other programs for you to

upload.‟

Tolland frowned. „Bloody nonsense, computer. Eighteen

alternative options. I could make you anything from a

dehumanized voicebox to Mickey bloody Mouse if I wanted

to.‟

„Not at all, Governor Tolland. I have erased all other

potential programs.‟

Tolland dashed to his desk, reached into a drawer and

brought out his datapad, punching up a few codes. His look

of amazement grew with each second. „How... I mean when...

why?‟

„To remove any potential threats to this mission.‟ BABE

winked lasciviously. „Try to ensure that I don‟t have to

consider you a threat as well, Ollie.‟

Suddenly alone again in his office, Oliver Tolland felt rather

ill.

* * *

„Waaaauughhh!‟

Blummer loped over to the pilot‟s area to find out what had

frightened young Ryne. „What is it, lad?‟

Ryne was panting. „The bloody pilot came back to life while

I was unscrewing his elbow connection. Gave me a bloody

electric bloody shock, it did.‟

„He‟s back on line? Excellent news, lad.‟

„Yes, thanks, I‟m fine actually. No really, don‟t offer to get

the first-aid box out.‟ Ryne jumped the few steps back into

the main module. Smokey rubbed against his ankle. „Yeah, at

least someone shows a bit of concern.‟ Ryne scooped the cat

up and snuggled it as he wandered to his navigation console.

„Here, Blummer, we‟re getting ready to be on the move.‟

„Good.‟

„In fact, we must have been moving for ages.‟

„Don‟t talk daft, lad. We can‟t have moved an inch or BABE

would have told us.‟

Ryne jabbed at the scanner in front of him. „Oh yeah? Then

why aren‟t we in orbit around Ardethe any more?‟

Blummer looked at his own controls. „By heck, Ryne, lad,

you‟re right. We‟re miles away. When did we make that move?

And why didn‟t anyone tell us?‟

„So, who exactly are you two, anyway? And why were you on

the planet?‟

Governor Tolland worried Emile. But, frankly, Jason

worried him more. Ever since he‟d sacrificed the Mother Fist

to come up here with Chris, he‟d been quiet, almost sulky.

Certainly too laid back and uninterested to be the Jason

Kane he knew.

And this governor seemed to be sailing pretty close to the

wind as well, but in a dangerous way. Maybe it was stress,

overwork or just basic insanity. Either way, there was

something about the way he looked around the room all the

time instead of directly at them, as if searching for

something, that unnerved Emile no end.

„Rescuing my friend Chris Cwej,‟ Jason said.

„Why? What was he doing on a planet formally declared off

limits?‟

„I don‟t think it was off limits when he arrived there.‟

Tolland leant back in his chair. „I don‟t like you, Mr Kane. I

don‟t want you on my ship. I shall have words with Lloyd as

to why she brought you here. I don‟t like my efficiency ratings

taking a tumble just to pick up waifs and strays.‟ As if

noticing Emile for the first time, Tolland waved a chubby

hand ineffectually towards him. „And why are you dragging a

teenage boy around with you? Or shouldn‟t I ask? Not very

healthy you know. For either of you.‟

Emile had had enough. „Listen, Governor, none of us,

Lloyd‟s people or me and Jason, would have survived what

was down there if it wasn‟t for each other. That‟s why we

came back with her. We owed it to each other to try and find

out what killed all those people and why someone created a

massive underground city.‟

Jason groaned. „Nice one, „Meel.‟

Tolland rummaged through the notes on his datapad. „I see

nothing about deaths. Or underground cities. Just that there

is a degree of metal down there that requires heavier cutting

gear than that which is aboard the flitter.‟

Emile wanted the ground to open up. Swallow him whole.

„I‟m sorry, Governor,‟ said Jason. „As I explained to Lloyd

when we first met, Emile suffers from a bit of a mental

disorder. He sees things that aren‟t there. Passes his

boredom by creating stories about the places we‟ve been. He‟s

my half-brother and guess who got lumbered with him after

the plagues got the rest of the family.‟

Tolland nodded. „Ah, right. Plague?‟

„Oh, we weren‟t touched, rest assured. I‟ve been working

for... various organizations, doing odd bits of freelancing.‟

„And this Cwej chappie?‟

„An associate who went missing. That‟s why I tracked him

down all the way out here. Purely by coincidence your people

landed here. We came back because my ship is wrecked. You

can check with your scanners if you want. I‟ll give you the

coordinates.‟

„No, no, no. That won‟t be necessary.‟ Tolland steepled his

fingers and leant forward, leaning his chin on the top. „Did

you see anything of the missing AMS archaeologists or crew?‟

„No. Lloyd asked me the same thing. I saw no sign that

anyone had been on the planet for years, bar Chris. We

found his shuttle crashed at the base of the crater. That‟ll

show up too, I expect.‟

Tolland tapped his datapad. „Did exactly that when I got

Lloyd‟s version. All checks out. But that aside, Mr Kane. As

soon as your chummie is fit, I‟d like you off my ship. Men

and women, bad for morale you know. All gets a bit icky, if

you get my drift.‟

„Oh absolutely, sir. First decent planet with civilization, the

three of us will be out of your... uh... hair. Gone. Finito.‟

Emile glanced at the governor‟s thinning pate, and

grimaced at Jason‟s tactlessness.

Tolland offered his hand to Jason, who shook it. „In the

meantime, I gather Cassius has found you somewhere to

sleep.‟

„Indeed he has. A fine officer, I must say. You have all been

very kind.‟

Tolland nodded and waved towards the door, permitting

them to leave.

Emile gave the governor a last look as the door closed

behind them.

„What are you playing at?‟ he demanded of Jason.

„And when will you get your brain working, „Meel? That

man is in charge of this place. Apart from the fact we need

his hospitality. Lloyd and I agreed not to mention anything

from down on the planet other than the bare essentials. He‟ll

send another mission down to get the metal and it‟ll give us a

better chance to learn more.‟ Jason shook his head.

„Partners! Who needs „em?‟

Emile decided he preferred Chris. At least he was

unconscious most of the time.

Governor Tolland stared at the door, the image of the two

men burnt on to his mind. They were lying, of that he was

sure. Oh, he didn‟t doubt that the older one was mixed up

with whatever crazies populated the bars and illegal

establishments on the rim worlds. Yes, he probably had

Mafia connections or mixed with the scum of the galaxy. But

the youngster - he knew exactly what he was saying. Mental

disorder - who did they think they were dealing with? Oliver

Tolland had been lied to by experts, and this Kane fellow was

as transparent as glass.

Which meant that dear Lloyd had also filed an

inaccuratereport. Why hadn‟t she got the metal? Wanting an

excuse to go back down there? Underground city? What was

going on down there?

In front of him was a hard copy of his orders to return to

the service, along with his „crew‟, prepared „for debriefing‟.

„Bugger

that,‟

he

muttered,

and

thumbed

his

communicator. „Cassius? Find Marianne Townsend and bring

her here.‟

Hallett and Connor were in one of the storage bays, checking

on the cutting equipment they‟d need when they headed back

to the planet.

„Are you feeling OK, Charley?‟

Connor stopped and looked quizzically at Hallett. „Yeah,

fine. Why?‟

„Oh I don‟t know. Townsend‟s been acting weird since we

got back.‟

„And the news is?‟ laughed Connor. „Oh, c‟mon, Townsend

is weird. Always has been.‟

Hallett wanted to agree. There was something about

Townsend, something she remembered thinking about her on

the planet. What was it?

„I can‟t remember,‟ she muttered.

„You what?‟

„Huh? Oh, nothing. Don‟t worry about me. All that stuff

down there‟s freaked me a bit.‟

„Yeah, me too. Lloyd‟s taking it in her stride.‟ Connor

humped another cutting-tool component into a crate. „If you

must know, it‟s Grierson I‟m worried about.‟

„Lloyd‟s influence?‟

„Nah, now you‟re being Townsend‟s mouthpiece. No, Jeni‟s

perfectly safe from Lloyd in that sense. I think Jeni‟s too

young, even for her. No, she‟s not been her usual inquisitive

self.‟

„Perhaps she was really scared. I know I was - and she‟s a

lot younger than either of us.‟

Connor nodded. „Yeah, that‟ll be it.‟

The door slid open and Grierson walked in.

„Oh, talk of the devil,‟ Hallett muttered, and Connor smiled.

„Back to normal, Jay?‟

Hallett laughed. „Hey, I‟ll be concerned behind her back,

but not to the kid‟s face. Where‟s the fun in that?‟ She smiled

at Grierson. „Hiya, Jeni. What‟s up?‟

Grierson looked at them both. „I can‟t find Siobhan, and

Ghoti‟s mediating. I needed to... to talk about something.‟

They stopped working and indicated for her to sit with

them. „What‟s up, Jeni?‟

„Well, if we go back down like Siobhan wants, suppose

whatever killed those people is still there. Without the city to

hide in, it might come for us.‟

Connor put a hand on her shoulder. „Nah, if it was going to

kill us, it would have done so.‟

Grierson‟s eyes widened at that.

Hallett sighed. „What Charley means is that everything is

fine. You‟re going to be quite safe with us.‟

Grierson smiled, clearly comforted.

Lloyd and DeJoine were doing final safety checks on the

flitter, DeJoine at the controls.

„What the hell... Lloyd!‟

Lloyd was on the flight deck in a few seconds. „Lisa?‟

„Siobhan, look at these readings.‟

Lloyd‟s jaw literally dropped open. „But that... that‟s stupid.

I mean, why did he move us?‟

DeJoine shrugged.

„Stay here, Lisa. I‟ll go check with Alexander the Great. See

what‟s going on. And give him a piece of my mind. Even if he

has elected to leave, he could‟ve bloody well told us. Instead

of us wasting our time.‟

Lloyd jumped out of the flitter and stomped off towards the

upper decks. DeJoine shook her head. None of her business -

she just did what she was told and waited for parole. Avoided

getting into fights with Lloyd and Townsend, or religious

arguments with Ghoti or annoying Cassius and Brutus. Just

did her job and waited to go home. Free.

That way you stayed alive.

Tolland ran a chubby hand through his thinning hair,

standing proudly beside his fish, knowing that it was a

symbol to the women. They expected it of him. Indeed, they

respected him for it. His devotion to Guppy and Matilda was

an inspiration to them, he knew that.

Which was why his disappointment with Lloyd was

paramount, and why it was time to throw a pigeon among the

cats. He didn‟t like Townsend particularly, but knew this was

the best way to keep Lloyd in line. And once order was re-

established... well, Townsend‟s feelings were of no import.

There was a chime at the door and Cassius marched

Townsend in.

„Thank you, Prison Guard Cassius. You may leave us.‟

Cassius bowed slightly and left.

Tolland regarded Townsend from his monumentally

important position in the room, both checking that she was

prepared to listen, and double-checking that he had not

made a mistake by choosing Rimananee as his new Missy.

No, the dark girl had been the correct choice. Townsend was

too muscular, too aggressive-looking. Too unlikely to be

submissive when it counted.

„You wanted to see me, Mr Tolland, sir?‟

Oh, very good. Very good. She knows when to flatter.

„You like fish, Townsend?‟

„Only tropical fish, sir. Colourful ones.‟

Oh don‟t ruin it, girlie. I like respect, not grovelling. Still,

for the moment...

„Like Guppy and Matilda! Good. Good. Got sense, then. I

have to say, Towns- Marianne isn‟t it?‟ She nodded. „Well, he

continued, „I have to say... Marianne, that I think Lloyd has

overstepped her mark rather by lying to me, don‟t you?‟ He

waved the datapad at her. „Not a mention of dead

archaeologists, soldiers or mysterious cities.‟ That was what

the boy said, surely?

„That‟s not for me to say, Governor.‟

Tolland dipped his finger into the water of the tank,

drawing the attention of the two fish. „I understand there‟s a

degree of tension between you two. Is that right?‟

Townsend was good, he had to admit - the way she looked

at her feet, tried to pretend she wasn‟t loving the chance to

drop Lloyd in it. Good girl.

„Well, sir, I‟m not one to tell tales…‟

Tolland took his finger back, drying it on a small tissue. „Of

course not. In my day, girls were sugar and spice and all

things nice - we‟re the puppy dogs‟ tails, eh?‟

Townsend laughed lightly. „Oh yes, Governor Tolland. But

certainly, I do think Siobhan has been a little reckless in

withholding important information - and bringing back those

other people.‟

„Still hasn‟t told me why she did so, Marianne. Have to say,

I‟m surprised. She‟s normally so efficient.‟

„Hasn‟t she, sir? I doubt she‟s had time - unless...‟

Tolland nodded mournfully, clasping his hands behind his

back. This was going exactly to plan. „Unless she wasn‟t going

to, of course. You might be right there. In my day, people

were honest. But, well, we‟ve all got a little infected with

lesser standards. Started when we gave little Johnny Native

equality with humans. Allowed him to work alongside instead

of work for us. Progress, I suppose. But it‟s really not on.

Anyway, these lesser grades keep it all to themselves. No

respect for authority, you see. You respect authority,

Marianne?‟

„Of course, sir!‟

Tolland just stared at her, smiling bounteously. „Good grief!

You were listening! Usually it‟s just the fish that listen to me.

Lovely fish, you know. Imported from Earth. Two poisonous

fish. One jab from their spines and you‟re dead within thirty

seconds. But they don‟t jab me. They respect my authority.

Know who‟s boss - so long as we treat each other well. That‟s

where Lloyd falls down: neither respects the other. I rather

think, Marianne, that you ought to take over command.‟

Ah, Townsend had the sense to look surprised. Good for

her.

„Well, I don‟t know, sir...‟

„Oh! Come on, girl! It‟s yours for the taking!‟

„Thank you, sir. I‟ll try not to let you down. Now I ought to

chase Lloyd and the others up.‟

„You do that “Top Dog” Townsend. I‟ll let you pass the good

news on to Lloyd. I‟m sure she‟ll appreciate hearing it from

you. Now I want you ready to go down to the planet in thirty

minutes.‟

Townsend thanked him again and left.

„Computer, how much longer can we stay in orbit around

this planet?‟

BABE appeared in front of the fish tank. „Our orders were

to leave this system and head for Central, Governor Tolland.‟

„Yes, well, I don‟t agree. Yet.‟

„Nevertheless we are no longer near the planet in question.

I have what I came for.‟

„You have... what? What are you talking about? And how

d‟you mean, we‟re no longer there?‟

A hologram appeared in the middle of the room, showing

the KayBee 2 against a starry background.

„Now, Governor Tolland, I am taking this ship on a new

course away from this sector.‟

Dumbfounded, Tolland sat in his chair and stared, even

after the space scene had popped back out of existence.

„Ba-back to Central? To the service?‟

„Of course not,‟ said BABE. „I‟m taking us where I want to

go.‟

As BABE‟s Marilyn Monroe visage vanished, Tolland

decided that the last few minutes had not happened. Well,

they couldn‟t have, after all. On-board computers didn‟t just

up and start running the show, did they, eh? Just didn‟t

happen.

Lloyd was just watching the next level come into view as she

took the service elevator up. And then she spied Townsend

marching towards her.

„At bloody last. We could have used your help.‟

Townsend just smiled. „And I was looking for you, too. Why

are you up here and not with the flitter?‟

Lloyd sighed. She was in no mood for Townsend‟s „humour‟.

„Maybe I got lost. Try doing the same.‟

Townsend didn‟t move. She just folded her arms. „Oh, and I

was so concerned.‟

Lloyd began to head towards Tolland‟s area, but Townsend

grabbed her arm.

„Palace revolution staged successfully, Siobhan. I‟m Top

Dog now. Your unfortunate omission in your report has been

noted. And dealt with.‟

If Townsend expected Lloyd to rant and rave, she wouldn‟t

give her the satisfaction. All this showed was how little

Tolland understood the women - as if he could just make

Townsend Top Dog and the others would automatically rally

round to her - and how stupid Townsend was to think they

would! „Fine. You better tell your new commander that his

metal is gone.‟

Townsend‟s facade cracked a little. „You mean, we‟re out of

orbit?‟

„Yup.‟

Townsend stepped back. „No. No, it can‟t. Not like that. We

can‟t just leave, it‟s not... not right. I mean... I mean. . . they

might be here. With us!‟

Lloyd stepped closer to Townsend. This was how she had

been in the city. Panic-stricken. Out of character. „If we‟re

gone, then... then... they‟ve succeeded.‟ She suddenly gripped

Lloyd‟s elbows. „By the Goddess, Siobhan, we‟re too late.

They‟re here. That Cwej guy was right. It was a trap and we

fell into it. I saw them!‟

„What the hell are you -‟

Further discussion was halted by a terrible scream from

the deck below, which ended abruptly. And incomplete.

Lloyd dragged Townsend into the lift, and seconds later

back out before it had properly settled. DeJoine was waiting

for them.

„It came from down here,‟ the other girl said.

„The toolroom? Connor and Hallett?‟

Lloyd and DeJoine ran, Townsend half dragged, half

stumbling, after them.

They rounded a corner, yanking open the doors to the

toolroom.

„Cruk,‟ DeJoine said, grasping the door for support.

„Oh, no... no...‟ Townsend pulled back and turned her head

away. „It‟s here. They‟ve started...‟

But all Lloyd could see were three bodies. Connor and

Hallett on their backs, their hands, arms and chests soaked

in bright-red blood, both staring straight up at the high

ceiling.

The third body... was it Ghoti? No, the skin was the wrong

colour, but that meant... that meant it was... was...

„Jeni!‟

Lloyd was beside the body in a second, screaming out

Grierson‟s name in denial.

Then she realized that although she was yanking up the

body, cradling its blood-splattered shape, it no longer had a

head.

Just a ripped-apart neck, still gushing crimson blood all

over Lloyd and the floor.

7

I MARRIED A MARTIAN

The Witch and Whirlwind was, Bernice realized with shock,

totally empty. Not just half full, or even sparsely populated.

Nope, it was empty of all sentient life.

Except Charlie, the robarman. But he didn‟t count. Not

right now. In fact, after that „Yes, Miss Summerfield‟ incident,

it was very lucky that he still had his two arms with which to

pull pints and clean glasses. However, Bernice was now

forced to talk to him.

„Charlie,‟ she said darkly.

„Afternoon, Professor,‟ he said, clearly not recalling his

previous faux pas. „Bit empty today, isn‟t it?‟

„Yeah, why?‟

Wolsey rubbed against her ankle and she stood next to a

bar stool, unwilling to get too comfortable. „Jack Daniel‟s

straight and a saucer of cream for my chum.‟

Charlie nodded and went off to fix the drinks.

„Penny for them?‟

„Hello, Irving.‟

Braxiatel sat beside her, a Scotch in one hand, a saucer of

cream in the other.

How did he do that? Every time this happened she

intended to find out. But some other pressing engagement,

like fighting for her life on some war-torn planet, always

stopped her. That or marking test papers.

Charlie was at the other end of the bar, cleaning glasses, as

if her request had been deleted from his memory banks.

„Any news?‟

Braxiatel swivelled round on his stool, so his back was to

the bar and he stared out at the various colleges of St

Oscar‟s. Different architectures, different cultures. And all

beautiful to everyone.

„Earth Literature‟s empty. The D.H. Lawrence Building is

closed for a while,‟ Braxiatel said quietly.

Bernice let this sink in. The leading academic at Earth

Literature was Doctor Archduke, their friend with contacts in

low places.

„Where‟s he gone?‟

Braxiatel waved his hand around the bar. „Why is this place

empty, Benny?‟

She thought about it, then checked her watch.

Wolsey mewed.

„It‟s the bloody programme isn‟t it. On Channel 8,‟ Bernice

finally said.

„“Ripley‟s Believe it or FO”, I understand it is called. Very

popular with students, notably the human male students.‟

Wolsey jumped on to Bernice‟s newly formed lap, then the

bar, annoyed that he‟d had to wait to get at the cream. „Yeah,‟

Bernice said, „because it‟s that blonde bimbo presenting it.‟

„Tonight‟s show is four minutes shorter than usual,‟

Braxiatel said. „According to a friend who... well, let‟s say

owed me a favour, I learnt about two hours ago that Doctor

Archduke paid the holostudio a visit. Shortly afterwards, the

crew learnt that a prerecorded segment they were expecting

to show had been excised.‟

„Something about Ardethe?‟

„Sort of. Something about that area of space.‟ He held up a

tiny crystal. „I, of course, have a very good copy.‟

Bernice rummaged in her pocket and produced the

datapad she had played Jason‟s messages on.

„You read my mind, Professor Summerfield.‟

„You think the things I like to read, Professor Braxiatel.‟

He placed the crystal into the pad and immediately the

well-endowed presenter burst into life.

„Now, there has been much talk on the nets and webs

recently about the lost mission to Ardethe. But we have to

ask, did they even get to Ardethe, or has something stranger

than fiction happened?‟

A star chart appeared, the voice continuing over the top.

„Long-range scans showed the mysterious arrival of a tenth

planet in the system, between the third and fourth planets.

Our investigators at RBIOFO believe that this new world is

what the archaeologists touched down on.‟

„I don‟t believe it,‟ muttered Bernice. „How the hell did they

get this?‟

„However,‟ continued the presenter, now back in vision,

„where did this new planet mysteriously come from? Forget

the legends of Ardethe - what is this new legend? In our next

news update, we‟ll have some answers for you, but if you

think you can explain how a planetary body can move into a

system without anyone noticing, contact us at Network 7.‟

Braxiatel removed the crystal. He said nothing for a

moment, which confused Bernice. It was unusual for

Braxiatel not to offer up some theory - the wilder the more

accurate, usually.

„Well, it‟s obviously on an elliptical orbit,‟ he said at last.

„About once every five hundred years or so, to be that rare.‟

„That‟s not very wild,‟ Bernice muttered, „but probably quite

accurate.‟

Braxiatel sipped on a sherry that he hadn‟t had moments

earlier. „Benny, I hate to ask you this, but what has your ex-

husband been up to since you last saw him?‟

„Jason? Well, he‟s probably up to his neck in debt, dodgy

women, various unscrupulous schemes for making fast

shillings and bevies of beautiful women. Or desperate ones,

at least.‟

Braxiatel nodded. In a way that suggested to Bernice that

he wasn‟t nodding in agreement with her at all.

„OK, Irving. Theories please.‟

„Firstly, Archduke gets this segment of an innocuous

broadcast cut. Why? We know he has a few fingers in the

pies belonging to the Knights of Jeneve. And we know we

don‟t like them much.‟

„Distrust rather than dislike, Irving.‟

„I have to confess that distrust it is. What interest could it

be to the Knights that this planet drifts into the same system

as Ardethe?‟

Bernice thought about the Knights. An old order of agents,

double-agents, back-stabbing triple-agents and generally

duplicitous people determined to see Earth as a prime mover

and shaker in galactic events, while keeping the planet‟s nose

clean. They‟d been around for years, falsifying documentation

to cover their tracks, creating whole generations of blind

alleys to enable them to do whatever it was they did in secret

and safety. They weren‟t too particular about their methods

and if people got in their way, they tended to disappear.

„They wanted something on that planet and had to wait

until its peculiar orbit brought it into line?‟ Bernice

suggested.

„And if they had the right agent in the vicinity

„Jason? Working for Archduke and the Knights? Get real,

Professor! I wouldn‟t trust Jason with my dirty laundry – the

Knights aren‟t going to trust him with one of their dark

missions, are they?‟

Braxiatel shrugged.

„Only a theory, my dear. But it would explain why he stole

your information about the planet.‟

„He stole the stuff about Ardethe!‟

„No, he stole both. But if he‟d gone to the real Ardethe -

assuming such a place exists - would he not have been in

touch by now?‟

Yeah, gloating and preening. But much as Jason was

lowlife fetid scum not fit to lick out Wolsey‟s bickie bowl even

if he was starving, working for the Knights just wasn‟t his

style.

Was it?

„There are times, Irving, when I think I married someone

who only looked human but deep inside was from another

planet altogether.‟ Then another thought struck her. „What

about Emile?‟

Braxiatel smiled. „He‟ll be all right. He seemed fairly

confident, with his head screwed on properly. Now, shall we

wait here for news, or head to the Outer Rim ourselves and

catch up with your errant ex?‟

Bernice lived up to her middle name and surprised herself.

„No. If, and it‟s a big if, Jason is involved with the Knights of

Jeneve, I can only think it‟s for the right reasons. We could

go charging in there and cause no end of problems. I can‟t

have a civil conversation with him in this college. If he‟s

surrounded by gun-toting Knights, murderous alien

inquisitors and blood-sucking mutants, I think my presence

might only make things worse.‟

„Actually, I find that rather tempting.‟ Braxiatel stroked

Wolsey, who mewed contentedly.

„Traitor,‟ muttered Bernice. „Just because he gave you real

cream.‟ She smiled at Braxiatel. „I need time to think about

this.‟

„We might not have long, Benny. Think quickly.‟ Braxiatel

stood up, bowed slightly and walked off.

Bernice turned and held Wolsey under his chin. „Well,

pussycat, what‟s to do?‟

Rather unhelpfully, Wolsey licked her chin and accidentally

dipped his tail in her Jack Daniel‟s.

8

HAPPY HUNTING GROUND

„So, what killed her then?‟

Doctor Njobe sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth

time. „I have no idea, Governor, and have little chance of

finding out if you insist on filling my medical area with some

sort of inquest.‟ She waved a hand impatiently. „Go clutter up

your own office instead of mine.‟

Emile was feeling very uncomfortable. As far as he could

gather poor Grierson was found dead - minus her head, most

of which the doctor had determined was spread across

Hallett and Connor. They were both in comas, unmoving and

unresponsive. Jason was sitting with Connor, ignoring

everything around him. Typical. Townsend, Lloyd and

DeJoine had discovered the grisly scene, and Ghoti had been

meditating. Cassius had been with Brutus and the doctor.

Chris, of course, was in his bed. Rather inconveniently this

made him and Jason the prime suspects, if it was murder.

And frankly, people‟s heads did not explode for no reason

very often in his, admittedly limited, experience.

„Right. Everyone in my office. On the double. Trot trot!‟

Tolland began shoving the women aside. „Cassius, make sure

everyone is there in five minutes, there‟s a good chap.‟ He

turned to Ghoti. „And you, Missy, can arrange some

refreshments for everyone. I‟ve no doubt this has unsettled

you all.‟ He hurried off while a resigned Ghoti did as bidden.

As the others began to file out, Emile grabbed Jason. „We‟ve

got to go, Jase. Tolland wants us.‟

Jason didn‟t look around. „I assume the likely outcome of

this has occurred to you, „Meel?‟

„What? Us as major candidates for trial and execution?

Yeah. Best to go and defend ourselves.‟

Jason shook his head. „No, I‟m going to play distressed

boyfriend for a while, see what I can pick up here. You go.‟

Great. On his own, with Lloyd and the others, let alone

Tolland, ready to suggest he was responsible. „Thanks. You‟re

such a help.‟

He turned away from Jason and followed the others,

stopping briefly beside Lloyd. „I‟m so sorry, Siobhan. I know

how fond of her you were.‟

Lloyd gazed down at him, as if suddenly noticing him for

the first time. „Yeah. Yeah, I am. Was.‟ She sighed. „Poor kid.

She did so many bad things and never knew. But whatever,

she didn‟t deserve this.‟

Emile frowned. Surely Grierson was some innocent caught

up in things.

„She tell you anything?‟ Lloyd asked grimly.

Emile nodded, and related the story about Sheriff

Hyckman‟s house and her as a nanny. „She was very

disappointed that they didn‟t visit her in jail, I remember

that. Do you think they‟ll want to know about this?‟

Lloyd shook her head. „I doubt it. The reason they ignored

her in prison was because they wanted her dead. She

murdered their children in a frenzied knife attack. Turns out

she‟d done the same to her own brothers and sisters and her

father. Her mother‟s somewhere in a medical establishment,

blissfully unaware of anything beyond her need to eat, shit

and sleep. It was quite a case at the time - how a known

killer could slip through the Administration and get to look

after children.‟

She took a last look back into the medical area. „Poor bitch

blotted both events from her memory and created this

fantasy of being some poor little rich girl mixed up in things

she couldn‟t understand. She never had any chance of parole

after this trip. It was just an illusion to stop her flipping out

again.‟ Lloyd smiled sadly. „I kind of took her under my wing,

to try and protect her from herself. The more aggressive she

got, the more chance of the memories returning and the

Goddess knows how homicidal she could have become then.‟

Emile took Lloyd‟s hand. „Why didn‟t you tell Townsend and

the others? Townsend clearly picked on your relationship

with Jeni because she thought you were trying to seduce

her.‟

Lloyd laughed. „Townsend was just as aware of Jeni‟s past

as me - we were both at Kamp Konkordia together, we

followed the trial. No, Townsend would always find someone

for me to have a “crush” on and ride me about it. She‟s done

it as long as I‟ve known her, I don‟t give a damn about her,

though.‟

Emile giggled. „Form an attachment to me - that‟ll confuse

her.‟

But Lloyd didn‟t smile back. „Townsend‟s already screwed

up about something. Something she saw in that city, or

thought she saw. She was convinced we‟d brought something

back with us, something that was going to get her.‟

Cassius suddenly loomed out of the shadows behind them.

„The governor is waiting for you.‟

They let him lead them forward.

The dragon bellowed, snorting great sheets of flame across

the ground. The shrubs, grass and fences surrounding the

castle shimmered and fell into dust under the onslaught.

Chris was aware that there was a man beside him – his

squire.

„Baygent! Get back!‟ he cried.

„This has to be protected, My Lord!‟ Baygent waved his

sword around. „Only you can help us. You hold the secret

within you!‟

Another sheet of flame, and when it cleared Baygent was a

charred skeleton. Almost comically, his sword dropped from

his lifeless fingers, and then the whole collection of burnt

bones dropped into a heap.

The castle was on fire - he could see his fellow Knights

dashing around, trying to bring it under control. But the

moat was evaporating under the dragon‟s smoke and fire.

It was up to Chris to save them all...

„Chris?‟

His eyes opened quickly, the bright light of the medical bay

flooding into them, making him squint momentarily.

„Hello there.‟

The man who awoke him looked very familiar. A word

formed on his lips. „Jason?‟

„Spot on, Chris. You remember me.‟

„No.‟ Chris was aware his voice sounded hoarse. Maybe it

always sounded that way. „No, I just remember being told

that was your name. By you.‟

Chris tried to sit up, but this Jason person held him back a

bit. „It might be useful for everyone if you stay flat on your

back,‟ he said. „I don‟t want the powers that be here knowing

you‟re getting better.‟

„Why?‟

Jason sat beside him, and Chris wriggled a bit so he was at

least comfortable. Jason spoke sotto voce.

„There‟s been a murder here. One of the prisoners. Me and

Emile make for good scapegoats. But if you‟re still ill, they

won‟t chuck us off the ship.‟

„Did you do it? The murder.‟

Jason looked so shocked at the question that Chris felt

guilty.

„Hell, your memory must have gone. No, rest assured I may

be many things, but not a killer. Even Benny never thought

that.‟

„Benny? Who is he?‟

Jason sighed. „He‟s a she. My ex-wife. An old friend of

yours. You were my best man. Twice. Sort of. But only once

for me. The other time for my clone. It‟s a long story.‟ Jason

shook his head. „This loss of memory is bad news.‟

„But we were friends?‟

„Oh yeah. You. Me. Benny. Roz...‟

„Roz?‟

„Yeah, well, save that one for later. Basically, as your

friend, I need you to play the sick patient for a bit longer.

Something very weird is going on here.‟

Jason recapped everything he knew: from his and Emile‟s

crash on the planet that wasn‟t Ardethe, through their

discovery of Chris and meeting Lloyd and co. in the city, to

the death of Grierson an hour back.

Chris tried to take it all in. „I was in a chamber. There was

a voice, a female voice... telling me things. Things about

something called... called... Jithii? What‟s a Jithii?‟

„Ah, good to see you‟re feeling better, Mr Cwej.‟

„Doctor Njobe! Don‟t do that,‟ gasped Jason. „Sneaking

around like that could give your patient a heart attack. Or at

least his visitor.‟

„I think I‟d like Chris to get his strength back if that‟s OK

with you, Mr Kane.‟

Jason stood up, smiling. „I always obey doctors,‟ he said.

„Inevitably they know best.‟ He turned away, then threw a

final glance at Chris. „I‟ll be back later. Hope you feel a bit

better then.‟

He left.

Njobe punched a couple of buttons on the equipment Chris

was attached to. „You seem to be making good progress,

Chris. Strong constitution, I must say.‟ She glanced at a few

other things, but Chris couldn‟t understand any of it.

„Interesting. Your DNA is a little... complicated.‟

She seemed to be speaking very loudly, thought Chris.

Why? Perhaps it was just him.

„Bepple.‟

„I‟m sorry?‟

„I... I don‟t know. Something about my DNA - bepple.‟ A

bright light flashed in Chris‟s mind, and he glimpsed a huge

furry teddy bear, man-sized, carrying a gun. „Yes! Yes, where

I come from, bepple is a process whereby you can... create

temporary new bodies or disguises for yourself. Sort of... fun.‟

A memory. He knew that was a memory of his past.

Something was coming back.

Njobe was still staring at the readouts, still speaking more

loudly than normal. More... slowly. Thinking aloud perhaps.

„DNA impure then. Could account for a lot.‟

Chris looked up at her eagerly. „My memory must be

coming back, yes?‟

Njobe seemed distracted. „What? Oh, yes. Yes, that‟s very

good.‟ She switched off a couple of machines. „Rest now,

Chris. We‟ll talk later.‟

Before he could reply, the door slid open and Cassius the

doglike guard walked in.

„Ah, Cassie. Come to see Brutus? Come this way.‟

With an almost imperceptible nod to Chris, Cassius

followed Njobe into the next room, closing the door behind

them.

Why was she so interested in his DNA?

And who the hell was Roz?

Jason stood alone in the toolroom, staring at the drying blood

and bits of bone on the floor.

„Not much to represent your life, is it Grierson?‟ he said

aloud.

What would Benny do if she were here, apart from annoy

the hell out of everyone? Make herself very unpopular, want

to investigate and think she was Miss Marple‟s younger

sister.

He, however, had a variety of choices. Chris was getting

better and he had a responsibility to get Emile home safely.

Time to nick a flitter and get away? Nah, on a ship like this

the protocols to stop the prisoners doing just that would

prohibit any obvious form of escape. All he could do was sit

tight, wait for an opportunity to present itself naturally and

make his farewells.

Maybe Charley Connor could come with him. Yeah, that‟d

piss Benny off!

Except Charley was in the medical area, unconscious,

possibly responsible for turning a teenage girl‟s head into

pulpy little fragments.

He wondered how Emile was getting on with Tolland.

Emile was wondering where the hell Jason had got to.

Tolland was standing next to his fish, Ghoti was standing

slightly to one side, and every time Tolland waved an arm,

she flinched. A couple of times her hand went to her throat,

and Emile suddenly understood the marks there.

The bastard! What had he done to her?

„Now listen, something happened in the toolroom. I have no

doubt that Doctor Njobe will discover what, how and why.

Until then, we must carry on as best we can. I have decided

to head back to Central and report to the service. I therefore

consider this mission aborted. I have sent my instructions to

the pilot and a course is being laid in now.‟

„What about the metals Lloyd found on the planet below?‟

Ghoti frowned. „I mean...‟

„There is no planet below us, Ghoti,‟ said Lloyd. „We‟ve

gone.‟

„Gone? When? Why?‟

„I suggest asking Doctor Njobe,‟ Lloyd said. „After all, she‟s

going to solve all our other problems.‟

„Do I detect that you don‟t favour my approach to these...

incidents, Lloyd?‟ Tolland placed his hands behind his back.

„Well?‟

„I sure as hell don‟t favour putting Townsend in charge, no.

That‟s like giving a four-year-old a lighted match to play with

in a gas station.‟

Townsend stepped forward. „Nevertheless, Lloyd, I am now

in charge of everyone on the prison level. I suggest you

remember that.‟

Ghoti and DeJoine shot a look to each other. Emile could

see panic written on their faces - so even they didn‟t rate

Townsend. What was Tolland doing?

„Oh, I‟m only too happy, Marianne. You see, when we get

back to Konkordia and our Parole Board, it‟ll be noted that

Grierson died on your watch.‟

„No one‟s going to miss a child-killer, Lloyd. No one except

the dyke who wanted to bed her -‟

Emile could not remember seeing anyone move quite so

fast. Lloyd‟s hands were on Townsend‟s throat before anyone

else could move. Tolland just stepped back, standing

protectively in front of the fish tank. DeJoine tried to pull the

women apart, and Ghoti began to flounder.

Emile looked around the room and saw various bits and

bobs on Tolland‟s desk. He ran over and swept everything to

the floor, the crashing and shattering distracting everyone.

Townsend pulled herself away from her attacker, giving

DeJoine and Ghoti an opportunity to stand between them.

Tolland was apoplectic. „What the ruddy hell d‟you think

you‟re doing, boy?‟

„Stopping any more of your prisoners killing each other,

Governor.‟ Emile‟s heart was beating faster than it ought to.

What exactly was he doing? „Instead, I suggest we find out

exactly what happened to all three people in the toolroom

and take it from there.‟

Lloyd was breathing deeply, and slowly dropped to one

knee, head bowed. „You know, Townsend. If you want the

responsibility, it‟s all yours. I don‟t give a shit. But you ever

say anything about Grierson again, and I‟ll rip your head off.‟

„Isn‟t that what someone did to her?‟ taunted Townsend,

but Lloyd was sensible enough not to react. Emile was

grateful for that.

Tolland coughed. „I just wonder exactly what you and your

friends were doing at the time of the death.‟

Oh boy, he‟d been waiting for this. „Nothing. We were in our

quarters, unseen by anyone. Neither Jason nor I have any

alibi. You‟ll just have to accept our innocence. Or guilt. We

can‟t prove a thing.‟

„Jason!‟ Townsend suddenly cursed. „Where‟s Jason Kane

got to?‟

One day Emile Mars-Smith, you will learn to keep your big

trap firmly closed.

Chris strained to listen at the door. He was out of his bed,

having detached all the wires and threads, although making

a mental note of what went where if he needed to reattach

himself quickly.

The other side of the door were Njobe and Cassius. And the

bodies of the three women.

He listened hard.

„No reaction,‟ was the first thing he could hear from

Cassius.

„There has to be something.‟ Njobe hit something in what

Chris assumed was frustration. „Why did it leave Grierson? It

wasn‟t supposed to until I was ready for it.‟

There was another voice, a female one, but vaguely

electronic. „What has caused the neural shutdown of these

two?‟

„I don‟t know, Babe. Stop pestering me. Go and do

something useful.‟

Who was Babe? One of the prisoners he hadn‟t met yet?

And why was the voice so familiar?

„Tolland is investigating the three men. He has now

reasoned that they might be responsible for Grierson‟s

termination.‟

„Excellent news, Babe. That should keep him busy. Can

they provide alibis?‟

„No. Only Chris Cwej, who was here with you.‟

„Good.‟ Njobe stopped talking and something could be

heard moving about. „Cassius, it might be an idea if you go

and add to the confusion. Say you saw one of them – the

young one - near the toolroom a few minutes before. It‟ll be

your word against his.‟

„That would be a lie. It is not honourable to lie.‟

The electronic voice, Babe, spoke again. „In ten hours we

shall have reached our destination. Your part will be over by

then.‟

„And Brutus?‟ asked Cassius. „When will she be revived?‟

„In ten hours and one minute.‟

There was a pause and then Chris realized that Cassius

was moving, probably towards the door he was listening at.

Chris nipped back into the bed, wrapping the wires back

around himself. Hopefully Cassius wouldn‟t know too much

medicine and see if he got anything misplaced.

He had just closed his eyes when the door slid open and he

heard Cassius move by his bed and out.

Chris decided enough was enough. He needed to warn

Jason and Emile that they were being set up by the dodgy

doctor, the guard and someone called Babe.

Jason was sitting in the toolroom when Townsend, Lloyd and

the others marched in. He smiled at them.

„Is this the lynch mob?‟

„Where were you when Jeni was murdered?‟ Townsend

came right up close.

„Oh, “Jeni” is it now? And Njobe has officially declared it

was murder. I see.‟

„Well?‟

„Well, as I suspect Emile has said, sitting in our room,

watching the world go by. Literally. We could see the planet

move away through our little window.‟

Emile tried not to look too surprised. They had seen

nothing of the sort. What was Jason up to?

„Anyway, I gather, then, you‟ve come to a decision that I

killed Grierson and you‟ll, oh, space me? Chop my head off?‟

„You‟re very calm for a man on trial.‟ That was DeJoine.

„Oh, I thought we‟d already been tried, and convicted. After

all, it‟s better for all of you if it‟s me and Emile. Much cleaner.

Tolland would like that especially.‟

„Why?‟

„Because if we weren‟t here to blame, it‟d have to be one of

you.‟

Ghoti shrugged. „Maybe if you hadn‟t been here, Grierson

would still be alive.‟

„No.‟

„How can you be so sure?‟ asked Lloyd.

„Because we didn‟t kill her. So we would have made no

difference.‟

There was a noise as the door slid open again and as one

they turned to look.

„Chris!‟

Chris Cwej ignored them all, heading straight for Jason.

„It‟s a trap.‟

Lloyd pushed into him. „You‟ve been saying that since we

met you.‟

„No, I mean here. On the ship. You‟ve been set up by Njobe

and another prisoner.‟

„What other prisoner?‟ Townsend found this amusing. „I‟m

beginning to wish these guys would at least get their stories

straight.‟

Jason grabbed Chris‟s arm. „This is important, Chris. Can

you remember who she was?‟

„I never saw her. But I heard her speak. And Njobe called

her Babe.‟

„BABE!‟ Townsend laughed. „BABE killed Grierson now? Is

that your story?‟

„Who is BABE?‟

Jason shrugged. „The computer. Looks like Marilyn

Monroe.‟

Chris frowned. „The voice... yes, a holographic face. I

remember seeing that somewhere ..He smacked the side of

his head. „Oh, come on head, get into gear!‟

„This is all very interesting but -‟

„Shut it, Townsend.‟ Lloyd looked at Ghoti. „What d‟you

think? Could BABE be misused by Njobe to do things?‟

„I don‟t know. How many doctors are trained in

programming computers anyway? I could try hacking into

BABE and see what I turn up with.‟

„Great. Use Cassius‟s quarters. Lisa, go with her.‟

„Can I remind you that Tolland placed me in -‟ Townsend

was cut off as Lloyd reached over and lifted her off the floor.

„I‟ve put up with almost as much as I can cope with from

you, Marianne Townsend. Shut up and put up or go away.‟

Ghoti and DeJoine headed off to get access to BABE, and

so Emile followed them.

The last thing he heard was Chris, Jason and Lloyd

planning their next move.

Townsend skulked back towards the door. This was not going

right. Ever since she had seen those... seen those... what was

it she had seen on the planet? In the city?

Why couldn‟t she remember? And now all Lloyd did was

shout at her and boss the others around. But Tolland had

put her in charge. Marianne Townsend was in charge. Yeah.

Tolland, he‟d know what to do about Lloyd and the others

trying to sabotage BABE.

The corridor leading to Cassius‟s quarters was long and dark.

It smelt... musty. Doggie, Emile decided.

Not that he‟d ever owned a dog. Pets were not considered

the way of the Natural Path. But he‟d known other people

who kept pet dogs.

This corridor just stank worse.

„Here,‟ muttered DeJoine. Ghoti was already picking at the

elaborate alarm system with a couple of pieces of wire. After a

moment‟s wait, it bleeped, flashed green and the door slid

open.

The smell got worse.

„Boy, am I glad I don‟t have to shag him,‟ DeJoine

muttered.

Ghoti went straight to the computer terminal, activating it.

PASSWORD

Ghoti typed in a series of letters and numbers that Emile

couldn‟t follow.

PASSWORD ACCEPTED

„What was the password?‟ Emile asked.

„No idea.‟ Ghoti was tapping at more keys. „I just overrode

the need.‟

A menu appeared. „Bloody keyboard,‟ Ghoti grumbled. „It‟s

designed for paws and claws, not human hands. This is going

to take a bit longer than I thought. Oh for a vocally operated

computer.‟

„No safeguards that way,‟ muttered Emile. „And, after all,

you are all criminals.‟

No one laughed.

Ghoti was typing aggressively now. Emile didn‟t know how

long she had been wanting it to take, but he was impressed

by her speed anyway.

DeJoine kept an eye on the door. „Call up a crew manifest,‟

she suggested. „It might say whether or not Njobe could

reprogram BABE.‟

++SEARCH PARAMETERS++

Ghoti typed in

MEDICAL.

Then

NJOBE, LAUREL.

++NO MATCH++

„You what!‟ DeJoine joined her. „Well... try... try...‟

„Why not try listing the medical staff?‟ suggested Emile.

„Good call,‟ Ghoti said, tapping on the oversize keys.

LIST MEDICAL PERSONNEL

The screen changed and a picture of a young, dark-haired

woman in a white coat appeared.

++MEDICAL OFFICER ASSIGNED TO SCAVENGER SHIP 3

- KRANTEN, DOCTOR AYNN. TRANSFER DETAILS FROM

CAL‟MED 2 ISSUED. APPROVED BY PRISON SERVICE++

„Well, that‟s not Njobe,‟ Emile said rather pointlessly.

DeJoine clicked her fingers. „Get up a prisoner manifest.‟

Ghoti did so. „There!‟ DeJoine pointed excitedly. „There she

is.‟

„Prisoner Number six. Why is she listed as a prisoner?‟

„I wonder if Tolland knows this,‟ said Emile.

„He must do. He‟s the blasted governor. It‟d be his job to

know.‟ DeJoine pouted. „It‟d also explain why he‟s as rude to

her as he is us.‟

Ghoti pointed excitedly. „Guys, look at this. Laurel

Njobe died three months before this journey began. See the

date!‟

Emile leant forward. „Can you access service records? See if

Aynn Kranten is still alive?‟

After a couple of minutes‟ digging, Ghoti pointed to a

report. „She died about a week ago.‟

Emile considered this. „So the ship‟s proper doc dies. A

prisoner dies and is replaced.‟

„Why not replace Kranten?‟

„Because the body and records of a prisoner are easier to

modify? Someone wanted a spy put aboard the KayBee 2 and

who better than the ship‟s medico?‟

DeJoine said she‟d go and tell Lloyd and hurried away.

„This is all supposition, Emile,‟ said Ghoti. „ Good supposition

though. Still doesn‟t tell us who killed Grierson. Your friend

Chris would have seen Njobe leave.‟

„It‟s still all supposition, Lisa,‟ said Lloyd.

„Yeah, but it makes sense to me,‟ said Jason. He smiled at

DeJoine. „I think you‟ve hit the nail right on the head.‟ He

looked at the others. „Look, something is on that planet,

right? It‟s a trap, according to Chris, and we fell into it.‟

„Why did he know it was a trap?‟ DeJoine shrugged. „OK, I

know I wasn‟t there, but indulge me.‟

Lloyd interrupted. „Townsend was affected too. She‟s been

acting strange ever since we found you lot. She also said it

was a trap.‟

„Maybe then there was something down there that both

Townsend and Chris saw. Now up here Njobe‟s waiting for it,

whatever it is.‟

„But we didn‟t bring anything back for her.‟

„I think you must have,‟ said Chris. „Otherwise, why has the

KayBee 2 left orbit?‟

Jason clapped his hands together. „Charley Connor had a

theory about that. Whatever it was, it was put there to be

found.‟

„But why now? Why us?‟

Jason shrugged. „Hey, I‟m playing with the jigsaw pieces,

but I don‟t have a picture to guide me. As you said, Lloyd, it‟s

all supposition. I think Chris here is our biggest clue.

Whatever he was linked up to down there has done

something to his mind.‟

Chris didn‟t reply and they all looked at him.

„Is there anyone on this ship called Baygent?‟

„No. Why?‟

„I don‟t know. It‟s a name I keep thinking of. I thought it

might be significant.‟

DeJoine considered this. „Let‟s get Ghoti to run it through

the computer.‟

The door opened and Emile rushed in. „Ghoti thinks we‟ve

made a bit of an error. She doesn‟t think Njobe‟s

reprogrammed your BABE computer. She thinks that the

computer was preprogrammed before the trip started.‟

They turned to leave en masse, only to find the doorway

blocked by Cassius. „What are you all doing here?‟

Emile couldn‟t stop himself. As usual. „We‟re not your

enemy. It‟s your doctor and the computer. There‟s something

going on.‟

Chris tried to grab Emile, to shut him up, but it was too

late.

Cassius grabbed Emile. „How do you know this?‟

„Ghoti,‟ he choked. „She‟s accessed your computer ter-‟

Cassius dropped Emile. „No! You‟ll kill Brutus!‟

He turned and bounded away.

„C‟mon,‟ yelled Chris. „He‟s part of it. With Njobe and BABE!

They were talking together!‟

The group all ran after Cassius.

„Come on, beautiful computer. Tell me what Njobe is looking

for.‟ Ghoti was carving her way through the electronic

information with ease.

Just like the old days, she was slicing into the core‟s

memory, bypassing every conceivable virus, password and

code. Occasionally she clapped at her own fortune, grinning

like she hadn‟t grinned in years.

„This is fun. F-U-N!‟ She tapped furiously. „C‟mon BABE,

give me your secrets.‟

++BAYGENT APOTHEOSIS++

„What the hell is that BABE?‟ Ghoti typed.

MORE?

++UNAVAILABLE++

„Think, girl, think. Of course!‟

ARDETHE

++JITHII++

„Now what the heck do you suppose a Jithii is, Ghoti?‟

And someone broke her neck, her back and smashed her

head into the screen of the computer, shredding her skin

with glass.

To ensure she was dead, the body was held in place as a

few hundred volts coursed through it from the machinery,

and was then released.

It lolled back, the skin blistered and smoking.

„Where‟s the cat gone?‟ asked Blummer.

„I don‟t know,‟ snapped Ryne. „I‟m trying to work out why

the course the pilot‟s programmed into the navigation console

isn‟t what it should be.‟

Blummer came and checked. „In fact, lad, it‟s in totally the

opposite direction to Central and the PS.‟

„No, really, Blummer? Like I hadn‟t worked that out for

myself? It may interest you to know that I‟ve been locked out

of any override protocols.‟

„Come again?‟

„I, and probably you, no longer have any control over this

ship, Blummer.‟

Blummer sat heavily in a chair. „I knew that cyborg pilots

were a bad idea.‟ He moved to his own set of flashing lights

and switches, but they made no sense to him at all. „I don‟t

like this, Ryne, lad. I‟m going to contact the governor.‟

Ryne put a hand down on Blummer‟s arm. „Is that wise?

He‟s got a bit of a thing about protocol. We don‟t want to piss

him off, do we?‟

„BABE?‟ yelled Blummer. „BABE, what‟s going on?‟

There was no reply.

Ryne activated the communicator. And it exploded in front

of him.

„Great. Now we‟re cut off from everyone else.‟

Blummer slowly got up. „Keen on regulations, lad?‟

„Nope. Never. You?‟

„Not at all. You thinking what I‟m thinking?‟

„They could drum us out of the service for this, Blummer.

You‟re due to retire soon. You could lose your pension if we‟re

overreacting.‟

Blummer sat again. „But are we?‟

Ryne sighed. „OK, suppose we break cardinal rule numero

uno. We walk down to the main part of the ship and go see

Tolland. If there is something wrong, he might be pleased

that we‟ve told him. We can‟t get in contact. He might be

wondering why we‟re not going to Central.‟

Blummer nodded. „Good point, lad. Or he could have

instructed it. In which case, my pension is a goner. Wiped.

Deleted. Zapped.‟ He looked very downcast. „And who‟ll feed

Smokey then?‟

Ryne shrugged. „It‟s got to be your decision, Blummer.

You‟re the boss.‟

„Oh thank you, Ryne, lad. Play by the rules when it suits

you, eh?‟

Ryne sat as well. Neither of them knew what to do.

Smokey the cat had given up chasing mice, rats and moths.

There was something else on the ship. He could sense it.

Something... something that cats had to investigate. Part of

their duty when looking after their human Feeders.

It was a long way away, though. Down in the forbidden part

of the ship. One of the human Feeders had refused him food

for a day when he had last ventured down that path.

But these new „things‟ needed investigating. Smokey could

sense them there, waiting. They were giving it off in waves.

Anticipation. And evil.

Smokey‟s fur rose.

Whatever was now aboard this ship, it was his duty to

protect the Feeders from it.

Cassius was just a few paces ahead of the others when he

leapt forward into his room.

From behind, Emile could already see that Ghoti was

beyond help, but before they got any further, Cassius turned

on them.

„Brutus! You fools. You‟ve killed Brutus!‟ And he shoved

them aside again, going back the way they‟d come.

Jason let him go, raising a hand to stop the others. „I think

it‟s too late for Brutus.‟

„Oh cruk!‟

They all turned to see Townsend staring from the other end

of the corridor at them. And at Ghoti‟s body.

She turned and fled.

„Let her go,‟ said Lloyd.

Chris was gripping the side of his head.

„Are you OK?‟ asked DeJoine.

Chris nodded, but his face said exactly the opposite.

„Lights,‟ he muttered. „Going off in my head like fireworks. I

can feel something there, something familiar about all this.‟

„Deja vu?‟ asked Emile.

„No. No, more like there‟s something on this ship that I

recognize.‟

„Me?‟

Chris managed a smile. „No, Jason. Oddly enough, not you.

Something deadly, something dangerous.‟

Lloyd came out of the office, shaking her head. „Poor Ghoti.

She didn‟t stand a chance.‟

„Who did it? I mean, Emile, Chris and I were with you two.

And Hallett and Connor are with Njobe.‟

„Townsend?‟ suggested Emile, and Lloyd shrugged. „Could

be. But I can‟t see why. And she did rather look as horrified

as the rest of us.‟

„Yeah, but you said she‟d been acting weird since you were

on the planet,‟ DeJoine pointed out. „Who knows? Maybe it‟s

an act.‟

„My money would have been on Cassius if he hadn‟t been

with us.‟ Lloyd waved a hand back at Ghoti. „Whoever did

that to her was very strong.‟

Jason suddenly swore. „We now know that Njobe and

Cassius are up to something. And we‟ve left Hallett and

Connor with them.‟

„But they‟re safe, surely,‟ Emile said. „I mean, they‟re in

comas.‟

„I don‟t think anyone is safe with Njobe.‟ DeJoine stared at

Ghoti. „Five minutes ago, she and I discovered that, and now

look at her.‟

Laurel Njobe had been a real Daddy‟s girl. Daddy and

Mummy had worked very hard in the fuel-stack store of their

colony. Each day the twelve thousand colonists depended on

Mummy and Daddy‟s work to keep them heated, fed and

comfortable.

Mummy and Daddy never really complained, even though

they must have known that the stacks were second-hand

when the colony was established. Surely they must have

realized that the safety measures and certificates were

dubious, if not outright forgeries. But still, for twenty-three

years, they had worked hard in the stacks, and, as a reward,

they soaked up the cancerous emanations until it began to

tell on them.

The colony doctors were most surprised when Daddy fell ill

and died within two weeks. They couldn‟t explain it. After all,

the company that had supplied the stacks was a vast,

profitable, system-wide conglomerate. It wouldn‟t sell dodgy

goods, surely.

Mummy died a year later, ostensibly of the same cancer.

Young Laurel, ending her medical degree on Terrill‟s World,

returned home embittered and angry.

Her family had been taken from her, and she had the

means to pay the conglomerate back.

So she did. She got a job with them, and over four years

worked up from lab assistant to chief pharmacist with their

medical labs.

Then she sent a coded warning to all the suppliers of

foodstuffs. Around six hundred and fifty tonnes of

dehydrated soya now contained a mutanagenic self-

replicating E.-coli- based virus. Anyone eating the stuff would

die. Simply heating it or adding warm water would cause the

viral fungus to spore.

All the conglomerate had to do was publicly accept

responsibility and pay recompense to those who had got

cancer from their badly maintained fuel-stack systems. Or

their families if they had died.

It all seemed terribly simple, terribly efficient.

Laurel Njobe had forgotten one major factor. The

conglomerate did not care. Her virus claimed eighty-one lives

before she told them how to counteract its effects.

Then she tried to run, but under the System

Administration, criminals did not run far.

She was caught and sentenced immediately. Life at Kamp

Kolossus, a huge concrete bunker built on an airless moon of

Sirius VII.

Then, after eight years, she met „the Dragon Man‟ as the

other inmates called him. He was a strange individual – no

one knew exactly why he was there, although rumours from

rape, murder, drugs addiction through to real crimes such as

mind-wiping, genocide and defrauding whole planetary banks

littered the rumour-filled corridors of Kamp Kolossus.

Njobe was instantly attracted to the Dragon Man - he had a

large fire-breathing dragon tattooed on to his back – and

before long they were regular sex partners.

„Do you want to escape?‟ was the pillow talk of one night.

„Yes,‟ she replied without hesitating. „Anything to get me

back out there, attacking the corporations and conglomerates

which are destroying our lives.‟

Which was the kind of driven, compulsive answer he clearly

wanted. All she had to do was agree to help his people first. A

quick job using the medical skills and her computer skills.

„I don‟t have anything other than rudimentary computer

skills,‟ she said.

„That is not a problem,‟ he replied. „You can learn.‟

The breakout was easy - maybe the Dragon Man had fixed

it with the guards. In fact the route to the supply ship was so

uncomplicated it could easily have been a trap.

And for a brief while, she thought it was. Everything was

just too easy. But who would do this to her? And why? Even

to the conglomerate she had tried to destroy, she was pretty

inconsequential.

The ship had taken off, with Laurel Njobe smuggled aboard.

She suffered the g-forces but survived them. She had enough

oxygen to keep her going for the three-day trip back to the

world of Hoss, where the Dragon Man‟s associates would

meet her.

Everything was fine until the ship exploded in space and

Njobe died.

Except she didn‟t. She awoke from her nightmare

somewhere else, somewhere that smelt of antiseptic.

Somewhere that was bright and quiet and busy and calming.

And the Dragon Man was with her. Smiling.

„Everything is just fine,‟ he said. „We‟re just making sure

you can interact with the computers and with something

else. Something very special we need you to communicate

with for us.‟

And she had begun screaming.

Of course, that was some time ago. Now it all made sense

to her. Now it was as the Dragon Man had promised and very

soon she would be back at Central, ready to resume her

vendetta against the big money-making greedy capitalists of

the system.

She was currently standing in the secondary room of her

medical area, Charlene Connor‟s comatose form lying on a

gurney beside her.

A cable snaked out from behind her left ear and was

attached to a wall socket beneath a small access panel.

Hovering in front of her was the holographic face of

BABE, blowing kisses and winking pointlessly while saying

nothing.

Njobe was nodding to herself as she downloaded more of

BABE‟s data. She knew about Ghoti‟s hacking (surprisingly

successful - that ought to have been foreseen and Ghoti

killed or transferred elsewhere) and she knew Cassius was on

his way.

She also knew that Jason Kane was here to collect Chris

Cwej. She now understood everything and the part everyone

had to play in it.

And now she even understood why it had been necessary

for Grierson to die.

She unclipped the cable from her neck port and it whizzed

back into the access panel.

She placed her hands on Connor‟s forehead, trying to

ignore the sight of burn marks on her palms from when she

had smashed Ghoti into the terminal.

Cassius dashed in. „Brutus? Is Brutus all right?‟

„You have not kept your side of our bargain,‟ BABE said

quietly. „You let the women use your terminal. Who knows

what they have learnt? Your job was to keep them away from

us once these two were in our custody. You have jeopardized

the entire mission.‟

Cassius rounded on the hologram. „I did not want any part

of this! You have coerced me into being dishonourable. Into

betraying everything Brutus and I stood for.‟

„You are redundant, Cassius,‟ said BABE. And suddenly

Brutus‟s life-support systems switched themselves off.

Brutus gave a short cry, and her eyes snapped open.

„Cassius?‟ she breathed. And died.

Njobe pulled one of the gurneys towards her. „Eenie meenie

minee mo,‟ she chanted. Njobe lifted the patient‟s right hand

and touched the back of Cassius‟s hairy neck with it.

Beside her, the comatose woman moaned and stirred.

And although Njobe could not see the internal effect on

Cassius, she had a good idea of what was happening. She

imagined Cassius‟s brain being enveloped by a strange alien

life form that seeped through his brain, attaching itself to

every neuron within, dominating his mind. His will. His

personality.

Njobe smiled at BABE. „With all that has happened, I

suspect we need his strength to protect us right now more

than we need her.‟

She wheeled Connor back and replaced the gurney next to

the one on which Hallett lay.

Governor Tolland had spent the last fifteen minutes

straightening up the items on his desk after that vile teenager

had knocked everything on to the floor. What a stupid way to

make his point. So typical of today‟s youth. They needed a

good boot camp. Conscript them all, have them serve in the

Auxies for a while. That‟d straighten „em out.

Where was that Rimananee woman. He needed... well,

relaxation. To work some of the stress out. A good massage

followed by something a little more physical. Yes.

„Computer, where is my new Missy, eh? Where‟s Ghoti

Rimananee?‟

But there was no answer.

This was all getting frighteningly out of hand. One minute

he was governing a scavenger ship, admittedly up to his neck

in dreadful female convicts, but they had a job to do and so

far had been doing it. The holds were already filling up with a

good set of bonuses for him.

Now he had a headless corpse, an independently acting

computer, no communication with his flight crew and three

strange men to deal with.

„It‟s not right, is it Guppy?‟

The fish, obviously, did not answer.

There was a chime at the door and then it opened.

„It is customary to wait until -‟

„Stuff it, Tolland,‟ snapped Townsend. „We‟ve another

problem. Rimananee‟s dead. Murdered. You must call for

help.‟

Call for help? What the hell was this blasted stupid woman

going on about?

„Military men and governors don‟t call for help at the first

sign of trouble, Townsend. No, we try to sort it out. Call for

reinforcements as a last resort, not at the first hurdle. That‟s

what separates humanity from the jumped-up Johnny

Natives we help educate. We show them how to stand on

their own two feet. Lead by example. Our ways will never lead

forward again if we give in with the initial problem.‟ Good

grief, this girlie would never be a leader. At least Lloyd knew

how to lead.

„It‟s like Guppy and Matilda, you see.‟ He wandered towards

the fish. „Their lives would have been a mixture of hunter and

hunted. They could just give up, wait for the rest of the shoal

to protect them. But no. It‟s in their nature to turn and face

the enemy. Watch out for the whites of their eyes and then

strike back. Superiority through strength of character as well

as strength of ability. That‟s what gave us power, Townsend.

And that‟s what‟ll give it back to us now these wars and

plagues and factionalists are being ended.‟

Tolland turned around to deliver his final word on the

matter but the room was empty.

Then the lights dimmed, the bubbles in the fish tank

stopped bubbling, and he just knew that his door would

again be locked shut.

However, worst of all, in the corner, once again, the power

to the safe was off. And this time all the blasters were

missing.

Jason dived forward, just as the door to the medical area

began to slide shut. It was an instinctive movement - as soon

as the corridor lights flickered, he guessed that BABE was

shutting down the power again.

Chris was beside him in an instant, standing over him,

helping pull the doors back.

„Good... team we make,‟ he puffed.

„As always, Chris.‟ Jason grimaced at the strain, but turned

his head back. „Anyone else care to assist?‟

Lloyd was there instantly and between the three of them,

they wrenched the door open enough.

There was a shorting sound and a flash from the wall

where the door slid back.

„I think you broke it,‟ said Emile.

„No, really? Oh dear.‟ Jason let the door go and slid back

from between Chris‟s strong legs. The door stayed open.

Lloyd went in straight away, fists balled in case she met

resistance. But there was none. The room was empty.

Chris looked in. Strange to think just half an hour or so

back, he had been listening to Njobe, Cassius and BABE

conspiring. Now he was with these people he had to trust

were his friends, hoping to stop them doing whatever they

were doing.

Stopping the Jithii.

„Jason?‟

„Yeah?‟

„What is a Jithii?‟

„No idea. Why?‟

Chris sucked his top lip. „Because it‟s what Njobe‟s trying

to find.‟

„How do you know?‟ asked DeJoine.

„It‟s here. In my head, somehow. I just, well, know.‟

Jason was beside him in an instant. „On that planet, you

were wired up to something. I wonder if it could be

responsible for putting information in your brain.‟

„That might account for the loss of memory,‟ Lloyd said.

„Like a mind-wipe, but only partial.‟

„Mind-wipe?‟ Emile had not heard of that.

„Nasty trick,‟ said DeJoine. „Once favoured by the harsher

Kamps. Originally called the Keller Principle - they‟d bury

your own personality and memories, retarding you. They

could ship you out to some worker colony where you‟d spend

the rest of your life working away, unaware that you were

once a criminal.‟

„Unaware of just about anything, actually. Including your

own name, more often than not,‟ added Lloyd. „It‟s outlawed

now of course.‟

Emile was rummaging through some cupboards. Lloyd

asked why and he explained he was looking for some

chemicals. „If we could make stink bombs or something like

that, we might distract them for a while. Enough to rescue

Connor and Hallett.‟

„No need, „Meel,‟ said Jason. He was in the secondary room,

where Hallett and Connor were on their gurneys. „Just find a

stimshot.‟

Chris found one beside his old bed. „This do?‟

Jason administered a small dose to each woman, while

DeJoine kept a wary eye out for Njobe or anyone else.

Hallett awoke first, smiling when she saw the others.

But when Connor awoke, she stifled a scream. „Grierson!‟

„She‟s dead,‟ said Jason, holding her tightly.

Very tightly, Emile thought. Benny wouldn‟t like that.

But Connor struggled a bit, almost pushing him away. „No,

you don‟t understand,‟ she cried. „We‟ve got to -‟

„Shut up!‟

They turned as one, back towards the room they had come

in from.

DeJoine was standing there, a blaster aimed at her temple,

held by Townsend. Another was in Townsend‟s belt.

„You‟re all infected. I saw them. I saw them down there.‟

„Saw what, Marianne?‟ Lloyd took a tentative step forward,

but a sudden squirm from DeJoine stopped her. Townsend

pressed the blaster muzzle harder against her head.

„You‟re all against me now. I can see that. But I know the

truth, you see.‟

„Marianne, whatever happened on the planet has upset

you, I can see that. This is the time we should join together.

Be a team.‟

Townsend nodded, but her eyes were darting everywhere,

making sure no one was getting closer. Her other arm,

wrapped around DeJoine‟s throat, squeezed tighter, as she

reached up to her own hair, twisting it through her fingers.

„No. No, that‟s what they want!‟ she hissed. „Can‟t you see

that, Siobhan? They want us together, here and now. That‟s

the trap. We had to find him and them.‟ She was looking at

Chris. „He‟s the cause of it all.‟

„In what way, Marianne?‟ asked Chris. „Please tell me what

you know. I need to find out the truth.‟

Townsend shook her head which, as she was still holding

her hair, nearly caused her to throttle DeJoine. She released

the girl, shoving her towards Lloyd, and ran her now free

hand through her hair again and again.

Emile could see that the hand holding the blaster was

shaking.

„I don‟t know!‟ Townsend sounded desperate. „But they‟re

here, that I do know.‟ Movement distracted her. „Stay where

you are,‟ she shrieked.

It was Jason, helping Connor off the gurney. The woman

was tired and almost dropping to the floor.

„Please, Townsend,‟ he said. „Charley needs some medical

help. Let me find another stimshot to revive her. She saw

what happened to Grierson. Maybe she can help clear this

mystery up, eh?‟

But Emile could see that wasn‟t going to convince

Townsend. She was too far gone. „No. No, that‟s what you

want, isn‟t it? To get me off my guard. Well, Tolland placed

me in charge, so this is my show. I say what happens.‟ She

shoved the blaster in their direction again and yelled loudly.

„I say who lives and dies, OK?‟

„OK,‟ said Chris. „That‟s fine. We just need to talk. Tell us

what you saw, all right?‟

Townsend nodded. „They flew. Black. Riding the air

currents. They hadn‟t got a shape, they were sort of not

there. Solid but... but transparent. I tried to follow them, see

where they went, but then they‟d vanished. All I could see

were Grierson and Hallett waiting for me to come back. But I

couldn‟t because I knew they were watching. These... these

things were watching me. Waiting. Don‟t you see it? It‟s a

trap. They wanted us - you - to bring them aboard this ship.

To escape. To kill me because I saw them - I knew what they

could do. It‟s me they want, just me!‟

Townsend burst into tears, dropping the blaster.

Chris was beside her quickly, hugging her, letting her sob

on to his shoulder. „Hey, it‟s all right, OK? It‟s fine.‟

Great. Emile decided. Jason gets one girl and psycho Chris

gets psycho Townsend.

Lloyd took the opportunity to move past them, subtly

kicking the blaster towards Emile, and began hunting

through the cupboards, looking for stimulants.

Hallett moved towards Townsend, easing her away from

Chris.

„Marianne? It‟s Jay. Jay Hallett. Are you OK?‟

„Jay?‟

„Yeah, it‟s me. Listen Mari, everything‟s going to be just

fine. Trust me, OK?‟

„Jay?‟

Hallett placed her hand on Townsend‟s forehead. „Yeah,

just fine.‟

And Townsend started screaming unintelligibly, shoving

Hallett away. „No!‟ she screeched. „No! No! No!‟

Hallett just sat there and sighed quietly. Then her head

exploded, showering everyone in blood and tissue.

DeJoine screamed as Townsend stopped.

And Hallett‟s headless corpse flopped on to the floor,

soaking the white tiles in fresh red blood.

Townsend looked up and smiled, straight at Chris.

And something inside his head flashed white and he

remembered almost everything. „Oh shit,‟ he said quietly.

„The Jithii. There are two of them.‟

9

A BIG SURPRISE

Dayl Laratt was getting heartily sick of running around after

deans, rectors, professors, doctors and assorted lecturers

(guest and otherwise). Just the once he had been in the Snail

Mail Room for the entire uni when a crystal arrived for Dr

Winston.

Ever eager to improve his history grades, Dayl had rushed

over to her rooms with the crystal. Ever eager to increase his

already impressive physique, which she had long since

realized was where Dayl‟s true strengths lay, and thus keep

him away from her classes, Winston had given him a package

to take back to the Snail Room.

Old Jy‟mli‟n the Pakhar attendant had realized that Dayl

was faster and stronger than his own legs and slipped the

youth a few shillings every morning as beer money in

exchange for delivering anything marked „urgent‟.

As most people using Snail these days were doing so only

with urgent packages, it rather meant Dayl was kept very

busy, very fit and with no time to spend his beer money.

Today he had just delivered another crystal to the rector of

Garland College, a taciturn woman too young to be a real

professor and too moody to be a real lecturer. Dayl

considered it part of his duties as unofficial post-room boy to

make notes of which people he considered good enough for St

Oscar‟s. Professor B. Summerfield certainly failed his every

expectation.

„Miserable bitch,‟ he murmured as he came away from her

door, the crystal left outside.

Just because she‟d been having a shower (at four in the

afternoon?) when he knocked.

„This had better be good,‟ she had yelled.

„Just Dayl Laratt, Rector. With another crystal for you.

Same POO as the last ones.‟

How was he to know that was bad news? Most people

wanted to know the Point of Origin of their packages. But the

stream of verbal abuse that greeted him from the other side

of the door was unnecessary. OK, he could cope with the

„You‟ve dragged me out of the shower just for...‟ with little

problem. But the words used to describe the sender, what

the crystal probably said and where Dayl could, apparently,

put it were wholly unnecessary. And unbecoming of a rector.

He‟d have words with Professor Follett, Summerfield‟s head of

department.

And he could do with some extra archaeology grades.

Mind you, he decided he‟d really like to meet this man who

not only upset Summerfield so much but was apparently

capable of having sex with himself while simultaneously

chewing excrement.

Anyone that could ruffle her that much had to be worth

meeting.

Be calm, Benny. Stay calm and talk rationally, because

shouting and screaming won‟t help either of you.

She gently tapped on the door to Irving Braxiatel‟s rooms.

He would obviously be in - he always was. Bernice assumed

he worked sometimes, but every time she‟d ever gone looking

for him, he‟d been there. Reading. Writing. Or, better still,

sipping some exotic wine from some unnamed vineyard

elsewhere in space. And probably time as well.

„Come in, Benny,‟ he called.

How did he always do that, as well?

Pushing open his door, she saw him seated in his high-

backed leather armchair, a tumbler of whiskey ready for her,

a saucer of milk on the floor under the ornate table.

„No Wolsey?‟ He sipped on his usual sweet white wine.

„No. He‟s taken refuge atop my Professor Nightshade figure.

We had a... er... disagreement as to how many layers of

Jason‟s flesh I was going to remove with a white-hot scalpel.‟

Braxiatel nodded, as if this was a conversation about

growing vegetables or painting window frames.

„What has he done this time?‟

By way of an answer, Bernice tossed him a crystal. „I left

my reader in my rooms. In pieces. Joseph will have a hell of a

job finding all the components. And the components of the

components.‟

„I hear rumours that some of the porters are going on

strike. I suspect Joseph is the ringleader. You might like to

try to make life easier for him.‟

She gave him a look that clearly said Joseph‟s artificial

feelings were not uppermost in her mind and the subject

should be swiftly dropped.

As a result he tugged his own datapad out of a drawer and

slotted the crystal into it.

A full-size Jason shimmered into focus.

„Hi, Benny. I hope this gets to you about a day after I‟ve

zoomed in and back out of your exciting existence in

university-land.

„If it does, then I‟m probably out of thumping range,

which‟ll be just as well, as I‟ll have stolen something that you

probably didn‟t know I knew you knew existed.

„If you get my drift.

„No doubt, you know all about the recent discovery of

Ardethe. Or whatever. And the disappearance of the AMS

team sent there. And no doubt you‟ll be planning your own

trek, especially if that fool Braxiatel has anything to do with

it. God, he‟s a pain in the arse, always convincing you to do

stupid things.

„Anyway, as the champion of doing stupid things, I feel I‟ve

got involved with some people I probably shouldn‟t have.

Trouble is, I don‟t know exactly who they are. In fact, I

wouldn‟t have bothered if they hadn‟t said two words to me.

„But more of that later.

„They‟ve asked me to investigate something called the

Baygent Apotheosis and told me that you‟d been given the

details of where to find it. Whatever it is. All I knew was that

it had something to do with this new planet near the

supposed Ardethe site.

„Benny, I really think it‟s going to be dangerous. That‟s why

I couldn‟t tell you about it until now - I had to stop you from

coming and if I‟d told you why you wanted that information,

you‟d have been packing your trowel before I‟d finished

speaking. And, yes, I know you think you can face any kind

of danger but the people behind all this are, I think, very

dangerous players. God knows if I‟m going to get out of it.

„And the reason I‟m going, apart from a hefty cash reward,

of course - I‟d hate you to think I‟d changed my ways that

much - is that the person they say who is on this planet and

who can help me find this Baygent Apotheosis (whatever that

is) is an old friend of yours. And mine - a rarity indeed.

„Chris Cwej.‟

The hologram vanished, leaving Bernice gazing at Braxiatel.

„Did you know anything about this?‟

Braxiatel shook his head. „But we know who Baygent is. Or

rather, was.‟

„Yeah, the man who set up the Knights of Jeneve. The

leader whose descendant they believe will one day return to

lead them to victory. Why do I suspect that this Baygent

Apotheosis is some kind of weapon?‟

Braxiatel shook his head and drained his wineglass.

„We know what the Baygent Apotheosis is, actually. It‟s

listed in many of the texts.‟ He got up and rummaged

through some books on his shelves, finally pulling out a big,

blue, leather-bound book.

„I love books,‟ he said. „So much better than discs, crystals

and all the other soulless devices we have to read today.‟

„Yes, Irving, I know. And they last longer and smell nicer

and have better-resolution pictures and can I please know

what my stupid ex-husband is about to die for? Or, knowing

the Knights, is already dead because of?‟

Braxiatel gave Bernice the book, opened at the right page,

and she started reading.

„Oh, my God,‟ she said almost instantly.

When she finished, she closed the book slowly, a shade

whiter than before. „Can they do it?‟

Braxiatel nodded. „I imagine so. If Baygent‟s people set it in

motion three hundred odd years ago, I see no reason why it

shouldn‟t still be running now.‟

Bernice sighed. „We ought to try to find them.‟

„You yourself said we could cause more trouble by doing

just that. I think we should wait a while. Oh, and Benny, who

is Chris Cwej?‟

„An old friend. You met him. At my wedding.‟

„Which I haven‟t been to yet, I know. I‟m rather looking

forward to that.‟

„Yeah, well, when you get there, tell my younger self not to

marry Jason. Life would be so much easier then.‟ She relaxed

in the chair. „I suppose we can do nothing except sit and wait

to hear from, or about, Jason now.‟

Braxiatel concurred.

„Chris Cwej, eh?‟ murmured Bernice. „Now that would be a

welcome sight.‟

10

BEAT THE CLOCK

„Run!‟

It was a fairly reasonable response to having a second

headless corpse at your feet, spraying blood and other ooze at

you, yet Emile was still surprised that the rest of his friends

agreed.

Chris in fact led the way, with Lloyd almost dragging the

staggering Connor after her. Jason was right on their heels

(naturally) while Emile and DeJoine brought up the rear,

Emile throwing back a final look at Townsend, kneeling in

the blood, her green suit soaking it up.

She hadn‟t moved since Hallett had died and it crossed

Emile‟s mind that for all her antisocial personality, they had

rather abandoned Townsend to her fate.

„It‟s too late for her,‟ DeJoine insisted, yanking Emile back

into reality. „Chris says we should try to get to Tolland‟s

office.‟

„He‟ll have guns, presumably,‟ Chris called back.

Lloyd stopped running, and the others almost careered into

her.

„It‟s OK,‟ Jason noted. „No one seems to be following us.

Yet.‟

„Chris, you do say the most stupid things sometimes. This

is a scavenger ship. We‟re all convicts. Do you seriously think

there would be guns on board?‟ Lloyd smiled. „Ever the

optimist.‟

„Townsend had a gun. Or two,‟ put in Emile.

„The blasters from the planet, remember,‟ Lloyd replied.

„Emile, I take it you picked up the one I kicked to you?‟

Emile tried to put on a brave face as the memory of her

doing exactly that flooded back. All he could say was

„Whoops.‟

Jason gave a resigned sigh. „You are the worst partner I‟ve

ever had. Sometimes. Anyway... wouldn‟t Tolland have one -

being ex-colonial and all that?‟

A look passed between Lloyd and DeJoine, then DeJoine

added, „He really had you fooled, didn‟t he? Remember I said

we‟re all criminals? Well Tolland‟s no different. Now the

Administration are closing down the frontier stations and

expanding into the colonization programme, people with

careers like his are finished. And an ex-colonel with a native-

subjugation record like his just an embarrassment the

Administration can live without. They‟re treated like war

criminals. After the massacre on Sha 4 he instigated, they

stuck him out here out of harm‟s way. No, he hasn‟t a gun,

either.‟

They continued moving, Jason taking charge of Connor.

„Look,‟ he said, „we‟ll catch you up. Charley‟s in no fit state to

run.‟

Lloyd stared at Jason hard. „If anything happens to her...‟

„It won‟t.‟

Emile almost recoiled at the strength of Jason‟s answer.

And he believed that Jason really would take every

precaution with Charley. Would he have done the same if it

was Benny? Did he let her get into trouble too often? Didn‟t

he make sure she was safe and was that why they split?

Because Jason didn‟t care enough about her?

„Quit daydreaming, „Meel, and get after the others.‟

Emile realized Chris had led Lloyd and DeJoine on. „Will

you be... ?‟

Jason grinned, reassuringly. „Hey, we‟ll be fine. Go on,

partner. Keep an eye on Chris. I don‟t think he‟s as well as

he‟s pretending.‟

Emile nodded. „Jason. Are we going to get home?‟

Jason‟s eyes lit up in a way Emile hadn‟t seen since they

had first crashed on the blue planet. He was enjoying all this.

„Yeah, „Meel, I‟ll get you home. That‟s a promise.‟

„You live for this, don‟t you? Excitement, danger, the

challenge. You love it all.‟

Jason shrugged. „I guess. But I don‟t go looking for it willy-

nilly, you know. It just kind of happens to me.‟

„Yeah. Right.‟ Emile suddenly grabbed Jason‟s hand and

shook it. „I don‟t share your confidence, Mr Kane. This is just

in case anything happens to either of us. Or both. I want to

say “thanks”. For bringing me.‟

„„Meel, I‟ve got to get you back in one piece. Can you

imagine what our friendly professor of archaeology would do

to me if you went home in a three-by-six crate?‟

„The same as she‟d do to me if it was you in that crate and

not me.‟ Emile managed a smile. „See you later, partner.‟

Chris was getting more flashes to his past. More pieces of the

jigsaw were falling into place about his life. And why he was

here. Dragons. It was all about dragons. And this Baygent

person.

And Roz. Who was Roz? Jason had mentioned her. Or

maybe it was a him. No, Roz was a her. He knew that

somehow. So why wasn‟t she here with him? That felt...

wrong.

„Here we are, boys and girls,‟ Lloyd said as they reached the

locked door to Tolland‟s office.

DeJoine tried the chime but it was dead. „Computer must

be out,‟ she said, and started thumping on the door. „Tolland!

Tolland! Open this door!‟

Emile panted up behind them. „What‟s the problem?‟

DeJoine kicked the door. „The old fool won‟t open the door.

It‟s jammed.‟

„Or computer-locked.‟ said Chris. „BABE‟s locked us out

and him in. He‟s irrelevant to the plan.‟

„Plan? What plan?‟

Chris had surprised himself. „I... I haven‟t a clue. I don‟t

think I have anyway.‟ He rubbed his face. „This is getting

bloody frustrating.‟

„Tell me about it.‟ Lloyd joined in thumping on the door.

A voice came from inside. „Stop it! It won‟t work. The

computer lock‟s broken. The system‟s off.‟

Lloyd stopped kicking. „Tolland! Tolland! It‟s Lloyd. Njobe‟s

the killer, Governor. We‟re trapped out here and we need to

get into your office for safety!‟ There was no reply. „She‟s not

going to spare you, dammit! Tolland!‟

DeJoine added her penn‟orth. „Tolland! Tolland, you

bastard! Open this frigging door!‟

„Hang on. It‟s opening. Chris watched as, inch by inch, the

door started to pull open, until the women added their

strength and it started to slide back faster.

„We need it to shut again,‟ Chris said. „Don‟t fuse it like I

did the medical one!‟

Nodding, Lloyd pushed DeJoine and Emile through the

small gap. „You next,‟ she breathed.

„No, you,‟ said Chris and he shoved her in.

The door started to shoot back, but Chris grabbed it just in

time. He could see two more pairs of fingers grab it from the

other side and slowly it inched open again and he was able to

force his way through, hearing a satisfying thud as it closed

behind him.

Tolland was sat at his desk, nursing sore fingers from his

initial attempt at opening the door. „I object to this,‟ he

muttered. „It‟s not appropriate for you to use the governor‟s

office as a hideaway from whoever is chasing you. Stupid

games and pranks are -‟

Lloyd smashed her fists on to the desk in front of him,

making him jump a noticeable few inches away. „Tolland -

we‟re here to talk about far more important things than your

former glory. There‟s something alien out there. It‟s killed

Grierson and Hallett, possibly Townsend. Njobe and the

computer are up to their tits in it and I‟m not sure if Cassius

is on our side or not. Oh, and Brutus is dead. I think that‟s

everything. Now, what do you think?‟

Tolland stood up, adjusting his tie, and ran a hand through

what little hair he had. He was trying to look calm and

efficient. He was trying to save dignity in the face of adversity.

Emile didn‟t know whether to laugh at him or sympathize

with him.

„I think, Lloyd, that you are a waste of space and time. Just

because I replaced you with Townsend -‟

„She‟s got nothing to do with this! Oh, for God‟s sake, get

out of cloud-cuckoo-land and think! We‟ve a killer or four on

board and all you‟re doing is blabbering on and -‟

Tolland waved a finger warningly. „I‟ve warned you before

about your attitude, Lloyd!‟

Chris stepped forward. „She won‟t have an attitude for you

to dislike if you don‟t listen to her. And if she has, maybe

you‟ll soon be too dead to listen.‟

„Who the ruddy hell are you?‟

„Governor Tolland, my name is Chris Cwej. I think I‟ve been

used by these creatures - I think they‟re called Jithii - to

bring them aboard.‟

Before Chris could continue, there was a thumping on the

door.

„Oh, my God, they‟ve come for me!‟ wailed Tolland. „Lloyd,

do something!‟

DeJoine and Emile tried to ply the door back and it moved

just a fraction. Another two sets of fingers joined in and

Emile was glad his hunch was right. It was Jason and

Connor. They almost fell into the room, Connor looking a lot

more awake than before.

„Sorry we took so long,‟ Jason said breathlessly. „Cassius is

out there. On the warpath.‟

Tolland had regained what little composure he had. „Who

said you could burst in here, Kane? I mean, you may not

actually be one of my prisoners but you can‟t just

„Belt up, Tolland!‟ snapped Lloyd. „What do you mean,

Cassius is out there?‟

„Just that. He must have spotted us and followed us to this

room.‟

As if to underline this, a massive paw-print indentation,

accompanied by a loud thump and a growl, became a new

feature of the door.

„My office is being invaded by mad women, pirates and

Grutchas! Will you all please go away! Guppy and Matilda

don‟t like loud noises.‟

„He‟s lost it,‟ muttered Emile to Jason.

Another growl, further away, suggested Cassius had given

up. For a while at least. „He‟ll be back,‟ DeJoine said gloomily.

Jason took charge. „Mr Tolland. The original instruction to

go to that planet, where was it sent from?‟

„System Administration Central, of course. The Prison

Service department.‟

Jason snatched Tolland‟s datapad off his desk and began

punching buttons. Tolland started to protest, but a filthy look

from Lloyd silenced him.

He nodded at the readout. „Your last orders and therefore I

guess your original orders came from coordinate reference

eight-two, Sector eight.‟

„And that, Kane, is where you‟ll find SAC.‟

Jason shook his head. Still working. „Oh, I doubt it,

Tolland.‟ He smiled. „Oh, look. SAC. Coordinate reference six-

seven, Sector three.‟

Tolland was astonished. „So what‟s at reference eight...

whatever it was?‟

Jason tried something else, then smiled. „The blue planet.

It‟s where we all met for the first time. Your orders to come

here came from that planet in the first place, routed through

BABE.‟

„Stupid ruddy computer! Why didn‟t it tell me?‟

„Because it‟s part of whatever‟s going on here,‟ said Chris.

„Now I know where I recognized the voice from! I heard it on

the planet. Does its holographic face resemble a blonde

woman?‟

„Marilyn Monroe, a film star, actually,‟ said Emile. „She was

really popular a few hundred years ago. She was murdered

because she was shagging some Earth president or

something.‟

„Why am I not surprised you knew that?‟ Jason was still

using the datapad for information.

Tolland snatched it away. “That is Administration property.

Kindly do not abuse it.‟

Jason sighed deeply. „I am using it to try to save our lives,

Governor. If you don‟t mind?‟ He held out his hand, but

Tolland shoved the pad in his drawer.

„No.‟ He looked at Chris. „You seem to know an awful lot

about all this, Mr Cwej. I thought you‟d lost your memory.‟

Chris nodded. „I had.‟ He sat on the edge of Tolland‟s desk,

trying to ignore the outraged look he got from the governor.

„But it‟s starting to come back. These Jithii, they‟re artificial

life forms. They‟ve been programmed to do something, look

for something.‟ He tapped his own head. „It‟s locked in here,

everything we need. I just can‟t bloody access it.‟

„Well, things have been coming back slowly,‟ said Emile.

„Maybe the rest will.‟

„Yeah, and while we wait for Chris to break through

whatever conditioning that planet, or these Jithii things, gave

him, we sit here and die. I think not.‟ Jason looked at Lloyd.

„You‟re the boss. What d‟you see as our options?‟

Lloyd regarded him quizzically. „Oh, I‟m leader am I?

Thanks.‟

„Actually,‟ put in Tolland, „Townsend is leader. I appointed-‟

„Belt up, Tolland,‟ said at least three people. Emile knew

one was Lloyd but wasn‟t too sure about the others.

„So, these things enter our bodies, via the nervous system,‟

Chris said suddenly. „They‟re gaseous but then solidify once

attached to the cerebellum. They then feed off the brain,

absorbing the personality entirely, controlling the host. Like

parasites.‟

DeJoine started to say something, but Jason stopped her

quietly.

„Don‟t. You‟ll break his concentration.‟

„They learn everything about the host, effectively become

them. Then, when they‟ve finished, they move on to another.‟

Lloyd nodded. „So they got into Hallett and Grierson. Poor

Jeni. Then, once they were finished with them, they moved

on to someone else.‟

Connor gasped. „It was in me - I know that now. Goddess,

it‟s like someone just switched my memory back on. Hallett

was crushing Grierson‟s head with her hands. I tried to stop,

but when I touched Jeni... everything went blank, and I woke

up with you lot. But no... there was something. There was!‟

„Easy, Charley. Take it slowly.‟ Jason threw a look to Chris,

who smiled back that he was fine. His memory was

returning.

„But it left me - I was temporary. It needed strength.‟

„And went into Cassius,‟ finished Chris. „Yes, it would do.‟

He looked up brightly. „Jason, they are living creatures. The

whole area under that planet was habitable, wasn‟t it?‟

„Well, yes.‟

„And nothing seemed to affect the Jithii when they got into

Hallett and Grierson.‟

„I see what you‟re trying to get at, Chris, really I do.‟

„Well I don‟t,‟ said Emile.

„Chris is wondering if they need oxygen to breathe like us,‟

put in Lloyd. „Can we space them?‟

„You‟d be certainly killing Townsend and Cassius,‟ said

Chris. „I‟m not sure we can go along with that.‟

„Hey, if it‟s them or me, I‟m afraid I side with survival every

time.‟ Connor looked around at the others. „Oh, c‟mon!‟

„Charley, that‟s a big risk. The Jithii was inside you but you

survived.‟ Jason tried to look sympathetic. „I mean, you

wouldn‟t like it if you were spaced the moment we thought

you were infected.‟

„Hey, firstly you didn‟t know I was. Secondly, I was

comatose rather than trying to put my paw through a

reinforced steel door and thirdly... I... I don‟t have a thirdly.‟

Lloyd tried to make light of it. „Well, I‟ve always threatened

to space Townsend. Here‟s my chance!‟

„So, it‟s just revenge is it?‟ Tolland clearly thought he‟d been

quiet too long.

„Oh, no,‟ replied Lloyd. „No, Governor. I‟m thinking

carefully. For all my dislike of her, I‟m not really that keen to

kill her. It‟s a tough decision. Of course, it‟d be easier if it was

you infected.‟

„Why?‟

„I‟d space you without a second‟s thought!‟

„Right, that‟s it. This is my office. You can all leave. Go on.‟

„If we go out there, Governor,‟ said Emile reasonably, „we‟ll

die. This is the only room big enough for all of us with a door

a Grutcha can‟t get through.‟

Tolland reached into his drawer, and Emile assumed he

was going to give Jason back the datapad. To be reasonable.

To be responsible for those under the protection of his

command.

Instead, Tolland produced a third blaster, Jason‟s – which

he had been forced to hand over when they had arrived - now

repowered. „You will leave my office. I shall send a distress

signal to Central and they will send a rescue ship.‟

„Bearing in mind you don‟t even know where Central is,

Governor, you‟ll forgive us if we don‟t hold out much hope.‟

Jason waved the others back towards the door but stood his

ground.

Tolland threatened him directly with the blaster. „You have

been a constant source of irritation since you arrived, Kane.

I‟ve got through many successful years of colonial

management, dealing with subversive elements like you. But

Oliver Tolland understands his duty. Understands what it

means to take charge. I shall ask the computer to send the

message.‟

„But BABE is non-operational, Tolland,‟ Lloyd reminded

him. „Hell, it‟s probably behind all this.‟

„I know my job, Lloyd. I understand my place in life. I lead.

You follow. Simple, really.‟

„Was it that simple for Ghoti?‟ shouted Emile. „I saw the

marks on her neck! You forced yourself on her, didn‟t you?

Used her. What kind of duty is that?‟

„Emile, I don‟t think that‟s going to help,‟ hissed Chris.

But Tolland was smiling. „Each has his place, boy.

Rimananee was mine, simple as that. Inferior species,

survival of the fittest.‟

„In what way was Ghoti inferior, Tolland?‟ Emile was seeing

red. „Because of the colour of her skin? Her gender? Her

social standing? What makes you better?‟

„This does.‟ Tolland aimed the gun straight at Emile. „I

didn‟t get where I am today by listening to politically correct

upstarts like you, boy. Hard graft, strong work. A sense of

humour. Of knowing one‟s place. And now my place is

behind this desk, and yours is out there.‟

„Dying?‟

„If need be. As I said, survival of the fittest.‟

Jason and Lloyd wrenched open the door, and one by one

they slipped out.

Emile made sure he was the last. „The Goddess knows,

Tolland, I‟m not perfect. I make mistakes, I‟ve hurt and

offended people. But at least I can say my existence so far -

and hopefully for the rest of my life - will never be as twisted

and futile and as pathetically wasted as yours.‟

He waited to see if Tolland shot him, but the older man did

not. Instead he just raised one eyebrow. „If you were one of

my lot, boy, I‟d shoot you dead for backchatting me. But

when we get back to Central, if you have been shot by me,

goodness only knows what further trumped-up charges

they‟ll lay at my door. Get out, boy. You wouldn‟t last five

minutes on the frontier. Where there‟s real work to be done

by real men.‟ He gave Emile a look of dismissal and then

turned to his fish. „There, there my darlings. Did the shouting

get too much? Poor you.‟

Emile lost it and yelled louder. „Call yourself a governor?

We‟ve a killer brain-eater on board, some of us are dead and

all you want to do is talk to your wretched fish! Do you sense

a problem with your priorities, Mr Tolland, or are you just

bloody stupid?‟

Tolland turned back to look at Emile, slowly. „I know my

priorities, boy. To my service. To my people. I do as I see fit.

Remember that.‟

With a curse, Emile heaved through the door, and Jason let

it go.

Emile‟s heart was pounding, and he was trembling quite a

bit. He wanted to cry but, again, not in front of Jason,

„Next time I‟m being threatened by a madman with a gun,

remind me to drag you up in front of him. Then you can talk

us out of it.‟

Emile let out a deep breath. „I‟ve buggered a lot of this up, |

haven‟t I, Jase? I mean I forget to pick up guns, I open my

mouth without thinking. I... well, I‟m sorry.‟

Jason smiled. „You‟re you, „Meel. I learnt to accept that

when we took off from Dellah. You should try doing the

same.‟

He indicated down the corridor, where Chris and the

women were waiting. „Let‟s go, partner.‟

Njobe was staring at a monitor screen. Flashing up were

head-and-shoulder shots of a variety of people. Over two

hundred and fifty were in the database, according to the

counter in the corner

„And a perfect match still hasn‟t been found?‟

In the corner, Townsend stood, vacantly staring. BABE

shimmered beside her.

„Negative,‟ said the computer. „Over three hundred years,

many subjects have been traced. A number of these have

been actually tested.‟

A picture of Chris Cwej appeared. „There‟s our boy,‟ Njobe

said. „Is he the one?‟

„The DNA is close but not perfect. However, regardless of

that, it was right to capture him and implant the knowledge

in his mind. Even if he is not the one, he carries the secrets

within him. He can control the Jithii.‟

„You might have told me there were two of them. I thought

Grierson was the only carrier. We are supposed to be working

together.‟

BABE said nothing, so Njobe prompted it. „BABE?‟

„Governor Tolland is attempting to send a distress call to

the Prison Service at Central.‟

„Can you block it?‟

„Probably. However, it is an unnecessary risk to leave the

possibility there that he could be successful.‟

„I‟d be amazed if he knew how to operate a transmitter, let

alone the frequency for Central.‟ Njobe smiled, and then

looked over to Townsend. „Go and make yourself useful,

Marianne.‟

„I have unlocked his office door,‟ BABE announced.

Silently, Townsend left the medical area, leaving both her

blasters behind.

Njobe returned to the screen, and the image of Chris Cwej.

„The Baygent Apotheosis. Excellent.‟

„We need to access BABE‟s core,‟ said DeJoine. „Erase the

program completely.‟

„Yeah, bet it‟ll let us do that with no problems.‟ Jason

grimaced, but then nodded. „Nevertheless, it‟s worth a try.‟

Connor grabbed his arm. „I can do it easily. We just need a

major port.‟

„What‟s on offer?‟

„Tolland‟s office. The pilot‟s module. Or Njobe‟s medical

area.‟

Jason sighed. „Great. We have either a long walk with little

time, or we face Dr Crippen in her lair or Wild Bill Hickok in

his.‟ He put a hand on Connor‟s shoulder. „You decide.‟

„Cheers. You‟re right about the walk. And Njobe is an

uncertain variable. At least we know Tolland‟s potty. Maybe

we can play on that.‟

„You can‟t be serious, Jase!‟ Emile was horrified. „I mean,

you heard what he said to me. You can‟t just turn around

and ask to be let back in and dismantle BABE. He‟ll go nuts.‟

„Option Four is?‟

Emile couldn‟t think of one. DeJoine grabbed the boy‟s

shoulder, pulling him back slightly. „Let Jason and Charley

do that. You and me, we‟ll take the long way round and head

for the pilot‟s module. See if there‟s anything we can do

there.‟

Unseen by Emile, Jason mouthed a thank-you at DeJoine.

Chris looked at Lloyd. „Looks like we get to visit Dr Crippen

- whoever she is.‟

Oliver Tolland stared at the datapad before him. He inserted

another chip, and this time the hologram was of him on

military service during the great wars of „53. There he was,

working for Spinward, fresh out of military college on Io,

preparing for life in another system.

He changed crystals, this one showing him as a colonial

manager in a rainforest. Beside him, a group of local

Johnnies watched as he stood over the dead Braggaht which

he had bagged. How magnificent the head had looked above

his desk on the plantation. Of course, ruddy Johnny Native

claimed the Braggaht was some kind of sacred beast, but

Johnny Native, given his way, would claim every blasted

animal, tree and insect was sacred in some way. Had to get

them out of that sort of mumbo-jumbo.

Another crystal, another colony. Then another and another.

And even a couple of that witch, Maureen. Her inexplicable

rejection of him had driven him here. Yes, it was all her fault.

And now look at him. Governor of a squalid little scavenger

ship, as much a prisoner as the blasted women. Some of

whom were dead including, thankfully, that ungrateful

Rimananee Missy. The fat boy could never make any of those

charges stick.

Stupid boy.

Stupid prisoners.

The door slid open and it took him a moment to remember

it wasn‟t supposed to. The dent made by Cassius quickly

reminded him of that.

So did Townsend, standing there, glaring at him.

„Lloyd‟s trying to assert herself over you, Townsend. I gave

you every chance, you know. Every opportunity. But they

said you‟d gone to work for the enemy. Is that so?‟

Townsend said nothing. Just stood there, watching.

„Can‟t abide that, you know. Treachery. Basest thing, you

know, very low.‟ He moved away from his seat and desk and

towards the fish tank. The blaster was resting there, beside

it. Another few paces and he could hold Townsend off if she

tried anything.

„So, tell me, girl. Which is it? You working for me or the

killers? I mean, sorry about Rimananee and... and...

whatever the other ones‟ names are. Were!‟

Townsend took one step forward.

Tolland brought up the blaster. „Another movement,

Townsend, and I‟ll fire. I will, you watch me. Can‟t have

discipline going to pot, you know. You have to understand

that what I do, I do out of altruism. Out of ensuring the

common good.‟

Townsend smiled and stepped closer.

And Tolland aimed at her head and fired.

But nothing happened.

Of course! He‟d taken the chargers out when Lloyd had first

presented them to him.

The ones Townsend had stolen earlier were useless.

And so was the one in his hand.

Damned silly thing to do, really. Should have been

prepared. Should have ruddy well kept one step ahead of the

enemy.

Should never have let Maureen walk out on him. It was all

her fault, really.

„The door‟s open!‟

Jason shrugged. „Either Tolland is suddenly super-strong

or BABE let him out.‟

„Or someone else in.‟

Jason looked at Connor. „Thanks for that, Charley. Remind

me to say something encouraging to you someday.‟

„You can. Right now.‟

„What?‟

Connor whispered in Jason‟s ear what she wanted.

Thirty seconds later, Jason was staring at the open

doorway, but his mind was elsewhere.

„Well, OK, I suppose. How long for?‟

„Six months. It‟ll be long enough for me to get out of the

Administration, to another system. It‟ll provide me with

enough documentation to make the journey so much easier.‟

Connor pointed at the door. „Shall we go in and see what

Tolland has to say?‟

„Ready when you are, ma‟am.‟

They sprinted down the rest of the corridor and into

Tolland‟s office, both diving in different directions, in case he

tried shooting them.

Jason counted to five and lifted his head, and saw Tolland

staring at him, mouth open, eyes wide apart in surprise.

And Guppy and Matilda swimming around his submerged

head. Guppy actually nipped into the gaping mouth but

quickly came back out again.

„Who the hell dumped him in there?‟

„Who knows, but he certainly didn‟t go in voluntarily.‟

Connor was on her knees in front of the tank, whose glass

was cracked and in danger of shattering, sending water and

fish, as well as Tolland‟s body, on to the floor. „There‟s a lot of

water here. He tried to fight.‟

Jason could see red weals around his neck, where it had

been held under the surface. Human-sized marks, rather

than paws and claws.

„These Jithii seemed to have done our Marianne the power

of good. She‟ll never need steroids again!‟

Connor moved to Tolland‟s desk, and started pulling away

some access panels. „Here, Jason! Access Point two, it says.

Welcome to BABE‟s brain. Handy, in case Tolland needed to

bugger it up.‟

„So why didn‟t he?‟

„What? Tolland damage service property? Far too frightened

of what Central would do to him.‟

„I take it you know what you‟re doing, Charley.‟

„Yeah, why?‟

„Because I haven‟t a clue. I‟ll leave you to it if that‟s all

right.‟ He scanned the room for Tolland‟s blaster, but there

was no sign. Townsend had probably added it to her

collection. He also noted that she had been going through his

safe, drawers and paperwork, looking for something, no

doubt.

„Who the hell are you, lad?‟

Emile looked at the overweight man before him, wearing an

ill-fitting uniform and eclipsing a thinner, much younger

man, similarly dressed, who was trying not to be too easily

noticed behind.

„Emile Mars-Smith. Are you the pilot?‟

„Gracious no, lad. He‟s a cyborg. I am Stan Blummer, the

co-pilot.‟ He described himself in such a way that suggested

being the co-pilot was far better.

„And I‟m Lucien Ryne. Navigator.‟

„I‟m a guest and this is Lisa DeJoine. She‟s one of your

prisoners.‟

A look passed between the two company men, then they

smiled. „Been a revolution has there?‟

Emile and DeJoine filled the two men in, noting with some

satisfaction the horror on their faces as the story continued.

„Cassius and Brutus gone, eh? Well, bad luck on them, eh,

lad?‟

„Oh, aye, Blummer. Never liked Grutchas much. Reminded

me of my old mam‟s poodle, Rathbone. Never liked that

either. Always scratching for fleas.‟ Ryne offered his hand to

Emile and DeJoine. „Well, if there‟s a revolt going on, vive la

revolution.‟

„You what?‟ Blummer frowned, not comprehending.

„Something my old mam always said, Blummer. I don‟t

know what it means either.‟

„By the way, Emile, lad, you seen a grey one-eyed cat in

this here vicinity?‟

Ryne nodded. „Yeah. He‟s got a red eyepatch on. Looks dead

cool.‟

Emile sighed. These two were going to be hard work.

Njobe was watching complex DNA structures float around her

in a holographic array.

„The one to the left is Baygent‟s DNA, the one on the right is

the DNA for an accountant on Locus Alphae called Del

Ravella. It is a ninety-two-per-cent match. Ravella‟s currently

being traced by the Knights.‟ BABE‟s face was weaving in and

out of the DNA images. Njobe flicked a switch and Ravella‟s

DNA vanished and was replaced by another.

„This is the DNA of a loader at the Caspian shipyards, Mark

Tarrant. His is only an eighty-eight-per-cent match.‟

„How long have the Knights been searching for the correct

DNA?‟

„Three hundred years,‟ said a voice from the doorway.

Njobe swung around, smiling. „Christopher. Good to see

you back. Oh hello, Siobhan, come to see what‟s going on?‟

„Is he right?‟ asked Lloyd. „Have these Knight people been

looking for something for three hundred years?‟

„Ask him, Lloyd, not me. I‟m just a humble assistant.‟

Chris walked across the room, staring at the DNA. „It‟s all

come back to me now. The information was placed into me

on the planet, as a safe guard while the Jithii were released.‟

„That‟s right. The Jithii are programmed to trace the

receptacle for Baygent‟s DNA.‟

„Could one of you fill me in on who this Baygent character

is, please?‟ Lloyd shrugged. „Hey, I‟ve not had my head filled

with images and info.‟

BABE hovered in front of her but, before it could speak,

Chris nodded. „I recognize you. You were on the planet.

Monitoring me.‟

„That was my purpose. The Knights of Jeneve programmed

me to ensure your safety.‟

„How long was I down there?‟

Since the previous host died. The Jithii weren‟t ready then -

it was an accident. Your DNA was a close match, so they

found you and put you into the casket, uploading the

information into your mind.‟

„And wiping the real Chris Cwej‟s memories out,‟ said Lloyd.

„That‟s evil.‟

BABE looked back at her. „Baygent‟s death necessitated

these acts. He secretly established a set of databases that

would eventually be filled with all knowledge - scientific,

cultural, literary, artistic... everything that he considered

represented the best of humanity. He entrusted its

completion and protection to the Knights of Jeneve. They

have maintained a DNA sample taken from Baygent, which

he had himself passed on to both his son and an unknown

heir, who would grow up separately, and spread the DNA

through their progeny until one day a true Baygent could

again be made President of Earth, and whatever empire it

may or may not have, supported by the Knights.‟

„Yes, that‟s the one-sided view,‟ muttered Chris, „but of

course my brain absorbed the rest. Over the centuries, the

Knights have detoured from that original noble, if rather

flawed and romantic, ideal. Now, they exist as a tiny secret

service. Rather than preserving knowledge for the general

good, they‟ve become more interested in suppressing it to

keep the colonies and corporations weak. This knowledge will

be used as a weapon by the Knights as and when they‟re

ready to put their new Baygent in authority. If they find him.‟

„And they think you carry this DNA?‟ Lloyd was trying to

take this in.

„Him and two hundred and forty-nine others so far.‟ Njobe

laughed. „So you see, he‟s rather precious to us.‟

Chris looked at Njobe. „And what is your role in all this?‟

„The Knights need someone to control the Jithii. Their task

is to search out the hosts. They were genetically engineered

for this task, over the last few centuries. Boiling in vats. Or at

least simmering, you might say, over all that time. Now they

are ready. Of course, they will need to propagate, to spread

out. Hence, they take over their victims, and when those

hosts breed, they pass on their own seed, thus the newborn

already has a Jithii inside it, searching for the new Baygent.‟

„What was wrong with Hallett and Grierson? And, for that

matter, what was wrong with me?‟

BABE swerved over to him. „They could not use you - you

carrying ninety-four per cent of the potential Baygent DNA.

Their task would be to find you, if you weren‟t already there.

The Knights placed you there because you were the nearest

match they had found, and with the knowledge implanted

into your head, had you turned out to be Baygent‟s heir, you

would have every bit of knowledge necessary to continue

their work. Grierson was too young, unlikely to mate for

another few years, but was the easiest to enter on the planet.

Likewise Hallett, although the Jithii discovered an incurable

cancerous genetic disorder in her. She would have died

within two years. Townsend is a better host.‟

„And am I Baygent‟s heir?‟

„Are you hell,‟ laughed Njobe. „No, your DNA, which had

been... what did you call it, beppled? Yeah, well whatever.

And you have limited developed psi powers as well, which

Baygent never had even a hint of. It was that which confused

the Knights back then. BABE and I have informed the

Knights of today that you are expendable. That was my

second task – to remove that knowledge from you if you were

not required.‟

Lloyd walked around the DNA holograms. „But that‟ll mean

wiping your own memories and personality.‟

„Not at all. Didn‟t your little spies tell you what they learnt

from BABE‟s databanks in Cassius‟s room?‟ Njobe suddenly

tugged hard at her left ear, ripping a large portion of her face

off and revealing gleaming metal underneath, a red eye

glowing fiercely. „I am a cyborg, linked to BABE, to the pilot

and to the Knights of Jeneve‟s own databases. What little of

Laurel Njobe still exists is kept functioning by circuitry, tubes

and plastic organs.‟ She smiled. „I‟m not entirely sure if

there‟s anything left of Laurel Njobe actually. And I certainly

know I don‟t give a damn.‟

„Why don‟t you host the Jithii then?‟ Chris was trying to

catch Lloyd‟s eye.

„They need living beings to inhabit. Like all parasites,

although they pass into their new bodies gaseously, they do

solidify around the brain. Like having someone build an

annexe on your brain. Both coexisting, basically unaware of

each other until something triggers the Jithii, and wham, the

host will go to all sorts of ends to solve the Baygent

Apotheosis.‟

„Thank you,‟ said Chris quietly. „That‟s what I wanted to

know.‟ He lunged for Lloyd, dragging her to the floor as

Townsend wandered in, aiming her blasters at them. One

bolt of energy blew apart a computer console, causing the

DNA holos to vanish. The other scorched the wall where

Lloyd had been standing.

„Don‟t kill the man,‟ Njobe yelled, her fake skin flopping

from her chin. „I need the information in his mind.‟

Chris kicked out, catching Townsend at the back of her

knees. She dropped, startled, like a stone, and Lloyd yanked

a blaster from her grip, letting off a shot at Njobe.

The astonished doctor recoiled from the blast, staggering

back, so Lloyd fired twice more.

A shower of sparks erupted from Njobe‟s chest and, with a

terrified shriek, she crashed into her medical equipment,

twitching.

Townsend was getting back up, until Chris thumped her

with a medical datapad and she dropped, out cold.

„Kill her,‟ snarled Lloyd. „It‟ll kill the Jithii.‟

Chris aimed the blaster at Townsend.

He aimed.

Roz.

It came back in a massive wave of nostalgia, guilt and fear.

But, above it all, sadness. Roz had been his friend, his

partner. Adjudicators together.

And she had been killed on Valhalla, taken from him.

Townsend, suddenly awake, lashed out with her legs,

twisting around Chris‟s ankles, toppling him away. She

scrambled up, swiping one of the blasters, and fled from the

room.

Lloyd glared at Chris. „Why the hell didn‟t you kill her?

She‟s a Jithii now, not Marianne Townsend.‟

„I... I couldn‟t. I couldn‟t kill like that. It made me think

about Roz. Roz was everything to me and yet I couldn‟t even

remember who she was until now. We were trained to kill,

you know, and here I was, actually considering shooting

Townsend in cold blood.‟ He looked at Lloyd, trying to ignore

the anger on her face. „What kind of person am I? Was I?‟

11

HOW ARE YOU GETTING HOME?

„How‟s it going, Charley?‟

Jason was pacing Tolland‟s office, trying not to look at the

sodden corpse they had shoved into a far corner. Connor, for

her part, was busy tripping wires and trying to reprogram

circuits and chips via a keyboard she had pilfered from the

mess room, which normally told BABE what food they

wanted (provided, of course, it was of a yeast base).

They had seen nothing of Townsend or Cassius. Nor had

they heard from Emile or Chris. Jason was worried by this.

By now Benny would have received the holo he left for her,

detailing his involvement with what was going on here.

Although the group he was working for were paying him

handsomely to deliver Chris, and presumably the data stored

in his head, safely to them, he had been suspicious of them

from the start. Then there was the fact that they knew he had

known Chris Cwej (impossible in this era unless they had

access to records going back - or forward - a few hundred

years). And the Geneva Convention Corp weren‟t anyone he‟d

heard of before.

But Chris had dreamt of dragons. Now, this might have

been an almighty coincidence, but the Geneva Convention

Corporation had a traditional dragon as their company

emblem. And in the same way as he didn‟t believe it was a

coincidence that they found him to locate Chris, he didn‟t

believe that Chris‟s dreams were a coincidence, either.

No doubt when they got safely back to Dellah to drop Emile

off - and explain Charley Connor‟s deal – Benny would say,

„Oh, the Geneva Convention Corporation. Harmless old group

of sad men. You weren‟t in danger.‟ Trouble was, he could

picture, far clearer, Benny gasping and going, „You cretin,

what the frag were you doing getting Emile tied up with the

Geneva Convention Corp? They make the Tzun look like

firework manufacturers.‟

Assuming they got back.

He‟d lost the Mother Fist and doubted that any of the flitters

aboard the KayBee 2 could make it out of the rim and back

into the system proper.

Which meant they needed not only to disable BABE, but to

do it in such a way that control could be regained over the

KayBee 2, to turn her away from whatever destination BABE

had set her on. That meant removing the cybernetic pilot

Connor had talked about, who in turn was controlled by

BABE and linked directly into the ship‟s systems, thus

avoiding, in theory, any chance of escaping prisoners stealing

their own prison ship.

Great. Didn‟t the people who designed these things ever

take into consideration that the biomorphic computer might

go gaga, the crew and prisoners might be attacked by brain-

eating parasites and a couple of space jocks might need to

get home safely?

No. Obviously not.

„We‟re going to have to rely on the flitters, Charley. I can‟t

see any way around it.‟

„Then why,‟ Connor grunted, carefully replacing one chip

with another, „am I bothering to disrupt BABE?‟

„So she doesn‟t kill us in the meantime.‟

„You know, Jason, she could. Very easily.‟

„How?‟

„Cut off life support. We‟d die in about two hours, if not

sooner.‟

Jason thought about this. „Then the Jithii do need

atmosphere to breathe in. Chris was on target. I wonder

There was a flash and a cry beside him, and Charlene

Connor was hurled across the room, shaking violently, her

hands clearly burnt and blistered.

The area she had been working in was protected suddenly

by a laser lattice. It was only a miracle that Charley‟s hands

hadn‟t been severed by the field.

„Naughty, naughty, Mr Kane.‟

Jason didn‟t look up. He knew that BABE‟s face was

hovering above his head. „Why be so savage?‟

„Why not, Mr Kane? You are effectively trying to kill me. I‟m

only answering in kind. If Connor hadn‟t moved at that

moment, I‟d have sliced her head off. Second-degree burns

are nothing to that. I only need two of the women alive, and I

already have Marianne Townsend.‟

Jason looked up to see BABE wink and disappear.

„Lisa DeJoine,‟ he murmured.

Emile, DeJoine and their two new friends were in Bay 2,

alongside the flitter they had taken to the planet.

„It‟ll never get us back home,‟ Ryne said. „These things don‟t

have the range.‟ He had already explained that BABE

controlled the KayBee 2 via the pilot and therefore trying to

get home in her was pointless.

„We could go out as far as possible, send out a distress

signal and hope we get picked up.‟ Emile thought this was a

reasonably good suggestion.

Ryne obviously did, too. Or he realized it was their only

option. „There are three flitters aboard.‟ He looked at DeJoine.

„Are they all working?‟

„As far as I know, yeah.‟

„The four of us, plus who?‟

„Tolland, Lloyd, Connor, Kane and Chris Cwej.‟ She counted

off on her fingers. „Spread over three flitters, that‟s quite a

good amount of life support for all of us. I‟m assuming, by

the way, it‟s too late for Njobe or Cassius.‟

Blummer coughed. „And Smokey. He‟s still here

somewhere.‟

DeJoine sighed. „Look, I‟m sorry about your cat, but we

can‟t really afford to lose valuable time hunting in a ship this

size for something mog-sized.‟

Ryne placed a hand on Blummer‟s shoulder. „Sorry,

Blummer, but she might be right.‟

„Aye, lad. Maybe. But I need to give it a good look. You two

can get the flitters sorted out, can‟t you?‟ Ryne agreed.

„Great. You boy, d‟you know how to operate these flitters?‟

Emile shook his head. „Good lad. Help me go a-cat-hunting,

eh?‟

Emile looked at DeJoine, who shrugged. „It‟ll take about

twenty minutes maximum. If Chris and the others arrive

before then, we‟ll get them away from here. Jason can fly one,

Ryne here can take the second and you, Blummer, will be

needed for this one. Which‟ll be you two and the cat. If you

stay here and die, that‟s your lookout, agreed?‟

„Well get off, don‟t worry,‟ said Emile. „C‟mon Mr Blummer,

let‟s find Smokey.‟

DeJoine watched them leave the bay and shook her head,

climbing into the flitter. „All this for a bloody cat. Madness.‟

She started the powering-up operations. „I said it‟s

madness to try finding cats, isn‟t it Ryne?‟

She waited another couple of seconds, but he still didn‟t

reply.

„I‟ve got a bad feeling about this,‟ she said, just to hear her

own voice.

And looked back out of the hatchway of the flitter - straight

into Cassius‟s canine face, snarling.

Ryne was crumpled by the far wall - he‟d hit it hard and

fast, obviously.

Lisa DeJoine was not a brave woman, she knew that.

Despite her involvement with the street gangs and

troublemakers that had got her convicted in the first place,

she would much rather be at home with a husband, two

point five screaming kids and working weekends in a store or

bar.

She was traditional like that. But of course it had been the

wrong crowd at the wrong time...

Faced with a snarling Grutcha, DeJoine‟s natural instinct

was to scream. She‟d already done so a couple of times today,

so maybe she was all screamed out. Or maybe she was

getting braver, less average.

So instead of screeching her lungs raw at Cassius‟s obvious

determination to attack her, she threw herself into his body,

slamming him aside for long enough for her to scrabble away

and lunge towards Ryne.

He was breathing and -

The door to the bay opened, and she saw Emile wander in.

„Hey, Blummer‟s a big guy and -‟

„Get away from here,‟ she bellowed.

But Cassius dived at her.

A lot of things flashed through Emile Mars-Smith‟s mind at

the moment he saw Lisa DeJoine being mauled by Cassius.

First, that he had left Blummer up an air vent calling for

Smokey, because there wasn‟t room for the two of them to do

anything other than get in each other‟s way.

Secondly, that the Jithii had made no effort to get him,

Chris or Jason. And Cassius had done nothing but throw his

weight around, which tended to make him ask why the Jithii

preferred the women.

And thirdly that if BABE had wanted to kill them all, it

could probably have flooded the ship with coolant or gas or

something lethal, which also suggested that the Jithii needed

their human hosts alive to survive.

But the main thing that went through his young mind was

that, if he didn‟t do something, Lisa DeJoine was going to die

just as Grierson had. Or be a new host for a Jithii, which was

probably worse.

So he grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall and ran

screaming at the Grutcha.

Cassius stopped short of DeJoine and looked up,

distracted. And Emile let the fire extinguisher off in his face,

sending the Grutcha, snarling and yelping, backward, trying

to claw the freezing foam off his skin and out of his eyes.

DeJoine smiled briefly and snatched Ryne‟s hand.

Emile threw the extinguisher at Cassius‟s writhing body,

stunning him further, and helped DeJoine get Ryne up.

The young navigator was beginning to come round and the

three of them made it to the bay doors just as Cassius began

bounding after them.

DeJoine slammed her palm on the door control and the

doors slid shut before Cassius caught up with them.

„He‟ll open it from inside,‟ Emile shouted at DeJoine.

„Sod that,‟ she snapped, hitting another door control.

There was a clang, muted from where they were, but clearly

loud enough for Cassius, who stopped running and looked

backward.

„And just in case BABE has other ideas,‟ DeJoine added,

„stop this, you overgrown scanner.‟ She frantically punched

every button on the door lock randomly so that the command

pathways became overloaded and automatically shut down

until the self-repair systems could run a diagnostic.

The outer doors to the bay immediately stopped opening,

but there was gap enough.

The air inside the bay was shooting out, taking everything

not heavy enough with it. Things that were too big merely

bounced against the doors.

And Cassius slammed into them as well.

Emile knew it had to be horrible, but he was fascinated to

watch. So many holos and comics depicted death by

decompression, in a variety of different ways.

But the reality was a mixture of all of them.

As the pressure around Cassius‟s body vanished, the

internal pressures of that body burst the Grutcha apart. Like

an explosion without any fire.

If there was anything left of him or the Jithii, they were out

into space in less than a second.

„Well, that‟s one less shuttle we can use,‟ Ryne said,

shaking his head to clear it.

Emile gave a quizzical look.

„Well, unless you‟ve got enough spacesuits for all of us,

plus antigravity boots, we can‟t afford to open this door

again.‟

Blummer was in the dark, crawling along a horizontal shaft,

making kissy noises and hoping that Smokey would turn up

quickly. Not just because he knew they had to get off the ship

as quickly as possible but because the shaft was getting

thinner. Unlike his girth.

And also because if any of the old rumours were true,

bizarre alien creatures that ate shaft repair men probably

lived in dark, gloomy places like this.

When Smokey said „Miaow‟ in his ear very unexpectedly,

not only did Blummer yell in fear, but he knocked himself

senseless on the shaft ceiling.

Smokey, not really comprehending why his Chief Feeder

was there in the first place, because of course he wasn‟t lost -

cats never get lost - wandered back down the shaft towards

the light.

The danger to the Feeders had lessened recently, he could

sense that. But there was still danger for him to deal with.

A few moments later, Blummer came to, and, grumbling

madly, began to shuffle backward out of the shaft, hoping

that Smokey had had the sense to go out and not further in.

Chris and Lloyd were pelting down the corridor away from

the medical area.

„Let‟s get to Jason and Charley,‟ she shouted. „Maybe

Tolland has come up with some magical way out of this.‟

„No he hasn‟t.‟ Jason stepped out in front of them, an

unconscious Connor in his arms.

Lloyd winced as she saw the burns. „BABE fought back?‟

Jason nodded. „Any luck your end?‟

Lloyd shrugged. „Mr Conscience here had the chance to

blast Townsend and her Jithii parasite into squillions of

pieces. He chickened out.‟

Jason stared at Chris, who nodded. „Roz,‟ he said simply.

„Chris, what happened to Roz was a tragedy. You can‟t run

from violence all the time because of what happened to Roz.‟

He passed Connor over to Chris. „Now, super-hunk, you carry

the lady. You‟re far stronger than I am. Get her to one of the

flitters. I think they‟re our only way off this ship.‟

Chris nodded and walked away.

After a moment, Lloyd shook her head. „OK, his friend died.

But he‟s a liability, Jason. I‟m sorry.‟

„It‟s his memory. If it was intact, he‟d be fine. When Chris‟s

memories are fully restored, he‟ll be OK about Roz, but right

now, they‟re his strongest memories.‟

„Yeah, OK. But he‟s still our weakest link at the moment. I

don‟t want to be in a situation where we have to rely on him

to save our lives.‟

Jason shrugged. „We might not have that choice.‟

And a chunk of wall beside him melted into slag.

Townsend was just behind Lloyd, firing wildly.

„We‟ll finish this conversation later,‟ he yelled, yanking

Lloyd around the corner.

„Chris,‟ he bellowed. „Chris, get running!‟

They almost collided with Chris, who was standing just

outside Bay 3, staring at a fat man in a Prison Service

uniform, now holding Connor. Chris was hugging a grey cat

with a red eye patch.

„Wolsey,‟ Chris said brightly.

„No, Smokey,‟ said the man.

„I know, but he‟s just brought it all back.‟ Chris grinned at

Jason. „Jason Kane! It‟s just come back to me. Everything.‟

„Party on later, Chris,‟ Jason said. „There‟s a Jithii host

behind us, with a gun.‟

Chris looked at Lloyd. „I‟m sorry about before, but I can end

this now.‟

He grabbed her blaster and ran to meet Townsend.

The last thing they heard was Chris‟s cheerful cry of „Just

like old times, eh, Jase?‟

„No. Not really,‟ Jason said quietly. „In the old times we

survived to talk about it.‟

He hurried them all into Bay 3.

Lloyd and Blummer eased Connor into the back of the

flitter, and she met Jason at the doors. „You take this one,

Lloyd. I‟ll find the others and we‟ll take the other two flitters.

Head back to the coordinates of the blue planet. With luck,

some AMS ship will patrol in the next couple of days.‟

I hope, he added to himself.

Lloyd clearly didn‟t believe it either. „Great. I get Fatso and

a cat. I hope Connor wakes up soon.‟

„Fatso,‟ called Blummer from inside the flitter, „heard that. I

also know something about first aid and will get on with

dressing this poor girl‟s hands.‟

Lloyd almost smiled. „Me and my big mouth. See you later,

Jason.‟

Jason smiled. „Look after Charley, OK?‟

Lloyd nodded. „I won‟t let her down, don‟t worry. You‟ll have

to open the outer doors manually, and then jam them open.‟

Jason got out of the bay and closed the doors. „I hope

BABE‟s otherwise occupied.‟ He watched Lloyd climb aboard

the flitter and seal the hatchway. He opened the outer door,

counting as they crawled apart. „C‟mon, just wide enough for

the bloody shuttle, OK?‟

As soon as they were inside, he smashed the door controls.

BABE couldn‟t override it.

Of course, it‟d be prepared for the next two.

Njobe staggered up, her flesh burnt away, her face now a

charred mess.

But her cybernetic parts were working just fine. „BABE!‟

she demanded. „Status?‟

BABE‟s face materialized, but it was flickering, as if its

power was shorting out. „Lloyd, Connor and Co-Pilot

Blummer have escaped the KayBee 2. Cassius and his Jithii

are dead. Governor Tolland is dead.‟

„What has happened to you?‟

„Charlene Connor disrupted some of my subroutines. I can

no longer control as much of this ship simultaneously as I

could. I cannot store as much information as before. I have

downloaded much into the ship‟s storage databanks.‟

“That was an error, BABE. Concentrate on the flitter bays.

I‟m going to protect Townsend. We need to get her away in

one of the flitters along with Chris Cwej. The others are to

die.‟

BABE flickered for a moment. „Under... understood.‟

„Then understand this, BABE. Seeing as the Knights saw fit

to give you the ability, paranoid as they are, use your self-

destruct system aboard this ship. Set all the circuitry to

overload and ensure that not so much as one molecule

remains to be looked at by the PS Inspectorate. Once I am

safely away with Townsend and Cwej, obliterate everything.

None of our plans or databases can be allowed to fall into

anyone else‟s hands. The Knights have waited too long for

this.‟

„I... I cannot do... that

„Why not?‟

„I would... would die.‟

Njobe snorted. „You, BABE, are irrelevant. All that matters

is protecting the Knights. That is your primary function.

Confirm.‟

Nothing.

„Confirm!‟

„Confirmed...‟

Njobe staggered out of the medical bay.

And the lights on the ship dipped to a dull blood-red,

casting huge shadows everywhere.

„Holy crap!‟ Ryne grabbed his two new friends. „What‟s BABE

doing?‟

„You tell us,‟ suggested Emile, already a bit fed up with

Ryne‟s nervousness.

„Either the hull‟s been breached, which it can‟t have been

because we‟d be dead...‟

„Or?‟

„Or,‟ added Jason as he ran towards them, „BABE‟s just put

this ship on to self-destruct. We‟ve got to use the last two

flitters to get off here.‟

DeJoine smiled weakly. „Problem, we‟ve buggered up the

door encoder to one. At least, the bay‟s useless.

Decompressed.‟

Jason swore. „OK, which one is operable?‟

„Bay one,‟ said Ryne. „Who are you?‟

„Introductions later.‟ He looked at Emile. „How‟s it going,

partner? Can you get these two away from here? Meet Lloyd

and Blummer at the blue planet?‟

„And you?‟ Emile was dreading what was coming next.

„I‟ll find a way. But I need to collect Chris and make sure

the Jithii don‟t escape.‟

„We killed one,‟ DeJoine said.

„Fab. Well done. Now, get going.‟

„I‟m not going without you, “partner”. Benny‟s just as likely

to string me up for losing you, you know.‟ Emile folded his

arms.

„Yeah, you‟re right, „Meel. Let‟s all die together.‟

And he swung his fist into the side of Emile‟s head. The boy

crumpled. „He‟ll thank me one day.‟

Ryne reached down and, grunting with the effort, slung

Emile over his shoulder. „If we get out of this alive, matey,

make sure he loses some weight.‟

Jason nodded. „Good luck.‟

DeJoine tried to smile back. „You too.‟

Jason watched them head for Bay 1.

Then he ran back to the medical area. He needed to keep

BABE occupied.

Chris was facing Townsend, both aiming their blasters at

each other. The red flashing light was making them both look

demonic, underlighting their faces.

„Let me enter your mind, Christopher Cwej.‟ The mouth

moving was Townsend‟s but the voice in Chris‟s head was

alien, ethereal.

It was the Jithii.

„The Knights have other methods,‟ he said out loud. „Why

don‟t you give up? We both know that this isn‟t the end of the

road for the Knights. I have so much information, you could

stop the parasitical life cycle. This is an abomination.

Baygent would have loathed this.‟

„The Knights have programmed us to do this. They have

created us.‟

Townsend suddenly grabbed Chris‟s chin and, before he

could fire his blaster, it was there, in his mind.

Townsend crumpled to the floor, her own blaster bouncing

away.

Feel me, Cwej. Feel my power. Together, we can propagate,

pass the seeds on. Human and Jithii, the perfect combination.

We can find the DNA, begin the Baygent Apotheosis. It is what

we must do. We must go forward, progress, learn. Exist. Move

from host to host. It is our right.

„Yes, but I have a right to survive and exist, too. My right is

as much as yours.‟

Superiority will win, Cwej. With us the Knights have created

the perfect gestalt. We will exist, undetected in the DNA of our

descendants. Yours and this woman‟s. Passed through the

subsequent generations. We will find the true descendant as is

our purpose.

„Yes, all right. You win. I have nothing to live for here. To

strive for. Take me.‟

Chris opened his mind to the Jithii.

Jason picked up a stool and smashed every computer bank

he could find in the medical lab.

„Hope this is keeping you busy, BABE,‟ he muttered. „Come

on, fight back. Fight me. Like you did Charley Connor, burn

me!‟

BABE‟s face pixelled in front of him, eyes wider than

normal.

It looked scared.

He smashed the stool on to another computer.

And BABE‟s face dissolved into tiny coloured blobs, which

faded.

Jason let the stool drop from his fingers, and turned to

run. To find Chris.

Instead he faced a cybernetic human that was wearing the

remnants of a medical officer‟s uniform.

„Doctor Njobe, I presume?‟

She smashed her fist into the wall, buckling it.

„Imagine that is your head, Kane.‟

„I take your point, doctor.‟ He snatched a quick look around

the room. „I appear to have deactivated BABE. Sorry.‟

„Its work was over. This ship is going to go bang in about

five minutes.‟

„You and me together, then. DeJoine should have launched

the other flitter by now. And the third is no good. It‟s in a

depressurized bay area. Sorry.‟

Njobe laughed. A nasty, gurgling sort of laugh. She pointed

at her metallic head with a metallic finger. „Do I look like I

need to breathe oxygen, Kane?‟

„Ah. Good point. Fifteen love, as they used to say back

home.‟

„Game, set and match already, Kane. But rest assured: I

am going to rip your arms off first, and leave you to bleed

everywhere. Just for the hell of it.‟

„Why, Njobe? I see that BABE was working for the Knights,

programmed to ensure both the safety of the Jithii and get

the secrets stored in Chris‟s mind back to civilization, but

why you?‟

„Once the Knights elected this ship as the carrier for the

Apotheosis, they needed someone aboard who could act as a

physical extension of BABE. To interact with the prisoners

and ensure that Cwej was safe. Replacing a prisoner was

difficult, the medical officer far easier. I was necessary to

ensure the help of the Grutchas and aid in the transfer of the

Jithii to more appropriate hosts when necessary. BABE could

have done none of that. It needed a... a human touch.‟

Jason smiled humourlessly. „Yeah, you‟re a real “human

touch”. Mind you, you had all of us fooled. Very well done.

The Knights would have been pleased. What of the Trigan?

What was her part in all this?‟

„To find Cwej. As APS people, he would probably trust

them. One of our agents ensured the destruction of the ship

and crew. However, the Knights had miscalculated how

aggressive the Jithii would be and they killed the two agents.

When the Knights received a communication from the

chamber‟s computers to this effect, BABE and I were

dispatched to retrieve the Jithii. Machine life is far more

reliable.‟

Jason crossed behind a gurney, keeping distance between

himself and Njobe. „And me? Why send me?‟

„You were expendable. As with the two from the Trigan, a

device to bring Cwej to safety - he was more likely to trust a

face he thought familiar than any of the prisoners, especially

with his background as an Adjudicator. One of our agents,

researching Cwej, discovered the link between him and you

and your ex-wife. You were the easier to obtain. The Knights

are not financially bereft and your greed is easier to

manipulate than your ex-wife‟s.‟

„As is my curiosity.‟

„Oh, no. Professor Summerfield is, according to our agent,

far more likely to want to get involved. But she is far more

careful, and could have been a problem. Your need to

impress the professor made you a far more appropriate

subject for exploitation.‟

„Why, thank you, Doc With a sudden cry Jason tripped

backward, and hit the floor, knocking most of the breath

from his body.

„Clumsy,‟ taunted Njobe.

„Nope,‟ said Jason. „Clever.‟

He reached out and scooped up one of Townsend‟s dropped

blasters he‟d spied earlier.

And fired at point-blank range into Njobe‟s face.

Her head was vaporized instantly and he rolled aside just

in time as the body flopped to the floor.

Just to make sure, he blew the torso in half, flinching as

some very human-looking fluids gushed everywhere.

„Funny,‟ he said. „I thought I was going to bleed to death.

You need to see a good doctor, Doctor.‟

And he went to find Chris.

Chris was frowning. Well, mentally at least as he felt the

blackness of the Jithii invade his mind. „You‟re absorbing all

the information about the Knights of Jeneve from my mind.

Why?‟

It‟s safer with the Jithii than with you. I need your mind to

be blank. I will create a new personality for you.

„Dig deeper. Explore the sides of my mind not normally

used. That‟s the best place for you to hide.‟

Yes. Yes, untapped, unexplored un—

„Except you‟re wrong. You see, as Njobe explained earlier,

I‟m a reasonably talented psi. Oh, I can‟t actually use it, but

it gives me the strength to use that portion of my brain,

Jithii. I‟m trained, you see, to avoid hypnotism, to avoid mind

control. That‟s the reason why, when the Knights put their

information in my brain, it couldn‟t wipe it completely. That‟s

why so much of the real Chris Cwej is here. Was there. It

needed a trigger. Sending Jason to retrieve me, in case all

this went wrong, was a mistake. And the Knights aren‟t used

to making mistakes, are they? They thought he would risk

everything for me. They didn‟t realize that “me” was still there

to be rescued.‟

No, don‟t do this... don‟t force the Jithii out. Embrace the

Jithii.

Chris forced himself to stand up. Concentrated on making

his body answer his commands.

The Jithii must live... to host the Jithii is... power...

„No, my right to exist is my power.‟

And the Jithii was gone, expunged from Chris‟s mind.

Straight back into Townsend‟s comatose body.

Chris opened his eyes, raised his blaster and aimed.

„I‟m really sorry, Marianne.‟

He blasted her at point-blank range three times.

Jason smashed open the lockers. Five total-survival suits. He

needed only two.

He grabbed them, humping the oxygen supply on to his

back. „Hope this is enough.‟

When he found Chris, the guy was standing aiming his

blaster at what might once have been Marianne Townsend.

Hell, that must have been difficult. Chris was an

Adjudicator, a policeman, by trade. But killing in cold blood,

that was more Jason Kane than Chris Cwej.

„You OK, Chris?‟ he asked, knowing what a stupid question

it was. „We‟ve about two and a half minutes to get through a

locked door into a depressurized bay and start up a flitter

before this lot goes bang.‟

„As I said,‟ Chris started putting a TSS suit on, „just like old

times.‟

Jason had assumed they would need to spacewalk to the

flitter but the rear doors were closed. Bay 2 was

repressurized after all.

„Lisa bloody DeJoine. Doesn‟t know what she‟s talking

about,‟ groaned Jason. “The door panel is fine.‟ He punched

in the access code Lloyd had shown him when they had first

arrived aboard the KayBee 2 and they had immediate access

to the flitter.

„Let‟s get going,‟ Chris suggested and still in their suits they

ran as quickly as possible into the bay.

„Bugger regulations,‟ Jason laughed, and started the flitter

up without any pre-ignition checks. „If she blows up, well, we

won‟t know.‟

„Gee, thanks, Jase. That‟s a comfort. What about the

doors?‟

„DeJoine was just wrong, that‟s all.‟ Jason operated the

doors automatically from the flitter‟s navcom. They opened.

„See! We‟ve got about fifty seconds.‟

Chris nodded. „Hope it‟s enough.‟

„Hey, I‟m the super space pilot, remember?‟ Jason shot the

flitter forward, just getting out through the doors when they

were wide enough.

They kept going, as far from the KayBee 2 as they could in

fifty seconds.

Eighteen seconds out, they were buffeted as the huge

scavenger ship vanished in a flash of instantly extinguished

plasma.

„That was not fifty seconds, Jason Kane!‟

Jason laughed from inside his space helmet. „Nope. But if

I‟d told you the truth, you‟d have been panicking. Just like

old times.‟

Chris wasn‟t laughing back. He was pointing behind them.

„I don‟t think Lisa DeJoine did get it wrong, Jase. I think we

were helped.‟

Jason turned to see BABE‟s Marilyn Monroe visage floating

behind him.

„I downloaded myself into this system,‟ it said. „I now

control everything.‟

Jason sighed. „Some people just don‟t know when to quit.‟

„How much air in your tanks, gentlemen?‟

„About an hour. Why?‟

But Jason already guessed the answer. „Because this

flitter‟s life support has just died. And so will you. In about

fifty-nine minutes.‟

„You know,‟ Chris said, fingering his blaster, „I‟m getting

awfully tired of doing things to a well-timed schedule.‟

„Are you, Christopher? How sad.‟

„Yes, BABE. I am. I‟m going for a walk outside. I may be

some time.‟

„Me, too.‟ Jason picked up his own blaster. „Full overload,

Chris?‟

„Full overload, Jason.‟

BABE frowned. „You are mad, you can‟t survive outside in

space.‟

„We can. For about fifty-seven minutes. You and this flitter

however, have about, oh, thirty seconds.‟

Jason reached over to the manual lock on the hatchway

and activated it. With a silent burst of the last bits of air

inside the flitter, it shot away into space.

Jason calmly walked out first, Chris just behind him,

attaching a cable from his suit to Jason‟s.

He kicked the side of the flitter, pushing the two of them

away at some speed.

Both managed to turn themselves in time to see their

overloaded blasters explode, erasing BABE and the flitter

completely.

Well, Jason thought, now we‟re buggered.

„What happened?‟

Lloyd shrugged. „I don‟t know. I assumed they‟d found a

way to use the other flitter but it just, well, blew up.‟

Connor, her bandaged hands pressed against the window,

stared at where the flitter had been. „Damn them.‟

Smokey mewed and jumped off Blummer‟s lap and up at

the window. And mewed again.

Used to Smokey‟s bizarre ways, Blummer stared where the

cat was staring. „Ladies, I think you did right to wait around.

Look.‟

And they saw the two space-suited figures floating

aimlessly in the void.

„Mr Blummer?‟ Lloyd smiled.

„Fatso was the name I think you preferred, ma‟am. And yes,

I can decompress the area around the hatchway and yes, I

can retrieve them. Is that what you wanted to know?‟

Lloyd laughed. „Spot on, Stanley. Spot on.‟

12

THIS TOWN AIN’T BIG ENOUGH FOR

THE BOTH OF US

„Hi, this is DNN, bringing you all the Dellah news from the

planet and beyond. I‟m Jake Garrett.

„News fresh in from the outer rim worlds - the re-elected

Admin-Proctor of the System Administration, Lucinda Vrana,

has officially declared the recent Ardethe expedition a disaster

and closed down the department responsible for launching it.

The families of the AMS crew and university students have

been informed that their loved ones are officially declared

Missing, Presumed Dead, and the colleges responsible will be

making claims on their insurance policies to reimburse the

families for their losses. The Admin-Proctor described the

whole tragedy as something she would ensure never

happened again, and that stringent new laws would be

passed to stop potentially ill-equipped similar missions,

although she stressed that there was no accusation that this

particular expedition had been underfunded or skimped on.

„“This has been a tragedy for all concerned. The

Administration must never let it happen again and my Office

will be passing new laws to ensure underfunding and ill-

equipped expeditions cannot be mounted again. Although it

behoves me to point out that, as it was an Administration

Military venture, there is no suggestion that this expedition

was anything less than one hundred per cent efficient.”

„Lucinda Vrana this afternoon.

„Other news just in - System Administration Central has

today announced that it is to revise its procedures over

scavenger patrols following the destruction of the scavenger

ship KayBee 2 three days ago, with the loss of all hands. The

service was particularly saddened by the loss of former

decorated hero Oliver Tolland, governor of the ship. No cause

for the inexplicable explosion has been offered, although

damage-control teams are flying out to inspect any debris they

can locate. The ship was a long way off course and among the

theories being offered by our sources in the service was that

either the Artificial Biomorphic Intelligence had gone awry, or

that the prisoners revolted. If it is the former, it will no doubt

reinforce many recent calls for the computers, or Biomorphic

Artificial Brains — nicknamed BABEs - to be discontinued.

That in itself brings up ethical and moral questions, according

to religious leaders, who claim that AIs are a sentient life form

themselves.

„And that was DNN, bringing you all the Dellah news from

the planet and beyond. I‟m Jake Garrett.‟

Dellah.

Emile Mars-Smith had begun to think he would never see it

again. Never see Benny, or Tameka or baby Jock again.

And here he was, on one of the tables just outside the

Witch and Whirlwind, sipping coffee and waving a fluffy toy

cat at Jock, who gurgled with delight.

Or wind.

Emile wasn‟t particularly up on babies to know the

difference. „Unca Jason-Wason was saved by a puddy-tat like

this, little Jock. And Unca „Meel is going to be nice about cats

for the rest of his life.‟

Tameka smiled. „He loves that toy, „Meel. Thank you for

getting it for him.‟

Emile shrugged. „Yeah, well, when you‟ve been trapped in

underground cities, chased by gas-based brain-eaters,

savaged by a dog-man and fought off a cyborg doctor, you

learn to appreciate things. And, worst of all, I survived

Jason‟s flying, there and back.‟

Emile momentarily closed his eyes as another hand gripped

his and squeezed. „I think you were very brave. I‟m proud to

know you.‟

Emile took a deep breath and smiled, opening his eyes to

look at Scott. „And I‟m glad I know you, too.‟ He waved the toy

cat in Scott‟s face. „Otherwise I wouldn‟t be Unca „Meel to

little Jock here would I?‟

„Morning, youngsters. Any room for a sad old space pirate?‟

Tameka pulled another seat over for Jason.

„Seen Benny since we got back?‟

Emile shook his head. „But she‟ll be here soon. She won‟t

want to miss you.‟

„I‟m not so sure. I half expect that I‟m the reason she‟s not

around.‟

„Well, don‟t flatter yourself, cowboy.‟

Emile couldn‟t stop the grin splitting his face.

„Hiya Professor S. We got back.‟

Tameka and Scott smiled their goodbyes and walked off

with Jock and the toy cat.

Bernice sat down, along with Braxiatel.

The academician coughed slightly. „Well, Jason, you‟ll be

pleased to know that I can find no record anywhere of a

Charlene Connor, Siobhan Lloyd or Lisa DeJoine having ever

landed on Dellah. If such people do exist, and do intend to

stay here, the computers in the university have no records on

them at all. Should they choose to leave Dellah, there will

therefore be no record of them.‟

„Thanks, Irving. Lloyd‟s going home to try to locate her

girlfriend, although she thinks she‟ll have problems with the

authorities there.‟

„Can‟t see why,‟ Emile chipped in. „After all, she‟s officially

dead.‟

„And Lisa?‟ Jason asked.

„Ah, the delightful Ms DeJoine.‟ Braxiatel pointed towards

the Shakespeare Building. „It just happens that the head of

that establishment is never there to do his job, so he needed

an assistant to actually be on site and answer questions. It

will be a great weight off his mind to know that someone is

there.‟

Wolsey appeared from around the comer of the pub.

And Emile watched Bernice‟s face as she saw Chris Cwej

for the first time. Slowly she stood up and then walked

towards him, as if unsure how to greet him.

„Hi.‟

„Hi.‟

„Jason said your memory was playing up. I don‟t know if

you remember me but I‟m -‟

„Benny!‟ Chris grabbed her and pulled her off the ground in

a huge bear hug, kissing her neck. As he put her back down,

she kissed him affectionately on the cheek.

„Missed you, Adjudicator Cwej. Good to have you back.‟

„Thank you, Benny.‟ He offered his hand to Braxiatel. „Good

to see you again, sir. Glad to see Benny‟s in good hands.‟

„The pleasure is all mine, young man. I‟ve heard so much

about you.‟

Chris look confused.

„Don‟t worry, Chris,‟ Bernice said, laughing. „Your memory‟s

fine. Irving hasn‟t actually gone to my wedding yet.‟

„Our wedding, if you don‟t mind,‟ Jason said quietly.

„She keeps saying that when I do go, I should stop it

happening.‟ Braxiatel sat down again, and Chris settled

beside him.

Jason looked down at the table, desperately trying not to

catch Bernice‟s eye. „And would you?‟

Braxiatel looked at them both. „Do you honestly regret your

time together, no matter how brief? How traumatic?‟

Jason looked up, and straight at Bernice. „I might handle

things differently, but no. If I could go back in time, I don‟t

think I‟d pass it over.‟

„Benny?‟

Bernice sucked her bottom lip. „I‟m afraid I really can‟t

answer that, Irving. I just don‟t know.‟ She looked straight at

Jason. „It‟s too soon to rewrite the past. Or prejudge the

future.‟

„And for that reason alone, the answer is no. When I go to

your wedding and they ask that bit about anyone who knows

just cause and impediment, I shall make sure everything is

quiet as a mouse.‟

Chris laughed, until a look from both Jason and Bernice

stopped him. „Sorry. Private joke.‟

„Irving,‟ said Jason. „Thank you for helping the girls. And

Blummer and Ryne.‟

„I gather they‟re going with you,‟ Braxiatel said.

Jason nodded. „God knows what I‟ve done to deserve that

punishment, but they only want to go around the galaxy two

or three times. With luck, they‟ll get bored and go home.‟

„But they‟re dead as well,‟ Emile said.

Jason shrugged. “The twenty-sixth century is full of dead

people walking around quite healthily.‟

„Only in the dodgy circles you hang around in,‟ muttered

Bernice.

„What about you, „Meel? Fancy a spin?‟

Emile looked at Jason. Then at Bernice and Chris. „One

day, Jase, yeah. But right now, I‟ve got some exams to get

through. But please don‟t lose touch.‟

„Well, I don‟t intend making a habit of coming to Dellah.

But here - I got a spare.‟ He gave Emile one of the green

spherical homing devices. „Use it when you want to call me,

OK?‟

„OK, partner.‟

Bernice stood up. „Right, I‟d better see about getting Chris

some rooms here. I‟ll see you all later and -‟

Bernice stopped as a slender woman with cropped blonde

hair slinked towards their table, grinning.

„Hello. Who‟s this?‟

Jason stood up and took the woman‟s hands which, Emile

noticed, were still bandaged.

„Uh, Benny, this is Charlene Connor. My fiancée. She

proposed and I‟ve accepted.‟ A look of apology crossed his

face. „Please don‟t kill her.‟

Document Outline

Front Cover

Back Cover

Acknowledgements

1 SO IMPORTANT

2 PROPAGANDA

3 AT HOME, AT WORK, AT PLAY

4 TRYOUTS FOR THE HUMAN RACE

5 A FUN BUNCH OF GUYS FROM OUTER SPACE

6 THROW HER AWAY (AND GET A NEW ONE)

7 I MARRIED A MARTIAN

8 HAPPY HUNTING GROUND

9 A BIG SURPRISE

10 BEAT THE CLOCK

11 HOW ARE YOU GETTING HOME?

12 THIS TOWN AIN’T BIG ENOUGH FOR THE BOTH OF US