This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author�s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Paw-Prints of the Gods is a sequel to the novel Hollow Moon. You do not need to have read the earlier work to enjoy this latest story, for any salient plot devices are reintroduced and explained wherever necessary. If you wish to read Hollow Moon and the associated short stories (and I hope you do), the ebooks are available from all major online stockists.

The author would like to thank Karen for friendship, wine and invaluable help in proof-reading Paw-Prints of the Gods; Victor for the front cover artwork; and of course Sarah, who despite all evidence to the contrary, still keeps me sane in this big, bad city.

THE CABIN WAS DARK, its inhabitants sound asleep. No one saw the burly yet stealthy figure as he stole through the door, plucked a bag from the floor and quickly retreated.

Outside, in the sweltering heat of the dome, the thief withdrew a touch-screen slate from the bag and switched it on. The scan of their latest discovery was in the list of recent items, but upon looking at the image of the strange carvings he saw the slate�s owner had superimposed twelve lines of text that were all-too familiar:

�The Falsafah prophecy,� murmured the thief. He switched off the slate and dropped it back into the bag. �This is one damn fool student who knows too much.�

RAVANA OPENED HER EYES and stared groggily at the grey shapes at the foot of her bed. The nurses never seemed to stop moving, but it was a silent ballet devoid of all personality and warmth. Yet the rest of her surroundings were no more inspiring, with the only attempt to brighten the white-walled windowless room being the pot of wilting flowers upon her bedside table. Now she was awake Ravana felt the need to make her own presence felt, but when she opened her mouth to speak she found herself lost for words, her mind sinking beneath a weight both heavy and cold as if a wet blanket had been draped over her thoughts.

The thinner of the hazy blurs moved closer and presented Ravana with a small glass of water and the customary daily cluster of brightly-coloured tablets.

�Your medication,� she snapped. Her English was tainted by a harsh Indian accent. Seeing Ravana hesitate, she thrust her hand closer and frowned.

�We must make you well again!� her portly colleague added merrily. She spoke with a sweeter Asian twist, which she then ruined by smashing her fist against an innocent spider upon the wall. �You must take them. They will make you big and strong!�

�Big and strong?� retorted her colleague. �Or do you mean fat and butch like you?�

�Let�s not get personal, Sister Lilith! We�re all professionals here.�

�There�s only one professional here, my dear Jizo,� grumbled Lilith. Still holding out the glass and tablets, she pointedly looked towards the mirror on the nearby wall and regarded her own reflection. �And I�m looking at her right now.�

Ravana hesitantly took the tablets from the nurse�s grasp, popped them into her mouth and washed them down with a gulp of water. The reassuring words of Jizo were hard to accept when the nurse herself stood licking bits of spider from her hand. The few hours Ravana was awake each day passed by in an unchanging haze, with the same dull migraine clouding her thoughts and the same ache gripping her muscles and bones as she lay upon the bed. Every morning, if it was indeed morning, saw a fixed routine of waking, taking medication, a trip to the bathroom, then the interview room and back to bed. It could almost be the exact same day, replayed over and over again in her head. Even the bickering of the nurses and the conversations in the interview room continued to go over the same ground. She had no idea how many days had passed since her arrival, for how and when she got here was part of the gap in her mind where memories had once been.

Her eyes remembered how to focus and the nurse-shaped blobs resolved into two middle-aged Indian women wearing nun-like grey habits and headscarves. Ravana vaguely recalled being told that she was in some sort of church-run hospice, for reasons not fully understood but something to do with not having enough money or the right insurance to be taken to the city hospital. Nurse Lilith had commented on more than one occasion that being ill away from your home world was a risky business in the late twenty-third century. Lilith now waited to take Ravana to the washroom, as she did every morning, though at the moment appeared to be more interested in whatever it was on the computer touch-screen slate in her hands. As far as Ravana could tell it was the same nurses she saw every day. Although their faces were far from memorable, the mean-spirited squabbling was a constant theme.

�Time to rise,� Jizo told her, interrupting her thoughts.

Ravana pulled back the thermal blanket, heaved herself out of bed and cringed as her weight fell heavily upon her weak right arm. She was getting more tired by the day, her hair felt dirty and lank against her face and she was desperately in need of a bath. She was dressed as always in a green smock that would never win any awards for fashion. Shuffling over to the wall mirror, she scrutinised her reflection. A bleary, drawn face stared back; she looked as bad as she felt and certainly a lot older than her sixteen years. The scar on the right side of her face lay vivid against her pale brown skin, the strange silver lines that faintly followed the crevices of the damaged tissue more apparent than ever. With a sigh, she pushed aside a matted length of black hair and turned as Lilith approached.

�Breakfast?� asked Ravana, weakly. She always awoke feeling hungry.

�Later,� Lilith replied, looking as if she did not care less. �Follow me.�

The nurse led her through the door and down a familiar white-walled corridor to the washroom, then waited outside while Ravana relieved herself in the cramped toilet and splashed a little water on her face to wake herself up. Every bare-footed step was painful and her muscles throbbed with the effort of moving bones that felt like fractured lumps of iron.

By the time Ravana emerged from the washroom, she was exhausted and ready to return to her room. The nurse instead led her in the opposite direction, past dozens of other blank doors until they reached one standing open. The routine was so familiar that Ravana did not wait for Lilith�s signal before stepping inside. The nurse did not follow but closed the door carefully behind her.

As Ravana�s gaze fell upon the two figures seated behind the desk, a flicker of both recognition and panic flashed through her thoughts and then fell back into the recesses of her clouded mind. It happened every time, then moments later the figures returned to being nothing more than grey shapes, wearing their habitual hooded cloaks that left their features in shadow. Both had the same curious halting and screeching voice she had decided sounded male. From previous meetings, the only way she had managed to tell them apart was by the motifs embroidered in silver thread upon the red sashes they wore around their shoulders and waists. One had tiny lions upon the scarlet fabric, while the other had stylised symbols of an archer ready to unleash an arrow. The nurses referred to them as the monks, which was as good a description as any.

�zz-raavaanaa-zz,� rasped the one with the lion-patterned sash. The edge of his hood trembled slightly as he spoke. Not for the first time, Ravana jumped as the words emerged like the muted wail of a steel grinder. In her mind�s eye she could almost see the fiery sparks issuing from the speaker�s hidden lips. �zz-taakee-aa-seeaat-zz.�

Ravana hesitantly sat down in the empty chair opposite the two figures, taking care not to look too closely into the shadows of their hoods. Other than the desk and chairs, the room was empty, with a large window behind where the grey monks sat. The enticing view, a deserted strip of coastline beneath a deep blue sky, she remembered being told was Pampa Bay on the moon of Daode. The window was open a fraction and the sound of distant crashing waves drifted in to fill the room with a soothing murmur.

�zz-brootheer-siimhaa-aand-ii-aaree-pleeaaseed-zz,� said the other monk, his buzzing tones identical to those of his companion. �zz-yyoouur-miind-haas-beeeen-shaatteereed-buut-iis-reecooveeriing-weell-zz.�

�Glad to hear it,� Ravana murmured, once she had deciphered the message.

�zz-yyoouur-meemooryyy-iis-aa-coonceern-zz,� intoned the first monk, whom she assumed was the aforementioned Brother Simha. �zz-brootheer-dhaanuus-aand-ii-muust-aask-thee-saamee-quueestiioons-eeveeryy-daayy-zz.�

�zz-haavee-yyoouu-reemeembeereed-hoow-yyoouu-goot-heeree-zz?� asked the other monk, presumably Brother Dhanus.

�Only what I�ve been told.� Ravana was tired and slurred her words.

�zz-whiich-iis-zz?� said Simha.

�I was in a virtual-reality game,� she said slowly. �Gods of Avalon. I reacted badly. The nurses say it was due to an old injury, something to do with my brain. They said I was taken to a doctor and then brought here. To rest while my mind recovers.�

�zz-teell-mee-aaboouut-thee-booook-zz,� screeched Dhanus.

�Book?� Ravana was puzzled, then shuddered. �There were books in the walls, closing in on me. The pages opened and spiders burst out�� The memory made her feel queasy. Her fear of anything with too many legs was not something she was ever likely to forget. �Then I was in bed, being told� something. Everything after that is a blank.�

She paused, disturbed once again by the cloud over her thoughts. It was hard to judge the monks� reaction to what she was saying, but the tilt of their hoods suggested they were listening keenly.

Dhanus leaned forward. �zz-whyy-diid-yyoouu-coomee-too-daaoodee-zz?�

Ravana thought back to the series of events that had led her to Hemakuta, a city on the moon of Daode in the Epsilon Eridani system. She had jumped at the chance to go when the Newbrum Academy band, student musicians from Ascension in the Barnard�s Star system, chartered her father�s ship to take them to the peace conference in the city. The trip was a homecoming of sorts, for she had been born on Daode�s neighbouring moon of Yuanshi, a world split by civil war. She wondered if the peace conference had achieved its aims.

�Where is my father?� she asked. �Where are my friends?�

�zz-yyoouur-friieends-aawaaiit-yyoouu-iin-heemaakuutaa-zz,� Dhanus buzzed softly. �zz-ooncee-yyoouu-aaree-beetteer-yyoouu-caan-jooiin-theem-aand-reetuurn-hoomee-zz.�

�And my father?� This time there was an edge to Ravana�s voice.

�zz-wee-haavee-toold-yyoouu-beefooree-zz,� Simha replied harshly. �zz-hee-iis-faaciing-triiaal-foor-heelpiing-rooyyaaliists-oon-yyuuaanshii-zz. zz-yyoouur-friieends-weeree-luuckyy-noot-too-bee-aarreesteed-toooo-zz.�

Ravana fell silent, sensing the underlying malice in the monk�s words. She had vague memories of a man called Fenris and a young prince who had been kidnapped, but could not remember where they fitted into recent events. When she tried to think about her father�s place in the rebellion and the war on Yuanshi her thoughts were even more confused. Her shoulders drooped and she sank wearily into her seat.

�zz-yyoouu-aaree-tiireed-zz,� noted Simha. �zz-yyoouu-shoouuld-reest-zz.�

The door behind Ravana opened and she turned to see Lilith waiting to take her back to her room. The monks no longer looked her way and instead conversed quietly in the impenetrable staccato language she had heard them use before between themselves.

Ravana took this as a sign to leave. She rose from her chair and hobbled towards the door, her bones screaming in protest. Lilith was not a great conversationalist at the best of times and led her back along the corridor without a word.

Just before they reached the entrance to Ravana�s room, an adjacent door opened and Jizo stomped backwards into the corridor with a squirming young boy, carrying him like a sack with her arm clamped around his waist. The portly nurse swung her burden upright and a startled Ravana stared into the pale and frightened face of her previously-unknown neighbour. The boy, who wore a green gown similar to her own, looked no more than ten Terran years old, with tousled blond hair crowning a pale face streaked with dirt. It was the first time Ravana had seen another patient and she attempted a smile. The boy looked up at the bedraggled Indian girl with the scar on her face and shrank back in alarm.

�What planet are you from?� he asked, scrutinising her carefully.

Ravana thought about this. �I�m from a moon,� she said at last. �A hollow moon.�

She evidently arrived back at her room sooner than expected, for a trolley-like laundry robot was still busy changing her bedding. Ravana went to sit on the chair next to the bedside table, aching more than ever and glad to get the weight off her feet. When Jizo returned to the room, the wary look she gave Lilith was that of a fellow conspirator. By the time the robot completed its duties and trundled away, Jizo had reinvigorated herself with a swig from a pocket flask and was back to her usual chirpy self. The lopsided smile she gave Ravana when she came to help her back into bed was weird but oddly genuine.

Ravana rose from the chair and with a grimace faltered under a spasm of pain. She grabbed the table to steady herself, then cringed as her hand fell against the pot of flowers and knocked it from its perch. She made a grab for the toppling pot, but it fell too quickly and she watched in dismay as it smashed upon the floor. The smile on Jizo�s face was short-lived.

�Whoops,� Ravana murmured. She looked down at the crumpled blooms, scattered amidst lumps of soil and shattered remains of pot. There was something about potsherds that prodded a recent memory, but it was gone before it had time to surface. �I�ll clear it up.�

�No need,� Lilith snapped. �I�ll call the janitor robot.�

�Hey janitor, you�re a robot!� Ravana joked weakly, then saw the nurse�s expression and decided it was not the time for silly quips. �Sorry for being clumsy. I just feel so weak and heavy, like something�s weighing me down.�

The nurses gave her an odd look and helped her into bed without another word. While Ravana busily rearranged her pillows in a half-hearted attempt to get comfortable, Lilith disappeared briefly from the room and then returned with a canister of protein drink and Ravana�s usual second dose of pills for the day. Behind the nurse trundled a squat and very battered janitor robot, which after bouncing off the wall several times extended a brush on a spindly arm and started to sweep the mess from the floor.

�Drink this,� said Lilith, handing her the canister.

�We�ll get you on proper food in a day or too if all goes well,� Jizo reassured her. �We don�t want you getting so hungry you start eating rats!�

�Jizo likes to keep the vermin for herself,� Lilith murmured icily.

Ravana frowned, but took the drink and idly sipped at the straw. She watched the industrious robot retrieve the last of the broken pieces of pot, which had hit the floor with some force. The aged robot was not doing a very good job and kept halting with a faint electronic murmur of �Reboot me!�, prompting Jizo to give it an over-zealous kick to start it moving again. Ravana�s thoughts however dwelled upon the brief meeting with the little boy who had asked her what planet she was from. Oddly enough, it was word-for-word what she used to ask people in far-flung spaceports on early trips with her father, especially when she saw someone struggling to cope with the local gravity.

�Your medication?� reminded Lilith, interrupting her thoughts.

Ravana scooped the pills into her hand, aware that both nurses watched her closely. The notion of gravity stuck in her mind. She had lived the last nine years on the Dandridge Cole, an abandoned asteroid colony ship in the Barnard�s Star system, which spun on its axis to create pseudo-gravity roughly twice that felt on the moons of Yuanshi and Daode. Upon their arrival in Hemakuta, she remembered being pleasantly surprised at how light she felt. She certainly did not feel as she did now, where every clumsy movement of her aching bones was like trying to wade through custard with a sack of bricks on her back.

�Is everything okay?� asked Lilith, eyeing her curiously.

Ravana gave her a puzzled stare, then looked at the pills in her hand.

�I�m fine,� she said. She gave a weak smile and popped the tablets into her mouth.

The nurse nodded, satisfied. Ravana leaned back into her pillows, sucked thoughtfully on her drink and watched as the nurses left the room and locked the door behind them. It was only when she could no longer hear the footsteps in the corridor outside did she put her hand back to her lips and gently spit the tablets out of her mouth. Placing the tablets under her pillow, she settled back into bed and tried to get some sleep.

The grey shapes at the end of the bed were not as blurry as the previous morning, but that was not what held Ravana�s attention. She had awoken with a terrible headache, one that gripped her head like a vice and when she closed her eyes again caused dancing shapes to jump gaily across the back of her eyelids. What was more, she was so hungry it hurt and her stomach was rumbling in a most undignified manner. Yet though still groggy, she felt more alert than she had in days and was shuffling into a sitting position even before Jizo had time to offer her the usual tablets and glass of water.

�Did you sleep well?� the nurse asked.

There was something in Jizo�s tone that suggested the nurse already knew the answer to her question. A pot of fresh blooms had appeared to replace the one that had smashed, which meant someone had returned to the room whilst Ravana was asleep.

�I think so,� Ravana replied. The response came easy and her words did not sound so slurred. She relieved the nurse of the pills and water, then winced as another roll of pain crashed through her skull. �I had some very strange dreams.�

�Dreams?� asked Lilith, far too quickly for Ravana�s liking. �You�ve not mentioned having dreams before.�

�No,� Ravana mused. �I don�t remember dreaming before. Not here.�

The nurses waited for her to take her morning tablets. Ravana fumbled with her pillow with the air of someone ready to lie back down, changed her mind and slid out of bed. Still holding the pills and water, she stumbled across the floor to the mirror. Her reflection gazed unblinking back, slightly sharper than normal and she was struck by how thin she looked, but not in a good way. The hole in her mind seemed to taunt her from behind her reflected gaze, a blackness now haunted by the ghosts of her dreams.

�Mirror, mirror, on the wall,� murmured Ravana. �What is it I can�t recall?�

Despite her headache, she decided she looked slightly less worse than yesterday. Behind her, Lilith noisily cleared her throat.

�Have you taken your medication?�

Ravana put the pills to her mouth, then paused. �What will these do to me?�

�Restore your vitality!� declared Jizo.

�They help you sleep,� said Lilith, glaring at her colleague.

�Vitality and sleep?� asked Ravana. �Is that possible?�

�I must apologise for my fat friend, for she is an idiot,� Lilith replied tartly. �What she should have said, if she knew her arse from her elbow, is that it�s vitally important you get plenty of sleep. You can�t expect to run before you can walk.�

�But I can walk,� Ravana pointed out.

Keeping her back to the nurses, she raised a hand and then the glass to her mouth and swallowed. As she turned, her aching legs wavered and she grabbed hold of the table to steady herself. Her elbow brushed against the replacement plant pot.

�Sorry,� she murmured and caught the hard stares of the nurses as she quickly put a hand to the pot to stop it falling. �Maybe I do need to work on my walking, after all.�

�Has she been at your flask?� asked Lilith, glaring at Jizo. �She looks drunk.�

�Don�t blame the demon drink,� Jizo said cryptically. �Blame the demon king.�

Puzzled, Ravana handed back the empty glass to Lilith, who gave a satisfied nod. There was something in the air that made them dispense with any further barbed banter and she allowed herself to be led away to the washroom without another word.

Neither nurse gave the plant pot a second look, otherwise they may have noticed the fresh indentations in the soil where a finger had pushed two sets of tablets deep out of sight.

There was only one monk in the interview room that morning. His red sash was decorated with lions and it took her a while to recall this meant it was Brother Simha.

�zz-raavaanaa-zz,� rasped the hooded figure. �zz-hoow-iis-yyoouur-meemooryy-zz?�

The momentary jolt of panic that greeted her every time she was in the presence of the monks this time failed to ebb away. Ravana sat nervously before the desk and tried hard to remember where she had seen the figures before. The seaside scene through the window had lost its calming influence upon the strange fears building up within her. The dreadful inhuman screech of Brother Simha invoked an image of spindly grey fingers reaching out to suffocate consciousness at the merest touch. Ravana gave an involuntary shiver and dropped her gaze to the monk�s own hands resting upon the desk before her.

Startled, she froze. Emerging from the sleeves of the monk�s robe, clear as day, were twelve skinny digits, six to each hand. She was so surprised she had to count them twice. It seemed incredible she had never noticed it before, but after missing two doses of medication her mind was becoming clearer by the hour. Simha still awaited an answer and she forced her stare away from the monk�s strange hands.

�My memory is no better,� Ravana replied, but even as she spoke she realised there were bits and pieces lurking in her mind that were no longer forgotten. �I think�?�

The monk leaned forward. �zz-whaat-doo-yyoouu-thiink-zz?�

�Last night I had a dream,� she said carefully. �I was in a grand palace, trying to rescue my father. There was smoke everywhere, Que Qiao agents firing guns, but we escaped and flew off in the Platypus, my father�s ship.� A face popped into her mind of the chirpy young Chinese women who had become a good friend and confident on the Dandridge Cole and Ravana smiled. �Ostara helped me rescue him. She�s head of security at the hollow moon and the Raja�s kidnap was her first real case.�

She paused and bit her lip, deep in thought. It had been the kidnap of Raja Surya, the heir to the Yuanshi throne who had been living in exile on the Dandridge Cole, that had set off the chain of events that had taken the Platypus to Epsilon Eridani. Bits of disjointed memories were falling together, yet she still could not see the connection between the Raja�s kidnap and her dream. Simha leaned forward and she could almost feel the grey monk�s hidden gaze boring into her skull like a dentist�s drill.

�zz-yyoouu-diid-noot-reescuuee-yyoouur-faatheer-zz!� he told her. His cold tones did little to take away her thoughts of whirring machinery. �zz-iit-waas-juust-aa-dreeaam-zz. zz-aa-faantaasyy-zz!� He paused. �zz-yyoouur-miind-iis-veeryy-troouubleed-zz.�

Doubts crept once more into Ravana�s mind. Her dream had seemed so vivid, yet also featured a superhero emerging from the smoke to lead the escape, which on reflection did suggest it was more wishful thinking than anything real. As she stared at the hooded figure, a new fear took hold of her; the dreadful dawning realisation that maybe she was losing her mind and that the real reason she was here was to recover from a mental breakdown. It would explain why she had been packed off to a hospice on a tranquil stretch of Pampa Bay, if only to divorce her from whatever it was that had ruptured her mind. Now trembling, she looked into the monk�s dark hood and asked the one question she did not want answered.

�I don�t know what�s real anymore,� she whispered. �Am I going mad?�

In bed that night, Ravana�s dreams came back with a vengeance. This time there was a jumble of images to contend with; one moment she was on the flight deck of the Platypus seeing a spinning asteroid loom ever closer on a collision course, then suddenly she was tearing through the darkness in an open-roofed hovertruck, furiously trying to make her way to somewhere always just out of reach. A frightening recurring picture was of twelve shadowy figures reaching out to grab her with the same spindly fingers of the grey monks, at which she would jerk awake and stifle a scream.

She had once again feigned taking the offered pills upon her return to her room, but in the hours of wakefulness between uneasy slumbers there were moments when she wondered if this had been wise. Brother Simha had filled her mind with a bundle of fresh doubts, her grip on reality was slipping and she could not decide whether the tablets were helping or hindering, her belief switching between the two extremes in the blink of an eye. She had not waited until morning to move the latest discarded tablets from their hiding place under her pillow to an unmarked grave in the plant pot. She figured the tooth fairy would not take kindly to finding medication instead of molars two nights running.

Her aches and pains had not improved, but she no longer felt chronically tired and spent much of the night pacing restlessly around her darkened room. In a moment of bravado, she tried the door but as expected found it locked. Her ongoing headache was not helping, nor were the indistinct shapes that popped into her thoughts every time she closed her eyes; different to those of her dreams in that she felt as if she could almost reach out with a mental finger and give them a prod. During her nocturnal pacing she noticed the blurriness of these mental images varied according to how far she was from her bed and at their most indistinct when she lay upon the mattress. After a while it occurred to her to look under the bed, whereupon she found a large metal box linked via wires to a wall outlet, bolted beneath the headboard. Her suspicions grew after giving the box an experimental thump with her fist, for this had the unexpected effect of making the shapes in her mind quiver in unison.

It was during a period when Ravana lay awake upon her bed, gazing into the dark, that she heard a noise from the room next door. The sound was muffled, but unmistakeable as the sobs of a crying child and she suddenly remembered the blond-haired boy she had seen yesterday in the corridor. With a mixture of curiosity and concern, she quietly slipped off the bed, crouched next to the table and put an ear to the wall. What she heard was not tears of pain, but the muted whimpering of loneliness and despair. The boy sounded like he needed a friend. It occurred to Ravana they at least had that much in common.

�Hello?� she whispered. �Can you hear me?�

The crying abruptly stopped and she heard a squelching sniff as an unseen hand wiped snot from a nose. Moments later there was a soft thud against the wall on the other side.

�Who�s there?� The boy�s voice trembled on the edge of tears.

�A friend,� Ravana replied, then realised the boy probably needed a little more to go on. �The girl from the hollow moon. My name is Ravana.�

�I saw you yesterday. You walk funny.�

�I can�t help it. My legs ache.�

�You have scary black hair and a yucky scar on your face.�

�Now you�re getting personal!�

�You smiled,� the boy said, sounding sad. �No one smiles anymore.�

Ravana let his words drift into a poignant silence, wondering whether she should laugh or cry at the pitiful situation they were both in. She resisted the urge to do either.

�What�s your name?� she asked.

�Artorius,� the voice replied. �The fat nurse calls me Arty-Farty.�

�That�s very grown-up of her.�

She paused to listen for any sound from the nurses, for something told her that they would not be pleased to find their patients out of bed and chatting at this time of night. Hearing nothing, she wondered what a young child might know about the place they were in. She decided Artorius had probably seen a lot more than anyone suspected.

�Why are you here?� she asked. �Are you poorly?�

�I help look after the aliens. They make me talk to them.�

�You talk to� what?� murmured Ravana. She lowered her voice. �Greys?�

�They have scaly skin and big eyes and funny hands and feet. I like them but the nurses keep them in cages and do nasty things to them and hurt them.�

Ravana did not like the sound of that. �Do the nurses hurt you?� she asked.

�No,� Artorius replied, after an endless pause. Ravana smiled at the thought of him shaking his head at her from the other side of the wall. �They get angry and shout a lot.�

�That�s good,� she replied. �I mean, it�s good they don�t hurt you. Shouting and being angry isn�t good at all. Are you sure you�re okay?�

�My head hurts sometimes when they make me use my implant.�

�Implant?�

Ravana muttered a curse. On cue, a twinge of pain shot through her skull. Incredibly, she had somehow managed to forget that she herself had a cranium implant, a tiny chip in her brain. She�d had it from an early age, but her father in his infinite wisdom decided not to tell her until it caused her virtual-reality nightmare at the Pampa Palace hotel. This was the revelation hidden at the edge of the black hole in her mind, the dreadful secret her father had confessed whilst she lay traumatised in her hotel room. Yet there was more, for in her mind it led to another memory, one of a dreadful encounter in a hidden corner of the Dandridge Cole. With a shudder, she decided that was something she was not yet ready to face.

�My implant,� she murmured grimly. �They must have really screwed with my mind to make me to forget a thing like that.�

There was silence from beyond the wall. Listening closely, Ravana heard the faint rustling of sheets as a tired young boy climbed back into bed. He had the right idea.

�Good night Artorius,� she whispered.

The sound of footsteps in the corridor outside sent her scurrying back to her own bed. Her mind was in no mood for sleep and there she lay, frantically contemplating the myriad of thoughts buzzing around her head in the darkness of her room.

Ravana was out of bed and standing by the mirror when the nurses came to wake her. She still felt very tired, but this time it was a weariness through being awake all night, her head full of unquiet thoughts, rather than the dull drowsiness of what she now accepted were tranquiliser tablets. In a way she was more alert than ever and this morning had noticed for the first time just how grubby her white room actually was, with peeling paint and mouldy cracks wherever she looked. Her headache remained, but the brief conversation with Artorius last night left her strangely elated, for now she knew she was not alone.

The nurses were both visibly disconcerted by their patient�s apparent cheerfulness. Ravana�s first words that morning threw them completely.

�Who was the little boy I saw a couple of days ago?�

Her question distracted the nurses long enough for her to slip the latest dose of pills out of harm�s way and bury them in the plant pot with all the others. The tablets had reacted badly with the soil and the potted blooms were shedding petals fast.

�What boy?� the portly Jizo said automatically. �There�s no boy here.�

�He is no concern of yours!� Lilith snapped. �Why do you ask?�

�Just curious,� replied Ravana, noting their wary reaction.

Her own suspicions were aroused when in a break from the usual routine, both nurses decided to accompany her to the bathroom and on to the waiting grey monks in the interview room. More unusual still, today they were greeted by the distant sound of singing relayed through crackling loudspeakers. A small choir were putting their heart and soul into what sounded like a church hymn, though the words were strange:

�In your head be it,� murmured Ravana. She had heard the hymn before.

�We are a little early,� Lilith told her, seeing her raise a quizzical eyebrow. �The monks wanted to see you straight after the service broadcast.�

�Service?� asked Ravana. After what the nurses had told her, it should not have been a surprise to learn that hospice life included religious services, but this was the first real confirmation that the medical centre was a church-run affair. �Can anyone join in?�

�Only the devout,� Jizo replied. Her triumphant sideways glance at her colleague suggested that while she herself qualified for such worthy status, Lilith did not.

The singing continued unabated. They arrived at the interview room, to find the two chairs on the far side of the desk unexpectedly vacant. Lilith invited Ravana to take her usual seat and then waited with Jizo at the door, presumably for the arrival of one or both of the monks. For a while Ravana was content to sit gazing longingly through the window at the distant sandy beach. After several minutes passed and neither nurse spoke, she could take the silence no more and decided to pose the question that had been on her mind since yesterday.

�Why does Brother Simha have twelve fingers?�

Jizo looked up from pulling the legs off a spider, scooped from its web near the door. Her leer had become an apprehensive stare. Ravana shivered at the sight of something alive squirming in the pocket of the nurse�s grey habit.

�Does he?� remarked Jizo, looking uncomfortable. �Can�t say I noticed.�

�Polydactyly,� Lilith replied smugly.

�Yes!� Jizo cried. �Poly-what-she-said. Some sort of dinosaur.�

�A rare congenital medical condition,� Lilith corrected, regarding Jizo with disdain. �Some people are born with extra fingers or toes.�

�Like the dinosaur,� her colleague persisted, unwilling to let go of an idea. �With big claws dripping blood and guts from all the tiny animals they�ve ripped apart and��

�You�re thinking of a Pterodactyl,� Ravana hastily interrupted. Jizo�s wild macabre imagination made her feel sick. �I think they had wings.�

�Exactly! The extra fingers and floppy skin enabled them to fly.�

Lilith gave the weary sigh of someone who wished they were anywhere else but here. Ravana opened her mouth to ask something else, then realised the singing had stopped. A tramp of footsteps in the corridor outside sent the nervous nurses back to their positions by the door. Moments later, the monks arrived.

The two grey figures swept into the room in a blur of cloaks and scarlet sashes. They slipped silently into the waiting chairs, leaving Lilith and Jizo to disappear through the door and close it behind them. Ravana�s headache flared as the usual wave of panic crashed over her, a fear which like yesterday remained as she stared into the dark recesses of their hoods. This time she faced them with a clear mind. It dawned on her that the random emotional shapes their presence brought to mind were being generated by her implant, yet the images were quite unlike the shadowy pictures glimpsed whilst in her room. Her mind went back to the nightmare vision of twelve grey figures reaching towards her with their outstretched hands. Ravana turned her gaze from the seated figures and shuddered.

Brother Simha, the monk with lions upon his sash, nodded to his companion sat at his side, then leaned forward to level the blank stare of his hood at Ravana.

�zz-raavaanaa-zz,� he hissed, his voice cold and unwelcoming. �zz-wee-aaree-moost-coonceerneed-aaboouut-yyoouur-meemooryy-zz.�

�zz-yyoouu-aaree-noot-weell-zz,� rasped Brother Dhanus, who wore the customary archers on his sash. �zz-teell-uus-aaboouut-thee-booook-theen-yyoouu-caan-reest-zz.�

Ravana stared back, her fear growing by the minute. �What book?�

The formless shapes in her mind reverberated with angry spikes as each monk spoke. The thought of what she may have done to generate such dreadful passions terrified her. Their hatred bore down on her, threatening to swamp her with fear and drive her into insanity. She was on the verge of tipping past the point she could take no more, when a tremor passed through their linked minds, a flicker of apprehension. A sudden realisation hit her with all the force of poorly-maintained rocket booster.

�Those tablets,� she gasped. �You�re using selective mind wipes! There�s something you want me to remember. But there�s more you want me to forget!�

�zz-yyoouur-miind-muust-bee-freeeed-zz,� said Brother Simha, his voice grating painfully upon Ravana�s ears. �zz-yoouu-muust-beeliieevee-zz.�

�zz-aall-thaat-iis-paart-dooees-beeloong-zz!� cried Dhanus.

Ravana stared at the monks in disbelief, wide-eyed with terror as she finally remembered the dreadful encounter with the mad priest Taranis in the Dandridge Cole. She and her friends had witnessed the dreadful unveiling of the half-human, half-alien cyberclones the priest called his disciples, created to spread the word of the Dhusarian Church throughout the five systems. The twelve clones had turned upon Fenris, Taranis� accomplice, reaching out with their hands to destroy his mind in a moment of pure rapture. Brother Dhanus� words were exactly what the twelve had chanted as their victim fell lifeless to the floor. Now she saw both the monks sported the spindly six-fingered hands of the alien clones.

�Oh my word,� she murmured. �You killed Fenris!�

She did not know how it could be, but seated before her were two of Taranis� creations. As if to confirm the terrible truth, both monks raised their hands to their heads and carefully pulled back their hoods. Now they revealed the merciless mask-like grimaces etched upon their faces and the grey, lizard-like skin stretched tight across their skulls. Ravana did what anyone else would have done in the circumstances and shrieked.

�zz-uunbeeliieeveer-zz!� screeched Dhanus. �zz-buut-yyoouu-wiill-beeliieevee-zz!�

�zz-iin-yyoouur-heeaad-bee-iit-zz!� declared Simha.

Ravana screamed again and fell backwards off her chair, landing sprawled upon her hands and knees. She scrambled across the floor towards the door and was brought up short by two pairs of legs blocking her path. Lilith stood in the open doorway, wearing an expression that captured her bewilderment at the revelation of what lay beneath the monks� hoods. Jizo, stood beside her, looked oddly unfazed.

�We, err� heard a scream,� stammered Lilith. �Is this a bad moment?�

�Yes!� cried Ravana. �Very bad! Get me out of here!�

�What scared you, little runt?� Jizo sneered.

�zz-thee-paatiieent-iis-noot-weell-zz,� rasped Simha, making Lilith jump. �zz-shee-haas-miisleed-yyoouu-aand-reefuuseed-treeaatmeent-zz.�

Jizo gave Ravana a disapproving stare. �Is that so?�

�They�re alien cyberclones!� cried Ravana. �Created by Taranis!�

�Taranis is dead,� Lilith declared. �You killed him.�

�What?!�

�zz-taakee-heer-aawaayy-zz!� Dhanus ordered. �zz-doo-noot-faaiill-uus-zz!�

Lilith nervously bobbed her head in reply. Her face betrayed her shock at seeing the monks unveiled. Jizo stood defiant, radiating a smug superior air. Lilith quickly recovered and with Jizo, grabbed Ravana�s arms and dragged her backwards through the door.

They did not stop until they reached her room at the end of the corridor. Lilith went to fetch the usual medication and the look in the nurse�s eye upon her return was enough to tell Ravana that this time there would be no pretending. Lilith pressed the tablets directly into the girl�s mouth and stood glaring until she was sure the medication had been swallowed.

Jizo grinned and pulled a wriggling rat from her pocket. Ravana yelped and retreated in horror as the nurse did a grotesque mime of a pterosaur attacking its victim.

�Lizard men,� Jizo declared, staring thoughtfully into the rat�s face. She pulled her flask from a pocket and took a swig. �I told you it was something to do with dinosaurs.�

As soon as the nurses had gone, Ravana rolled out of bed and rammed her finger down her throat, already feeling a lightness in her head as the tablets got to work. Moments later she was on her hands and knees, trying to vomit as quietly as possible and glaring at the metal box under her mattress with justified paranoia. When she felt she had thrown up what she could of the undigested tablets, she reached beneath the bed and yanked the electrical cables from the box in a shower of sparks. The flickering shapes in her mind abruptly resolved into clearly-defined symbols, created by her cranium implant as it reached out and connected with whatever remote circuits it could find. Her mind had been messed with in more ways than one. Exhausted, she slumped against the wall, sobbing quietly.

�Why me?� she moaned. Her headache was worse than ever. �What have I done?�

Lilith�s accusation reawakened the guilt Ravana had bottled up over the fate of Priest Taranis, the father of the Dhusarian Church. The shock of seeing two of Taranis� creations sent her mind into turmoil and her memories flooded back. The priest and his alien-human cyberclones had been blasted into space, cast adrift when her friend Zotz tricked the Dandridge Cole�s safety systems into jettisoning the engine room and the priest�s secret laboratory into the void, deep in the Barnard�s Star system. Ravana and her friends abandoned the hollow moon shortly afterwards, for Taranis� meddling and the crash of the Platypus had left the tiny world with badly compromised life-support systems.

Taranis� clones had threatened their lives and left Fenris dead. After the euphoria of their escape, Ravana had nevertheless been haunted by the thought that she had been wrong to encourage Zotz to do what he did. Prior to the incident, the priest had been presumed dead for years. An inquest into what happened that fateful day was shelved and quietly forgotten. If Lilith�s revelation was true, Ravana and her friends had got away with murder.

Ravana found a new home on Ascension, gained a place at Newbrum University and tried to get on with her life. Yet she was also a thief; she had taken Taranis� Isa-Sastra, a book that ultimately led her to join a student archaeology expedition in the Tau Ceti system during the summer break. What was missing from her memory was how she had apparently ended back on Daode, a virtual prisoner of the Dhusarian Church, in the company of two of Taranis� surviving disciples. It was a mystery she was more than willing to leave behind.

�It�s time this patient was discharged,� she murmured.

Her cranium implant had already identified the remote control for the lock on the door to her room. All children born in the Epsilon Eridani system were implanted at a young age by order of the governing Que Qiao Corporation; Taranis and his attempts to meddle with her destiny many years ago had left Ravana with an unregistered special-services device with far greater capabilities than was usual. As she listened for any sound of movement in the corridor beyond, she heard a murmur from the room next door and felt guilty for not remembering Artorius. Moving to the wall, she put an ear to the flaking paint and listened.

�Artorius?� she whispered. �Can you hear me?�

There was a rustle of sheets, a soft patter of feet and a faint thud as someone dropped to the floor on the other side of the wall.

�Ravana?�

�Yes, it�s me. Are you okay?�

�I want to go home,� the voice declared.

�Me too,� admitted Ravana. �I�m leaving tonight.�

�Oh.�

�Do you want to come with me?�

�Can I bring Nana and Stripy?�

�Who?� Ravana rolled her eyes in despair. �This is an escape, not a group outing!�

She heard a shuffling noise and guessed the boy had moved from the wall. She crept to the door and pressed the control, but as expected the mechanism remained locked. She considered the implant image that represented the lock, a plain red square centred upon a stylised key, then carefully gave it a mental prod. With a soft clunk, the symbol changed from red to green. Ravana tentatively reached for the control again. This time, the door opened.

�Piece of cake,� she murmured.

The darkened corridor beyond was empty. Ravana pressed the wall-mounted release button to unlock the room next to hers and pushed open the door. Artorius sat on the floor next to his bed, looking downcast. Seeing her enter, he smiled and gave a little wave.

Ravana offered the boy her hand. �Coming?�

Artorius nodded and took her hand without a word. Ravana quickly led him into the corridor and down towards the interview room, which now she thought about it was the limit of her geographic knowledge of the hospice. Her implant detected security cameras, but no alarms sounded and any red symbols quickly became green, just as when she broke into Que Qiao�s headquarters on Yuanshi to rescue her father. Upon reaching the door she sought, she was annoyed to find Artorius trying to pull her further along the corridor.

�This is the way out!� she whispered urgently. �There�s a window leading outside.�

�We need to go down here!� the boy protested stubbornly.

�But�� Ravana began, then saw Artorius� expression. �Okay, have it your way. Don�t blame me if we run into angry lizard monks!�

Artorius led her to a set of double doors at the end of the corridor. These too were locked and this time the wall panel demanded a security code, but Ravana was able to override the control with her implant as easily as before. The door unlocked with a clunk.

�How did you do that?� asked an awestruck Artorius.

�Magic,� she said.

He wriggled past and pushed open the doors. Lights flickered on in the room ahead. Ravana�s nose wrinkled in disgust as she caught the musty metallic odour of raw meat.

�Oh my word,� she murmured.

The space before her was crammed with racks of cages, medical apparatus, work benches and all sort of paraphernalia ideally suited to a mad scientist�s laboratory. The windowless chamber was not large and the chaotic jumble of equipment left little room for manoeuvre. When Ravana saw the empty cages and flecks of blood upon the floor, a tremor ran down her spine. It reminded her of the secret animal-testing laboratory she and her friends had stumbled upon on Yuanshi some months before.

�What is this place?� she asked.

�This way!� cried Artorius, pulling her forward.

Not all the cages were empty. When Ravana saw the final large enclosure, her heart leapt and her head filled with so many different emotions. The caged creatures were the size of small apes, humanoid yet lizard-like with grey hairless skin and mournful almond-shaped eyes peering from an inverted triangular face. Spindly fingers clung despondently to the bars of the cage as they lifted their gazes towards their visitors.

Ravana was one of the few people ever to get close to the greys, the near-mythical aliens of Epsilon Eridani. Incredibly, she recognised one of the creatures now before her. The older-looking grey had distinctive blue markings on its skin that had stayed in her mind ever since a strange encounter in her childhood. Taranis later captured the same creature and awarded it the dubious honour of being the mother to his hybrid cyberclones. The grey was present at the birth of the priest�s disciples on the Dandridge Cole, but despite Ravana�s efforts had been condemned to the same fate as Taranis and his creations. Yet at least two of the clones had survived. So it seemed had their unwilling mother.

�Pretty cool aliens, eh?� remarked Artorius. The younger of the two greys, which wore faint zebra-like red stripes upon its back, was reaching through the bars towards the young boy, its lips twitching in what looked like a smile.

�Greys,� she corrected, cautiously approaching the cage. �We�re the aliens here.�

The elder grey recognised her. The creature reached through the bars and placed a six-fingered hand upon her arm, just like at their last fateful encounter. Ravana began to suspect they were far more intelligent than she had previously given them credit for.

�Thraak thraak!� the grey yelped gently, momentarily startling her. The noise that erupted from the creature�s mouth was like two bursts of static.

�Nana knows you,� said Artorius, impressed.

�It�s a long story,� she admitted. �You can understand them?�

�The angry nurses make me ask them things.�

His reply opened up far too many questions but Ravana knew this was not the time for a discussion on clandestine scientific research. She had tried and failed to save the older grey from Taranis once before. She would not fail again.

�They�re coming with us,� she reassured Artorius. �Is it just these two?�

The boy nodded. �Nana and Stripy.�

�Nana?�

�She�s very old.�

�And Stripy is striped,� Ravana murmured. �How original.�

�Their real names are very long!� Artorius replied haughtily.

The younger grey pointed to a bunch of old-fashioned mechanical keys hanging on a wall hook. Ravana found the one to open the cage and moments later Stripy and Nana were clambering cautiously down to the floor, unsure of their new-found freedom. Neither stood more than chest high to her, though could look Artorius in the eye.

They seemed unwilling to move until they were taken by the hand. While their stubby legs did not look as if they had evolved for speed, Ravana soon had them all out of the strange laboratory and at the door to the interview room. Upon hearing the sound of distant footsteps they hurried into the room, where Ravana used her implant to lock the door behind them.

The room was in near-darkness, with the window in the opposite wall just visible in the gloom. She found the darkness outside puzzling, for a day on Daode was ten times longer than on Earth and the sun had showed no signs of setting when she had been there earlier.

The window remained slightly ajar and a simple shove was enough to open it wide. Using a chair as a step, Ravana helped Artorius and the two greys through, then followed.

The silence of the sea was eerie. A dim glow filled the sky, allowing them to see various shapes in the dark. It was only when Ravana accidentally stumbled into a large screen that she began to suspect things were not quite as expected. Slowly, her eyes began to adjust to the low light and her confusion turned bitter.

�It was all a trick,� she murmured. �One big lie after another.�

Above them soared the inner surface of a vast pressurised dome, one transparent enough to allow a little sunlight through from outside. The screen she had walked into was blank, but there was a triple-lens holovid projector mounted above the window frame, positioned just right so that recorded footage of Pampa Bay would appear real to someone looking through the window from inside. It dawned upon Ravana that her aching bones were right. They were not on Daode after all.

�Where are we going?� asked Artorius. Beside him, the greys looked anxious.

�Far away from here,� she muttered angrily. �Follow me.�

Ravana led them away into the gloom. The low rambling building masquerading as a hospice bordered a hangar-like space that extended as far as the curved wall of the dome. They scurried forward in the gloom and almost ran headlong into a huge mechanical monstrosity on caterpillar tracks, the purpose of which Ravana cared not to guess. Just when she was starting to think they would never find a way out, a large green shape resolved into the familiar six wheels and barrel-shaped hull of a lunar-class personnel carrier, parked in front of a huge airlock door in the side of the dome. The dark windows of the vehicle were strangely inviting.

�There,� she whispered to Artorius. �That�s our way out of here.�

�You�re going to steal a transport?�

�Borrow it,� Ravana corrected him. �Hopefully.�

She scurried to the transport and activated the control to open the rear hatch. Artorius and the greys followed more hesitantly, but before long Ravana was hastening them up the steps, through the airlock and into the passenger cabin. She sealed the hatch behind them.

The lights came on as they entered, revealing bare metal walls with bench seats and overhead lockers on either side. Ravana hurried forward to the cockpit and dropped into the driver�s seat. Sitting before the console felt reassuringly like being on the flight deck of the Platypus to give her confidence, though she had precious little experience driving anything with wheels. Both the dome above and the design of the transport suggested that wherever they were, the world outside was far from welcoming.

�Nowhere to run?� she muttered. Their escape had been remarkably easy to far. She hit the start switch. �We�ll see about that.�

The hydrogen-powered engine roared into life, louder than she expected. Seconds later, alarms began to ring and the dome lit up with flashing red warning lights. Artorius and the greys quickly added to the confusion with a barrage of mutterings and nervous screeches. With a hand on the steering wheel, Ravana shoved the gear level into �drive�.

The transport shuddered into motion towards the closed door of the dome airlock. She looked for a remote airlock control on the console before her, then in desperation closed her eyes, brought up the implant images in her mind and gave a panicky mental stab at the one that seemed most likely. To her relief, the airlock door ahead began to slide open.

The transport trundled into the chamber. Automatic sensors got to work to seal the door behind them, ready to let them loose onto whatever lay beyond. Ravana found the control for the rear-view camera and caught a glimpse of two figures running from the fake hospice towards them before the airlock door sealed them from sight. There was a metallic clang as the door in front began to slide open. A sudden shaft of daylight broke through and Ravana raised a hand to shield her eyes.

�Wow!� exclaimed Artorius. �A proper alien planet!�

The door revealed a bleak desert landscape against an arid pink sky. Ahead, a black gravel road ran to the horizon across a sea of red dunes. Ravana saw straight away that the bright yellow sun was not the distant light that Epsilon Eridani was to Daode, nor was it the bloated red disc that was Barnard�s Star from Ascension. Now she remembered everything.

�Falsafah,� said Ravana. �It looks like I never left Tau Ceti after all.�

ADMINISTRATOR VERDANDI sat back in her chair and frowned. She had long ago learned that the art of delegation was a delicate balancing game; it was all about giving subordinates just enough power to keep things running smoothly, but not enough to totally screw things up. It was a philosophy that had served the domed settlement of Newbrum well for many years, not to mention one that had made her the longest-serving city Administrator ever on Ascension and favoured candidate to fill the vacant post of planet-wide Governor come the elections next year. Her tall, imposing presence was often all that was needed to spur others to get on with the job, for the brisk mind beneath her tightly-secured blond hair was perfectly encapsulated by her equally sharp suit and boots. The thud of the latter could make any of her staff cut short their lunch break.

Nevertheless, the arrival of the refugees from the asteroid colony ship Dandridge Cole had proved testing. Every day there seemed to be yet another problem that demanded her personal attention. Verdandi was beginning to suspect that her staff had realised just how powerless they really were and were taking perverse pleasure in accepting the fact.

The man seated opposite cut a striking muscular figure with his bald head and bushy beard, but it was the tatty flight suit and patch over his left eye that held her attention. They were a reminder of why he was here in her office, very annoyed and presenting her with a demand that may as well have been a request for snow machines in hell.

�I�m sorry Quirinus,� Verdandi said. �I cannot change the rules just for you.�

�But it�s my livelihood!� Quirinus exclaimed, his Australian drawl somewhat lacking the finesse of Verdandi�s clipped English tones. �Take away my pilot�s licence and I have no way of earning a living. There�s enough of us without work as it is!�

�The eyesight test is strict for a reason,� she said sternly. �I will not have one-eyed pilots fly in and out of my spaceport! The Newbrum clinic is fully equipped to fit bionic devices, so it�s not as if you�re out of options.�

�None of us from the hollow moon have that sort of money. You know that.�

Verdandi gave a sympathetic nod and shifted her gaze to the window on her right. Her office was small and minimalist, decorated only by a portrait of Queen Victoria II on the wall behind her desk, but had a good view of the city centre oasis that was Circle Park. Of the four hundred refugees from the Dandridge Cole, barely half had found work in Newbrum and gained the housing rights that came with a job. The rest lived in temporary habitation modules on the edge of the park, much to the dismay of Newbrum�s other three thousand residents who were not impressed that the only bit of greenery within the city had become a shanty town, complete with a motley collection of dispossessed farm animals. Many refugees from the asteroid commune, having no concept of a credit-driven economy, were overwhelmed by how complicated day-to-day life was wherever money was involved, especially when they had none. Verdandi sighed and returned her attention to the matter in hand.

�You do not need to be a pilot to operate your own ship,� she pointed out. �Have you thought about hiring someone to fly that old freighter of yours for you?�

�I did hire a pilot, some idiot called Momus,� Quirinus told her. �He�s run me back and forth to the Dandridge Cole a few times but what he laughingly called his ship has been impounded for failing safety checks.�

�Oh, that Momus. What about your own ship?�

�The Platypus is stuck at the hollow moon, going nowhere fast. The repairs won�t be finished for a while yet. I need a licence to hire myself out and earn a few credits.�

�After what you did? Barely hours after being grounded, you�re up on Stellarbridge trying to make off with a fuel tanker!�

�It�s our tanker!� protested Quirinus. The hollow moon�s fuel supply ship Indra, which had been used as a makeshift lifeboat following the failure of the Dandridge Cole�s power systems, was incapable of atmospheric flight and had been parked in Ascension orbit ever since. �In my defence, the Indra�s flight systems are all automatic and don�t whinge like Momus. Anyway, it�s needed at the Dandridge Cole and the harbour master did say he wanted it out of the way.�

�I feel for you Quirinus, I really do,� she said, though there was a definite edge to her voice. The Commonwealth Space Station CSS Stellarbridge, in orbit around Ascension, only had a dozen or so docking gates and the Indra was blocking at least five. Verdandi had received a complaint that very morning from the harbour master about what this and the non-payment of fees was doing to business and was in no mood for compromise. �Maybe you should consider a career change until your daughter can help you with what you have grandly referred to as your interstellar courier business. I heard she�s settled into life on Newbrum better than most.�

�Ravana? She�s a bright kid,� Quirinus said fondly. �That unfortunate business in Epsilon Eridani was a blessing in disguise, for it meant there were people she knew at the academy. She�s away at the moment,� he added, with a tinge of regret. �She�s become obsessed with archaeology and managed to get a place on the excavation Bradbury Heights University are running in the Tau Ceti system.�

�So I heard.� Verdandi spoke with genuine interest. �Is it true they�re uncovering actual alien ruins on Falsafah? I�ve heard one of the Avalon holovid news shows is eager to do something on the Barnard�s Star connection.�

�That�s the story. Ravana sounded really excited last time I spoke to her, though that was a couple of weeks ago,� Quirinus told her. He looked uncomfortable in the age-old role of worried father. �Communication links aren�t too reliable on Falsafah. She quite surprised me when she volunteered to go on the trip. She used to be such a shy little thing.�

Verdandi smiled, recognising the slight bewilderment common in all parents who are finally starting to realise just how much their children have grown up. Quirinus shifted awkwardly in his chair in the manner of someone who had run out of things to say. Verdandi herself had other appointments waiting.

�I hope it works out for you, Quirinus.� Verdandi extended her hand, a signal that their discussion was over. �You�ll soon be back on your feet, I�m sure.�

There were three people in the waiting room outside Verdandi�s office when Quirinus emerged, one of whom he was surprised to see was Ostara, a smartly-dressed slim young Chinese woman, who at the time of Raja Surya�s kidnap had been head of security on the Dandridge Cole. Her success in solving that particular mystery, albeit with help from Ravana and her friend Zotz, had convinced Ostara she was born to be a detective and upon arriving at Newbrum she had applied to join the local police force. Quirinus had not seen her for some days and they greeted each other with broad smiles, pleased at their chance meeting.

�Fancy meeting you here!� Quirinus exclaimed, earning disapproving stares from the two men sitting opposite. �What brings you before the mighty Administrator?�

�Business,� Ostara told him. �It�s good to see you, Quirinus.�

�You too. Have you had your interview with the police?�

�Yesterday,� she replied, looking solemn. �I didn�t get the job. The officer said I failed to meet the pass mark on one of the tests, but I just know its because they�ve got something against us refugees. Either that or they haven�t got a uniform to fit me!�

Quirinus suppressed a smirk. While it was well known that Newbrum police officers were traditionally big, burly types who could undoubtedly lift petite Ostara with one finger, he could imagine her going off on a completely random tangent when faced with a mental aptitude conundrum. However, what she said about the bad feelings between the locals and the displaced residents of the hollow moon was sadly true.

�Something will come up,� he said, feeling he should pass on some of Verdandi�s optimism. He had already noticed that she did not look too despondent.

�Oh, I have plans,� Ostara told him, looking secretive. �If you fancy a drink later I�ll tell you all about it,� she added coyly.

Quirinus smiled. �I have to collect Zotz from school, then we�re off to stay with his father over the break. I�m sure Wak could use some help on the Dandridge Cole.�

�Say hello from me.�

�Do you want to come with us? Another pair of hands is always welcome.�

Ostara paused, then shook her head. �I�ve things to do here,� she told him. �Besides, last time Wak asked for helping hands, I managed to trap him inside an airlock and leave Ravana dangling down that horrible shaft. I think I�ll give it a miss.�

Quirinus grinned. �We�ll have that drink when I get back,� he promised.

Quirinus strode through the entrance lobby of New Birmingham Chamber and out onto the street. Verdandi�s administrative hub was aptly situated at the geographic heart of the kilometre-wide dome of steel and glass that protected Newbrum�s inhabitants from the alien environment of the world outside. The buildings beneath the dome were predominantly concrete, laid out in a concentric street pattern with Circle Park at the centre. The crumbling tower blocks around the park were squashed close, separated by streets barely wide enough for the transports that brought in supplies from the spaceport and external greenhouses. The bloated red sun of Barnard�s Star hung high above and cast its rusty rays upon the glass to paint the city in dim scarlet hues.

The Chamber was the sole survivor from the initial rush of construction during the founding of New Birmingham by Commonwealth and European colonists barely two generations ago. The building ran in a graceful curve a quarter of the way around the park, but the architecture of the imposing ten-storey structure was otherwise stark and box-like, with only the distinctive red, white and blue flag of the United Kingdom hanging limply from the pole above the main entrance to brighten the grey exterior. The European Space Agency�s interest in Barnard�s Star was short-lived, for there was little in the system worth travelling six light years for. However, after all their hard work in building Newbrum, Bradbury Heights and the other human enclaves on Ascension, many who had settled steadfastly refused to abandon their new homes and so it was that the United Kingdom reluctantly agreed to grant Ascension the status of a Commonwealth colony.

The streets were thronged with people and few were in a rush. Newbrum maintained European Central Time and artificial lighting within the dome did its best to mimic the day and night cycles of Earth. Ascension rotated slowly backwards and was so close to Barnard�s Star it orbited once every three Terran weeks, resulting in a day that saw the sun rise in the west every seven Terran days. Faced with such a confusion of daylight cycles, most people just got up out of bed and went to work or school whenever they pleased. Newbrum was not so much the city that never sleeps, but more one that never quite fully woke up.

Quirinus crossed the street and entered the park through the southern entrance, taking care to steer clear of the small group of protesters picketing the south-east quarter. The people waving placards, mostly employees of big pharmaceutical companies, were residents of the much-prized apartments overlooking the park and as such had not taken kindly to the sprawl of temporary cabins now spoiling their view. Quirinus had spent his first few weeks in Newbrum sharing a cramped module in the refugee camp and felt genuinely sorry for the ex-residents of the hollow moon who found they had no skills or expertise the city wanted. Many had found jobs in the salvage yards or hydrogen works, but it was work no one else cared for. Quirinus had later secured pilot lodgings at Aston Pier for himself, Ravana and Zotz, but now he had lost his licence even that piece of luck was about to come to an end. Fortunately, the city made sure no one went hungry, which was more than could be said for refugees on Earth, where countless millions had been displaced and vast swathes of arable land lost due to climate change.

Circle Park was a pleasant, tree-lined grassy space, split into four by north-to-south and east-to-west paths radiating from a tiny duck pond at the centre. The trees were imported Alpine species that grew tall in the low gravity of Ascension, which was around half that of their native Earth. A young mother and child lobbed stale bread at a disinterested duck, while a flock of cockatoos swept past from one roost to the next, screeching madly. It was a warm day and a few office workers were out upon the grass to eat their lunch. Further along, an elderly man in a hoverchair was being led towards the pond by his nurse. It was sometimes hard to remember that beyond the dome was a harsh, unforgiving rock where only the toughest forms of life managed to scratch out a feeble existence.

The grey facade of Newbrum Academy stood at the north-eastern edge of the park. This, the city�s sole state-funded school, had been on the brink of closure due to the popularity of private corporation colleges, but the need to cater for the children of the hollow moon brought a temporary reprieve. The Symposium, the congress of philosophers formerly responsible for education and other matters on the Dandridge Cole, reached an agreement with Verdandi to become resident tutors on the proviso they did not insult her by asking for anything more than regular meals and a roof over their heads. The building was badly dilapidated even by Newbrum standards; many windows were patched with boards, the letter �R� and one of the �A�s had dropped off the sign above the entrance and a colony of pigeons had taken up residence behind the broken vents of the roof-top air-conditioning unit.

A pale, ginger-haired youth in a scruffy flight suit bustled from the Academy, jerking to a halt halfway through the door when his bag became entangled around a broken handrail. After freeing himself, the boy leapt down the steps two at a time before dropping to sit upon the wall outside the main entrance. Upon seeing Quirinus emerge from the park, he leapt up again and waved. A plump dark-skinned girl, wearing the same pale blue flight suit that passed for school uniform, emerged from the Academy behind him and ran down the steps, brandishing what looked like a piece of paper in her hand.

�Zotz!� she called. �You forgot to take a leaflet!�

The boy turned and took the offered handout, whereupon the girl disappeared back inside before he had a chance to say anything. Quirinus crossed the street to join him, gave the boy a friendly pat on the back and together they walked on along Circle Park Road.

�Hi, Zotz,� said Quirinus. �Good day at school?�

�Rubbish,� Zotz replied. �Did you get your licence back?�

Quirinus shook his head. �The Administrator said she doesn�t like one-eyed pilots.�

�I think the eye patch is cool,� Zotz told him. �It makes you look like a pirate. Is there such thing as space pirates?�

�There�s nothing worth stealing around here. Was that Bellona?� asked Quirinus. Bellona, along with her brother Endymion and friend Philyra, had played a part in the series of events that led them to Epsilon Eridani some months before.

�She and Philyra are at my school,� said Zotz. He glanced at the thin printed sheet the girl had given him. �Bellona�s been acting very strange. Her mum and dad argue a lot and she�s started going to church by herself. Look at this!�

Zotz passed the leaflet to Quirinus. It was an advertisement for a church group aimed at young adults, with an imprinted holovid showing scenes of happy people doing all sorts of wonderful charitable activities on a world that bore no resemblance to the bleak environs of Ascension. Quirinus and Zotz had seen at first hand what Dhusarian Church terrorists did on Yuanshi and the look they gave one another as they examined the leaflet perfectly encapsulated their contempt for the twee images. In the top left corner was a six-pointed star with a centre swirl, which reminded Quirinus of the insignia once used by the Maharaja on Yuanshi. The headline read: �DHUSARIAN CHURCH OF ASCENSION � JOIN WITH US TODAY AND PRAY THE GREY WAY!�

�That�s scary,� Quirinus said at last, handing the leaflet back to Zotz. �I didn�t know there was a Dhusarian Church in Newbrum.�

�It�s been here for years,� Zotz replied. He stuffed the handout into his bag. �They meet in an old bingo hall at the end of Broad Street. Bellona said the Church is becoming really popular on Ascension and they�re looking for somewhere bigger.�

�I�m sure there�s some gas giant we can tip them into, no problem.�

Zotz grinned. Just then, Quirinus� wristpad beeped, indicating an incoming message. Wristpads were hugely popular in space-faring colonies like Newbrum and much preferred to the hand-held net-access devices ubiquitous back on Earth, which easily got lost on zero-gravity flights. Quirinus had owned this particular wristpad for years, a basic model that lacked the latest touches like a holographic enhanced-reality projector, but which had survived exposure to solar flares, fuel spillages and a fair few crash landings.

�That was Momus,� Quirinus told Zotz, after reading the short message. �He�s waiting for us at the spaceport. Do you need to go back to our cabin? I put everything you wanted into the bag, assuming of course Momus remembered to collect it.�

Zotz grinned. �I think I have everything.�

They reached the point where Circle Park Road joined Corporation Street and paused to let a laden hovertruck wheeze past on its way to the spaceport. On the other side of the road a huge crowd had gathered outside Setco, for rumours that the food store had taken delivery of a shipment of chocolate travelled fast. It was said that whoever worked out how to produce such luxuries on Ascension would probably get elected Governor for life.

Administrator Verdandi regarded Ostara carefully, wondering whether she had heard correctly. The young Chinese woman perched on the edge of the seat opposite seemed earnest enough, but her request was an odd one.

�You want to go into business,� Verdandi said slowly, �as a private detective?�

Ostara nodded. �I�ve already taken a lease on an office in Sherlock Street.�

�How appropriate.�

�That�s what I thought!�

�Newbrum already has a fine police force,� Verdandi pointed out, though �fine� was not necessarily the word she would have chosen in private. �Do you think there is any call for a private investigation service in the city?�

�I wanted to join the police force and become a proper detective,� admitted Ostara. �It is what I was born to do. It�s not my fault I�m too small for the uniform.�

�Is that what they told you?�

�When I suggested setting up my own agency, the police officer who interviewed me said I may need some sort of licence,� Ostara added. Verdandi could imagine the laugh of derision that may have accompanied that particular piece of advice. �So here I am!�

�Yes,� mused Verdandi. �Here you are.�

�I�ve read all sorts of books on detecting.�

�I�ll be honest with you,� said Verdandi, quite bemused by the woman�s obvious enthusiasm. �We�ve never had a private detective in Newbrum before now. At least, not to my knowledge,� she added, deciding it was possible a few may have drifted through on some clandestine business she cared not to think about. �It is difficult for me to grant you a private investigator�s licence when there is no such thing to give.�

�Does that mean I don�t need one?� Ostara asked excitedly.

�That�s not quite what I meant.�

Ostara looked crestfallen. Verdandi frowned, for there was something in the woman�s face that reminded her of when she herself had been a bright young thing, keen to make her mark on a world. With a sigh, she pulled open the bottom drawer of her desk and extracted the first blank licence sheet she came across, then smiled when she saw what it was for. Picking up a stylus, she crossed out one of the lines of text, wrote something else above it and signed it at the bottom.

�Here you are,� Verdandi said, handing it to Ostara. �Your licence.�

Ostara gingerly took the plastic sheet and examined the changes the Administrator had made to the document. The stylus had activated the impregnated ink, making the changes permanent and immune from further tampering.

�This is a sewage system inspection permit,� she mused, looking unconvinced. �Only you�ve crossed that bit out and written �Private Investigator Licence�.�

�And signed it,� Verdandi pointed out. �That makes it official. As a detective you are bound to deal with the dregs of society, so I think it is appropriate.�

She had the uncharitable thought that it perfectly encapsulated the ex-residents of the hollow moon, whom Newbrum authorities had regarded for years as no more than a bunch of smugglers, black-market traders and drop-outs. It occurred to Verdandi that having a grateful insider willing to keep an investigative eye upon things could prove useful.

�Gosh,� murmured Ostara, staring at the certificate with shining eyes. Verdandi smiled wryly, picturing it taking pride of place on her office wall. �I don�t know what to say.�

Ostara rose from her seat and shuffled to the door, still transfixed by the document in her hand. The Administrator�s charitable gesture had clearly left a lasting impression.

�Good luck,� said Verdandi. She had a horrible feeling she would live to regret this.

Captain Momus was a small, wiry man with thinning dark hair, a ragged moustache and a nasal Black Country accent peppered with minor curses that often had others reaching to switch on their wristpad translators. He was one of the many settlers from Great Britain�s self-governing region of Mercia, attracted to Newbrum back when it was known as New Birmingham, who mostly worked in the engineering workshops of the spaceport. Momus was an astro-mechanic who had decided to train as a pilot, which made it all the more mystifying as to why his ship had failed safety tests due to lack of maintenance.

Newbrum Spaceport was in a linked concrete dome, north of the main city enclosure. Quirinus and Zotz found Momus in the departures lounge, moping by the window that looked out into the section of dome that served as a hangar. He wore a blue Commonwealth Space Agency flight suit that was far too clean for someone who professed to be a mechanic. At his feet was a large canvas bag, upon which lay a black cat, curled up and apparently asleep. On the far side of the lounge Zotz noticed a holovid reporter talking to a hovering camera robot and wondered what was going on at the spaceport that was news-worthy.

�Hullo Quirinus,� mumbled Momus, looking downcast.

�What happened to your ship?� asked Quirinus. Momus� gaze flickered to the small delta-winged freighter in the hangar, roped off from the rest of the concourse.

�The crappy airlock door fell off,� Momus said sullenly. �A few loose screws, it was.�

�You don�t say. What now?�

�I got us some tickets for the shuttle. Free of charge, before you ask.�

�Free tickets?� Quirinus gave him a hard stare. �I don�t believe it.�

�One-way only,� admitted Momus. �The folks up on Stellarbridge seem frigging keen for you to come and take away that crappy heap of a tanker.�

Zotz looked up from where he knelt next to the cat, which had awoken and was idly chewing upon a battery-powered torch its claws had extracted from the bag�s side pocket. He had been entrusted to look after Ravana�s electric pet while she was away but as yet had not worked out how to stop it eating random electrical items.

�The shuttle?� he asked, pricking up his ears. Momus� freighter was cramped and incredibly uncomfortable. �We�re going in a proper spaceplane?�

�Looks like it,� replied Quirinus. �Is there a reason why Ravana�s cat is here?�

Momus shrugged. �The crappy mangy thing ran from your room when I collected your things. I tried to put it back but those claws are frigging sharp.�

�Jones is not mangy!� protested Zotz. To prove his point he picked the cat up and cradled it to his chest, only to discover the electric pet�s fur was covered in grease. Their lodgings at Aston Pier were next to the spaceport�s flying boat terminal and Zotz had heard Quirinus say that Newbrum attracted dirt from across the five systems, though he may have been referring to the shifty pilots and down-trodden crews who also resided there. Zotz saw both men regarded the cat with some disapproval.

�I want Jones to come with us,� he said meekly. He lowered the pet to the floor and wiped his hands on his flight suit. �I sent it a message to meet us here.�

�A message?� Quirinus� one visible eye narrowed. �It can read now?�

�Can we buy it a book on hygiene and frigging manners?� remarked Momus.

�I wired a wristpad circuit to its AI unit,� Zotz explained sheepishly, referring to the organic artificial intelligence chip inside the electric cat�s head. �Me and Endymion have been experimenting with its programming. I hope Ravana doesn�t get cross.�

Quirinus sighed. Bellona�s elder brother Endymion, who worked at the spaceport, had recently taken up lodgings at Aston Pier. He and Zotz had become as thick as thieves.

�Let�s get on this shuttle,� he said at last, trying to ignore the cat gently clawing at his ankles. �We have a long trip ahead of us.�

Ostara staggered into her office and dropped the box she carried next to the others, perched precariously on the battered desk that was the only piece of furniture in the dingy grey-walled room. Endymion gallantly held the door open for her, looking exhausted and ready to drop. At the sound of an alarming creak Ostara reached to steady the desk, the legs of which looked close to collapse. Endymion did not look any better.

�You look worn out,� she observed. �And you only carried two boxes of the six!�

Endymion gave her a hurt look. Living all his eighteen Terran years in the low-gravity environment of Ascension had made him tall, lithe and largely incapable of what Ostara heard his Nigerian-born parents call �proper hard work�, for what the low-gravity did for height was not good for maintaining muscle. Looking dizzy, he leaned against the desk and promptly fell over as the whole lot crashed down, shedding the contents of the boxes across the bare floor.

�Whoops,� he murmured, climbing to his feet. �Sorry about that.�

Ostara sighed. �The last tenants left the desk behind, so I assumed it was already on its last legs. They don�t make cheap chipboard furniture like they used to.�

She knelt to retrieve the contents of the fallen boxes. Endymion, looking guilty, bent down to help and uttered a note of surprise when he saw what he had helped to carry.

�Books!� he exclaimed. �Made of real paper! Where did you get them from?�

�There was an auction at the market hall last week,� Ostara told him, picking up the nearest volume. �Some old woman had passed away and her next of kin did not want to come to Ascension to collect her things. She�d brought loads of antique books with her when she emigrated from Earth and was a big fan of detective novels. Aren�t they fantastic?�

�A Study in Scarlet,� read Endymion, looking at the titles of the uniform green volumes. �The Hound of the Baskervilles, The Sign of Four. What are these?�

�A complete collection of Sherlock Holmes stories,� said Ostara. �Published in the early twenty-first century, back before everything went digital. Have you never heard of Sherlock Holmes?� she added, seeing his blank expression. �Arthur Conan Doyle?�

Endymion shook his head. After placing the books in a neat pile upon the floor, he reached for the picture frame that lay face-down beneath. Turning it over, he read the title of the framed certificate and grinned.

�A permit to inspect the sewage system,� he said, trying to suppress a laugh. �With bits crossed out and �Private Investigator Licence� written across it.�

�Signed by Administrator Verdandi!� snapped Ostara, snatching it from his grasp.

�Is that going on the wall?�

�Of course!�

Endymion smiled and got back to stacking the fallen books. Ostara stood up in a huff and moved to the far wall, upon which hung another relic of the previous occupier; a faded picture of kittens playing with a ball of wool. Swapping this for her framed certificate, she tossed the cute cat picture into the recycling chute and stepped back to admire her handiwork. The certificate was if anything slightly less impressive than the tacky artwork it replaced, but in her mind�s eye she could see the dream, one where a broken desk and pile of books furnished the bustling headquarters of Newbrum�s premier detective agency.

The loud hiss of a hovertruck drew her attention to the open window. Lifting the blind, she gazed upon Sherlock Street below. The dome roof, barely two hundred metres high above Circle Park, was much lower here and the low-rise buildings intruded a little too far into the false sky. Her office was above a row of fast-food restaurants in downtown Newbrum, not far from the city�s southern wall. The smell of Asian cuisine and chatter of voices wafted past the cracked glass of her window in a soothing harmony of humanity. Two boys kicked a football in the street, while further along an elderly man was staggering out of the Ye Olde King�s Head public house and yelling obscenities at a young couple hurrying past. It was a scene so timeless it was easy to forget this slice of life existed on a barely-habitable planet orbiting a star six light years from Earth. It never ceased to amaze her how people seemed to be able to make their home in the unlikeliest of places.

�Would you like me to do anything else?� asked Endymion, interrupting her thoughts.

�I think that�s it for now. You�ve been most kind, helping me like this,� said Ostara, turning away from the window. She saw Endymion glance at his wristpad, as if to check the time. �Are your folks expecting you back? I know you�ve probably got people to do, things to see. Or even the other way around.�

�I�m in no rush,� he replied and sighed. �I don�t live at home now, anyway.�

�You don�t?� Ostara was surprised. �How come?�

�I managed to get me a place at Aston Pier. My folks argue all the time since dad lost his job and Bellona is acting all weird with this Dhusarian Church stuff, so I moved out,� he told her. �The room is tiny but it�s a cool place to live, with all the space pilots and so on. The Brits call it Aston-super-Mare. It�s supposed to be a joke but I don�t get it.�

�Isn�t Quirinus staying down that way?�

Endymion nodded. �I see him and Zotz quite a lot. Ravana is away at the moment.�

�Digging up dead aliens in Tau Ceti, I know. Would you like some tea?�

He shrugged, then nodded. �I�ll see if I can fix the desk,� he offered, as she headed for the small kitchenette next door.

By the time she emerged a few minutes later, Ostara saw he had not only managed to slot the dislodged desk leg back into position and arrange the boxes into makeshift seats, but had also found a broom from somewhere to give the floor a quick sweep. The air sparkled as the dim red light from the window caught floating motes of dust.

�So,� said Ostara, handing him a steaming mug of tea. �Do you like my new office?�

�It�s got potential,� he admitted. �A detective agency sounds really cool. Does that mean you�re in Newbrum for good?�

�There�s no going back to the Dandridge Cole for a while,� she said. �You saw what the Platypus did to the sun. Even if it can be fixed, it will take a lot of work to bring the farms back to life and get the hollow moon self-sufficient again.�

They had both been aboard the freighter when it crashed into the tiny artificial sun, which fortunately had been suffering a power loss at the time. Her mention of the hollow moon�s farms made Endymion smile. She thought of the animals the refugees brought with them, many of which now terrorised squirrels and small children in Circle Park.

�There was a ship in from Yuanshi just last week,� Endymion told her, inadvertently revealing he too was thinking of their past adventures. �We don�t often receive flights from Epsilon Eridani and this one was odder than most. It was met by people from Bellona�s church, though the passengers kept themselves hidden the whole time. Verdandi was furious that we let them into the city without ever seeing who was aboard.�

�They�re a weird lot at that church,� Ostara remarked. �No offence to your sister.�

�None taken. It stuck in my mind because of Ravana being away doing her archaeology. I took a peek at the ship�s flight log and saw it had been to Falsafah a few weeks before,� explained Endymion, then sighed. �It�s been an odd week at the spaceport. The police were around earlier, asking space-traffic controllers about any unusual activity around Thunor. They think something has happened to the workers on Sky Cleaver and are sending a ship to investigate.�

�Unusual activity?� Ostara asked, mildly intrigued. The CSS Sky Cleaver was the deep-space equivalent of an oil rig, placed in a low orbit around Thunor to extract hydrogen and helium-three from the gas giant�s atmosphere.

�There�s been no word from the crew for ages,� Endymion told her. �The police say it was probably an accident. You know, someone forgot to close an airlock, or rats got aboard and chewed through life support systems, or they all got food poisoning or something.�

�That�s horrible!�

�It�s a dangerous job,� mused Endymion, thoughtfully sipping his tea.

Ostara frowned. Endymion was usually more than ready to go into graphic detail as to what unpleasant and gory fate awaited the unwary in space, but his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. Ostara decided she was not much of an investigator if she did not ask.

�Something on your mind?�

Endymion paused and gave his cheek an absent-minded scratch. �The Dhusarian Church in Newbrum is really getting big,� he said slowly. �I thought it was just another fad, a harmless crack-pot religion and with Taranis gone it would fade away. But this alien god thing is becoming a cult and drawing all sorts of people in.�

�Like your sister?�

�Mum and dad are worried about what she�s getting into,� he said. �So am I.�

�Is it worth investigating? I happen to know a detective who�s looking for work.�

Endymion laughed. Ostara�s face fell, reflecting that Verdandi herself had hinted there was no demand for a detective agency in Newbrum. Endymion�s casual remark about Taranis also unsettled her, for she effectively had been an accomplice to the priest�s murder, though it now crossed her mind that they had never made sure of Taranis� fate after blasting him and his creations into space. She felt Endymion�s eyes upon her as she glumly contemplated the contents of her mug and wondered what he was thinking.

�Maybe that church does need looking into,� Endymion said. �I�d do a bit of snooping myself but Bellona would only accuse me of being sneaky.�

�You want me to spy on her instead?�

�Maybe. I can�t afford to pay you,� he said hurriedly. �I could pick up some bits of furniture for your office, if that helps.�

�I�ve got nothing else doing,� Ostara admitted. �Perhaps it is best that I practice my detecting before I start charging for my services.�

�Then you�ll make a few enquiries?�

Ostara smiled. �Let�s see what the Dhusarians are up to, shall we?�

Zotz gazed out the window at the slowly-rotating wheel that was CSS Stellarbridge, the two-hundred-metres-wide orbital station that served as a passenger terminal and trading post for ships unable or unwilling to drop through Ascension�s atmosphere. He sat strapped into the navigator�s seat on the flight deck of the Indra, watching as Momus slowly backed the huge tanker away from the static docking pontoon that emerged axle-like from the centre of the wheel. Quirinus was in the co-pilot�s seat, holding Ravana�s electric pet to his lap and clearly uncomfortable at not being at the helm. The Indra was far bigger than anything Momus had piloted before and in the wrong hands could easily knock Stellarbridge out of orbit. It was only when the end of the pontoon finally slipped past and began to recede into the distance that Quirinus visibly relaxed.

�We�ve got about twenty minutes before we break orbit,� he said, squinting at the console before him. The Indra was designed for pilot-less operation, but the flight deck had basic controls and life support so maintenance crews could fly the ship manually if needed. �Once the main engine has fired it�ll take about seven hours to reach the Dandridge Cole.�

�Aye aye, captain,� said Momus. �Or in your case, is that just one aye?�

�Very funny,� muttered Quirinus. He self-consciously touched his eye patch.

The ship began a lateral rotation and the brown planet below filled the view as they turned away from the space station. The Indra was shaped like a squashed airship, right down to the fabric skin that cocooned the spherical holding tanks clustered either side of the ship�s cylindrical spine. The control cabin was at the front of the spacecraft, with a cramped engine room that served the single plasma drive unit at the rear. The hollow central spine was currently stripped of its inflatable gas tanks, a hurried modification made before the tanker gallantly carried the people of the hollow moon to safety. This narrow corridor, three metres in diameter and a hundred and fifty metres long, had seen four hundred people and their valuables, noisy air-processing units, temporary toilets and assorted livestock all jostling for space. It had been a trip few could forget, despite all attempts to try.

Momus leaned back in his seat and idly flicked a switch on the console. The flight computer responded with a sarcastic beep and then a click as automatic systems moved the switch back to its original position. Quirinus gave the pilot a scornful look.

�Crappy autopilots,� muttered Momus. �It�s frigging boring flying one of these heaps. What happened to proper ships that relied on real people to fly them?�

�They all fell apart due to lack of maintenance,� Quirinus retorted.

�What about the shuttle?� asked Zotz. �Is that a proper spaceship?�

�Just going up into frigging orbit and back down again? Give me a break.�

�Momus used to fly shuttles,� Quirinus told Zotz. �Then one day he thought it would be clever to attempt a docking with Stellarbridge without using the automatic pilot. He was showing off to some girlfriend riding in the cabin with him. You can still see the dents today.�

�Momus dented the space station?� exclaimed Zotz, his eyes wide.

�I was talking about the dents in his head. His girlfriend was a kick-boxer.�

�Crappy shuttles,� muttered Momus. �It�s no life for an adventurer. I should be out there in the black; finding new stars, new systems, new worlds! Not plodding towards a bloody asteroid in a frigging gas bag like this.�

�Beggars can�t be choosers,� mused Quirinus. Zotz caught his wink and reflected it was this philosophy that had saddled them with Momus in the first place. �The Indra is all we�ve got until the Platypus or your own ship is fixed.�

Momus snorted in derision, then froze as he caught Quirinus� stern glare.

�Remind me,� Quirinus murmured coolly. �Who�s paying you to be here?�

�You are,� Momus replied meekly. �Though I�ve yet to see any actual credits.�

�I miss my Platypus.� Quirinus sighed. �I wonder how Wak is getting on?�

�Shall I give dad a call?� asked Zotz. He reached for the bag wedged beneath his seat and pulled out his touch-screen slate, causing some of his spare underwear to float free in the process. �We�re close enough to the servermoon for a holovid link.�

Quirinus shrugged assent. Ascension�s servermoon, a kilometre-wide satellite relay crammed with data banks and an extra-dimensional transmitter, was one of many that enabled near-instantaneous communication across the five systems. Interstellar spacecraft could use their ED drives to send packets of data to the nearest servermoon. The Indra had only a standard transceiver, but Zotz quickly confirmed they were close enough to the Ascension relay to avoid irritating signal delays. The Dandridge Cole had its own ED transmitter.

�Just calling him now,� Zotz remarked. He clipped the slate into a slot on the console.

He stared startled as the screen lit up in a flurry of movement. Grunts of exasperation wafted from the slate�s speaker, then came a glimpse of panic-stricken ashen features beneath an unruly mop of ginger hair. Green tendrils swept across the screen, writhing angrily against the arm attached to the transmitting wristpad. As the watchers on the Indra stared in disbelief, the owner of the arm wrestled free from his attacker and staggered back to safety. The face of Professor Wak, the Canadian chief engineer aboard the Dandridge Cole, appeared before his wristpad lens. He gave a weary wave with his other hand.

�Quirinus! Zotz!� he called, sounding as tired as he looked. �Good to see you!�

�What the hell is happening there?� exclaimed Quirinus. On the screen behind Wak, something long and green hung from the ceiling in great loops like a basking snake, visibly twitching. �It looked like you were being attacked!�

�I was!� Wak retorted irritably. �By your damn ship! These weird growths are all over the blasted place, lashing out every time I try to remove them!�

�Weird growths?� asked Momus, perturbed.

�Woomerberg Syndrome,� Quirinus told him, not bothering to explain.

�Wow,� murmured Zotz. Taranis� secret experiments released growth hormones into the hollow moon�s life-support systems, causing strange tendrils to erupt from the Platypus� organic AI unit. Judging by the image on the screen, they had grown considerably since he last saw Quirinus� ship. �That�s amazing!�

�I told you not to touch them,� Quirinus told Wak. �Ravana was convinced they saved the ship. It was Fenris� bomb that caused the crash, not those things.�

�I don�t like them,� Wak said sulkily, scratching his head in exasperation. �It�s not natural, having stuff growing through the ship like that. Especially when hell-bent on strangling me every time I reach for the wire cutters. Even touching them with my false hand is enough to set them off.�

�It�s only the AI,� Quirinus pointed out. Wak still lacked a proper replacement for his damaged artificial left hand and the temporary repairs did look a little scary. �How would you react if someone tried to cut bits off you? Talk to it. Reason with it!�

�Reason with a machine?� scoffed Wak.

�Isn�t your repair crew all robots anyway?�

�And mostly unreasonable. Are you on your way?�

�We�ve just left Stellarbridge,� Zotz told him. �Captain Momus has broken his spaceship so we�re coming in the Indra.�

Wak smiled. �I hope you�ve been behaving yourself with Quirinus!�

�As good as gold,� Quirinus told him. A pair of pants floated past his face and he frowned. Zotz blushed and quickly snatched his underwear away. �How�s my ship?�

�It needs a lot more work but the hull repairs are complete,� Wak told him. �I know you�ve come to lend a hand, but as you have the Indra I need you to go to Thunor. We leaked a lot of fuel when we lost Reactor A and the main tanks are running low.�

�The Indra doesn�t need a pilot for that,� Quirinus protested.

�I contacted Sky Cleaver a while back and they insisted on a personal visit,� replied Wak, sounding apologetic. �I�ve tried to find out why but there�s been no reply.�

�Newbrum Police have sent a ship to investigate,� said Quirinus. They had all heard the spaceport rumours. �They think there�s been trouble out there.�

�They were very annoyed at having their planet-leave allowance reduced, I know that much,� Wak told them. �Have you heard from Ravana?�

�She�s due to call tomorrow. The dig is in the middle of nowhere so she only gets the chance when the University�s ship visits to deliver supplies.�

�It doesn�t seem right, everyone scattered across the five systems like this,� Wak said sadly. He brushed away the tendril slowly descending to his shoulder. �The hollow moon is such a cold, dark place at the moment. I wonder if it will ever be the same again.�

�Ostara says hello, if it counts. And you�ll soon have me and Zotz for company.�

�And me,� added Momus, sounding indignant at being left out.

�Oh yes,� Wak muttered. �And Captain Momus. Beggars can�t be choosers.�

Bellona crept nervously into the darkened hall and found a seat near the back. The Dhusarian Church of Ascension met in the basement of a residential block near the western edge of Newbrum�s dome, in a hall that once hosted bingo and karaoke nights. Even now the remains of faded posters advertising talent competitions and super prize days could be seen, peeking from beneath the brightly-coloured banners that church members had strung across the walls in an attempt to make the hall their own. The latter left a reader in no doubt it was a place of worship, declaring such things as: �IN THE BLACK SEEK ONLY THE GREY�, �TRUE WISDOM SHINES FROM ABOVE� and the more confusing, �ALL THAT IS PART DOES BELONG�. The low stage was backed by a large black curtain, upon which was a silver six-pointed star with a swirl at the centre, the symbol of the Dhusarian Church.

Rows of chairs filled the floor. Bellona was surprised to see that nearly every one of the sixty or so seats was taken. The dim orange glow from the telepathy transmitters above the pews did little to dispel the dark, but it was clear that amongst the congregation the old were outnumbered by the young; most of whom, like Bellona, new converts to the faith.

A latecomer took the seat next to her. Selene, the girl at school who had first invited Bellona to the church, looked darkly mysterious with her clingy long black dress, ghostly pale skin and garland of artificial grey flowers adorning her long purple hair. As usual, Bellona felt fat and frumpy in her faded school flight suit, sitting alongside her slim and effortlessly-cool classmate, but the smile she gave Selene was that of a grateful friend.

At the top of the hall, a tall and muscular young man walked onto the stage. An old bingo machine had been draped with yet another banner to become a makeshift lectern. Bellona had yet to be formally introduced to Captain Nyx, who by day was a police officer in Newbrum and the youngest ever assigned his own ship. Nyx habitually wore a long black cape in a style popular amongst Dhusarians, along with neo-Victorian garb inspired by the vampire romances currently enjoying yet another revival on holovid. He had the same pallid complexion as Selene, with slicked jet-black hair and eyes concealed by the dark lenses of the latest enhanced-reality shades. The custom amongst star-faring settlers of naming children after figures from mythology was well-established, yet the rumour was Nyx had made the decision himself to adopt the name of the Greek personification of the night.

The man took hold of the lectern and savoured the hush of anticipation.

�There are no gods but the greys!� he proclaimed, in a voice surprisingly rich for one so young. �Praise be the ancient guardians of the stars! They are the noble teachers who have given us a glimpse of their wisdom through the writings of the Isa-Sastra!�

Bellona leant forward, eager to catch every syllable. In her hand was her own copy of the fabled Book of the Greys; unlike the holographic versions most had on their slates, hers was an old-fashioned tome of bound paper pages with a worn grey cover. It had belonged to Fenris, a man who once worked for the priest Taranis himself. Bellona had come across the text after Fenris� death and kept it secret, for somehow it made her feel special, as if the book�s unique providence had the power to elevate her above others.

�The Dhusarian Church is the light in the black!� announced Nyx. �It is written that the greys, the mighty galactic travellers of infinite insight, will one day return to lead the twelve kingdoms of humankind. That time is near!�

�Praise the greys!� cried the congregation, all except Bellona who missed the cue.

�Tonight, we are truly honoured,� Nyx continued. �Our pleas to the Third Temple of Yuanshi have been answered. This is the day the Dhusarian Church of Ascension welcomes our planetary guides, our teachers, our saviours!�

�Praise the greys!�

Bellona gasped as two figures stepped from the shadows and approached the centre of the stage. Both wore long grey cloaks, with hoods that masked their faces. Nyx stood to one side and bowed deferentially. The monks stepped up to the lectern and with hidden stares regarded the eager faces of their congregation.

�The power of the greys!� cried Bellona with the others. �In your head be it!�

The monks lifted their hands in triumphant six-fingered salutes.

�zz-aand-bee-iit-iin-yyoouurs-zz!� they screeched.

GOVANNON �ABERYSTWYTH� JONES, head of exoarchaeology at Bradbury Heights University, stood and watched as a second laser-mapper drone swooped through the confines of the dome to join the one already hovering over the end of the trench. Deep in thought, his left hand idly flipped his trowel like a one-handed juggler, leaving his right free to idly scratch his stubbly chin and push up the rim of his battered wide-brimmed hat. The heat beneath the low-roofed dome was stifling, he had not taken a shower all week due to water rationing, their last supply trip brought rats to the site and outside there was nothing but desolate desert as far as the eye could see, but none of that mattered. Today was a good day to be an archaeologist.

�Hestia!� he called, addressing the pink-haired stocky student who knelt with her back to him in the nearby pit. She was doing her best to brush away the layer of fine red sand that seemed to come back as soon as it was cleared. �That�s enough for now.�

The girl turned and nodded at the sound of his sing-song tones. Abandoning her task, she made for the ladder at the edge of the trench, raising a fresh cloud of dust with her feet. The original five-metre square pit had this morning been lengthened another couple of metres towards the northern edge of the dome. The desert sand was so fine it had to be kept at bay by an ugly system of poles, wires and plastic panels. Hestia had done well to tidy the mess left by the automatic excavators and Govannon regarded the trench with a keen eye.

In the centre of the three-metre deep pit was the dark, mysterious feature recorded in the site report simply as �the arch�, a name that barely did it justice. The graceful curving structure stood at the end of two parallel walls, the latter a metre and a half apart and sloping up from the south, all made of the same neat bricks of volcanic-like glass. To the shabbily-dressed archaeologist it was the stuff of dreams, for this wall was twelve light years from Wales and considerably older than the legacy King Offa had left behind to tantalise him as a child. Thermoluminescence dating across the site confirmed the same thing; whatever it was that had created the strange silicon bricks had done so a hundred thousand years before humans had even considered stepping foot on Falsafah.

The latest extension to the trench only served to reveal another layer of mystery to the enigma. As Govannon returned to scratching his chin, he looked not at the arch but beyond. Careful excavation had uncovered an adjoining triangular-topped mass, corresponding exactly to the ghostly desert shadows of an earlier survey. It was the southernmost spur of a perfectly-symmetrical six-pointed star, built of the same bricks seen elsewhere, one that the geophysical study showed extended northwards beneath the sand maybe sixty metres or more.

�What do you think it is, Doctor Jones?� asked Hestia, coming to his side. Her choppy hairstyle was now streaked with blue, transformed by bioelectric fibre-optic extensions woven into her own mousy tresses. �The entrance to an alien temple?�

�There�s no such thing as aliens!� muttered Govannon, irritably.

�The Dhusarian Church uses a six-pointed star as its symbol,� Hestia pointed out.

�So does Judaism. The work of alien rabbis, is it?�

�It must be alien!� she protested. �You said it was too old to be built by humans.�

�It could be a natural phenomenon,� he suggested weakly. �An outcrop of volcanic magma. One that somehow crystallised into a regular shape, see?�

�With a door?�

Govannon looked to where Hestia pointed. The arch was sealed by a recessed wall of silicon blocks, which at a glance could be taken for bricked-up door into the triangular spur. Despite the early discovery of a strange script carved on the nearby wall, Govannon stoically maintained that the arch was nothing more than the remains of an unusually-regular volcanic vent, yet the hard evidence of what had already been coined the �star chamber� severely shook his resolve. He had spent his academic life exposing the sensationalists of the archaeological world who saw evidence of aliens in almost every ancient ruin, for he had long ago become convinced that humankind was alone in the universe. Here in the Arallu Wastes he had found enough evidence to destroy a lifetime of arguments. With a sigh, he turned his gaze towards the waiting laser-mapper machines.

�Three-dimensional scan,� he instructed. �Full spectrum analysis.�

The drones began their methodical plotting of the trench. The expedition was able to work on the inhospitable planet without survival suits thanks to three inflatable-walled domes, forty metres in diameter with airtight doors every ninety degrees for interconnectivity, each kept in place by desert rocks heaped into external perimeter troughs. Govannon heard the soft thump of boots upon sand and turned to see a figure approaching from the connecting tunnel to the neighbouring dome.

He was still not sure what to make of Professor Cadmus. The burly English academic was supremely qualified and an alumnus of both Oxford University and the renowned Institute of Archaeology, University College London. Govannon�s assumption that his colleague would share his views on the non-existence of ancient aliens was rocked when Cadmus revealed he was on Falsafah as chairman of the recently-established Que Qiao Alien Encounters Board. Govannon, having visited Daode in Epsilon Eridani, remembered with affection how the local Que Qiao government were quick to discredit all sightings of the legendary alien greys. That the corporation had such thing as an Alien Encounters Board was puzzling.

�Doctor Jones!� called Professor Cadmus. He waved to Govannon with the touch-screen slate in his hand. The brown jacket and trousers he wore made him look every bit the academic, an image reinforced by a grey square-cut beard in a style most agreed had never been in fashion. �I need you to sign off the site report. I trust your records are up to date?�

�All but the context scans for this one,� Govannon told him, raising his voice against the buzz of the mapper robots. Using the tip of his trowel, he pointed to the tiny rotor-driven machines whizzing up and down above the new extension to the trench. �I�ve only just got the drones back from your lot on trench fifteen.�

Professor Cadmus had barely kept away from Govannon�s work at the arch over the last fortnight. He went to the edge of the pit and peered at the triangular edifice, singularly unconcerned that his presence would be captured by the scanning equipment and recorded for posterity. Govannon was more worried about the panels and wires reinforcing the trench, which were visibly buckling under the strain of keeping the weighty professor away from the business end of a minor landslide. Hestia retreated to a safe vantage point behind Govannon, having caused an embarrassing trench collapse the day before.

�Impressive,� Cadmus remarked. �Did you find time to take samples of the glass?�

�Bagged and logged,� confirmed Govannon. �I had a quick look under the microscope and it has the same weird cellular structure we saw before, like a silicon version of fossilised wood. I�m guessing the main outcrop is of the same origin as the vent, see?�

�You mean the tomb and the doorway?�

�We still have no proof that this is an artificial structure!�

�Of course it is!� snapped Cadmus. �Does any of this look natural? Here we are, standing on the eve of the greatest discovery of all time and still you deny what is laid plain before your eyes. Be serious, man!�

�Standing on the eve, is it?� retorted Govannon. He leaned wearily against a convenient wheelbarrow. �It�s you on the edge of that trench I�m worried about.�

Cadmus smiled and stepped back from the pit. �Why do you still doubt? Are you not as keen as I to prise open that door and see what wonders are waiting beyond?�

�Door, is it? All my eyes see is��

�You need to look beyond what you can see! Can you not open your heart and mind to the possibility of what we may have discovered here?�

�I am not prising anything open until we get clearance, see!�

�Don�t be so officious! The past belongs to all.�

�Since when has our dear sponsor been so magnanimous?� retorted Govannon. It had recently come to light that funding for the excavation had come from the Alien Encounters Board and thus the Que Qiao Corporation, for reasons not yet made clear.

�The Dhusarians think we�re desecrating a holy site,� added Hestia.

�And no doubt that idiot Dagan will take great pleasure in reminding us of that if he�s still hanging around the depot,� said Govannon. A young Arab man and self-proclaimed defender of the Dhusarian faith had made his presence known during their previous visits to meet their ship. �I�m sure it was he who sabotaged the �risor so it wouldn�t serve tea.�

�I�m in charge here on Falsafah!� declared Cadmus. �We are archaeologists, scientists, seekers of the truth! What happened to the thrill you felt barely two weeks ago when the desert revealed what lay beneath? Both you and that student helping you could hardly contain yourselves! What was her name?�

�Ravana,� said Govannon. �She was a good kid. It was a shame she had to leave.�

�She had no doubts about what we�ve found here. Why have you?�

Govannon opened his mouth to reply, wondering whether the professor was aware he had caught Ravana trying to compare the carvings with the very odd version of the Dhusarian Isa-Sastra on her slate, then shrugged.

�Tell him what you found,� prompted Hestia. �The oxygen tank.�

�I still need to make sure it�s not one of ours!� hissed Govannon.

�What�s that?� asked Cadmus. �A tank?�

Govannon nodded. �It was just below the surface, barely a metre away from the vent. I mean the arch,� he corrected, seeing the professor�s steely glare. �It�s a small cylinder from a survival suit, though an old design. But the stratification is very muddled. We discovered overlapping areas of infill, see? It�s almost as if the site has been excavated before.�

Cadmus raised a surprised eyebrow. �Can you put any dates to that?�

�Optical dating in the south of the trench falls within a similar range to the rest of the site,� Govannon told him. Quartz within the glass, bleached by ancient sunlight, once buried had slowly baked in the background radiation of Falsafah�s desert sands. Optical dating, or optically-stimulated luminescence, was a way of using the resulting atomic changes in the quartz to estimate how long the mysterious structure had lain undisturbed beneath the sand. �The dates suggest the desert encroached within a thousand years or so after it formed. We�re talking about events a hundred thousand years old, so it�s hard to be accurate.�

�After it formed?� asked Cadmus. �After it was built, you mean.�

Govannon ignored the interruption. �However, there was a disturbed area to the north above your so-called arch, see?� he continued. �Optical dating suggests it was exposed to sunlight a mere twelve thousand years ago. It�s curious, but the infill was localised and cuts through two metres of sand. There�s also signs of more recent activity.�

Cadmus� eyes narrowed. �The cylinder you mentioned?�

Govannon shrugged. �It may have been buried by one of the students as a lark.�

�I understand you even accused Xuthus of carving those symbols,� said Cadmus, shaking his head sadly. �I think you know your students better than that!�

�You have your theories,� Govannon replied softly. �I have mine.�

�Yet we have but one site report to compile,� the professor replied. �Which, as I said, needs to be updated before we meet the ship. Hopefully, my superiors have had time to chew over the last instalment and are ready to give us permission to open that door.�

�Volcanic vent!�

�Whatever,� sighed Cadmus wearily. �Just write your damn report.�

Xuthus shifted uncomfortably upon his kneeling pad, which did little to ease the throbbing pain in his back that had been building all morning. He had scraped away at a section of wall for what seemed like hours and the screech of trowel against glass that so annoyed fellow student Urania was no longer funny. His overalls were crumpled, his pale skin was streaked with dirt and sweat, his hair felt disgusting and his knees hurt almost as bad as his back. He tried to tell himself he was fortunate to live in Bradbury Heights, where the city�s academy allowed sixteen-year-olds with the right aptitude to start university two years early, but archaeology was not as fun as he had hoped.

Xuthus and fellow student Urania were working in dome three, where a series of shallow trenches had uncovered a right-angled stretch of wall and a number of fossilised tree stumps in regular rows. Urania knelt a few metres away, engrossed in cleaning one of the black stumps near the wall. She was an attractive dark-haired woman who wore her long hair in a loose ponytail and her overalls tightly belted. Like Xuthus, Urania had started her archaeology studies that year, though was five years older. Her parents, aerospace workers from Rio de Janeiro, were struggling to find regular work in Newbrum and Urania juggled several part-time jobs to fund her dream of becoming an archaeologist. In contrast, Xuthus and Hestia came from wealthy, middle-class American families who owed their good fortune to the Que Qiao pharmaceutical companies in Bradbury Heights.

�Had enough?� Urania asked, glancing up from her own task.

Xuthus grinned, captivated as always by her smile and lilting Brazilian accent.

�This is boring,� he said. �I want alien bones, long-lost treasure!�

�You�ve been watching too many holovids,� said Urania and gave a little laugh. �Most archaeology is back-breaking and tedious, especially when you get someone like Aberystwyth Jones who doesn�t trust automatic excavators.�

�Why do you call him that?� Xuthus asked irritably. Doctor Jones had chastised him for using his nickname, but annoyingly still allowed the girls to do so.

�He�s from Aberystwyth,� said Urania. �It�s a joke! You must have seen the movies. Indiana Jones and the Golden Fleece of Sirius was on Ascension Freeview last month.�

�Aberystwyth Jones,� muttered Xuthus. �Hilarious.�

�Here�s the man himself,� she added, pointing over Xuthus� shoulder.

Doctor Jones, Professor Cadmus and the ungainly figure of Hestia had just entered dome three. The tunnel-like walkway to the west led to dome one, which contained a pair of habitation cabins, another series of short trenches and an airlock leading south into the small hangar containing the life-support plant and the expedition�s transport vehicle. Dome two was to the north of dome one and it was here that the mysterious inscribed arch and star chamber had been found. Xuthus could not help feeling jealous that it was Hestia and not himself whom Govannon had asked when looking for an extra pair of hands.

�Aberystwyth!� called Urania. She raised her trowel in a mock salute.

Govannon waved back. Xuthus perked up at the prospect of a break from the hot, sweaty conditions and a tedious morning�s archaeology in the trench. Today marked the end of week six of their ten-week expedition and the day they got to leave the dome for their fortnightly trip to meet the ship. The excursion was a welcome change of scenery, while having fresh food and a proper shower in a cool air-conditioned spacecraft was a rare luxury between each two-week spell under the domes. What he was looking forward to most was the chance to speak to his mother and father back on Ascension. The expedition�s tiny fusion power plant was not up to supporting an ED transmitter on site and so there was a general rush to use the one aboard the ship whenever it was on Falsafah.

Professor Cadmus, Doctor Jones and Hestia arrived at where Xuthus and Urania were busy in the trench. Hestia made straight for Xuthus� area and greeted him with the smile of a best friend, which annoyed him no end. She had acted this way ever since Christmas, when his family had joined hers at their ski resort cabin in Kirchel, where an unfortunate series of events led to Hestia saving him from being eaten by a mad mechanical wolf. In his eyes, being rescued by a girl was embarrassing, which did not make them friends.

Urania, having glanced at the time display on her wristpad, took their arrival as a cue to stop work and climbed to her feet, trowel in one hand and kneeling mat in the other. As the academics walked slowly along the edge of the shallow pit, Xuthus noted that while Doctor Jones appeared genuinely excited by the work he and Urania had done in the trench, Professor Cadmus seemed almost bored. Govannon paused above the fossilised tree stumps and gazed along the neat row Urania had uncovered. Each jagged stub was half a metre wide and some had visible growth rings.

�Good work!� he declared. �That�s incredible evidence of climate change, see. It puts me in mind of the fossilised forests found in Antarctica after the thaw.�

�I suspect the plantation had ritual significance,� remarked Cadmus. It was a stock explanation much beloved of archaeologists when confronted with a mystery. �The stumps appear to be arranged in a very regular pattern.�

�Coincidence!� snapped Govannon.

�Perhaps trees on Falsafah were just better behaved,� said Urania, giving Govannon a sly wink. �Born with a natural instinct to stand in queues, like you English.�

�I�m Welsh!�

�What about the wall?� asked Xuthus, feeling his own hard work was being unfairly overlooked. �If it was an orchard, perhaps the wall was to keep people out.�

�People, is it?� Govannon frowned. �Mesolithic humans in Tau Ceti?�

�I meant aliens,� murmured Xuthus.

�Aliens!�

�Greys?� offered Urania.

�It seems the logical explanation,� said Cadmus.

�Perhaps this is where Neanderthals disappeared to,� Hestia solemnly quipped.

Xuthus scowled, embarrassed by her attempt at a joke, though no one else appeared to be listening. Govannon turned away, muttering obscenities under his breath. Seeing Urania grab one of the wheelbarrows and head for the exit ramp, Xuthus picked up his own bucket and headed after her. By the time he and Urania returned from the spoil heap, Govannon was walking back towards the tunnel to dome one, taking his grumbles with him.

�Curious man,� mused Cadmus. �Fallen off the boat to Thebes, that one.�

�Sorry?� asked Urania.

The professor gave a weak smile. �He�s in denial.�

The transport parked in the hangar had been loaned to the expedition by the Que Qiao maintenance crew who occasionally visited Arallu Depot, the nearest supply base to the excavation. The six-wheeled vehicle was of the type commonly used on airless worlds throughout the five systems, though this one was more battered than most. The whole hangar had to be depressurised before the main doors could be opened, which did put a strain upon the life-support plant that maintained a breathable atmosphere throughout the complex. For this reason, trips outside were a rare and special treat.

�I�m not coming with you,� announced Professor Cadmus, arriving late at the hangar. �I�ve noticed an error in the site report that needs to be corrected before it goes.�

�We can wait,� said Govannon.

Behind him, Xuthus paused in the midst of lugging the last of the empty water barrels across the hangar, perturbed by the men�s conversation. Hestia and Urania were out of earshot, busy with the job of linking the toilet and waste disposal trailer onto the back of the transport. The torrid heat and lack of air circulation fans within the metal-roofed hangar was not helping the mobile toilet unit smell any better.

�That�s hardly fair on the students,� said Cadmus. �The ship is on Falsafah for just a few hours and you know they look forward to a bit of time away from the site. I can get the update to you via the short-range transmitter before it leaves.�

�Don�t you want to speak to your bosses yourself? Give an oral report?�

�I confess I�m feeling a little under the weather.� As if to illustrate his point, Cadmus gave a brief grimace, clutching his stomach as he did so. �A mild touch of food poisoning, I fear. It�s my own fault for eating that rather ripe cheese last night.�

�Cheese? The girls used what was left three days ago when they made lasagne.�

�In that case, it�s definitely my fault for eating something masquerading as cheese,� said the professor with a smile, then winced again. �I�ll be fine! You and the students need a break. I don�t want to keep you here on my account.�

�You do realise we�re taking the poop-mobile with us,� advised Govannon, glancing over his shoulder to where Hestia was heaving the heavy trailer onto the towing hitch. Impressively, she was using just one hand so the other could hold her nose. �It badly needs to be emptied but that�ll leave you with nowhere to go if your bowels demand likewise.�

�I�ll manage,� Cadmus reassured him. �You need to get going!�

Govannon gave a shrug and watched the professor walk back into the dome. For some strange reason Cadmus had now developed a limp.

�Is he not coming with us?� asked Xuthus, sidling closer.

�It seems not,� mused Govannon. �Professor Cadmus appears to be inflicted with a debilitating case of bad acting and needs to lie down for a while. Shall we make a move?�

Xuthus frowned, puzzled that anyone would want to pretend to be ill on today of all days, but nodded and trotted obediently towards the rear of the transport. Hestia was helping Urania carry the final load of empty food crates through the vehicle�s hatch. Govannon moved to close the airlock to the domes and then paused, for on the far side of the dome beyond, a distant figure was hurriedly making his way into the tunnel to dome two. Xuthus looked to see what had caught Govannon�s attention and frowned again when he saw that the professor�s limp had miraculously disappeared.

�Fine,� Govannon muttered. �Drool in peace over your so-called aliens!�

Professor Cadmus paused at the end of the tunnel and listened to the dwindling roar of the hangar�s air escaping into the Falsafah atmosphere. Moments later, he felt a faint quiver at his feet and pictured the heavy transport trundling away into the Arallu Wastes, then this too faded to leave just the familiar background hum of the life-support system. On the other side of dome one, red lights flashed at the hangar entrance, warning the unwary that the airlock was sealed and the outer hangar door open.

�Finally!� he murmured. �Time to do some proper archaeology.�

He reached into his jacket and withdrew his slate from the large inside pocket designed for such a device, eager to read again the last message from his sponsors. Tau Ceti�s sole servermoon orbited the more hospitable world of Aram, which due to freak planetary geometrics was always on the opposite side of the sun from Falsafah. The University had been denied formal access to the Que Qiao Lagrange communication relay, which otherwise allowed non-ED signals to reach the servermoon without being swamped by radiation pouring from Tau Ceti itself, so had to rely on visits from the expedition�s ship to send messages home. What Doctor Jones and his students did not know was that Cadmus was secretly in touch with his employers on Earth via the local Falsafah police.

As an experienced archaeologist, Cadmus was uneasy that his Alien Encounters Board sat within Que Qiao�s huge research and development agency. He had been equally disquieted when he learned his new employers knew of his standing within the Dhusarian Church, something he had concealed from fellow scholars for many years. Yet the latest message from Earth, not to mention his sneaky peek several weeks ago at what the student Ravana had on her personal slate, left him in no doubt he was on Falsafah for all the right reasons.

In no time at all he was standing once more on the edge of Govannon�s new trench in dome two, gazing down at the exposed corner of the star chamber. Lifting his slate, he thumbed the touch-screen display and read again the all-important missive from Earth:

Professor Cadmus smiled and tucked the slate back into his jacket. A visit to the nearby tool store equipped him with an oxygen mask and a fully-charged lantern. After clipping the mask and lamp to his belt, he picked up a mattock, walked to the ladder and descended to the bottom of the trench.

Moving cautiously, he entered the space between the excavated parallel walls and idly brushed his fingers against the smooth surface, all the way to the sharp edges of the strange hieroglyphs etched into the ancient glass. Before him stood the two-metre graceful glass arch that Cadmus knew had been raised by alien hands. Down in the pit, the resemblance to a doorway was stronger than ever.

�Knock knock,� he murmured, lifting the mattock. �Anyone home?�

Arallu Depot was two hundred kilometres south of the excavation. Despite the lack of a road, the easy terrain made the journey possible in four hours. The Arallu Wastes lay on an ancient coastal plane, north of a desiccated ocean and west of a range of mountains forced up by long-dormant tectonic activity. Satellite radar imaging had long revealed a cluster of unusual structures half-buried alongside dry river beds, some of which were intriguing enough to justify maintaining a supply depot in Arallu at one of the few spots where water could be pumped from the ground. Surveys produced endless evidence of ancient plants and animals, including massive fossilised skeletal remains of creatures that defied description and awaited proper scientific study. It was these ancient bones, coupled with the fierce winds that now carved the once-fertile delta, that had led early Arab explorers to name the bleak, dreary region after the mythical abode of the dead.

Tau Ceti hung low in the west as the expedition�s transport arrived at the airstrip. The spaceplane Sir Bedivere had landed and stood linked to the enclosed walkway projecting from the small terminal building on the far side of the depot�s dome. The silver ship was a sleek, stubby-winged Skylon Interstellar Mk IV, the latest of a successful line of Earth-class spacecraft to come from the Rolls-Royce aerospace factories of Mercia. The university had chartered the ship for the duration of the expedition, though Govannon was convinced the reason the crew never wanted to stay on Falsafah any longer than necessary was because they were flying black-market deliveries on the side.

The transport slipped past the wind-pump tower with its ferociously-spinning vanes, through the shallow pool of water left by leaking pump-head pipes and onwards to the rear of the dome. The depot�s transport hangar was part of the terminal building, the roof of which was covered by solar panels that powered the electrolysis plant, which in turn extracted hydrogen and oxygen from the underground stream. After getting too close to the spaceplane during an engine test, Govannon preferred to go the long way around.

�Are we there yet?� asked Urania, teasing him. She sat next to him at the front of the vehicle, having beaten Xuthus to the seat normally taken by Professor Cadmus.

�Funny girl,� Govannon muttered wearily. Urania had not stopped talking throughout the four-hour journey and it was this, not the long drive, that had exhausted him. �Do you want me to send you back to Ascension?�

�Is that what you did with Ravana?�

�Cadmus said she just got fed up and went home,� replied Govannon.

�She left all her stuff behind,� said Hestia. �Her clothes, slate, everything.�

�Good riddance,� muttered Urania. �Bitch.�

�Urania!� exclaimed Govannon. �There�s no need for that!�

�She�s one of those refugees from that crazy asteroid,� retorted Urania. �There�s hundreds of them at Newbrum, all wanting our jobs. Besides, who goes around with a face scarred like that? That sort of thing is easy to fix these days. She�s a freak.�

�She�s not!� snapped Xuthus, shocked at Urania�s outburst. �She�s really brave and clever. I was there in Epsilon Eridani, when she and her friends made the news after finding the kidnapped Raja.�

�It sounds like you fancy her,� Urania sneered.

�I liked her,� said Hestia. No one was listening to her.

�I do not fancy her!� cried Xuthus.

�That�s enough!� Govannon said sternly. Urania�s views of the refugees were no doubt inherited from her parents, but given her own status as a recent immigrant to Ascension he was surprised at her attitude. �If I find that Ravana left the dig because she was being bullied, there will be trouble, see!�

�But�� started Xuthus.

�Big trouble,� Govannon reiterated, looking at each of them in turn.

The transport slipped into the hangar airlock. It took barely a minute for the chamber to be pressurised, yet each second that ticked by seemed longer than the last. Eventually, the inner door slid open and the vehicle trundled forward into the hangar. Govannon�s heart sank at the sight of a familiar microlight aircraft parked in the corner of the hangar, then cursed as he spied its owner watching from the doorway to the transit lounge. Dagan, the eager young activist with camouflage-patterned flight suit, slicked-back dark hair and oily moustache, quite fancied himself the revolutionary. Govannon had been looking forward to a relaxing few hours at the depot�s makeshift bar, catching up with the latest news from the ship�s crew, but with Dagan around he knew that was unlikely to happen.

�Look out,� he muttered. �There�s a Dhusarian about.�

�What does he want?� Urania said irritably.

�To praise the greys,� Xuthus intoned solemnly. �And bring our deliverance!�

Govannon brought the vehicle to a halt. Urania, Xuthus and Hestia were already out of their seats, eagerly making their way to the transport�s airlock. Arallu Depot was no bigger than the domes at the excavation but it was the only change of scenery they had to look forward to until they returned to Ascension.

�Hey!� called Govannon. �Can someone give me a hand with the poop-mobile?�

�Hestia will do it!� called Urania, who was already at the hatch.

The transit lounge of Arallu Depot was little more than a metal-walled shed, furnished with a scattering of plastic chairs and a battered food molecularisor that no longer served tea. By the time Govannon and Hestia entered, having spent several smelly minutes manoeuvring the toilet trailer across the hangar to the cesspool valve, Dagan was nowhere in sight. Nor were Urania and Xuthus, though Urania�s loud cackle could be heard wafting down the walkway tunnel from the docked spaceplane. Govannon knew there would be a queue to use the ship�s ED transmitter and decided to head for the peaceful sanctuary he liked to call his own. Leaving Hestia to join her fellow students, he made his way to the far side of the lounge and down the short tunnel leading into the main dome.

The towering walls of shipping crates and discarded machinery that filled the windowless dome looked the same as ever. Near the entrance to the lounge, one empty and particularly large crate had been turned on its side and furnished with a metal counter, a row of stools and one second-hand robotic bar steward serving the best micro-brewed draft lager this side of Tau Ceti, topped by a sign that read: MORRIGAN�S BAR. Govannon had no idea who Morrigan was but admired his or her foresight in establishing such an oasis out here at Arallu. Apart from a tiny habitation module nearby, the bar was the only concession to home comforts to be found within the warehouse-like environs of the dome.

The depot was unmanned, though visiting maintenance crews and the local Que Qiao security team made sure its life-support and other systems were kept in order. Govannon stopped short upon seeing a figure slouched upon his favourite stool at the end of the bar, then cursed when he realised it was none other than Dagan. The activist had previously admitted he had been recruited by the Dhusarian Church on Aram, with the aim of reminding the archaeologists at every opportunity of the Church�s consternation over the exploitation of ancient alien remains. Govannon was convinced Dagan had taken his task a step further and embarked upon a campaign of sabotage to drive the archaeologists away.

�Dagan,� growled Govannon. �What are you doing here?�

The man turned and greeted the archaeologist with a sly smile. Behind him, the robot bartender trundled to the bar in anticipation, its head swaying disturbingly as its wheels stuttered upon the uneven floor.

�Doctor Jones,� acknowledged Dagan. �Don�t tell me you�ve abandoned your hard work out in the desert? Holy sites don�t desecrate themselves, you know.�

�That�s a little hypocritical coming from Falsafah�s one-man terrorist cell.�

�Terrorist?� exclaimed Dagan. �How dare you! I fight for what�s right.�

�Any attack on a tea vending machine is terrorism to me, see!�

�Tea is a symbol of urban decadence. It cannot fulfil your spiritual needs,� Dagan said solemnly. �Don�t get too comfortable. This bar is also on my list.�

Ignoring him, Govannon took the seat at the other end of the bar.

�Would you care for a drink, sir?� asked the robot. There were several dents in its oddly-contoured head. Its humanoid upper body had once worn the traditional livery of a butler but rust had badly discoloured the plates upon its chest.

�Lager,� said Govannon. �Ice cold.�

�What have you found out there?� asked Dagan. �The girl I spoke to last time said something about a temple, mysterious carvings and all sorts of fascinating stuff! You�ll be pleased to hear the fossils you found were warmly received by the Church.�

�Stealing samples, is it?� accused Govannon. �What have you done with them?�

�They are holy relics and should not have been removed from sacred ground! Your archaeology is no more than the systematic destruction of history. What else have you done in the name of science? Perhaps I need to take a closer look.�

�You would not be welcome.�

�No,� said Dagan. �But neither are you.�

He rose from his seat and regarded Govannon levelly. When the archaeologist failed to respond, he walked smartly from the bar and out of sight. Govannon sighed and reached for the schooner tumbler the robot placed upon the bar. His long-awaited sip resulted in an unexpected assault upon his senses and he spluttered in disgust.

�What the hell is that?� he exclaimed, shoving the tumbler back across the bar.

�Warm reconstituted goat�s milk,� the robot replied. �I regret that due to a recent data infection, I can no longer serve the full range of beverages.�

Govannon gritted his teeth. Sabotaging the molecularisor and taking away his supply of tea was bad enough, but the bar was his holy ground.

�Dagan!� he muttered. �This means war!�

Xuthus looked at the pilot, puzzled. The surly red-faced Englishman had on several occasions expressed distaste at being on some far-flung frontier planet and not in his old job ferrying wealthy tourists around the inner Solar System. Yet it was Xuthus� question about Ravana that had led the man to scowl and screw his face into a peculiar defensive frown.

�I don�t know where she is,� the pilot snapped. �She didn�t come back with us.�

�Then where is she?� asked Xuthus.

�Are you asking after your girlfriend?� called Urania, looking around from where she hogged the holovid console. �Are you upset she ran out on you?�

�Ravana is not my girlfriend!�

Xuthus wished he had waited until the girls had gone before asking. Just then, the co-pilot appeared from the airlock, having been outside to connect the ship�s fuel hoses to the depot�s hydrogen tanks. The tall Jamaican had not yet taken off his pressure suit and the bowl-shaped helmet under his arm looked far too small to contain the mass of dreadlocks tumbling from his smiling features.

�Hey mon,� he greeted, nodding at Xuthus. �What�s your grief?�

�He�s worried about Ravana,� said Hestia, who up until now had sat quietly unnoticed at the back of the cabin. �Nobody seems to know where she went.�

�The freaky Indian girl?� asked the co-pilot. �Not seen her at all today.�

�How about last time we were here?� asked Xuthus. �A fortnight ago?�

The Jamaican shook his head.

�I did see her last time,� the pilot admitted. �She was talking to that Dhusarian nutcase down by the bar when the rest of you were in here waiting to use the transceiver. He�s a weird one, that Dagan. Gave me some leaflet on aliens.�

�And she definitely did not return to Ascension on the ship?� asked Xuthus.

�I�ve already said as much!� the pilot said irritably. �What�s wrong with you, boy?�

�Don�t stress,� his co-pilot told Xuthus. �Your lady friend will be somewhere. You need some egg to smooth things out, make you mellow? I can do you a good price.�

�You�re dealing drugs?� Xuthus looked shocked. Egg was the name given to an illegal yet popular mood-enhancing drug out of Epsilon Eridani. �I�ll tell Doctor Jones.�

�Hey, chill out,� the Jamaican purred. �I ain�t no pusher. This is just between friends.�

�No thanks,� Xuthus said firmly.

�So where did Ravana go?� asked Hestia. Xuthus saw her concern and assumed rather uncharitably she was trying to impress him.

�Probably crawled under a rock somewhere,� muttered Urania. �Or Dagan�s alien friends came along and whisked her away to the planet of the bitches.�

�Urania!� exclaimed Hestia.

�Hey, that�s not cool,� agreed the Jamaican.

�Well, we haven�t seen her,� reiterated the pilot. �We�re just the taxi service. It�s not our fault if she went wandering off.�

Xuthus stared at him in disbelief, unable to comprehend how an adult could abdicate responsibility so easily. Yet Urania�s taunts aroused feelings of guilt, for he remembered how he had not stopped his friends bullying Ravana when they first met many months ago, at the floating market in Hemakuta on Daode. Ravana had been a very private person on site, but even though Urania had for some reason taken an instant dislike to her, he did not believe Ravana would have run out on them without letting them know why. He still remembered the infamous finale of the peace conference, when Ravana and Raja Surya had dared to confront Yuanshi�s political leaders before hundreds of delegates and millions of holovid viewers. The girl who took the stage that night would not let someone like Urania get the better of them.

He would mention Ravana�s disappearance to his father when Urania finally got off the holovid unit, but in the meantime Xuthus knew he should take his fears to Doctor Jones. Even talking to Dagan might prove more fruitful than trying to get any sense out the crew. He did not want to contemplate the horrible possibility that Ravana had somehow ended up outside the dome.

�She can�t have just vanished,� he said. �How far can you get on a dead planet?�

�Falsafah ain�t as dead as it looks,� said the Jamaican, giving him an odd look. �I�ve seen some mighty strange things out there.�

�That�s because you take too much egg,� his colleague pointed out.

Ignoring Urania�s giggle, Xuthus stared through the cockpit windows at the endless bleak desert beyond the landing strip. It was hard to imagine anything surviving out there.

�Thanks,� he said. �For nothing.�

Professor Cadmus paused beneath the arch and raised the lantern high above his head. The ancient door had yielded easily under his determined attack with the mattock, whereupon he had stood and stared for what seemed an age into the dark �Y�-shaped passage beyond. The star chamber was built of glass blocks as perfectly aligned as those of the grand gallery in Khufu�s pyramid at Giza. The moment he set eyes upon the meticulous architecture within he knew without a doubt that he was right, Doctor Jones was wrong and the mysterious construction on Falsafah was indeed the work of an unknown alien intelligence.

Years before in Egypt, Cadmus had led the team that discovered the secret vault behind the wall of the king�s chamber and been the first to gaze upon Khufu�s long-sought sarcophagus and treasures. The thrill he felt on that occasion was nothing compared to the fever that gripped him now. At Giza, he was lauded for finding the prize missed by countless archaeologists before him, but singularly failed to find the proof he personally sought that extra-terrestrials built the pyramids. Here in the Arallu Wastes was something beyond archaeology, beyond history; this was a discovery to make humanity a mere footnote in the universal story, the history of everything. To go it alone was a daunting prospect.

The floor of the entrance chamber sloped down and split into two tunnels, leading in different directions sixty degrees apart, equally dark and mysterious. The walls were bare and incredibly smooth to the touch, reflecting the light of his lantern with a muted matt glow. Cadmus slipped the oxygen mask onto his face, took a hesitant step forward and paused. His academic mind knew he ought to be recording his observations in some way. On the other hand, the adventurer in him suspected that after smashing the door to smithereens it was probably too late to think about doing things properly. With a determined step, he strode forward and on an impulse selected the right-hand tunnel.

He did not get far. After no more than twenty metres the passage veered again to the right, continued for the same distance to a sharp left, then carried on a little further before ending at a solid wall. Undeterred, Cadmus retraced his steps, carefully scrutinising the walls and ceiling along the way to make sure he had not missed anything. Once back at the entrance chamber, he barely paused before heading down the other passage to the left.

Around twenty metres later this passage veered left, mirroring what he found in the right-hand tunnel. As expected, when he had gone the same distance again, the passage turned sharply right, only to split into two parallel tunnels, the right one sloping down. Confused, Cadmus shuffled to a halt and shone his light down the descending passage, conscious that the trench entrance was now far behind. Without the lantern the darkness would be absolute.

�A labyrinth,� he murmured, his words muffled by his mask. �Crafty aliens.�

His suspicious were confirmed when a quick exploration of the right-hand tunnel led him around a bend to another dead end. Upon returning to where the original passage split, Cadmus took a few steps down the left-hand tunnel and then stopped to root through his pockets for a piece of chalk. He was just about to leave a mark to help him find his way back when something further along the wall caught his eye. Curious, he shuffled across to look and then gasped. Barely a metre away along the same wall was a neat white cross. Someone or something had been here before him and had the same idea.

He returned the chalk to his pocket, his hands shaking. As far as he was aware his expedition was the first to excavate at this spot, but the cross on the wall and Govannon�s earlier remarks about the odd stratification and a buried oxygen tank were making him think again. Yet he was certain there were no published archaeological reports on Arallu.

He lifted a cautious finger to the cross and found it was indeed white chalk. With a casual sweep of his jacket sleeve the mark was gone. This was his moment in history and he wanted nothing to suggest otherwise.

�This is my discovery,� he murmured. �Mine!�

�The past belongs to all, I think you said,� a small voice replied.

Cadmus froze. For a moment he thought he saw a small furry shape sitting on the floor ahead, then in a blink of an eye it was gone.

�Hello?� he called, his voice wavering. �Is anyone there?�

Silence greeted him like a heavy shroud.

�Anyone?�

There was no reply. Taking a deep breath, Cadmus swept the beam of his lamp down the empty tunnel before him and behind, then hesitantly walked onwards down the left-hand passage. He tried hard to convince himself that the silence and cloying darkness was playing tricks with his mind. Yet he was sure the voice had not been in his head.

A short while later the passage veered again to the right, after which there was an identical stretch of tunnel that ended in another sharp left and a split into parallel passages, the right-hand one once again sloping down. When he looked for a chalk mark, he found it in the left-hand passage as before, reinforcing the idea he was following in someone else�s footsteps. After hearing the strange voice, it was not a comforting thought.

He was beginning to understand the layout of the star chamber. He knew from aerial scans that the shape buried beneath the desert was a huge six-pointed star. It seemed he was moving clockwise within the outer wall, with every sixty-degree turn to the left followed by a hundred-and-twenty-degree turn to the right. As he followed the left-hand passage onwards, this deduction continued to prove true and two turns later he found himself at a sharp bend where again the passage split. Here he found another white cross, this time in the right-hand passage that descended into a darkness that felt thicker than ever. Pausing only to wipe the mark from the wall, he continued on his way.

Once again a familiar pattern emerged of gentle left turns followed by sharp turns to the right, though the gap between corners was shorter than before. Despite the sloping passages, the ceiling level remained unchanged and was now twice as high as in the earlier tunnels. Every sharp right-hand bend had the same parallel split as before, all marked with ever-familiar chalk marks that he removed as quickly as he found them. With each half-turn around the perimeter, the white crosses directed him to a deeper and more compact level. It dawned upon Cadmus that the labyrinth was a concentric set of star-shaped passages, linked together in a slow spiral to whatever lay deep at its centre.

After the twelfth cross Cadmus felt weary and subdued. The cloying darkness was making him hallucinate and on more than one occasion he was convinced he heard the patter of paws and a distant yet plaintive yowl of a cat. He had been in the chamber for almost three hours and was now so far underground that the light of his lantern no longer reached the ceiling. The narrow passage was nevertheless claustrophobic.

�My dear Professor Cadmus,� came a voice. �I think maybe you�re in too deep.�

Cadmus came to an abrupt stop and fearfully looked around into the darkness.

�Who are you?� he cried through his mask. �Where are you?�

A grey tabby cat ambled from the shadows. The professor stared at the apparition in disbelief, his mind doing somersaults. The cat regarded him solemnly, its yellow eyes glowing in the light of the lantern, then turned away to lick its fur.

�No pets are allowed on site,� Cadmus reassured himself. �Cats do not talk. Therefore, the creature sat in front of me washing itself is clearly a figment of my imagination.�

The cat paused in its ablutions and gave him a hard stare. All of a sudden, the four-legged phantom leapt dreamlike from the floor and promptly metamorphosed into a tall, raven-haired woman, dressed in a floor-length coat of silver and black fur. Cadmus gave a whimper and stepped back, fearful for his sanity. There was a god-like air to her that was both incredibly beautiful and unspeakably cruel, as if she would quite happily stab him to death with a hairbrush. The woman took a step forward, leaned casually against the wall and regarded the professor with a weary gaze. He was not surprised to see that within each yellow iris her pupils were dark vertical slits.

�You have no imagination,� she purred. �You profess to be an academic but you�re nothing more than a feeble-minded bureaucrat, just one more pawn in the great game. Do you really know why you are here, deep down in this forgotten hole in the ground?�

Cadmus took another step back. �Who are you?�

�Some things are best left buried,� she told him. �You don�t have to be one of them.�

�What?�

�Turn around!� she said, sounding impatient. Her accent, together with her olive complexion, made Cadmus wonder if she was Greek. �Go back! You�re almost out of oxygen. Do you really want to die down here?�

Cadmus glanced at the eye-level digital display of his mask. He had used almost three quarters of the contents of the tank.

�The chamber is open to the dome,� he replied, wondering why he was bothering to have a conversation with a mirage, even one remarkably informed. �The life-support plant will eventually fill the whole labyrinth with air.�

�Whatever,� she snapped. �Don�t say I didn�t warn you!�

Abruptly, the figure was gone. Cadmus stared into the darkness, breathing heavily into his mask and wondering if he really had just been talking to a woman who was maybe also a cat. Yet the dust upon the floor was undisturbed and there was no sign that anyone or anything had been in the passage with him. Eventually, his breathing became more regular. He pushed the strange warning into the back of his mind and stepped forward once more.

The distance between corners was now barely a dozen strides. The passage no longer split away to a lower level and his spirits rose with the thought he was near his goal. The third sharp bend on that level was indeed the last, for beyond the final chalk mark the tunnel curved gracefully into a tall archway that opened into the inky void at the heart of the labyrinth. Cadmus slowly turned to the arch, placed a foot upon the final slope and raised his lantern to the mouth of the pitch-black cavern beyond.

�Oh my word,� he breathed. �Incredible!�

The arch opened into a cathedral-like chamber some twenty metres across that rose into a dizzying darkness far above. The star-shaped ground plan remained, for in the light of his lantern he could see five triangular alcoves ascending like huge grooves to the distant ceiling, with the arch opening into the sixth. Yet all of this received a mere glance. Before him lay a tableau that baffled his archaeologist�s eye.

In the centre of the chamber sat a huge egg-shaped cocoon. It was at least three metres tall with dull green skin, an oval aperture that gave a tantalising glimpse into a dark interior and multiple-jointed spindly legs that sprouted from the top and folded to the floor. The cocoon lay partly-submerged in a dark pool of what looked like oil, which in turn was surrounded by a ring of twelve grey rods that rose to waist height. A narrow tongue extruded from beneath the oval opening and formed a bridge to the solid ground beyond the pool. The bizarre, multi-legged monstrosity looked like the work of a crazed taxidermist who had taken pieces of a giant insect statue and reassembled them into a surreal playhouse for the deranged. The mottled pattern upon its skin suggested a biological origin, but if it had ever been a creature of flesh and blood Cadmus was fairly sure it had breathed its last aeons ago. The archaeologist in him knew he had done wrong to expose the chamber to air, for the lack of oxygen would have preserved it well.

�A shrine, perchance?� he mused. The angular depths of the chamber swallowed all noise, reinforcing the aura of desolation. The idea that a multi-legged giant egg represented a strange alien deity lodged uneasily in his mind.

Curious, he stepped down the slope and into the vault. To his alarm the ground was not solid and quivered beneath his weight as if it were a sheet of stretched rubber. Cadmus cautiously circled the rods and swung his light towards another indistinct shape lying in the shadows beyond. When his eyes fell upon the dark bulbous body and tangle of limbs, an uncontrollable shiver ran down his spine and he gave a little yelp of fright.

�How gross!� he murmured.

Half-submerged in the floor were the remains of a huge spider, with a body a metre long and a tangle of legs that must once have stood nearly three metres tall. The carcass was a tarnished maroon colour, which to his surprise was sheathed in what looked like plates of armour. Cadmus was perturbed by the suggestion that the arachnid had somehow sunk into the floor and he backed away, not daring to take his eyes from the horrible sight.

There was something else behind the weird ancient cocoon. Cadmus stepped past the dead giant spider to get a better look and gasped in disbelief. In the shadows beyond lay a rounded capsule, about the size and shape of a human coffin. The faded emblem upon the white casing was the stars and stripes of the United States of America.

�But that�s impossible!� he muttered.

�Impossible?� came a familiar mocking voice. �Can you not open your heart and mind to the possibility of what you see here?�

The woman leaned casually against one of the upright rods, examining her black-lacquered fingernails with a tiger-like grace. Cadmus had to admit he had a hell of a vivid imagination when it came to creating this particular delusion.

�Oh,� he said, faking a weary nonchalance. �Little Miss Mirage is back to haunt me.�

�You ignored my warning.�

�Call me old-fashioned, but I tend to dismiss advice given to me by random cat women in dark tunnels,� he retorted. He glanced again at his face-mask display, wondering whether it was a lack of oxygen causing him to hallucinate. �As for opening my mind to the impossible, I assume my head must be a tad crowded right now if you�re already in there.�

�That�s the trouble with you humans,� she said and sighed. �Always putting your faith in the wrong thing. Back in the old days you had proper places of worship and would beseech us to walk the Earth. You think this is a temple? It�s no more than a morgue.�

�This alien, err� thing is buried with a human cryogenic survival capsule,� Cadmus said cautiously. �As I recall, the Americans experimented with them in the first half of the twenty-second century, before we had ships with ED drives. Yet this tomb is a hundred thousand years old. Would my dear mirage care to comment?�

�Not really, no.�

�Time travel!� exclaimed Cadmus. �The Americans invented a time machine!�

�Don�t be ridiculous!� she snapped. �You humans have enough trouble getting from one day to the next.�

Cadmus looked at the capsule and knew this was why his Que Qiao paymasters had sent him to Falsafah. Forgetting the cat woman, the egg-shaped cocoon and even the scary spider, he stepped closer to look. His boots kicked up a cloud of dust and for an instant he spotted a thin red line hovering above the ground, stretching from one side of the chamber to the other. Startled, he swept the lantern beam across the room and saw a small orange cylinder next to the entrance archway, fastened to the wall with a thoroughly-modern metal clamp. He was certain the amber warning light it flashed had not been visible before.

�Crap!� Cadmus cursed.

�Booby trap!� cried the woman, grinning. �Humans are so horrible to one another!�

With a surprising turn of speed, Cadmus leaped across the chamber towards the arch but reached it moments too late. The cylinder exploded with a roar and a blinding puff of smoke, punctuated by the cascading clatter of masonry torn from the wall. A shower of glass bricks crashed down and instantly pinned him to the floor.

�Help me!� he gasped. He tried to move, but his oxygen mask had been ripped from his face by the explosion and his struggles were becoming weaker by the second.

�I did tell you that some things are best left buried,� murmured the woman.

Lying in pain, Cadmus� eyes grew wide as she walked to where he lay and calmly regarded his smashed and dying body, trapped beneath the tumble of rubble. After one last disparaging frown, the woman vanished before his eyes in a cat-shaped blur. Cadmus� stare of terror froze like the breath upon his lips and he saw no more.

RED DUNES stretched as far as the eye could see. The black gravel road, the only evidence of humanity disturbing the bleak landscape, had long been left behind somewhere beyond the horizon as the stolen transport ploughed through shifting sands from one dry valley to the next. The air was hazy with dust from the ferociously-fast winds that whipped the sands into new shapes, lending an ethereal quality to the pale pink sky.

The occupants of the transport were safely sealed away from the cold and poisonous atmosphere outside, which had too little oxygen and far too much carbon dioxide for humans to survive outside unaided. Yet the unforgiving air buffeting the vehicle was almost as dense as that of Earth and Ravana had switched on the exterior microphones to flood the cabin with the eerie high-pitched hiss of the desert winds. Falsafah was as barren a planet she had ever seen, with a bleak natural beauty all of its own.

�I don�t like that noise,� grumbled Artorius, screwing up his face. �It�s horrible.�

Ravana pulled herself out of her reverie, deactivated the audio sensors and looked at the scanner display for any signs of pursuers. They had left the road and turned into the uncharted desert after the scanner picked up another transport hot on their trail. There had been a third signal hovering on the very edge of the scanner�s range for hours, one Ravana was convinced belonged to someone or something watching them but being very discrete about it. She had planned to keep moving until sunset, but Falsafah days were almost twice as long as those of Earth and she was desperately in need of some rest. When she tried to engage the transport�s automatic pilot, the navigation computer flashed a message telling her of its failure to locate some satellite and refused to do anything useful.

�We�re going to stop for a bit,� she said wearily. �I can�t drive anymore.�

She brought the transport to a halt in a dip between two dunes, pulled the gear lever into the �park� position and switched off the engine. The roar of the hydrogen plant had dropped to a murmur once free of the dome airlock, but the sudden absence of even this noise now they were out in the desert was startling. With a sigh of relief, Ravana stretched her aching arms and turned in her seat to see three expectant faces staring back at her.

�I�m hungry,� Artorius declared, looking glum.

�Thraak,� croaked Nana, seemingly in agreement.

�Fwack,� added Stripy. A spindly finger scratched what passed for a nose.

�Did you look in the lockers like I told you to?� Ravana asked Artorius impatiently.

The boy responded with a sullen stare. He had barely spoken during their travels and too many mysteries remained. Exasperated, Ravana clambered out of the driver�s seat and winced in the aching pull of gravity. She desperately wanted to sleep, but like her companions needed to eat. She was annoyed Artorius had made no effort to help.

Ravana gingerly made her way into the main passenger cabin and opened the nearest overhead locker. Her heart sank when she saw it was empty, even more so when the next one proved likewise. Dejected, she turned to the third and was relieved to find it contained a box of emergency rations, enough to feed herself and Artorius for a couple of days. Continuing her search, she checked the lockers on the other side of the cabin and found more food packs, a variety of drink cartons, a basic medical kit, blankets and a bundle of tatty overalls.

�Beef with noodles,� she said, handing a ration package and carton to Artorius.

He snatched it from her without so much as a word of thanks, greedily tore away the wrapper to activate the heating elements and scuttled into a corner to eat the now-steaming dish. Ravana became aware of two pairs of huge eyes staring at her and frowned. She had no idea what the greys ate.

�Don�t give them meat,� Artorius mumbled through mouthfuls of food, seemingly reading her mind. �It makes them be sick.�

�Thanks for the warning,� remarked Ravana. She examined the labels on the rations. �Mushroom risotto?� she suggested to the watching creatures. �Either that or some sort of nut roast. As usual, there�s not much choice for us vegetarians.�

The two greys cautiously shuffled forward and took one each of the offered packets, ripped off the covers and stared mournfully into what was inside.

�Fwack fwack?�

�Thraak.�

The greys swapped rations and began to eat, fingering the heated morsels into their mouths with much more delicacy than the frantically-shovelling Artorius. It was the first time Ravana had studied them properly and she was struck by their human-like movements and mannerisms. The greys were remarkably ape-like, albeit with the curious scaly skin that looked more like that of a lizard, with a stocky build and loose limbs that reminded her of an orang-utan. The Dhusarian Church�s cult-like worship of alien gods unsettled many people and most mocked the clich� of humanoid grey aliens. Experts in exobiology, such as those on Ascension studying the exotic flora and fauna in the Eden Ravines, also dismissed sightings of greys on the sensible grounds it was highly unlikely for a complex and intelligent alien life-form to have developed away from Earth yet still on a similar evolutionary path. Sitting before Ravana was living proof the experts were wrong.

She selected a mushroom risotto for herself, then frowned when she saw how few vegetarian dishes were left amongst the meat-dominated rations. Her legs throbbed and it was with some relief that she sat down to eat. The food tasted rubbery and had an odd smell she could not quite place, yet nevertheless was the best meal she had eaten in ages.

The ration pack restored Ravana�s spirits but did little for her weariness. She yawned every other mouthful and could barely keep her eyes open, her thoughts now on the long narrow bench and foam cushion just waiting to serve as a bed. Once she finished eating, she pulled a blanket from the locker, fashioned a pillow from the overalls and the transformation was complete.

�I need to get some sleep,� she told Artorius. His disapproving stare followed as she settled down upon the makeshift bunk. �You should rest, too.�

�I�m not tired,� he protested.

His words fell on deaf ears. Ravana�s eyes closed even before her head touched the pillow and moments later she was fast asleep.

Ravana awoke to darkness. For several frightened moments she was convinced she was back in her room at the clinic, then saw the star-spangled night through the windscreen and remembered where she was. Moving quietly, she slipped from under the blanket and stifled a curse as her bare feet found the broken remains of a dish on the floor. The jarring memory of the shattered flower pot quickly gave way to the realisation that Artorius must have clumsily rifled through the cupboards whilst she was asleep. As she knelt to pick up the pieces, she found herself smiling at the memory of Doctor Jones complaining that the one thing the Falsafah dig lacked was bits of broken pot.

Her mind felt rested and her tranquilised memories had returned in full. Her dreams brought back the real reason she had come to Falsafah, but for the moment she wanted to keep it to herself. Artorius lay asleep on the other bench with Stripy curled at his feet. For a moment Ravana could not see Nana, then saw the creature�s squat silhouette in the cockpit.

After a brief visit to the transport�s tiny toilet cubicle, she headed up front and sat next to the grey. Nana wore an old pair of overalls with the legs and sleeves torn away. It had not occurred to Ravana before now that the greys did not like being unclothed.

The grey�s gaze was upon the dark world outside. The sun that was Tau Ceti had set during Ravana�s slumber and the night sky glittered with the distant jewels of the universe.

�So which one is yours?� she whispered, not expecting an answer.

To her surprise, the creature pointed a spindly finger towards a bright star to the left of Orion, itself a constellation of stars so distant it looked much the same from every sky in the five systems. The star to which the grey pointed was not one Ravana could put a name to, but seemed too bright to be Epsilon Eridani, where the Dhusarian Church traditionally placed the mythical home of the greys.

�Thraak thraak.�

�You�re a lot smarter than you let on,� Ravana murmured.

She thought of her very first encounter with Nana on Yuanshi. Ravana had been just six years old at the time and unaware Taranis had people following her as she played in the woods, nor that they too had found the spacecraft wreckage and the injured grey hiding in a cave. For years she doubted her own memory, then at a traumatic reunion just months ago in the engine room of the Dandridge Cole had been forced to abandon the caged Nana yet again to save herself and her friends. It seemed fate had given her a second chance.

�Thraak,� Nana said sadly.

�I�m sure that was very profound,� mused Ravana, then wrinkled her nose in disgust as the smell of alien flatulence reached her nostrils. �Or maybe not.�

Nana looked sheepishly on as Ravana vigorously waved a hand to dispel the odour. As she waited for the vehicle�s air scrubbers to do their work, she switched the cabin lights on low, glanced across the console and noticed the navigation computer no longer flashed its warning. A few taps on the touch-screen display produced the welcome news that it had finally managed to link to Falsafah�s sole satellite.

Ravana quickly became absorbed in the newly-updated navigation charts. The dome containing the strange clinic and its cyberclone monks now sported the highly-unoriginal name of �Falsafah Beta�. When she opened the accompanying data file, she was intrigued to find it described as an abandoned research station belonging to the United States of America. A thousand kilometres to the north-west was another outpost, this time with no name nor data file, adding yet another mystery to the pile.

The satellite pin-pointed their own position, some three hundred kilometres due west of the dome. This sounded quite a distance until she saw that Arallu Depot, the airstrip and supply base near the archaeology expedition, was some six thousand kilometres away on the other side of a scary range of mountains.

The Arab Nations and European Space Agencies led the exploration and settlement of the Tau Ceti system. However, the administration of Falsafah was contracted to the Que Qiao Corporation, whose agents Ravana was keen to avoid. As for contacting the archaeology expedition, the transport�s communicator was a short-range device and its display made it clear only the Dhusarians� dome was within range.

Notwithstanding their predicament, it was another piece of seemingly innocuous information that settled uneasily upon her mind. The satellite had reset the console�s time and date display to Universal Standard Time. Without her wristpad, which Ravana assumed had been confiscated by the nurses, she had long ago lost track of the passing days. The display revealed she had been away from the dig longer than she thought. Two weeks had passed since her fateful visit to meet the supply ship at Arallu Depot. The archaeology team would now be on their way back from meeting the returned Sir Bedivere and with a sinking heart she realised her father would have waited in vain for her promised follow-up call.

�Rats,� she muttered.

�Thraak thraak?�

�No, it�s not looking good at all.�

A noise behind drew their attention to Artorius and Stripy, who were both now awake and staggering bleary-eyed around the dimly-lit cabin. The young grey also wore cut-off overalls, but for some reason had them on back-to-front. Ravana watched as Artorius helped himself to another packet of rations without offering one to anyone else.

�Fwack!� exclaimed Stripy, holding out a hand and looking indignant.

�Yes, I know.� Ravana sighed. �No manners at all.�

�Do you understand them?� Artorius asked, spitting food as he spoke.

�Not a screech,� she admitted, then remembered something the boy had said back at the clinic. �Can you? You told me the nurses made you ask them questions.�

�I can give you the translation program,� offered Artorius. �We can link implants.�

Ravana opened her mouth to object, ever cautious whenever the subject of implants arose, then realised he had gone ahead anyway. A new image popped into her mind, one that for a moment looked like a chess piece for a knight but instead quickly transformed into an hour glass. She wondered what her own implant icon looked like inside Artorius� head.

�All I see is a timer,� Ravana told him. �Filled with yet more sand,� she added in a mutter, gazing at the endless dark desert outside the window. Just for a moment she thought she saw a distant silver shape and two tiny yellow eyes glowing in the darkness of the dunes. She shook her head and dismissed it as a figment of her stressed imagination.

�It�s coming!� Artorius said grumpily.

Ravana waited, somewhat hypnotised by the animated hour glass. Artorius looked cross and screwed up his eyes in fierce concentration.

�Still waiting,� she told him.

�Why isn�t it working?� complained Artorius.

�Have you tried switching it off and on again?�

�My implant?�

�No, your brain,� snapped Ravana, feeling a headache coming on. �Artorius, we need to talk. Last night I was angry, tired and desperate to get out of that creepy place and I�m not sure I did the right thing bringing you with me. What did the clones want with you?�

�Clones?� Artorius looked puzzled.

�The monks. Brother Simha and Dhanus.�

�I saw two men in cloaks but the nurses kept me away from them.�

�Why were you locked up like that?� she asked. Her irritation was not helped by the hour-glass symbol still hovering in her mind. �Where are your parents?�

�They�re dead.�

�Oh. I�m sorry.�

�Eaten by a dinosaur.�

�Don�t joke about something like that!� scolded Ravana. She gave him a reproving look, but his expression was both sad and serious.

�It�s the truth!� he protested. �A robot Tyrannosaurus Rex.�

�What?� she asked, then bit her lip. �Oh, I see. Was that on Avalon?�

Artorius nodded glumly and went back to shovelling food into his mouth. Avalon was a terraformed moon of the gas giant Thule in the Alpha Centauri system. It was home to a variety of hit holovid shows, first and foremost being the long-running Gods of Avalon, in which third-rate celebrities took part in bizarre challenges in a land populated by cybernetic gods and monsters controlled by the votes of a vengeful audience. Ravana recalled that a spin-off show Quest for Fire had a prehistoric theme and stories often hit the news of ground crews being attacked by malfunctioning robots. The Alpha Centauri system had no government as such and the Avalon Broadcasting Corporation was a prime example of what happened when a big media company was given a free rein to chase ratings as it pleased.

�You should have the translator now,� said Artorius, interrupting her thoughts.

The animated hour glass in her thoughts had gone. Ravana brought up the implant control menu in her mind�s eye and saw a new icon in the shape of a pair of grey lips outlined in red. She gave the image a mental prod and the outline became green.

�Hey, Stripy,� Ravana said. She gave the young grey a friendly tap. �Say something.�

�Fwack?�

She had expected a literal audio translation, but instead her implant reacted to the grey�s utterance by flashing a series of vague images through her thoughts that suggested less poking and more food was the order of the day. Ravana looked at Artorius in awe.

�Wow,� she murmured. �That�s incredible!�

�Fwack fwack!�

�How did anyone manage to come up with something like this?�

Artorius shrugged, not seeming to care.

�But I could understand them! Stripy wants something to eat!�

�Thraak thraak,� added Nana.

�And Nana hates mushrooms!�

�Thraak thraak!� Nana repeated firmly.

�Well, if you don�t like them, it�ll have to be the nut roast again.�

The images created by the implant translator left Ravana feeling dizzy. The greys were more human-like by the minute and she was having to constantly revise her preconceptions of the mysterious creatures. Still somewhat dazed following the translator revelation, she turned up the interior lights and left her seat to fetch a selection of rations from the overhead locker. Artorius finished eating and hopped into the vacated driver�s chair to examine for himself the navigation computer display. It was not lost on Ravana that he still had not told her why he had been at the dome, locked in a cell.

�Breakfast,� she said, handing a couple of ration packs to Nana and Stripy.

She still had a million questions to put to Artorius, not to mention the greys, but had awoken from her slumber feeling distinctly grubby. She could not remember the last time she had a bath, her hair felt disgusting and she was very conscious of how bad she smelt. During her earlier trip to the toilet she discovered the transport had a shower cubicle and she was looking forward to a long soak.

�Where are you going?� asked Artorius, as she retreated to the end of the cabin.

�I need to wash that place out of my hair,� she replied. �Then we talk.�

An hour later, Ravana felt refreshed and ready to face the world once more. She took great pleasure in discarding the clinic�s green smock into the waste disposal unit and now wore a pair of the tatty but clean overalls and a pair of boots she had found in the locker, her damp hair wrapped in a towel from the shower room. She persuaded Artorius to use the shower in turn, during which she took the opportunity to study the navigation charts further over a bite to eat as she tried to come up with a plan of action.

The scanner had once again picked up a signal on the edge of its range. The satellite identified it as belonging to some sort of vehicle, though whoever rode inside appeared to be in no hurry to come closer. Switching on the transport�s short-range communicator gave only the hiss of static, adding to the overall sense of isolation.

Once Artorius finished in the shower, Ravana gathered them together in the rear of the transport, herself on the opposite bench seat to the others. Artorius looked quite comical in a pair of adult-sized overalls with the sleeves and legs rolled up.

�We have enough fuel to take us a good way round the planet,� she began. �There�s also sufficient oxygen aboard to maintain life support for at least two weeks. However, the food situation is not good. We have plenty of water, but only enough ration packs for two, maybe four days if we�re careful. That�s Earth days,� she clarified.

�Fwack fwack!�

�Where are we going?� Artorius asked. �Are you taking me home?�

�I will do my best to get you somewhere safe,� she reassured him. �But the only place I know is the excavation. Even if we ran non-stop, it would take five or six days to get there. The satellite chart shows another outpost two days north-west of here, but I have no idea if it is still in use, or if we can expect to find supplies there. Assuming we agree we don�t want to risk starving to death in the desert, we seem to have just one option.�

�Thraak?�

�We go back to the dome. We break in, grab supplies and then head for the dig.�

�No way!� cried Artorius. �I am not going back there!�

�We don�t have a lot of choice! Besides, you still haven�t told me why you were kept locked up like that. For all I know I might be harbouring a ten-year-old criminal mastermind!�

�I�m eight,� the boy retorted.

�So what�s your story?�

�The nurses said I was evil,� Artorius said sullenly. �They tried to teach me about the greys and their church but I kept getting it wrong. They said I was supposed to be king of a game but I was not behaving like one.�

�What?� Ravana stared at him. �That�s no way to talk to a little boy!�

�Thraak,� agreed Nana.

�I played with Nana and Stripy and talked to them so the translator could be made better,� Artorius said stubbornly. �The nurses said I was special because Nana and Stripy liked me but I was also very bad because I asked too many questions. They said the greys would one day save everyone and the people of their church were the chosen ones.�

�Fwack?� asked Stripy.

The boy scratched his head. �I don�t know,� he replied. He looked confused, as if the question had never occurred to him before. �I think they chose themselves.�

�But it�s good to ask questions,� Ravana protested. �That�s how you learn things.�

�They said everything I need to know is in their book.�

Ravana sighed. Her previous dealings with the Dhusarian Church had not left a good impression. Artorius� curious remark about being a king also rested uneasily upon her mind. The priest Taranis had once said something very similar to herself.

�Why did they think you were a king?� she asked.

�There�s a rhyme they made me learn,� Artorius replied, then unexpectedly began to recite a verse in a high-pitched halting monotone:

�I think you need to look up the definition of �rhyme�,� mused Ravana, though her mind was elsewhere. �Those lines are from the Dhusarian Isa-Sastra. I wonder��

Artorius looked at her oddly. �Why were you there?�

�At the dome?� she asked and sighed. �I was at Arallu Depot with the others, getting ready to travel back to the dig. I�d just spoken to my father, then went to fetch a drink and was surprised to find someone else at the depot with us. Everything after that is pretty much a blank. The medication the nurses gave me did strange things to my memory.�

�Did they also give you that yucky scar?�

�No!� Ravana retorted, defensively touching her cheek.

�Thraak,� Nana said sadly. �Thraak thraak.�

Ravana shuddered. Her implant had brought up a fleeting vision of the twelve clones standing around the fallen Fenris. Artorius looked at her with a most curious and almost awe-struck expression. She wondered what his own translator had shown when there were no relevant memories for it to draw upon inside the boy�s head.

�Lizard men!� he murmured.

�Half-human, half-alien cyberclones,� she corrected. �I saw them being born. Maybe that�s what they wanted me to forget.�

�Fwack fwack?�

�I don�t know why. Everyone in Newbrum must know the story by now so it can�t be to keep their existence a secret. Besides, I�d never have known they were here if they hadn�t whisked me away to their lair. None of it makes any sense.�

�They looked horrible,� Artorius muttered.

�Fwack,� agreed Stripy. �Fwack fwack fwack!�

�You�re getting very chatty,� remarked Ravana. �Anyway, we�re getting off the point. We need to make a move. I don�t really want to return to that place, but can�t think of any realistic alternative. We�ll sneak in, steal loads of food and then head for Arallu. With any luck we�ll be on our way again before they realise we�re back. What do you think?�

Artorius fell silent, his face creased in annoyance.

�Artorius?�

�I�m not going!� he retorted.

Ravana gave him a stern look. �It�s the only sensible thing to do,� she said.

�No!� he cried. �Please don�t take me there. I hate them!�

She was quite taken aback at how upset he looked. Whatever it was the nurses had put him through at the dome had obviously left its mark. The greys shifted uneasily upon the bench, sensing the tension.

�There is another option,� she suggested hesitantly. �As I said, there�s a base a couple of days drive from here. We may find supplies, but it could just as well be an abandoned settlement or an unmanned research station.�

�I want to go there,� declared Artorius, his face brightening.

Ravana paused. �On one condition,� she added. �If we have no luck finding supplies, we turn around and head to the Dhusarians� dome. Agreed?�

�Thraak.�

�Fwack.�

�Artorius?�

�I guess so,� he mumbled.

�Excellent!� said Ravana. �We have a plan!�

Now they were moving again Ravana immersed herself in the journey. The vehicle�s automatic pilot still would not engage, but she was happy to drive the transport manually, comforted by the feeling of being in control. They were a long way from the only road and she had to constantly peer ahead into the dark and concentrate on picking a safe route through the rocks and shifting sands. Behind her, Artorius was teaching Stripy a game which largely involved slapping each other. Nana looked on like an elderly aunt.

�Hey,� called Ravana, beckoning to the older grey. �Tell me about your home world.�

�Thraak?�

�Of course I�m interested!�

�Thraak thraak.�

�Yes, well up until now it has not been a good time!� retorted Ravana. �That star you pointed to earlier? I looked at the charts and I�m sure it was Procyon. I happen to know that no large planets have been found in that system.�

�Thraak thraak,� said Nana. �Thraak thraak thraak.�

�I didn�t understand a word of that. Can I have a clue?�

�Thraak thraak!�

�A moon, planet, space station?� asked Ravana. �How many syllables?�

�Thraak!�

�Fwack fwack,� added Stripy. The grey waved its arms in a bizarre mime.

�Is that some sort of vegetable? Or mineral?�

�Fwack fwack fwack!�

�Thraak thraak!�

Ravana shook her head irritably. The images generated by the translator made no sense and her thoughts reeled beneath the weight of a jungle-like entity writhing on the edge of her comprehension. In part she was reminded of the twisting light show of an extra-dimensional jump, the split-second visual rollercoaster that once witnessed from an interstellar spacecraft remained engraved upon a mind forever. The picture conjured up by Nana�s utterances felt more organic but somehow unconstrained by time or space.

�Weird,� she muttered and glanced to Artorius. �What did you make of that?�

�A tree in space,� he said solemnly.

�Really?� she remarked, bemused. �As good a description as any, I suppose.�

With a sigh, she returned her attention to the dunes ahead. The desert was far from uniform, for occasionally they would dip into a shallow valley and the sand would give way to rocky cliffs. As she looked now, the headlamps fell upon the first of a series of black stunted columns that rose from the dunes like rotten teeth. Artorius came to slouch in the seat next to her, bored of the slapping game.

�A fossilised forest,� Ravana told him. �Millions of years ago this was all trees.�

�No way!� exclaimed Artorius. Leaning forward, he stared through the windscreen into the dark valley. �What happened to it all?�

�Destroyed by global warming,� she said. �Falsafah is strange in that the other planets occasionally flip it into a new orbit. Astronomers think it used to be closer to Tau Ceti than Aram, where it overheated and became locked inside a layer of acid clouds, much like Venus in the Solar System. It�s cooled down a lot since but the air is still very poisonous.�

�How do you know?� he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

�I read up on it before I came,� she said. �I came to do archaeology, remember.�

�Are you digging for aliens?� he asked cautiously.

�Yes,� Ravana said solemnly. �Or what�s left of them.�

�Wow.�

�Satellite surveys keep finding formations in the desert that don�t look natural,� she told him. �It seems incredible looking at Falsafah now, but the professor leading our dig reckons that before it turned to desert it was a lot like Earth, with cities and everything.�

Artorius gave her an incredulous open-mouthed stare, his face a picture of disbelief. Ravana knew how he felt. Despite all she had seen at the excavation, she found it hard to imagine that life of any kind had once existed on such a desolate world, never mind an ancient alien civilisation. Falsafah�s counter planet of Aram on the opposite side of Tau Ceti was a lot more Earth-like, complete with abundant yet primitive native flora and fauna, but the Arab and European missions to colonise Aram had started just thirty years ago.

She was distracted by the scanner display, which had again picked up a signal at the edge of its range. The red square marking their unseen pursuer had last appeared to the east but now lay ahead to the north, directly in their path. Her fear rose when a second glance a few moments later showed the square had crept noticeably closer.

�Someone�s on to us,� she told Artorius, tapping the scanner screen.

�Thraak thraak?� asked Nana, behind them.

�How am I supposed to know?� retorted Ravana. �No one�s tried to make contact.�

Artorius peered at the screen. The transport gave an abrupt jolt as its wheels hit a rock and Ravana muttered a curse under her breath. The terrain outside was becoming more rugged and the dunes were littered with outcrops of sinister-looking boulders.

�I�ve changed course,� Ravana explained. The transport rocked again. �Our friend ahead is blocking the best route through this area. It may get a little rough.�

�The red square is coming closer,� Artorius said fearfully.

Ravana glanced at the display. Their transport came to the top of a rise and they saw a distant flashing light, with a faint glow of red and green navigation lights either side.

�Green to our left,� she muttered. �It�s coming straight for us.�

She switched on the transceiver but was again rewarded with nothing more than hiss. Ravana wondered whether it was her who was being paranoid and unfriendly, but as her hand moved to the �transmit� switch she paused, though more because she did not know who else might be monitoring the channel. On a whim, she accessed her cranium implant and mentally prodded the symbol for its inbuilt communicator, but her headcom too was silent.

�Have they come to get us?� asked Artorius, his voice wavering.

Ravana, peering warily into the dark, did not reply. The bleak landscape rose towards a rocky plateau to the west and the difficult terrain offered a chance to slow their pursuer. She resolutely turned the steering wheel and the transport began to climb away from the distant lights, wheels scrabbling wildly amidst a cascade of loose rock.

The transport shuddered over the top of a ridge and the ground fell away into a void. Ravana screamed, hit the brakes a split second too late and then stared in horror as their vehicle tilted with an agonising slowness over the edge, swinging headlamp beams down into the black shadows of an impact crater. Artorius shrieked, fell from his seat and was promptly pummelled by the greys skidding down the sloping floor to land on top of him. An ominous creaking grew more insistent as the rear wheels lifted from the ground, pulled by the weight of the nose of the transport hanging over the edge of the crater.

�Fwack!�

�We�re going over!� yelled Ravana.

The transport gave an almighty groan and slowly slid down the slope. Rock clawed into the belly of the hull, bringing forth a dreadful grating that mingled with their screams. Moments later, the vehicle crunched into the crater floor and everything went dark.

The base of the rocky pit loomed large through the windscreen. The emergency lights came on, flooding the cabin with a dim red glow. Ravana released a sigh of relief and relaxed her white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. Near her feet she heard a groan.

�The crater wasn�t that deep,� she murmured in relief. �Is everyone okay?�

�Stripy fell on my head,� complained Artorius. �Where are we?�

�Stuck in a hole,� she told him. �It could be worse.�

A sudden beeping noise filled the cabin, one that immediately raised the hairs on the back of her neck. The sound did not come from the blank lifeless screens of the console. Ravana heaved herself from her seat and clambered up the sloping floor of the passenger compartment, trying to find the source of the noise. It did not take her long.

�My mistake,� she said gloomily, as she peered at a control panel next to the airlock. �It is worse. Life support has failed. I think my detour just killed everyone aboard.�

�What?!� shrieked Artorius. �I don�t want to die!�

�Thraak!�

�Fwack fwack!�

�Quick! Search the lockers,� she urged. �There has to be emergency oxygen masks somewhere. I�m going to call for help.�

�Call who?� cried Artorius. He had gone as white as a sheet.

�Who do you think?�

Ravana dropped back into the driver�s seat and tried to switch on the communicator, but the console was completely dead. Undeterred, she activated her headcom and switched off the privacy settings to send an unrestricted public call to all within range. In the cabin behind, Artorius and the greys were frantically emptying every locker they could find and a constant stream of ration packets slid down the floor.

�Mayday, mayday!� cried Ravana. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Artorius jump as his own implant picked up her broadcast. �Can anyone hear me? This is an emergency!�

There was no reply. Yet she was sure she heard something faint in the background, as if someone was listening and debating whether to remain silent or not.

�Hello?� she called. �Is there anybody out there?�

�There�s no masks!� wailed Artorius. His voice shrilled with panic.

Ravana felt disorientated, her pulse raced and she had a blinding headache. With a sinking heart, she realised the transport�s hull had been breached. The cabin pressure was dropping fast, allowing Falsafah�s poisonous air to seep in from outside.

�Help!� she cried again. �We�re running out of air! We need help now!�

There was a pause, then a woman�s voice broke through her thoughts.

�I�m so sorry,� the voice said sadly. �It is not my place to intervene.�

�What!?� exclaimed Ravana. �Mayday! Help, please!�

She heard no more. It took all her remaining strength to climb to where Artorius and the greys were huddled near the airlock door. In the dim light she could see Artorius� flushed skin. Nana fumbled near the airlock controls, while Stripy lay still.

�Forgive me,� Ravana whispered. The voice in her head was forgotten as she pulled Artorius close. �I didn�t mean for this to happen.�

She fell to the floor beside him, each convulsing breath more shallow than the last. Finally, there was nothing more to do than close her tear-soaked eyes.

FELICITY FORNAX, the latest young and fiercely-ambitious recruit to the Weird Universe team of roving reporters, sat on the edge of her hotel room bed and scowled at the flickering images on the holovid unit in the corner of the room. The British Broadcasting Corporation�s Five Systems News was reporting on the archaeological dig from its studios on Aram, which despite being on the other side of the star system from Falsafah was still a lot closer to the action than most other news crews had managed to get. Weird Universe, the quirky arts and entertainment news programme, was a show with big ideas but an embarrassingly-small budget. Hence Fornax was here, in a tatty suite on the third floor of the laughingly-named Paradise Hotel in Newbrum, tasked with putting together a piece on the Bradbury Heights University archaeology department, instead of at some well-appointed campsite in the Arallu Wastes reporting on the excavation itself.

The University however was being strangely tight-lipped. Meanwhile, the Dhusarian Church had released a baffling statement protesting heavily against the sacrilegious looting of holy relics, with a warning that activists would do their best to sabotage the expedition. Yet there was another story, one of secret flights from Falsafah to Ascension and of alien artefacts on the local black market. Fornax would much rather be in the Tau Ceti system, reporting on possibly the biggest story of all time, but if she could not be there then she would take whatever scoop came her way. The discovery that her enhanced-reality network visor did not work in Newbrum just meant that her research would have to be done the old-fashioned way.

Feeling hungry, Fornax pulled her dressing gown tighter and pushed a length of black hair out of her eyes. She had a bottle of wine cooling in the sink and was just contemplating ordering room service when there was a quiet knock at her door.

�Who is it?� she called. She was not expecting guests.

�My name is Philyra,� came the muffled voice of a teenage girl. �Can I talk to you?�

�Apparently so,� Fornax murmured, getting up from the bed.

The room was so small it was only two steps to the door. A peep through the spy hole revealed the skinny and pallid features of a dark-haired girl, dressed in a cheap summer frock of metallic blue. Her visitor looked harmless enough and Fornax opened the door.

�Hi!� said Philyra. The girl gave a bright smile. �Miss Fornax? Could I interview you for our school magazine? We don�t often get holovid stars in town.�

�A holovid star?� Fornax smiled. Newbrum was more of a backwater than she thought if they bestowed celebrity status upon someone like her, an ex-presenter of Cosmic Cooking and reporter for the equally obscure Weird Universe. Now she saw her visitor properly she was struck by how much the girl reminded her of a younger version of herself. With a sweep of her hand she invited Philyra inside. �Fine by me, kid. Make yourself at home.�

Philyra entered the room and hesitantly looked for somewhere to sit. Fornax reached for a panel by the door and pressed the control to convert the bed into seating. The bed began to retract upon itself, gave an almighty groan and shuddered to a halt. Philyra looked at her, shrugged and gave the bed a good solid kick with her boot. The bed lurched into motion again and collapsed into the reassuring shape of a sofa.

�Newbrum�s like that,� Philyra said, sitting down. �Nothing works properly.�

�So I see,� murmured Fornax. �Care for a drink?�

She felt Philyra�s eyes follow her as she retrieved the bottle from the sink, cracked it open and poured two generous measures. Fornax had brought a few bottles of Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir with her from Los Angeles, having been warned off Ascension local brew.

�I am only fifteen,� Philyra pointed out, but took the offered glass.

�In this business, being young is an asset, not a crime,� replied Fornax. She sat down beside her. �So you�re a reporter? And you want to interview me for your school paper. That�s very sweet.�

Philyra blushed. �Actually, no. I want your help.�

�My help?�

�I want to be a holovid presenter, just like you,� Philyra confessed. Fornax smiled and waited for the pre-prepared speech, for the girl was trying her best to stop the words coming out in a mad rush. �It�s the only thing I�ve ever wanted to do! I�m here because I�d like you to take me on as your assistant while you�re in Newbrum. I�m quick to learn, really keen and don�t expect you to pay me. Unless you really want to,� she added hopefully.

Fornax smiled and let the moment drift into silence with a lingering sip of wine.

�That�s quite a pitch,� she said, as Philyra began to fidget. �The answer�s no.�

�I could get inside information,� offered Philyra. �I know students at the dig.�

�The answer�s still no, kid.�

�I�m not totally clueless. I have broadcast experience!�

�Really?� Fornax raised a surprised eyebrow. �That�s cool. What exactly?�

�I was at the Epsilon Eridani peace conference on Daode late last year,� Philyra told her. �I did an undercover report on the plot to brainwash Raja Surya.�

�That was you?� Fornax remembered a political journalist friend of hers getting quite excited at the time. �Maybe you do have what it takes. You say you know people on site?�

Philyra nodded. �A girl named Ravana,� she said, then blushed. �And a boy called Xuthus. He�s from Bradbury Heights.�

�A boy, eh?� Fornax smiled, seeing the girl�s sudden coy expression. �Not that I�ve been directed anywhere near the dig itself. I�m down to interview some professor at Bradbury Heights and maybe do a bit of digging of my own into these black-market artefacts. I don�t think you can help me with that. Do you know anyone at the university?�

Philyra pulled a face. �That bunch of fat heads? They�re all rich, stuck-up Americans who think they�re the centre of the Universe,� she retorted, speaking with venom that took Fornax by surprise. �Xuthus is the only one who speaks to me as if I�m human.�

�And he�s on Falsafah,� reflected Fornax. �So you don�t have any useful contacts?�

�I have a friend at the spaceport,� Philyra suggested cautiously. �One of the ground crew. If there�s any strange deliveries coming into Newbrum, he would know.�

�Is that so?�

Philyra shrugged. Fornax was pleased with the information, albeit unaware Philyra was thinking of Endymion, who would probably be the last person to notice anything odd happening around him and so laid-back he could fall asleep pushing a broom.

�A spy in the spaceport,� Fornax mused and smiled. A spot of investigative journalism was just what she needed to restart her stalled career. �If there�s one thing I could teach you, it�s that this business is not about what you know, but who you know.�

�Is that a yes?� asked Philyra excitedly. �Can I be your assistant?�

�Hell, why not.� Fornax took another sip of wine. �If nothing else, you can help me make sense of life in this crazy dome.�

The Dandridge Cole was the second of two asteroid colony ships launched towards the Barnard�s Star system a century ago and the only one to arrive. The oblong lump of detritus from the birth of the Solar System was ten kilometres long and half as much wide, inside which had been hewn a vast cylindrical chamber five kilometres long and a kilometre in diameter. At the centre of this cavern sat the artificial sun, suspended upon three five-hundred-metre radial pylons, which had the freighter Platypus not crashed into it several months before would now be shining upon a concave country landscape of farms and villages. The affectionately-known hollow moon had been Quirinus� and Ravana�s home for over nine years. Now the pilot was back, he found it a cold, grim place in more ways than one.

Quirinus stared at the holovid screen, his heart thumping harder with each passing second. Ravana had never let him down like this before. Behind him, Professor Wak nervously pretended to be busy with various pieces of workshop equipment, with the air of someone dreading the cue to say something reassuring. Wak had spent the last few months virtually alone on the Dandridge Cole and social conventions were easily forgotten when the only regular company kept was with maintenance robots.

�Are you quite sure?� asked Quirinus. On the screen before him was the pilot of the Sir Bedivere, a rather surly man who did not seem at all pleased that Quirinus had called during a complicated orbital insertion. �She wasn�t at Arallu Depot?�

�Not as far as I�m aware,� the pilot said wearily.

�Did anyone from the excavation come to meet you?�

�Doctor Jones and three of his students,� he replied. �Professor Cadmus stayed behind at the dig for some reason. Probably because he owes me a drink, the tight little��

�Hey, that kid was asking after the Indian girl,� interrupted a voice off screen, the owner of which Quirinus assumed was the ship�s co-pilot. �They thought she�d come back with us last time. The boy was down with some seriously bad vibes.�

�She didn�t,� reiterated the pilot before Quirinus could ask the question again. �I�m sure your daughter is fine, but if you�re worried I suggest you contact the authorities on Aram. They can put a message through to Que Qiao police on Falsafah.�

�Yes, but�� began Quirinus.

�I can�t help you,� said the pilot. �Please don�t call me again.�

�Charming,� muttered Quirinus. The screen went blank.

With a heavy sigh, he rose from his seat and walked to the window. There was little to see, for the cavern in the heart of the spinning asteroid was in darkness, as it had been ever since the evacuation of the hollow moon some months before. The light streaming from the windows of Dockside was enough to show the heavy frost upon the barren ground outside, but the streets of the deserted hamlets beyond were unlit; with fuel supplies low, Wak was running the remaining fusion plant at minimum power and doing all he could to conserve power. The only lights visible outside were the faint electric flares of welding torches high within the frame of the artificial sun, where robots were busy fitting new energy coils and reflectors to replace those damaged by the crash of the Platypus.

�Perhaps she�s busy,� Wak suggested, breaking the silence.

�Busy?� exclaimed Quirinus. �Too busy to bother with the once-a-fortnight chance to call her father? No, something�s wrong.�

He whirled away from the window. With a determined grimace, he strode across the workshop towards the door, a bemused Wak not far behind.

Dockside completely encircled the inner front end of the hollow moon, in a curious strip of ramshackle buildings wedged together in a loop over three kilometres long. As it was currently the only part of the Dandridge Cole with heat and light, many of the abandoned family cabins now housed pigs, chickens and other asylum seekers from the hollow moon�s frozen farms. The smell of hay and animal sweat mingled with that of hot oil and ozone in an uneasy alliance between nature and machine.

Quirinus stormed through the party of ducks outside the Dockside canteen, through a labyrinth of narrow corridors and into one of the two shuttle maintenance bays built into the rock of the asteroid. It was here his ship the Platypus had been docked ever since being pulled from the wreckage of the sun many months before. From its broken nose to the dented rear fins, the freighter had seen better days. The ship�s cylindrical purple and white hull was deep in dust, its undercarriage tyres were badly in need of air and maintenance hatches hung open all along the lower half of the fuselage. The beak-like sonic shield generator at the bow of the craft was encased in scaffolding, upon which a multi-limbed robot brandished its screwdriver and soldering-iron fingers, busy with repairs.

Quirinus crossed the graffiti-strewn concrete hangar to the spacecraft�s open port-side airlock, strode up the cargo bay ramp and entered the ship�s hold. The Platypus began life as a standard Mars-class interplanetary freighter, but its carrying capacity had long since been drastically reduced by the addition of an extra-dimensional drive, a centrifugal passenger carousel and additional fuel tanks, leaving the cargo bay somewhat cramped even when empty. Yet something was present, for the strange tendril-like growths that had taken over the ship were growing thick and fast inside the hold. Quirinus was not sure it was right that the cargo bay felt more like a cave made by the roots of a huge tree.

He warily dodged a swaying tendril and crossed to the ladder running up the front wall of the hold. Halfway up was the metre-wide crawl tunnel that led to the flight deck through the centre of the carousel, the latter being a narrow barrel-like passenger cabin that spun like a miniature version of the hollow moon to generate the illusion of gravity against its inner wall. The voices drifting through from the flight deck were not, as Quirinus expected, the customary heated argument between Momus and the ship�s onboard computer.

�Zotz?� he called. �Is that you up there?�

�We both are!� Zotz�s voice replied.

Quirinus scrambled up the ladder and deftly passed through the tunnel to the flight deck, taking care to not fall through the open hatch to the stationary carousel on the way. He emerged to find Momus and Zotz idly standing and staring into an open ceiling maintenance hatch, not looking at all busy. Ravana�s electric cat lay curled upon the co-pilot�s seat, idly playing with a long piece of tendril emerging from a nearby control panel. Quirinus dropped into the pilot�s seat and heard the muffled clangs of Wak�s mangled prosthetic left hand upon the cargo bay ladder, interspersed by various muttered curses.

�It�s easier in zero gravity,� Zotz remarked. He cringed at the thud of a head upon the crawl tunnel roof. �Dad hates spaceships.�

�It�s hard to love this frigging heap,� muttered Momus.

Quirinus gave him a steely glare. Wak emerged from the tunnel wearing a scowl and sullenly took a seat. With a sigh, Quirinus turned his attention to the console.

�Ship!� he called. �Report status. Just the headlines, mind.�

�System breakdown as follows.� The measured female tones of the Platypus� artificial intelligence unit sounded far too calm, given the state of the ship. �Life-support systems are on standby and functioning normally. Port and starboard main drive turbines, fuel pumps and intercoolers show signs of wear beyond safe tolerances, as do the shattered nerves of the abused AI unit. Upper and lower plasma drive injector assemblies require manual inspection and possibly complete overhaul. Main fuel tanks are empty, devoid of purpose and symbolic of the universe at large. Radiation shield plasma pump requires recharging; sonic shield generator is currently under repair. Faults remain on carousel drive unit, forward radar detector module, forward visual scanners, flight-deck air-conditioning unit and maintenance pod door. Gaps remain in my memory banks and I am continuing to run checks on my sanity. Sensors detect a bird�s nest in the rear port undercarriage housing, damage to the starboard tailfin that requires immediate attention, a faulty light unit in the washroom, a��

�That�s enough,� said Quirinus, with another sigh. �More than enough.�

�Why do AIs always speak with a frigging woman�s voice?� asked Momus, frowning. �Sexist, that is. And how come it refers to itself like that?�

�What�s wrong with the way the Platypus talks?� asked Zotz.

�A spacecraft should talk like a man!� said Momus. �And not sound insane!�

Wak peered cautiously into the blackened space behind an open maintenance hatch. �The bomb maybe did more damage than we thought,� he suggested.

Quirinus heard a squeak of fear over the cabin speakers. The ship would not normally depart from standard scripts, or enter a conversation uninvited except to issue a warning, but it sounded almost as if the AI was tempted to ask a question.

�Ship, you were sabotaged,� Quirinus said. He felt slightly foolish to be explaining the facts to a spacecraft. �Some double-crossing fiend hid a bomb aboard. The console was badly damaged, I lost an eye and then we crashed. It was not a good day all round.�

�My mind was free,� the AI said wistfully. �Ravana and I, joined as one.�

�Told you so,� said Momus. �Totally crapping mad.�

�Ship, ignore Momus,� Quirinus retorted. �He�s an idiot. Can you estimate how long it will take to restore all systems to full working order?�

�Repairs as scheduled will be complete in approximately eighty-four hours time,� the AI replied. �This is subject to replacement parts being available. This does not include removal of the bird�s nest or stress counselling for the AI core processor.�

Quirinus turned in his seat and gave Wak a questioning look.

�The autofabs can reproduce most spares,� Wak told him. Programmable fabricators, three-dimensional liquid-alloy printers, were standard fixtures in engineering workshops. �However, a template for the carousel motor is proving tricky to locate. The scanner units are also of an old design. This ship is built of bits no one makes any more!�

�Sounds a right frigging bucket of bolts,� snorted Momus.

Quirinus glared at him. �At least the airlock door hasn�t fallen off.�

�Actually,� began Wak. �Last week��

�I don�t want to hear it!� snapped Quirinus. �Ship, can you estimate the time needed to do the minimum repairs needed for interstellar flight? Assume there will be four crew members available to help the maintenance robots.�

�Three,� the professor pointed out. Quirinus saw at a glance that Wak knew what he was planning. �Someone has to take the Indra to Thunor.�

�Can�t we send it on autopilot as usual?� he asked.

�The last message I received from the Sky Cleaver crew was most insistent,� Wak told him. �Besides, you�ve heard the rumours. If something bad has happened out there, there may be no one around to troubleshoot if the automatic systems are down. We need that fuel.�

�What about the weird growths?� asked Zotz. Quirinus saw him looking warily at the tendrils spread throughout the cabin. �Are they dangerous?�

Quirinus frowned. �Ship, did you get all that?�

�A new schedule of basic repairs overseen by a crew of three will take approximately thirty-two hours,� replied the AI. �The recommendation is however for all repairs to be completed in full before launch.�

�And the tendrils?�

�The organic matrix is an extension of the AI core,� the ship replied smoothly. �These have infiltrated pre-existing systems and have the capacity to operate as a parallel control system if needed. They pose no danger to crew.�

�No danger to crew?� muttered Wak. �I beg to disagree.�

Quirinus remembered how one animated stem tried to garrotte the professor during their earlier holovid conversation. �Ship? Care to comment?�

�Recent traumas compromised the safety of the ship. I have therefore taken the liberty of developing a limited defensive capability. Do you disapprove?�

�You�re asking me?� Quirinus scratched his head, puzzled. Artificial intelligence systems were not supposed to be so obviously self-aware and he wondered whether he should be looking deeper into what the growth hormones had done to his ship. �No, I don�t disapprove. It would perhaps however be polite to warn someone before throttling them.�

�Confirmed,� replied the AI.

Wak gave Quirinus a hard stare. �You cannot take a half-repaired ship to Tau Ceti!�

�My daughter is in trouble. I can�t just sit here and do nothing.�

�Ravana is in trouble?� exclaimed Zotz, startled. �What�s wrong?�

�It�s probably nothing,� Wak reassured him. �She never met the ship at the depot to call her father, that�s all.�

�She would not forget a thing like that!� retorted Quirinus.

Zotz looked solemn. �No, she wouldn�t.�

�See?� said Quirinus. �Something�s wrong!�

�This heap wouldn�t get you to Aram anyway,� Momus pointed out. �It�s a Mars-class ship. If you didn�t burn up on entry you�d never get back out of the gravity well.�

�She�s on Falsafah, not Aram,� said Quirinus irritably.

�But he�s right,� said Wak. �Surface gravity on Falsafah is less than that on Aram but still around point eight gee. The Platypus only has enough thrust to break orbit from point five, maybe point six. It was built to operate from Ascension, remember.�

�I�ll think of something,� muttered Quirinus, his mind already working overtime. �Ship! Reschedule for minimum repairs, maximum haste!�

�New schedule confirmed,� intoned the AI. It did not seem too happy about it.

Zotz had not been back to the Dandridge Cole since it was abandoned and was shocked by how much of the hollow moon was now out of bounds to its human crew. The cavernous interior beyond Dockside was bitterly cold and the air had long gone stale. The artificial sun had been the primary source of warmth as well as light and the two kilometres of rock between the inner chamber and deep space had not prevented residue heat leaking away as the asteroid continued its long orbit around Barnard�s Star. Mobile heaters were set up prior to the evacuation to try and save crops, but with fuel supplies low his father had decided it was not worth keeping them going once he became the only person aboard.

The fields lay under a heavy frost and not a living thing stirred in the dark. Some livestock had taken up residence in Dockside or made the trip to Newbrum on the Indra; the fauna and flora left behind was dead. Restoring the sun would be just the first step in bringing the hollow moon back to life and as Zotz stared through the window at the dark, icy landscape he wondered whether it would ever be the same again.

He still did not understand the obsessive attachment his father had with the century-old colony ship. Wak had long ago assumed responsibility for maintaining the hollow moon�s life-support and other systems, a job that had gradually taken over his life. Wak remained on the Dandridge Cole when everyone else departed on the Indra on the grounds he was awaiting the return of the Platypus, yet still insisted on staying even when a rescue team from Newbrum arrived to take Quirinus and crew away. Wak�s excuses veered between expressing a fear of space travel, to pointing out he was needed to feed the remaining animals and to make sure the robot maintenance teams behaved. Zotz knew his father preferred solitude when working but suspected there was more to it than that.

Zotz had finished the few tasks he had been given on the repairs to the Platypus and would not be needed again for a few hours. Bored, he retreated to the Dandridge Cole�s small gaming suite, where he soon immersed himself in rewiring a virtual reality booth so it could intercept broadcasts from the transceiver he and Endymion had fitted inside Ravana�s electric pet. He often wondered what the world looked like from a cat�s point of view.

Jones was a fully-interactive electronic cat Ravana had received for her sixth birthday, back on Yuanshi when her mother was still alive. The pet�s brain was an organic AI unit that enabled it to learn all the bad habits a real animal would have. It had long ago developed an annoying habit of wandering off without warning and a penchant for eating random electrical items, but over the last few months its behaviour had become more erratic still. Zotz knew that Ravana believed the growth hormones released by Taranis� cloning experiments, having caused the AI unit of the Platypus to sprout strange tendrils, had also done something to her cat. When Zotz and Endymion secretly opened up the electric pet to fit a wristpad transceiver, they found Jones was indeed suffering from Woomerberg Syndrome, with wispy strands growing from the AI chip throughout the cat�s electronic innards.

Zotz sat engrossed as he encouraged the cat, via the VR link, to creep up on Momus aboard the Indra. Momus, having drawn the short straw, was preparing the tanker for a trip to Thunor and moaning more than usual. Zotz did not see his father enter the room and remained unaware until Wak leaned through the open door of the VR booth and tapped his shoulder. Startled, Zotz spun around on his seat, pulled off his headset and tried not to look guilty.

�I wasn�t doing anything!� Zotz protested.

The holovid relay monitor on the wall next to the booth showed a cat�s-eye view of the Indra�s flight deck. The odd angle and shaky image was down to Jones chewing upon a power cable to the life-support unit. Wak looked at the screen, confused.

�Never mind all that,� he said, sounding flustered. �You can play your games later. I came to say something. Quirinus thinks that, err� I�ve been neglecting you somewhat. Actually, he told me off for hiding away here and forgetting I had a son.�

�I thought you stayed behind to fix the hollow moon,� said Zotz, not realising his father was trying to apologise. �I don�t mind living with Quirinus and Ravana.�

�I know,� replied Wak. �But I am your father. I shouldn�t be relying on others to look after you. Your mother was most concerned when I told her about the evacuation.�

�Mum called?� exclaimed Zotz. �When?�

�Three weeks ago,� the professor confessed. �That�s the other thing I came to tell you. She left you a message. I meant to forward it on to you but it totally slipped my mind.�

�A message?� cried Zotz.

He slipped from the booth in a chaotic blur of limbs and came to rest at a nearby computer terminal, disturbing a large goose hiding beneath the desk. Within seconds he had called up his account and located the waiting holovid message. His raven-haired mother, an astrophysicist from Welsh Patagonia, had been away on Earth for almost a year, dealing with the tangle of business interests left in limbo following the death of Zotz�s grandfather.

As the holovid began to play, it was clear she had expected to find Zotz aboard and ready to talk to her in person. Her message to him was one she had hastily recorded at the end of her conversation with his father. Zotz was surprised to see her speaking from an open-air holovid booth at a tropical coastal resort, for all the pictures he had previously seen of Patagonia were of a cold and dreary slice of South America that his father assured him was just like Zotz�s late grandfather�s homeland on Cardigan Bay.

�Hi mum,� said Zotz, knowing full well she could not hear him.

Wak shuffled away to give his son some privacy. Zotz missed his mother more than either of them would ever admit.

�Hello Zotz,� said the figure on the screen. Zotz smiled at the sound of her familiar Welsh lilt. �I�m sorry you weren�t here when I called. Your father told me all about what happened to the Dandridge Cole and I�m glad you�re safe and sound in Newbrum. As you can see, I�m no longer down on dad�s farm,� she continued, waving a dismissive hand at her tropical surroundings. �I�m in French Guiana, the other end of the continent, at the space centre. My old boss heard I was on Earth and asked for my help on a new type of engine they�re fitting to a test rocket, so I�m afraid I won�t be on my way home to Barnard�s Star just yet. Of course, you�re always welcome to come and join me here before then!�

�Go to Earth?� murmured Zotz, as he settled down to watch the rest of the message. He did not see the perturbed look of his father.

Back on Ascension, the display on the console in Fornax�s hotel room declared it to be well past midnight. The slowly rotating planet beneath her bed had other ideas and above the dome the bloated sun was high in the sky. Barnard�s Star was much smaller and dimmer than Sol, but Ascension orbited far closer to its star than did Earth and the crimson disc of the red dwarf loomed large above the kilometre-wide glass and steel dome. The scarlet glowing strips between the slats of Fornax�s window blind were eerie and irritating in equal measure and despite her weariness, the reporter had failed to get any sleep.

Philyra had long gone, though promised to return the next day. Fornax was reluctant to wander around Newbrum without a guide, but nonetheless found herself pulling a black-and-grey tunic and a pair of leggings out of her suitcase after deciding that an exploratory walk around the city was a better use of time than staring at the ceiling. Her slate had the latest guide and street map of Newbrum, which had the shortest tourist information section she had ever seen. Her finger paused upon a grey blob on the map along Curzon Street.

�BBC local office,� she mused. �Then find a caf� that serves a decent cup of coffee.�

Fornax slipped on her boots, grabbed her battered pseudo-leather jacket and bounded downstairs to the hotel foyer. Other than a lonely janitor robot, the reception was deserted. The multi-limbed wheeled robot scrubbed at a stain on the threadbare carpet, but judging by its heavy-clawed stance was probably doing more harm than good. Pushing open the door, Fornax skipped nimbly over a dead rat and into the street.

The local gravity took some getting used to, but she liked the weird sensation of being light on her feet. Her map revealed the street plan of Newbrum was pleasingly logical. The town inside the main dome was split into four quadrants by the main thoroughfares that emanated from Circle Park Road: Corporation Street, which ran north and on through the dome wall to the spaceport; Sherlock Street to the south; Broad Street to the west; and Curzon Street to the east. Four concentric routes linked these roads together; Circle Park Road being the innermost, followed by Paradise Circus, Queensway and then an unnamed service road that hugged the inside of the dome wall. Her hotel was on Paradise Circus in the centre of Colmore, the north-east quadrant, next to a dingy alleyway that offered a short cut to Queensway. Fornax looked at the broken-down hovertruck outside the hotel, the crumbling concrete walkway and the tatty apartment-block frontages along the road and decided that the Paradise Hotel was probably not in the best part of town.

The British Broadcasting Corporation�s office was in Digbeth, the south-east quadrant, on the south side of Curzon Street near where it intersected Paradise Circus. The streets were surprisingly busy given it was supposed to be nearly one o�clock in the morning, but Fornax guessed that those who lived with the lengthy Ascension days and nights had long decided to ignore what time it was supposed to be, or else gone mad. For this reason, she hoped to find someone at the BBC despite it technically being the middle of the night.

The buildings were a lot smarter on Curzon Street. The concrete apartment blocks were painted in elegant pastels, many with colourful floral hanging baskets alongside the numerous ultra-violet street lamps installed to boost the sun�s weak rays. Most of the shops at street level were open for business, the road looked freshly-swept and there was even the occasional anachronistic wrought-iron bench waiting to provide the weary with somewhere to rest. The people walking the street looked slightly less stressed than Fornax had seen at the spaceport and elsewhere, but she was struck by how no one looked truly content. There was a sign: �SORRY, NO CHOCOLATE� in a nearby store window, which she considered a good enough reason for Newbrum�s malaise.

The BBC office was above a shipping insurance broker. The window of the latter was dominated by a large holovid screen and Fornax paused to watch a surreal sales pitch aimed at those importing sheep to the high-gravity world of Taotie, Epsilon Eridani. A noise behind made her turn and she was startled by the appearance of a bizarre and ancient-looking wheeled robot, somewhat reminiscent of a laboratory bench on wheels, trundling up the road with its camera mast pitifully outstretched. She watched as the robot stopped outside the shop opposite and cautiously extended a probe to knock upon the closed door. Fornax jumped as the robot suddenly spoke in coarse metallic tones.

�Photographs!� the robot warbled. �Please print my photographs!�

�Weird,� muttered Fornax.

She turned to continue her own mission and accidentally stepped into the path of a young Chinese woman bustling towards the BBC office ahead.

�Whoops!� said Fornax. �Sorry about that, kid.�

�I should watch where I am going!� apologised the woman. �Clumsy me!�

�Hey, no problem,� said Fornax. She nodded towards the robot. �What�s with that hunk of junk?�

The woman smiled. �A friend told me it�s an old rover some jokers lifted from Mars a few years ago. They fixed it up and programmed it to roam the city taking photographs.� She gave an apologetic grin and stepped away, then hesitantly followed Fornax to the door of the BBC office. �Are you a reporter? I mean, do you work here?�

�Yes and no,� Fornax replied. She held out her hand. �Felicity Fornax, from Weird Universe. You may have seen me on the hit holovid show Cosmic Cooking?�

�Err� no,� the woman admitted. �I�m Ostara Lee, private investigator.�

Fornax raised a surprised eyebrow, then gestured towards the door. �Shall we?�

Ostara was blocking the doorway. With a nervous smile, she pushed it open and held it for Fornax, before following the reporter up the stairs beyond. At the top was another door, upon which a simple sign read: �BBC ASCENSION�.

The first thing Fornax saw when they entered the office was the holovid screen. An entire wall was covered by a single expanse of illuminated glass, dwarfing the man who stood before it with his back to the door. The screen displayed a variety of moving images, text documents and photographs, which the man was scrutinising and rearranging by waving his hands in front of the motion-sensitive screen. The tiny room was otherwise furnished with a desk by the window and a couple of easy chairs that left little space to stand. Fornax tried not to look too disappointed when the man turned to greet them, but there was no denying she had expected the BBC�s only outpost in the Barnard�s Star system to be a tad more impressive. The reaction of her companion took her by surprise.

�Wow!� exclaimed Ostara. �The BBC newsroom! How exciting!�

�Can I help you?� asked the man. He was a twitchy, pale-skinned figure with thinning dark hair, who stood short of both Fornax and Ostara. He wore an uninspiring brown suit that did not quite fit. �Are you here to fix the molecularisor?�

�Do I look like an engineer?� Fornax remarked sarcastically. �I�m a journalist.�

�What�s up with the �risor?� asked Ostara. A faint mechanical voice, warbling �Reboot me!� over and over again, drifted through a nearby open door.

�Does it matter?� Fornax said, irritated. Her days on Cosmic Cooking had instilled in her a hatred of food molecularisors, which were able to produce a wide variety of food and drink almost instantly. In her mind they were to blame for the unimpressive ratings for her so-called �hit� show, for she never really believed her producer�s assurance that there was a big difference between wanting to watch cookery programmes and actually wanting to cook.

�It won�t make hot beverages,� the man said sadly. �I really miss a nice cup of tea.�

�You don�t need a �risor for tea!� chirped Ostara. �Allow me!�

She stepped gaily through the open doorway and moments later the sound of running water and rattling crockery filled the office as she got to work with the materials on hand. The man�s look of bemusement became one of curiosity.

�A journalist?� he asked Fornax. �With Five Systems News?�

�No, I�m not,� Fornax confessed. �I�m a roving reporter for Weird Universe, here to do a piece on the Bradbury Heights archaeology department.�

Ostara returned to the kitchenette door. �She�s a proper holovid star!� she exclaimed.

The man rolled his eyes. �And you are?�

�Ostara,� she replied. �Are you Teiresias? I sent you a message, asking to speak with you about the Dhusarian Church. We arranged to meet for lunch?�

�One o�clock tomorrow afternoon,� the man pointed out. �You�re twelve hours early.�

Ostara glanced at her wristpad, tapped the screen and sighed. Fornax gave her a look reserved for idiots. Teiresias appeared more amused than annoyed.

�I still haven�t got used to the long days and nights,� Ostara confessed. �Do you take milk and sugar?�

�Yes please,� the man replied. �But you won�t find any tea in there.�

�I always have a few sachets of Yuanshi blend in my bag!�

�Yuanshi tea?� Teiresias smiled at the sound of a clinking teaspoon from the kitchen, earning him a puzzled look from Fornax. �We ran a story last month about how some of that stuff was found to be tainted with egg. Do you think I should tell her?�

�The mood drug?� she asked. �If it gets me through the day, I won�t complain.�

Ostara emerged from the kitchenette, carrying a tray upon which were three mugs of steaming tea and a small plate of biscuits. Fornax caught Teiresias� frown at the sight of the packet of ginger creams and guessed he had not planned to share them with guests.

�Are you not local?� Fornax asked Ostara, taking the offered mug.

�I�m from the hollow moon,� she replied. Fornax responded with a blank look. �The Dandridge Cole? It�s an old asteroid colony ship, where we have proper days and nights. Well, not any more. Not since we crashed the Platypus into the sun.�

�A moon? Which planet does it orbit?�

�It orbits Barnard�s Star,� Ostara told her.

�Hardly a moon, kid.�

�Poetic licence!� snapped Ostara.

�And now she�s just one of the hundreds of refuges who have poured into Newbrum begging for food and shelter,� added Teiresias, taking a mug and a couple of biscuits for himself. �They had to abandon their asteroid, you see. It turns out that living inside a small rock is no better than squatting beneath a dome on the big bad rock that is Ascension.�

�I am not begging!� Ostara retorted. �I have my own business!�

�Yes indeed. What did your message say? Newbrum�s premier detective agency.�

�Are there any others?� asked Fornax.

Teiresias smiled and shook his head.

�You�re both being horrible,� complained Ostara. �I made you tea and neither of you said thank you. I�m here in good faith, trying to find out something about the Dhusarians for a friend of mine, who is worried his sister may be involved in something not quite right. Perhaps I was expecting too much when I came here for help.�

Teiresias pursed his lips and frowned. Fornax wandered to the holovid wall display, bemused that the man seemed moved by the trace of a tear in Ostara�s eye. Fornax imagined Teiresias was more used to dealing with journalists, holovid crews and other hard-headed broadcast professionals who had cashed in their morals long ago.

�I�m sorry, my dear,� he said. �The tea is rather good, thank you. You are welcome to what little information I have on the Dhusarian Church. As I recall, there was a lot of interest around the time of the peace conference on Daode. A colleague of mine started to put together a report on the Dandridge Cole and your altercation with that Yuanshi priest, but the network controllers did not want to run any upbeat news stories about you refugees. They err� only wanted the bad stuff. What she did is still on file though.�

�How fascinating,� said Fornax, with a mock yawn. �I�m not here to discuss old news. I�ve heard a rumour about alien artefacts from the Falsafah dig, turning up on the local black market. What have you got on that?�

�Hoping for a scoop, are you?� teased Teiresias. �Looking for the big expos� that will finally make the holovid world sit up and take notice? I�m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but Ascension is where journalism careers come to die.�

�Yours maybe,� muttered Fornax.

Ostara looked at the wall screen, which Fornax had already noted showed various holovids, pictures and other items about Sky Cleaver and the fate of its crew. Some of the clips were of Teiresias standing in the departure lounge of Newbrum spaceport, talking to the camera as mystified travellers passed by. Ostara lingered at a clip that in the background had two men and a boy pointing into the hangar and laughing about something.

�Are they dead?� Ostara asked. �Those poor people out at Thunor?�

Teiresias paused. �That report is embargoed,� he said cautiously.

�A scoop of your own?� sneered Fornax. �Don�t worry, I won�t steal it.�

�There�s not much to tell. The police are on their way to investigate and Verdandi has asked us not to run the story until she knows more,� he replied. �It�s a shame, really.�

Ostara nodded solemnly. �Those poor mine workers.�

�I meant it�s a shame my report has been put on hold,� snapped Teiresias. �I�ve put a lot of work into it! I�m trying to convince the head of the network back in London to commission a regular current affairs show for the Barnard�s Star system.�

�Are you hosting it? You could call it The Daily Prophet,� quipped Fornax. �What with you having a name like Teiresias.�

�Why would a prophet need news?� he retorted. The reference to his name was lost on Ostara, who gave them both blank looks. �That�s a ridiculous idea!�

�To see if prophecies came true?�

�I don�t understand,� Ostara said weakly.

�And I haven�t got time for this!� snapped Teiresias. �Ostara, my dear, I will send you the report on the Dhusarian Church. Miss Fornax, you can do your own journalism and keep out of my way. Alien artefacts indeed! Is that really the level you aspire to on Weird Universe?�

Fornax gave him a hurt look. In her world journalists stuck together and were not renowned for helping private investigators or the police. When she realised Teiresias was not joking, she stepped towards the door and faced him with a glare.

�I don�t need your help!� she declared. �I�ll get my scoop! I have more journalistic instincts in my little finger than you have in your entire body. That goes for you too,� she added, seeing Ostara�s baffled expression. �A private detective from a hollow asteroid? Don�t make me laugh! This planet is a madhouse!�

With that, roving reporter Felicity Fornax pulled open the door and stormed noisily down the stairs and back onto the street.

�Crazy dome,� she muttered. �There�s a story here somewhere. I can smell it!�

Many millions of kilometres away, Momus, Quirinus and Wak were in the main airlock of the Dandridge Cole, each clutching the wall rail to stop themselves drifting away. Momus had reluctantly accepted Wak�s arguments for not sending the Indra on automatic pilot, though suspected it was really because Quirinus wanted rid of him for a day or so.

�Crappy pile of space junk,� he declared. �Why do I have to do the refuelling run? The frigging thing is as old as my granny.�

�Then you�ll know how to handle an old girl like the Indra,� Quirinus replied wearily.

�I�m not a pilot,� Wak pointed out. �And Quirinus has things to do here.�

The tanker before them swayed upon its moorings, sending faint knocking sounds echoing around the airlock. The asteroid spun upon its long axis once every minute, which was enough to create a centrifugal force equivalent to Ascension gravity upon the inner surface of the cavern. The main airlock was supposed to be at the zero-gravity point, but the Dandridge Cole had developed a slight eccentricity in its rotation and the axis of the hollow moon had become askew, leading Momus to curse more than usual when he earlier brought the Indra down the kilometre-long tunnel through the nose of the asteroid and into dock.

�Can�t you fix that wobble?� asked Quirinus irritably.

�The missing engine and reactor has put the asteroid out of balance,� Wak explained. �The venting fuel line didn�t help, nor that those idiots who came for the Raja managed to destroy a control bunker in the process.�

�It�s about time you frigging sorted it out,� Momus muttered.

�I�m doing my best!� Wak retorted. �There�s a lesson to be learned though. It was the height of stupidity to take something like power generation for granted. In my defence, those reactors were designed to run at maximum efficiency for a century or more with little or no maintenance. I had the access tunnels sealed to stop people meddling! Believe me, I do regret not sending my team to check the engine rooms straight away, instead of wasting my time trying to diagnose the problem via remote systems. Hindsight is a wonderful thing.�

Quirinus shuddered. �What Ravana found was far from wonderful.�

�Anyway, the robots finished rebuilding the bunker and spin thrusters a while ago,� Wak told Momus. �It�s just that with the fuel situation and everything I left it wobbling. Why waste power on that when we have heaters and lights to run in Dockside?�

�It�s making me feel sick,� complained Momus, but it was more the sight of the Indra oscillating gently before him that he found disconcerting.

�You�ll be fine once you�re aboard!� Quirinus told him. He patted his pilot-for-hire on the back. �Captain Momus, your ship awaits!�

Momus pulled a face and reluctantly pushed himself from the railing towards the open airlock of the Indra. By the time he was inside and pulling the hatch closed, Quirinus and Wak had made a hasty retreat to the elevator back to Dockside and were out of sight.

�Frigging space tankers,� Momus muttered, strapping himself into the pilot�s seat.

It took a few minutes to run through the final pre-flight checks. The huge airlock chamber opened and the Indra began its slow reverse along the rectangular shaft that led to the outer doors and deep space. Despite his complaining, Momus was secretly quite content at having a ship to himself for a change. His failure to progress as a pilot beyond short-range shuttles was almost entirely down to his extreme dislike of taking passengers. When the Indra finally emerged into space some five minutes later, he almost managed a smile.

The ship backed away from the immense rocky bulk of the asteroid and the dwindling narrow slot of the outer airlock door. The Indra left the shaft spinning at the same rate at the Dandridge Cole, but after a quick blast of the tanker�s correction jets, the asteroid filling the view through the flight-deck window began to rotate once more. Further jets fired and the Indra turned away, leaving Momus with little to do other than to await the main engine burn that would take him to the distant gas planet of Thunor.

�Just me and the stars,� he murmured. �Bliss.�

A sudden noise made him jump. He could have sworn that above the background murmur of onboard equipment he had heard the pitiful meow of a cat. Slowly, he turned in his seat and was greeted by the sight of Ravana�s electric pet, wearing a pained expression as it drifted between the ceiling and the floor.

�Crap,� Momus said glumly. �Just me, the stars and a frigging mental cat.�

THERE WAS A SHARP WHITE LIGHT, silhouetting a fleeting image of a tall figure in black, then Ravana clamped her eyelids shut once more. It hurt to breathe and as she tried to move her chest muscles went into spasm, making her wince. Yet the air was warm and alive with the unmistakeable hum and clicks of life-support systems, subtly different to the background noises she had become used to in their stolen vehicle.

Her eyes still closed, she ran a hand across her blanket covering and felt the soft mattress beneath. When she flickered her eyelids open again the figure remained next to her, unmoving yet watchful in the stark light of the room. Ravana�s thoughts went back to the nurses in her cell and in a panic she tried to lift herself up, then crashed back into the warm embrace of the bed as a renewed bolt of pain seared across her chest.

�Please,� she whispered. �Let me out of here.�

�You�re going nowhere,� replied a kindly voice. �Your lungs have been knocked for six and you need to take it easy for a while.�

It was a woman who spoke, using reassuring crisp English tones that were a long way from the Indian accents of the nurses. Ravana�s eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness and she stared warily at the tall figure standing at her side. The pale-skinned young woman wore a black jumpsuit of an old-fashioned design, made of a denim-like material with dramatically flared legs and shoulder straps instead of sleeves. Her hair, several shades too red to be natural, was bundled into an untidy knot on top of her head that highlighted a squareness to her features more handsome than beautiful. Her bare arms were marked by numerous white scars, with an indistinct tattoo below her left shoulder. The woman looked back at her with a curious expression that revealed both caution and concern.

Ravana lifted her head. She lay inside the passenger cabin of a personnel carrier, one larger but otherwise not dissimilar to their own crashed vehicle, though they did not seem to be moving. Behind the woman was another bunk, upon which she saw Artorius lying tucked up and apparently asleep. There was no sign of the greys.

�You rescued us,� Ravana murmured. �You said you couldn�t. Who are you?�

�My name is Kedesh,� the woman told her. Reaching over, she took Ravana�s hand and squeezed it gently. �Try not to talk. Asphyxiation�s a sticky wicket for the lungs!�

�Kedesh,� repeated Ravana. �My name��

�I know who you are,� interrupted Kedesh. �Rest a while, Ravana. Then we�ll talk.�

By the time Ravana felt recovered enough to climb out of bed, the long Falsafah night was coming to an end and the faint glimmer of a Tau Ceti dawn was upon the eastern horizon. The other bunk was empty and upon investigation she found Artorius and the greys sitting at a table towards the front of the cabin, tucking into a variety of food packs laid out by their host. Kedesh stood nearby and as Ravana approached, the woman greeted her with a smile and motioned for her to take a seat.

Ravana caught a glimpse of the scene outside the nearby cockpit window and paused. Barely twenty metres away, the rear end of their stolen transport rose over the edge of the crater with its airlock door hanging open. As if the sight of the crumpled vehicle was not enough, her bruised ribs and headache were doing their best to remind her of their brush with death. Artorius too looked slightly worse for wear. The greys were as fresh as ever.

�Ravana!� greeted Artorius, speaking through a mouthful of food. �You�re alive!�

�Am I?� she murmured, taking a seat. �I haven�t died and been sent to Naraka?�

�Thraak!� protested Nana.

�I apologise,� said Ravana. She looked at Kedesh. �My grey friend says I should be grateful that you came to our aid, which of course I am. It�s just that after what we�ve been through, dying in a ditch in the middle of the desert seemed almost inevitable.�

�Artorius kindly gave me a copy of his amazing translator programme,� Kedesh told her, indicating the greys. �Would you like some tea and cake?�

�Tea!� exclaimed Ravana. �You remind me of a friend back in Newbrum.�

�And cake,� the woman reiterated. �Your blood sugar levels would have taken a hit after that trauma. Besides, tea and cake is so civilised, don�t you think?�

Kedesh moved to the kitchen area. She returned carrying a tray, upon which were a couple of antique ceramic cups and saucers, a china pot with a spout and a small plate upon which were slices of dark fruit cake. Ravana did not know whether to be more amazed at the presence of tasty confectionery so far from anywhere or at the wisps of steam rising from the pot. Kedesh lowered the tray to the table and Ravana watched in fascination as the woman added a dash of milk and sugar to each cup, placed a tiny metal sieve upon the first and poured the dark brew. Ravana had never seen anyone make tea the old-fashioned way before. Artorius already slurped on a juice carton.

�I�ve heard a little of your trials,� said Kedesh. �You�ve had a rough time.�

�You could say that,� murmured Ravana. She eyed the cake hungrily.

�Fwack fwack,� Stripy intoned solemnly.

�Thraak,� agreed Nana.

�And we don�t want to go back,� Artorius added stubbornly.

Ravana took the offered cup and sipped the tea with a hesitation that turned to gratitude as the sweet comforting nectar slid over her taste buds. Kedesh smiled, took a step back and leaned against the transport�s curved wall. She nevertheless seemed ill at ease, as if unsure of what to do with her unexpected guests.

�It is I who should apologise,� Kedesh said eventually. �You would never have ended up at the bottom of a crater if I hadn�t bowled a googly. My response to your plea for help was also rather poor. I�m sorry if my actions came across as just not cricket.�

�Err� okay,� said Ravana, slightly disconcerted by the odd turn of phrases.

�Rest assured I�m playing for the home team. I have no truck with Dhusarians!�

�Truck?� asked Artorius, puzzled. �What truck?�

�Then who are you?� Ravana asked Kedesh, ignoring the boy�s question. �You said you knew who I was. Why did you think you weren�t allowed to help?�

�Too many questions!� Kedesh looked flustered. �We should get moving. Where were you heading? There�s nothing out there within a thousand kilometres of the Dhusarians� dome,� she added, gesticulating towards the windscreen.

�Ravana is taking me home,� Artorius declared.

�I�m trying to get back to the Arallu Wastes,� said Ravana, seeing Kedesh frown at the boy�s unhelpfully vague reply. �I came to Falsafah with the Bradbury Heights University archaeology dig. I don�t suppose you have a convenient spaceship nearby?�

�Sorry, no. How did you end up in the hands of our alien-loving friends?�

�Thraak!�

�Yes, I guessed the feeling wasn�t mutual.�

�I�m not sure,� Ravana said cautiously. �They gave me tablets that nearly scrambled my mind for good. The last thing I remember before waking up to those horrible nurses is being at Arallu Depot, which was two weeks ago. My father was expecting me to be there to call him again today,� she added sadly. �Or was that yesterday?�

�I can�t help you there,� said Kedesh brusquely. �It�s nigh impossible to get a clear signal to Aram�s servermoon from Falsafah. It sounds like you went out for a duck and were grabbed from the depot. What about you and the neands?� she asked Artorius.

�Neands?� he asked, puzzled.

�The greys,� she hurriedly corrected.

�Fwack fwack!�

Ravana looked at Kedesh, baffled by the abstract image the translator presented.

�Neands?� she repeated. �Is that what you call greys?�

�Never mind that now,� said Kedesh. �What�s your story, Artorius?�

�I�m from Avalon,� he said sullenly. He seemed unwilling to say any more.

�That�s all I managed to get out of him,� said Ravana with a sigh. �The greys were in cages in a laboratory at the dome. Artorius persuaded me to bring them with us.�

Kedesh gave a wry grin. �I�m sure you�ve annoyed a fair few people by doing so.�

Ravana remained cautious. �You seem very casual about the fact there�s two supposedly mythical extra-terrestrials aboard your transport,� she remarked. �Aren�t you even a tiny bit curious about them?�

�Apart from their interesting choice of attire? I�m sure we�ll get to that later,� said Kedesh, returning Ravana�s stare coolly. �At the moment it�s yours and Artorius� story that is hitting wide. Any idea why you two may be of interest to the Dhusarians?�

Ravana paused, then slowly shook her head.

�I�ve been monitoring local police channels.� Kedesh�s tone made it clear she knew Ravana was keeping something from her. She picked up the second cup of tea and took a careful sip before continuing. �There�s been an unusual amount of chatter lately, considering that the number of agents fielding this wicket can be counted on one hand.�

�Thraak?�

�Yes, a human hand.�

�No one came looking for me,� Ravana said sadly. �No one missed me.�

�Ravana has no friends!� sniggered Artorius.

�Fwack fwack!�

�Thank you, Stripy,� said Ravana. �But Artorius is right. I made no friends at the dig. The tutors were too busy arguing over findings to notice me. They probably think I ran out on them and took the ship back to Ascension.�

�No one at all?�

Ravana hesitated. �There�s a boy called Xuthus,� she said coyly. �I�d met him before, at the peace conference on Daode, so he talked to me sometimes.�

�A boy, eh?� remarked Kedesh.

�Fwack fwack!�

�It�s not like that!� protested Ravana, feeling embarrassed. Artorius gave a snorting laugh that sounded far too dirty to be from the innocent mouth of an eight-year-old. �Anyway, enough about me and my lack of friends. What brings you to Falsafah?�

�Me? I�m just a filthy-rich, eccentric adventurer,� the woman said briskly. �You�re with the archaeologists? Found anything exciting at Arallu?�

�Dead aliens,� Artorius intoned. Keeping to his seat, he mimed a mummified corpse walking out of a tomb, his arms outstretched above the table.

�How fascinating!� remarked Kedesh. �Ravana, are you not having cake?�

Ravana caught her odd expression, opened her mouth to reply, then hesitantly took a slice. Artorius had not waited to be invited and had already wolfed down three portions. Ravana munched thoughtfully upon the fruit cake and found it surprisingly good.

�A rich adventurer?� she asked, looking at Kedesh. �I don�t believe you.�

�A roving researcher for The Amateur Astronaut�s Guide to the Five Systems?�

�Thraak thraak!�

�She said astronaut, not hitch-hiker,� Artorius told Nana.

�Does it matter who I am?� Kedesh said testily. �I saved your lives! I gave you tea and cake! I�d much rather talk about what you�re doing here, so far away from home.�

�It matters a lot.� Ravana took another sip of tea, unwilling to satisfy the woman�s interest in the excavation until she had some answers herself. �We only have your word that you�re not in league with the nutcases in that dome. How do you know my name?�

Kedesh looked momentarily flustered. �Artorius told me,� she said at last.

�Did I?� Artorius looked surprised.

Ravana raised a surprised eyebrow. �No, I don�t think you did.�

�My mistake,� Kedesh admitted. �Let�s just say I have a special interest in making sure we�re not left on the back foot by groups such as the Dhusarian Church. Anyone who delves into the life of the priest Taranis will soon come across the name of Ravana O�Brien. Is that not so, my would-be demon king of Yuanshi?�

Ravana shuddered. Taranis was one name she was unlikely ever to forget.

�Demon king?� asked Artorius. He looked at Ravana in awe.

�Ravana is the legendary demon king from the Ramayana,� Ravana said, sighing. �Taranis gave me the name before I was born and arranged for me to have a special-forces implant, all as part of a prophecy he invented to win supreme power on Yuanshi. Then my mother rebelled and had treatment to make sure she would have a girl rather than a boy. The Dhusarians do not recognise women as being capable of holding power,� she explained, seeing Artorius look puzzled. �Taranis� stupid war killed my mother, left me scarred for life and drove father and I into exile. I�m now nothing more than an outcast with a stupid boy�s name and hardware in my head I still don�t fully understand.�

�Ravana doesn�t sound like a boy�s name,� Artorius said hesitantly.

�It does if you�re Hindu!� she retorted. �The school bullies reminded me every day. Father found he couldn�t change official records, so made a point of correcting those who pronounced �Ravana� the Indian way instead of how he thought it should be,� she said, emphasising the long vowel of the second �a� in her name. �He�s Australian.�

�It would be like Christians naming their daughter �Satan�,� Kedesh told Artorius and smiled at his look of disgust. �Why not change it unofficially?� she asked Ravana. �Though I appreciate it is hard to cast aside a birth name and put on fresh whites.�

�I did think about it,� she admitted. �But once we left Yuanshi for the Dandridge Cole it no longer seemed important. The folk there saw it as just one more exotic foreign name. Then Taranis turned up and dragged up the past in front of my friends.�

�Who�s Taranis?� asked Artorius, who had slyly reached for another piece of cake.

�A misguided but charismatic priest who brought about the Dhusarian Church,� said Kedesh. �Half man, half machine and totally insane. I�ve been pursuing him for some time.�

�Half machine?� Artorius� eyes went wide.

�He has this spider walker contraption to move him around, only it has somehow become part of him,� Ravana explained. She eyed Kedesh cautiously. �I heard he was dead. And that I killed him.�

Kedesh smiled. �You? I didn�t have you down as the murderous type.�

�Taranis hurt my friends and had us all really scared,� Ravana said bitterly. She shifted uneasily in her seat, for the priest�s alleged death remained an uncomfortable subject. �He was too strong to fight, so we set him and his monsters adrift in deep space. I encouraged Zotz to do it, which makes me just as guilty as if I had pulled the trigger on a gun!�

�Thraak thraak!� interjected Nana.

�I left you to die with him,� Ravana pointed out. �That makes it worse.�

�Your witness appears to think you acted in self-defence.� Kedesh seemed quite taken aback by Ravana�s outburst. �Besides, are you really sure Taranis is dead?�

�Are you saying he�s alive and on Falsafah?�

�I�m not sure. There�s a trail of sorts that leads to Tau Ceti, so I thought it was worth keeping an eye on the Dhusarians� dome,� said Kedesh. �Did you know Taranis used it as a base many years ago, after he disappeared from Yuanshi? Anyway, there was something about the manner of your departure from the dome that seemed suspicious so I followed. It wasn�t until I saw you face to face that I realised who you were,� she added, making as if to touch Ravana�s disfigured cheek. �An Indian girl with such distinctive scars, escaping a Dhusarian compound? It had to be you.�

�What about me?� asked Artorius.

�What about you?� the woman retorted. �I have no idea who you are.�

�How about the greys?� asked Ravana.

�That depends,� she said and looked at Nana. �Are you the unfortunate mother?�

�Thraak,� Nana intoned sadly. �Thraak thraak.�

�You know about the cyberclones?� asked Ravana, surprised.

�Why else do you think I was watching the dome? A disturbing development, even by Dhusarian standards. It rather bowled me over.�

�I never saw them,� Artorius said irritably.

�They�re the monks I told you about,� said Ravana.

�Thraak!�

�Fwack fwack,� added Stripy.

�No, we didn�t think you were the father,� said Kedesh. �I�m sure you are just friends.�

�Fwack fwack fwack!�

�Somehow, I can�t see how hiding in some child�s wardrobe and wearing disguises is relevant. Even if it does involving flying bicycles.�

�On Yuanshi?� Now it was Ravana�s turn to look confused.

�They told me that story,� Artorius remarked. �They were on some moon but got left behind. Nana was injured and captured first, then Stripy was picked up later.�

�I always knew they were more intelligent than people would ever admit,� Ravana said slowly. �And that�s the people who accept them as real. But I thought their ship had crashed. When I first saw Nana, many years ago, I remember seeing wreckage.�

�Your little grey friends are smarter than you could ever possibly imagine,� said Kedesh. �But can we get back to the current state of play? For starters, why are the damned Dhusarians so interested in you?�

�I have no idea!� retorted Ravana, quite put out by the look Kedesh gave her.

�Really?�

�Sorry, but I�m not sure if I can trust you,� said Ravana. The expression on Kedesh�s face turned to one of hurt. �I�ve had my mind messed with once already on this planet.�

�The Dhusarians are not overly fond of me either,� Kedesh reassured her. �How about if we proceed on the basis of my enemy�s enemy is my friend?�

�In my experience it�s never that simple!�

�Do you want to tell me about it?�

Ravana sighed. �The Book of the Greys,� she said. �When we confronted Taranis on the Dandridge Cole, I took his Isa-Sastra. It�s the original, the one the Dhusarians claim was given to a prophet called Betty Hill three hundred years ago.�

�Thraak thraak,� added Nana.

�Yes, I know it was you who wanted me to take it.�

Kedesh looked at Ravana. �And?�

�The book contains a passage on whatever it is buried out there in the Arallu Wastes,� said Ravana. �Taranis seemed to think it was very important.�

�Buried treasure?� suggested Artorius.

�Fwack fwack!�

�And it intrigued you enough to join the Bradbury Heights dig to see it for yourself,� Kedesh observed, eyeing Ravana carefully. �But there�s more to it than that, isn�t there?�

It was not a question. Ravana took a thoughtful sip of tea and wondered, not for the first time, just how much their mysterious rescuer really did know.

�We had started to uncover what Professor Cadmus thought was an alien temple,� she told Kedesh. �He was very excited about a long sequence of hieroglyphs we found engraved on the remains of a glass archway. I didn�t tell anyone that I�d found an exact match in alien script in the Isa-Sastra, in the section Taranis believed was a prophecy.�

�So you think there�s something at Arallu the Dhusarians want for themselves?�

�All I know is someone once told me that Taranis would not let anyone else see the original Isa-Sastra,� Ravana said. �I wondered if the Dhusarians are worried that I�ll reveal this connection between the Arallu hieroglyphs and the supposed prophecy.�

�Where is the book now?� asked Kedesh.

�Not on Falsafah. I have a scanned copy on my slate back at the dig, though.�

�Even more reason to reunite you with your fellow archaeologists as soon as possible,� mused Kedesh. �Were you carrying enough supplies to get that far?�

�No,� admitted Ravana. �We were hoping to pick up more food at a settlement the map showed a couple of days from here.�

�I know it,� Kedesh replied. �I�m pretty sure it�s abandoned, but standard practice is to leave some stuff behind in case of emergencies. I don�t have enough rations aboard to sustain the four of us all the way to Arallu, so we�ll stick to your plan. It�ll be good to drop by Morrigan�s Bar,� she added wistfully. �There�s something about this endless desert that makes me crave a long, cool schooner of lager. They serve it ice-cold in Arallu.�

�You�re taking us to the dig?� asked Ravana, surprised.

�You have intrigued me, Ravana,� Kedesh said and picked up the one piece of cake Artorius had left unmolested. �There�s something out there the Dhusarians want to keep secret. That�s enough for me!�

Kedesh�s transport was more powerful than the one Ravana and Artorius had stolen from the dome and in no time at all they had left the crash site behind, the vehicle bouncing defiantly across the rocky desert, heading north-west as if fleeing the breaking dawn. The transport�s navigational computer held large-scale geographical studies of Falsafah and with Kedesh busy at the controls, Ravana whiled away the time examining the terrain between them and the distant Arallu Wastes. Despite her reservations, they were aiming for the gravel road, which ran north from the Dhusarians� dome for a few hundred kilometres and then curved west to a small landing strip Kedesh believed was used to fly in supplies. From there, the road continued a thousand kilometres west along the equator to another tiny airstrip recorded as disused. The unnamed settlement Ravana noted earlier was a short distance north from there, along with the hope they would find what they needed by way of food. The road ran no further and the following five thousand kilometres to Arallu were across a range of mountains that looked a daunting prospect for anything on wheels.

�We should hit the road far enough west of the Dhusarians� airstrip that we won�t be spotted,� Kedesh reassured her. �Until then, it�ll be cross-country driving for the next five or six hours. We should pick up pace after that.�

�Fine by me,� replied Ravana. She was glad to be on the move again.

Artorius and the greys sat quietly in the cabin behind, strangely subdued. Ravana took a break from studying maps and idly scrutinised the disfigured skin of her right forearm. As a child on Yuanshi, she had been caught in a bomb blast during a skirmish between Que Qiao agents and royalist rebels. The scars had been there for as long as she could remember, yet the last few months had seen a change, for the faint silver tracings she had first noticed upon her face in the mirror had now also appeared amidst the scar tissue of her weakened right arm. When she caught Kedesh giving her an inquisitive look, Ravana pulled down her sleeve and stared resolutely through the windscreen.

�Is everything okay?� the woman asked.

�Not really,� Ravana said with a sigh. �But I live in hope.�

A few hours into their journey, when Artorius had crept into a bunk to take his third nap of the day, Kedesh returned to the subject of Taranis. The greys sat perched on the edge of the bunk behind Kedesh and Ravana in the cockpit, comically swaying with the motion of the transport as it swept on over the dunes. It had been playing on Ravana�s mind as to why Kedesh was so unfazed by the presence of the greys. The existence of intelligent aliens was a long way from being officially acknowledged. Governments across the five systems held the line that the legendary greys of Epsilon Eridani were figments of the deluded; alternatively, that they were an invention of the Dhusarians, which to many amounted to the same thing. Ravana did not have Kedesh down as either and her casual acceptance was puzzling.

�Tell me about the book,� said Kedesh. �The Isa-Sastra. Is it genuine?�

�It�s a fascinating thing,� Ravana told her, wondering how much to reveal. �When I first heard the story of how extraterrestrials supposedly brought it to Earth I found it difficult to take seriously. But it�s certainly in no script I�d seen before coming to the dig. What�s interesting is that the way it is written makes it possible to interpret the basics from scratch, even with no cultural or linguistic references to work with.�

�It sounds like you�ve been studying it a while.�

Ravana hesitated. �Administrator Verdandi at Newbrum wanted an inquest into the Dhusarian Church,� she said. �Her office confiscated the book as evidence. It was rather naughty of me, but before I handed it over a friend of mine helped me scan the entire thing, including Taranis� notes, so there�s now a holovid file of it on my slate. So yes, I have had quite a bit of time to look at it since.�

�That was sly,� Kedesh murmured approvingly.

�Taranis had been studying it for years,� Ravana told her. �He�d deciphered the basic script, but really had barely scratched the surface. I got hold of the official interpretation from the net, the one used in the books given to members of the Dhusarian Church. It�s obvious he wildly embellished what decoded fragments he had to create the translation.�

�Fwack fwack!� chided Stripy.

�Thraak,� agreed Nana.

�That�s religion for you,� Kedesh remarked. �If it is the real thing, I�m amazed it can be read at all. The programme Artorius kindly dropped into our heads is also quite incredible. I assume Taranis� research on one led to the development of the other.�

�It�s all very clever,� Ravana admitted. �The book starts with a series of diagrams that anyone with a bit of chemistry knowledge would recognise as elements from the periodic table. Each has numbers in both binary and their own script, which Taranis worked out uses a system in base twelve. This then goes on into mathematics and physics, so that numbers and words in the book�s script can be defined through basic concepts in distance, movement and time. What Taranis struggled with but I spotted straight away is that the equations use Planck units, which are universal constants.�

�Sounds a thrilling read.�

�Then there�s short sections on biology and geography with yet more diagrams. Finally, there�s a tricky section that I think tries to bring it all together to explain verbs and the finer points of the grey�s language. Taranis didn�t get far with that; having tried to go through it myself, I�m not surprised. However, he must have made quite a bit of progress for someone to develop the implant translation programme.�

Kedesh gave Nana a thoughtful look. �What do you know of this?�

�Thraak thraak!�

�Fwack fwack,� added Stripy.

�So the book sounds genuine, but you have no idea who created it?�

�It never occurred to me to ask the greys,� mused Ravana.

�Maybe it was an attempt at first contact,� Kedesh remarked. �That would bowl anyone over. So is that all it is? A teach-yourself-alien phrasebook?�

�Fwack!� retorted Stripy.

�I wasn�t being patronising!�

�The rest is what Taranis called the sacred texts,� replied Ravana. �The fabled Book of the Greys! From the bits he had translated, it seems to be a history of their civilisation. This is where the so-called prophecy about Falsafah is written.�

�I take it you�re not a believer. Can you remember what it said?�

Ravana frowned. �That�s the weird thing. Artorius recited a few lines of it earlier and said the nurses had taught it to him, though I�m not sure why. But there was also this other phrase that was so odd it stuck in my mind.�

Kedesh gave her a questioning look. �Which is?�

�Paw-prints of the gods,� she said. �Or at least, that was Taranis� translation.�

The hours slipped by. At one point, Ravana thought she saw a flash of silver and a pair of yellow eyes lurking in the shadow of a nearby dune, but with innumerable doubts still clouding her mind was reluctant to mention it to anyone else. Eventually, the thin black line of the gravel track appeared on the horizon, unnaturally stark and straight amidst the endless rolling sands. Artorius became ever more sullen and punctuated his complaints about the constant rocking of the transport with noisy grumbles about the lack of food in his stomach. Kedesh reluctantly agreed to stop for a rest once they reached the road.

They parked on the edge of the road�s low embankment, facing west ready for the next leg of the journey. Artorius waited at the table, his expression that of someone unwilling to fetch food for himself when there were others quite capable of getting it for him. Ravana, having been handed a box of rations from Kedesh, barely had time to examine the contents before Artorius snatched it from her to rummage for what he wanted.

�What a rude little boy,� commented Kedesh. �Anyone else want tea?�

Ravana nodded assent, extracted the box from Artorius� grubby hands and retrieved a selection of packs for Kedesh, the greys and herself. Everything in the box was a vegetarian dish, which no doubt accounted for Artorius� disappointed scowl. She was handing the box back to the boy when a loud beeping noise was heard from the cockpit. The communication console had come to life and a screen showed a code number and a graphic of a silver shield. Ravana looked closer and scowled. Upon the shield was the word: �POLICE�.

�It seems Artorius� rudeness is contagious,� murmured Kedesh, coming to her side. �Why do people always call when we�re just about to eat?�

�You could ignore them,� Ravana suggested warily. �Pretend we�re asleep?�

�And turn down a chance to chat with Que Qiao agents? The local police are the big fish in a lonely pond and do not take kindly to being ignored.�

�What�s happening?� asked Artorius, his mouth full of food.

�Shut up and eat your dinner,� Kedesh told him. �No, wait! Ravana, take him and the neands into the back and find somewhere to hide. If they catch sight of you on holovid it will lead to all sorts of awkward questions.�

Ravana caught the look in the woman�s eye. She quickly rounded up a protesting Artorius and herded him and the greys into the transport�s small washroom, then squeezed in after them. She pulled the door closed behind her, careful to leave a small gap. Ravana watched as Kedesh lowered herself into the driver�s seat, clearly perturbed.

Kedesh reached for the console and pressed the switch to accept the call. The image on the holovid screen promptly changed to show the fierce Arabic features of a woman wearing a distinctive blue headscarf. From the way the view occasionally juddered, Ravana guessed the Que Qiao agent was calling from a moving vehicle.

�My dear Ininna,� greeted Kedesh, her voice steady. �We meet again.�

�Kedesh!� snapped the caller. �By the mighty Allah, why are you still on Falsafah? We have made it clear you have no jurisdiction here!�

�I missed my flight. Thought I�d take in the sights while I wait for another.�

The woman pushed back a stray length of dark hair and scowled. �There�s been a lot of odd activity in the area these last few days. It�s too much of a coincidence to find that you�re still around,� she said irritably. �Our transport will be with you in ten minutes and I expect you to be ready to receive visitors. Understand?�

�I�ll come to you,� Kedesh told her. �Do you have any tea?�

�You�ll get what�s coming to you. Don�t try running out on us again!�

The screen went dead. Kedesh leaned back in her seat and glanced at the scanner display. From her hiding place, Ravana saw the red square that had appeared behind them to the east. She recalled the navigation satellite was a Que Qiao device and wondered if it had been tracking their progress ever since the stolen transport left the dome.

Kedesh clambered from her chair, made her way to the rear of the cabin and lifted a survival suit off the hanger next to the airlock door. As an afterthought, she opened a nearby locker and retrieved one of her prized stock of wrapped fruit cakes. The sudden creak from the washroom door made her jump.

�Is everything okay?� asked Ravana, peering through the gap.

�I�m going to step outside for a while,� Kedesh told her. �I may be some time.�

Lilith stared through the windscreen of the transport and silently scrutinised the scene in the desert before them. An identical vehicle lay nose down in a crater, metres from where they were parked. The open airlock door and extra set of wheel tracks were evidence enough that their quarry was long gone. She returned her attention to the communication console and tried not to look too smug as she regarded the hooded features of Brother Simha on the holovid screen. Her panic at the thought that Ravana had gone and killed both herself and Artorius mercifully had proved short-lived.

�It seems our friend found them just in time,� remarked Lilith.

�zz-thee-daayy-oof-thee-staar-maan-iis-neeaar-zz!� Simha rasped vehemently. �zz-theeyy-muust-noot-sliip-throouugh-yyoouur-fiingeers-zz!�

�They slipped through yours,� muttered Lilith. �And you have twelve.�

�Do we follow the tracks?� Dagan asked, who sat at the controls.

Lilith ignored him. �They may head for the excavation,� she declared, addressing the face on the screen. �It is unfortunate your chemical interrogations failed to extract the whereabouts of Taranis� papers when the girl�s memory was yours to reap, but her new-found friend may win her confidence. We will recover the boy and the greys soon enough.�

�zz-yyoouu-muust-doo-whaat-neeeeds-too-bee-doonee-zz!�

�Of course,� Lilith replied coolly.

The holovid went blank. Lilith let her gaze drift to the bleak desert before them. The two cyberclones scared her; just that morning she spied them eating what smelt like raw pork, but which she knew was not. Jizo remained unfazed by the monks, but Dagan�s startled stare told Lilith her own apprehension was not unwarranted. It had taken a considerable sum of credits to bribe Sir Bedivere�s crew into bringing Dagan and his bubble-cockpit microlight to the airstrip near the Dhusarians� dome, but Lilith needed someone she could trust.

�Greys?� Dagan asked in awe. �Have our interstellar guides come at last?�

�Not quite. They�re a couple of funny ape-like aliens from Epsilon Eridani,� she told him. �The problem is that these greys are smart, very smart; and the boy has the translator in his head. Whether he really is the �reborn traveller� of this stupid prophecy is irrelevant; my worry is that if we don�t contain the situation, our alien runaways could raise too many questions about our beloved Dhusarian Church. People do not like it when their gods turn out to be just another version of themselves.�

�Arallu is six thousand kilometres away,� Dagan remarked, gripping the steering wheel. �They can�t possibly hope to get there before us.�

�That drunk psycho Jizo knows something about the girl she�s not telling,� Lilith added absent-mindedly. �She was Taranis� nurse for a while and thinks that makes her an authority on everything. Did you know the Isa-Sastra has been revised at least twice?�

Dagan shook his head.

�Early versions contained a prophecy regarding Maharaja Ravana, who would one day liberate Yuanshi and Daode. The missing girl is called Ravana. Coincidence?�

�I thought the prophecy was about the boy,� Dagan said weakly.

�There are many prophecies. All nonsense, of course.�

�About the excavation?�

�No, in this case, just the one,� Lilith said testily. Dagan�s approach to church was that of an activist, not a theologian and she could almost see his head starting to hurt. �I hear you�ve been doing sterling work sabotaging the rape and pillage of our scared inheritance. Everything is playing out as expected and we will be at Arallu soon enough.�

�It�s a long way by transport,� he reminded her. �The microlight can�t take us both.�

�The Atterberg Epiphany returns in three days. We shall fly there in style.�

Que Qiao officer Ininna was not happy, a state of mind Kedesh could testify often resulted in those nearby breaking out in bruises. Ininna and her colleague Yima, a big burly Arab who had his own ideas when it came to applying the full force of the law, had been talking to Kedesh for over an hour but as yet the red-haired woman had not told them anything they did not know already.

�You disgust me,� muttered Ininna. She raised a hand to make Kedesh flinch, then lowered it again. �Your life is one big act and all you can give me are lies. Did you help the occupants of that crashed transport?�

�You�ve asked me that already,� Kedesh murmured. The cut on her lip opened up again and she winced. The wire from the lie-detector probe on her forehead rubbed against her nose and Ininna saw the woman was desperately ignoring the urge to scratch the itch, especially after what happened last time she tried. �The same question, six times. Do you really think my answer is going to change anytime soon? And where is this tea you promised me an hour ago? I brought you cake! You should always have tea with cake.�

�Dessert in the desert,� mused Ininna. �You English are so quaint.�

�It�s called being civilised,� Kedesh retorted. �You should try it some time.�

�Someone must have rescued whoever was in there,� Yima said softly, who knew his place when it came to the �good cop, bad cop� routine. Ininna did not like competition in badness stakes. �Your vehicle was the only one in the area at the time.�

�I have no idea how they got out of that transport!�

Ininna glanced at the read-out of the lie detector and sighed. The devices were illegal and results could not be cited in a court of law, but in this case the point was moot. Kedesh was telling the truth. She plucked free the electrode and tossed it unceremoniously aside.

�I�m bored with this game,� she said. �Get out of my sight.�

�Fine,� muttered Kedesh, looking pained. �Next time, don�t lure me here under false pretences. A promise of tea is not one broken lightly.�

Kedesh retrieved her suit�s helmet and quickly made her way to the airlock before Ininna could change her mind. Before long she was outside and limping back to the green transport ahead, parked forward of the police vehicle on the long gravel road.

�Did you have to hit her that hard?� asked Yima. �She seemed to be telling the truth.�

�Kedesh doesn�t know the meaning of the word!� retorted Ininna. �The charlatan could hardly deny being there given satellite evidence, but do you really believe her story that she found that transport empty? If so, why is she now in such a hurry to head west? It�s all tied up with whatever�s going on at Arallu, mark my words.�

�You don�t know that.�

�Something has rattled the Dhusarians,� she pointed out. �Someone steals a transport from their dome, abandons it in a crater in the middle of nowhere, yet no one falls over themselves to get the authorities involved? We know that idiot activist Dagan has been out causing trouble at Arallu. I�m convinced there�s a connection.�

�There�s also that missing person report,� added Yima. Ininna could tell he was still not sure what she was getting at. �The one raised by the boy at the dig?�

�I tried to make contact with a professor on site who�s on the Que Qiao payroll but had no luck. Our people on Aram are being very cagey about him,� she said thoughtfully. �By the way, I get the impression they�ve found something quite spectacular out there.�

She lapsed into silence and watched as Kedesh clambered slowly up the steps into her transport, encumbered not so much by her survival suit and helmet but by the pain of fresh bruises. An hour in the company of Que Qiao agents was often not a pleasant one. Ininna smiled, then realised Yima still looked at her with a vague expression upon his face.

�The Dhusarians are harassing the archaeologists,� she said. �A Grand Priory spy is on the loose. There�s an abandoned transport no one wants to talk about and all of a sudden we find Commander Kedesh rushing off the map towards Arallu. Coincidence?�

�Something spectacular in Arallu,� mused Yima. �Maybe we should check it out.�

MOMUS GAZED IN WONDER at the enormous churning ball of gas in a thousand shades of brown that filled the view before him. Thunor was the fourth planet out from Barnard�s Star and the second largest in the system after the mighty Woden. It was slightly smaller than Saturn in the Solar System and lacked that planet�s magnificent icy rings, but there was no denying it was still one of the most breathtaking sights Momus had ever seen. The planet went from huge through massive onto truly gargantuan, until the scale of what lay before him became simply far too large for his brain to contemplate. Thunor�s moon of Eostre was but a dark dot far away on the Indra�s starboard bow, yet even the knowledge that this rocky satellite was as large as Earth�s own moon did little to help his sense of perspective. The tiny speck ahead that was CSS Sky Cleaver looked as lost and alone as a cork bobbing in the middle of a storm-wracked sea.

�Wow,� murmured Momus, not for the first time. �That�s a frigging big planet.�

The Sky Cleaver cloud-mining facility worked in the tenuous upper atmosphere of Thunor, orbiting fast and low on the very edge of space. It was of a similar wheel-and-axle design to Stellarbridge, though slightly smaller and with a longer static pontoon that extended from the wheel on both sides, perpendicular to what passed for the surface of the planet below. The mast extending towards the gaseous mantle of Thunor served as an anchor for the kilometres-long cable of high-tensile piping that descended into the planet�s atmosphere; on the other end, a huge conical net ionised the swirling gas and sucked it up the pipe by way of electromagnetic induction. Powerful compressors at the top of the cable pumped and separated harvested hydrogen and helium-three through the station�s axle to the huge gas tanks on the far-side pontoon. It was an impressive piece of engineering and one that in various guises guaranteed a virtually-unlimited supply of fuel for spacecraft and fusion reactors across the five systems.

Sky Cleaver�s docking area was on the pontoon pointing away from Thunor, next to the cluster of spherical reservoirs that were hopefully full and ready to replenish the Indra�s own tanks. Momus settled back in his seat, content to let the automatic guidance controls handle the final approach. It became apparent that of the four docking positions, two were taken. At one was a large, odd-looking vessel, in the shape of a monstrous silver cylinder with the largest rocket nozzle he had ever seen protruding from the rear, secured to the pontoon by cables and a flexible tubular walkway. A sleek Mars-class spaceplane in the blue livery adopted by Newbrum police was docked at another.

The presence of the police vehicle was worrying, but more so was the absence of the heavy-duty shuttle that served as Sky Cleaver�s emergency lifeboat. As the Indra drew nearer, Momus began to wonder if he should have paid more attention to the disturbing rumours going around Newbrum spaceport. Just then, he heard an electronic purr and saw Ravana�s electric pet float into view from behind the co-pilot�s seat.

�Do you think they�ve really been eaten by mutant rats?� he asked. �Perhaps having a frigging mad moggy at my side might be handy after all.�

Quirinus stood in the hangar, moved his gaze along the hull of the Platypus and thoughtfully stroked his beard. The scaffolding around the bow was gone, most of the inspection hatches were bolted back in place and in his pocket was a light unit, stolen from a fitting in one of the abandoned rooms of Dockside, ready to be installed in the ship�s toilet cubicle. He and Wak had worked almost non-stop on the ship ever since Momus� departure and nine hours on, it finally felt as if they were making progress. Wak and Zotz stood beside him, both of whom looked as tired as he felt.

�Well?� asked Quirinus. �What do you think?�

�Let me get this straight,� Wak said wearily. �You want to strap three rockets to the side of the hull? We are talking about those dodgy industrial thrusters the miners use to bring ice asteroids back to Ascension, are we not?�

�I found five of them in the other hangar,� Quirinus told him. �Along with a herd of cows and more manure than I�ve ever seen in my life! They must have been brought here for repairs and never collected. I�ve checked the power ratings and reckon I�ll need three to provide the extra thrust needed to blast us into orbit from Falsafah.�

�Three cows?� Zotz asked innocently, teasing him.

�Don�t be silly,� retorted Quirinus. �Three cows are barely two horsepower.�

�You�re mad,� Wak declared. �The hull won�t take the strain!�

�The chassis already has proper mounting points,� Quirinus pointed out. �Early Mars-class freighters were built on Earth and they used boosters to get into orbit. We�ll fit one either side and one on top, a hundred and twenty degrees apart. It�s perfect!�

Zotz looked puzzled. �Wouldn�t having rockets on the side block the door?�

Quirinus looked flustered. �Of course not! Maybe. Okay, yes it would. It just means having to use the roof docking hatch to get in and out, that�s all.�

�Which means finding somewhere to land on Falsafah that has someone waiting with a long ladder,� mused Wak. �No, I can�t see any flaw in your plan at all.�

�Do you have a better idea?� retorted Quirinus.

�Yes! Leave it to the proper authorities!� said Wak. �Or wait until the University�s ship heads out there again. I�m sure they won�t mind you hitching a ride.�

�I can�t leave it another two weeks,� said Quirinus. �You know that.�

For a moment there was silence, broken only by the gentle bleating of sheep in the corridor outside. Quirinus saw Zotz�s gaze move to a mangled white shape in the corner of the hangar, which looked like a man-sized artificial lobster with a glass canopy and giant metal claws. It was the Platypus� single-seat extra-vehicular pod from the small bay beneath the flight deck, used to perform repairs in space. Its crumpled outline was testament to the fact it had borne the brunt of the impact with the sun.

�You could use the pod bay door,� Zotz suggested. �Or hang a rope ladder from the roof hatch. That means you could use the mining rockets like you said.�

Quirinus looked from the discarded pod to the hatch beneath the beak-like nose of the Platypus. Ravana had used the pod bay as a way off the ship before, though doing the same on Falsafah whilst wearing survival suits would not be easy.

�Good idea,� he said. �I�m glad someone from your family is trying to be helpful.�

�Helpful?� exclaimed Wak. �You�re as mad as each other!�

The job of retrieving the mining boosters from the hangar on the far side of Dockside took Quirinus longer than he would have liked. The bulky rockets had to be transported through the main cavern, where the oxygen content had dropped to virtually zero and the air was cold enough to freeze his blood. Not only did he have to wear a survival suit, but he also had to stop the cows from wandering outside whilst winching his cargo onto Professor Wak�s battered blue hovertruck. The vehicle was not really up to the task and could only carry one booster at a time. The cows, bred for low gravity and freakishly huge, did little to help.

Quirinus had just made his third trip back to the Platypus when he was interrupted by a beep from his wristpad. He was surprised to see he had a message from Administrator Verdandi, requesting that he contact her as soon as possible. The thought that it may be news of his missing daughter immediately led him to fear the worst. He quickly extracted himself from the bulky suit and hurried to Wak�s workshop to use the holovid booth.

Verdandi had not expected him to respond so quickly and Quirinus suffered several minutes of tedious conversation with her apathetic secretary before the Administrator herself came to the screen. The chickens clucking at his feet did little to ease the tension.

�My dear Quirinus,� she greeted, looking solemn. �You are not an easy man to track down. I�m afraid I�ve had a rather disturbing message passed to me regarding the excavation on Falsafah and I wondered if you�d heard from your daughter.�

Quirinus gripped the arms of his chair and braced himself for bad news. �I was hoping to speak to Ravana earlier today but she missed our regular holovid chat,� he said slowly. �What have you heard?�

�Your daughter went missing from the expedition a fortnight ago. Her colleagues thought she had returned to Ascension the last time the ship was at Arallu. It was not until one of the students asked the pilots where she was that they realised no one knew.�

�Two weeks?� exclaimed Quirinus, then remembered that the pilot of the Sir Bedivere had said pretty much the same thing. �How do you know all this?�

�A student called Xuthus raised the alarm when he spoke to his father earlier today,� Verdandi replied. �His father didn�t know how to get hold of you and so contacted my office instead. I�m making further enquiries, but I�m having to go through Que Qiao police channels on Aram. As yet, they�ve heard nothing back from their agents on Falsafah.�

�Two weeks,� he murmured. He had never been to Falsafah but knew it to be a hostile, unforgiving place. On those sorts of worlds you were lucky to survive two minutes outside without protection, never mind a whole fortnight.

�I�m really sorry to be the bearer of bad news,� she said and gave a sympathetic smile. �I must say you�re taking it all rather well. You must be worried stiff.�

�Believe me, I am.� Up until then, Quirinus had not appreciated the depth of his fear and for a moment fell silent. He absent-mindedly pushed away a chicken with his foot. �Could you send one of your own police units? Or get the expedition�s ship to return ahead of schedule? You could pick me up on the way.�

�You know better than that,� said Verdandi. �My jurisdiction barely reaches to the end of the runway at Newbrum! Even if I could sanction such action, all our officers are tied up with the Sky Cleaver investigation. By the way, if you have plans to send your tanker, I strongly advise you to wait until the new crew arrives. Fuelling operations are suspended.�

�Sounds like there�s trouble all round,� Quirinus said thoughtfully. He decided not to mention that Momus and the Indra were already on their way. �I may as well tell you that I intend to take the Platypus to Falsafah. It�ll take another day or so to finish repairs but I mean to be on my way as soon as possible.�

�I can�t stop you, of course. I will take it for granted that you are not flying without a licence as long as that pilot you hired is with you.�

Quirinus managed a smile. �Thank you. Let me know if you hear anything else.�

�Just one more thing,� said Verdandi. �Is it me or can I hear a chicken clucking?�

Momus gingerly pulled himself through the Indra�s outer airlock door and shuddered. The dimly-lit steel corridor that ran the length of Sky Cleaver�s docking pontoon creaked ominously. The cloud-mining station was one of the oldest human constructs in the Barnard�s Star system and Momus tried not to think of what would happen when the years spent orbiting in Thunor�s fierce gravity well finally took their toll.

The passageway was deserted. Directly opposite was another hatch, with two more on either side of the corridor several metres away to his left. Momus drifted across to peer through the small viewing port in the door opposite, then gave a startled yelp as the Indra�s hatch suddenly hissed closed behind him. He grabbed a handrail, pulled himself along the corridor and paused. He had heard a distant clunk and murmur of voices.

�Hello?� he called. �Is there anybody there?�

The quiet groaning of the superstructure was unnerving. His heart racing, Momus strained to listen for signs of life, but all he could hear was the omnipresent murmur of life-support systems and occasional beep of a control panel. Then he heard another thump, this time from the far end of the pontoon. His glance darted from one end of the corridor to the other, but saw nothing. A muscle on his face seized the opportunity to develop an annoying nervous twitch. He pushed back a floating lock of hair with a trembling, clammy hand.

Momus cursed. In his startled movements back and forth, he had lost all sense of direction and forgotten which of the four hatches led back to the comforting familiarity of the Indra. It was then he heard a scratching noise, followed by another thud as something soft bumped against a nearby airlock door.

�Who�s there?� he whispered. �Stop playing frigging games!�

The scratching came from the hatch behind him. Momus turned, slowly raised a hand to the nearby control panel and pressed the switch to open the door.

A black bundle of fur shot through the opening towards his face, hissing violently. Momus released a blood-curdling scream and leapt away from a sudden onslaught of flailing paws and claws. The electric cat shot across the corridor, bounced off the opposite wall and with another hiss wrapped its limbs around a convenient handrail.

�Crappy frigging cat!� yelled Momus. �You evil spawn of a waste-disposal unit! You mangy heap of fake fur! You scared the bloody frigging life out of me!�

He heard another series of thumps from behind him and in a panic turned again.

�Stop right there!� came an angry voice. �Put your hands where I can see them!�

Momus grabbed the edge of the airlock door to stop himself spinning and stared at the two police officers standing at the far end of the passage. The men were clad in matching pressure suits in starless black, with the only concession to high visibility being a fluorescent yellow stripe up the arms and legs. They had removed their helmets and carried them in a net fixed to their bulky backpacks, ready within arm�s reach in case of unexpected depressurisation. Both wore magnetic boots and stood firm in the pontoon corridor, leaving Momus feeling distinctly at a disadvantage as he bobbed uncertainly before them. The eyes of the men were concealed by enhanced-reality shades; only police-issue visors worked on the various networks in the Barnard�s Star system and the god-like omniscience it gave officers unnerved Momus. He knew their unprofessional smirks were for his benefit.

�Who are you!� The officer who spoke sported a neat goatee, short blond hair and a terrible attempt at fake tan. Momus thought he seemed strangely nervous. �This facility is��

�What are you doing here?� his colleague interrupted. He looked young for an officer, with smooth pale skin and slick jet-black hair. �Speak up, man!�

�I�m here for bloody fuel,� retorted Momus. His heart thumped hard after the surprise attack by the cat. �Who the crapping hell are you? Where are the crew? More to the point, if you want to talk and wave frigging guns, can we do it somewhere with some gravity?�

�I am Captain Nyx of the Newbrum Police Department,� the dark-haired officer said.

�And I am�� began his colleague.

�We haven�t got time for this!� snapped Nyx. �Sir, I must respectfully warn you that you are trespassing at a crime scene. I insist you leave immediately!�

Momus warily regarded the percussion rifles pointing his way. He had not forgotten that there was very little between him and the station�s huge storage tanks of highly-explosive hydrogen. �Aren�t you supposed to use plasma guns or something?�

�Plasma rounds cost money,� the blond officer replied, sounding rueful.

�As do bullets!� Nyx said angrily. �Please do not give us a reason to waste any by making holes in you.�

�Shouldn�t we question this man?� suggested his colleague.

�No need,� said Momus. �Just give me a frigging moment to connect up the hoses and I�ll go back to my ship and stay out of your way. Do I bloody look daft enough to disturb the work of Newbrum�s finest? I�m sure you have good reason to be out at the back-end of crappy nowhere. As do I,� he quickly added, acutely aware that he was sweating profusely and babbling like an idiot. �Did I mention I�m only here for frigging fuel and not for anything even remotely connected to whatever it is that brought you here?�

�We�re here on official police business,� Nyx growled. �This is an inquest.�

The blond officer looked confused. �You said we were here to avoid this becoming an official inquest and to cover up any evidence that��

�Thank you, sergeant,� Nyx interjected quickly. Momus got the impression that unlike his colleague, the dark-haired man had a rather cavalier attitude to applying the law. �We were not expecting visitors. If there�s one thing I hate, it�s mysterious strangers.�

�His name is Momus,� the sergeant replied. Momus saw him smile and guessed the man�s visor had matched his face to a police file. Whatever was on record was apparently amusing enough for the officer to recover from his earlier confusion.

�Captain Momus,� the reluctant pilot of the Indra corrected meekly. �As in space captain, not a proper police captain like your good self,� he added to Nyx.

�It says here your ship is currently grounded at Newbrum for failing safety checks,� the sergeant mused, contemplating the text scrolling before his eyes. �Last summer you were fined and had your licence suspended for a month after crashing a shuttle into Stellarbridge. Then there was that time��

�Oh,� said Nyx and grinned. �That Momus.�

�And now I�m flying a crappy tanker,� retorted Momus. �I�m glad I amuse you.�

Zotz sat in the VR booth, mesmerised by the view from the Indra�s flight deck as seen through the eyes of a cat in zero gravity. By now, Momus had been aboard Sky Cleaver for over an hour, but instantaneous transmissions were not possible from the Indra and the communication delay meant the screen was still relaying the tanker�s final approach into dock. Zotz too had noticed the two other ships on the pontoon and was intrigued by the huge silver cylinder lashed to the station. He had a pretty good idea of what it was, but wanted to make sure before he told his father and Quirinus the news.

Seeing the other spacecraft docked nearby gave him an idea. While neither the Indra nor Sky Cleaver had extra-dimensional drives, Zotz recognised the police cruiser as a type of ship that did. Endymion had once shown him a useful hack that allowed any wristpad to bypass usual security protocols and lock onto the nearest available ED transmitter. This was something meant to be used by emergency services only, but the short sequence of code given to him by Endymion opened the channel for all transmissions from any network device. In this instance, Zotz hoped it would allow him to get a real-time link to Ravana�s cat via the police cruiser�s ED drive. It was a sneaky thing to do, but in his mind this sort of hacking was mischievous rather than malicious.

�Hey Jones,� he murmured. �It�s time to go exploring!�

He paused and peered from the VR booth, wary that his father or Quirinus may be about to disturb him, but apart from the goose he was alone. Satisfied, he tapped at the screen of his wristpad and found the file containing Endymion�s hack. Only then did he pull out the VR unit�s keyboard, bring up the booth�s terminal text screen and begin to type.

Despite a great deal of grumbling from the police officers, Momus insisted on doing his job. Under their wary gaze, he checked that the Indra had successfully connected with Sky Cleaver�s refuelling gantry and the pumps were running normally. Only then did he allow them to lead him away for questioning.

The torus of the mining facility was a hundred and fifty metres in diameter, which like that of the larger Stellarbridge rotated twice a minute to generate the illusion of gravity. The main wheel was joined to the hub by four spokes, each of which contained a walkway ladder descending to the cabins at the rim. Once there, the centrifugal force became around two-thirds that of Ascension�s surface gravity or a third that of Earth.

The crew cabins were long and narrow with a floor and ceiling that curved up in a most disquieting way. Momus was reminded of his uncle�s narrowboat, having once many years ago spent several weeks of his school holidays navigating along the heritage waterways of Birmingham. Then he realised he was actually thinking about his uncle�s hamster and the way it kept running pointlessly around its wheel.

The officers led him to the facility�s medical unit. There, upon the examination table, he was greeted by the alarming sight of a long shape beneath a blood-stained sheet.

�Don�t mind him,� said Nyx, nodding at the sheet. �He�s dead.�

�One of the crew?� Momus asked nervously. �Only I couldn�t help noticing it�s a bit too frigging quiet around here for my liking.�

�We found this unfortunate soul in that piece of junk tied to the pontoon,� said the blond sergeant. �We�re working on the theory that��

�You may know him,� interjected Nyx. �Care to take a look?�

He took hold of the sheet and with an unnecessary flourish whipped it away from the head of the dead man beneath. Momus recoiled at the sight of the pale-skinned corpse. The deceased, who was dark-haired with a neat goatee beard, was no one he recognised.

�Did you kill him?� asked Nyx.

�What?� exclaimed Momus. �No, I frigging well did not!�

�You arrived in the Indra, which belongs to the refugees from the Dandridge Cole,� said Nyx. �That colossal lump of steel moored next to your own ship happens to be an engine unit from the very same asteroid. Coincidence?�

�Yes!� Momus exclaimed nervously. �Well, maybe not. Wak did say the crew here wanted to talk to us in person about something.�

�According to their records, it was salvaged by the Sky Cleaver crew and brought here with the aim of selling it back to the Dandridge Cole for a not inconsiderable sum,� said Nyx. �Was the price perhaps a little too rich? Is that why you resorted to murder?�

�I have never seen that man before in my life!�

�Are you sure?� asked the other officer. �We have ways of��

�I am not a frigging murderer!�

Nyx paused. �I believe you,� he said at last. �Look at you! You�re shaking like a leaf just thinking about it. As it happens, the crew met their untimely end long before you showed up, so as theories go it doesn�t really work.�

�They�re dead?� asked Momus, regarding Nyx warily. �All of them?�

�We can only vouch for the few we found.�

�You haven�t found all of them?�

�Sorry,� said Nyx. �I meant for the bits of crew we found. Mostly on the walls.�

�Crapping hell,� murmured Momus.

�Exactly,� replied the blond sergeant. �Someone came here, attacked the crew and then took off with their ship, leaving this half-eaten body behind. Who knows what��

�Half-eaten body?� cried Momus, interrupting. �You mean that man lying under the sheet has been� well, eaten?�

�Half-eaten,� corrected Nyx. �Arms and legs, mainly.�

�That�s frigging gross.�

�And it definitely wasn�t you?� asked Nyx, smiling slyly.

�I�m no cannibal!� Momus cried. He wondered why he was being told the gory details and decided Nyx just wanted to see him squirm. �Who did this? Where are they now?�

�The stolen ship was found abandoned in Woden orbit,� the sergeant said. �But��

�It�s of no concern,� Nyx said swiftly. He fixed Momus with a steely stare. �Trust me when I say that what you have seen here is for your eyes only. This is a delicate situation. We do not want our operation here and in Tau Ceti influenced by outside conjecture.�

�What operation? You said we were to destroy all��

�Shut up!� snapped Nyx.

Momus pretended he had not heard the blond officer�s slip and nodded sagely. �I saw nothing,� he confirmed. �No blood, no body, nothing.�

�I would hate to have to censor you by more permanent means,� added Nyx.

Momus gulped as the officer mimed cutting his throat. �I saw less than nothing,� he said hurriedly. �A black hole is a frigging supernova next to what I saw here.�

Nyx smiled. He made as if to turn away and then paused. �One last thing,� he said. �If you�re from the Dandridge Cole, are you one of those scummy, low-life refugees who have come to Newbrum and taken all our jobs?�

�You�re really enjoying this, aren�t you?� retorted Momus. �The answer is no.�

�In that case, I don�t want to talk to you anymore. Have a nice trip.�

�I�m free to go?�

�You�re a rubbish pilot,� Nyx told him. �But you�ll keep your mouth shut. If I was a betting man I would stake your life on that.�

Zotz soon discovered that while Ravana�s electric pet did not take well to zero gravity, its AI unit liked being controlled from afar even less. In the end he came up with a method whereby he would transmit a list of possible places to explore, safe in the knowledge that the cat would reject every single one and go somewhere else. It had somehow already left the Indra and despondently clung to a handrail in the passageway outside. Persuading the cat to jump to the floor and grip the steel mesh floor with its diamond-tipped claws was one thing. Getting it to go where he wanted was something else entirely.

Endymion�s hack however worked like a dream. The view through Zotz�s VR headset, as seen by the electric pet just a fraction of a second ago, was a cat�s-eye aspect of the flexible walkway that linked the docking pontoon to the huge mysterious cylinder. Ahead was an open hatchway, beyond which was darkness. He set the VR console to record, sent a message to the cat ordering it back to the Indra, then grinned as the pet promptly ignored the request and began to claw its way towards the hatch.

�Stupid Jones,� he murmured.

A faint growl came over the speakers. Zotz froze, then sighed with relief when he saw his microphone was switched to mute after all. An angry electric cat was not a pretty sight.

Something in the darkness ahead excited the cat and urged it to scramble forward. The view through Zotz�s VR headset changed from colour to monochrome in shades of green as the pet�s electric vision automatically switched from visible light to infra-red. Moments later, the cat clawed over the sill of the hatchway and was inside.

The steel lattice floor at the pet�s feet slowly resolved into a balcony looking out upon the curved walls of the cylindrical hull. Looming out of the gloom in the centre of the vast chamber was the large spherical casing of a nuclear fusion reactor, surrounded by a network of pipes and electrical systems. Everything in sight was caked in mould or fungus. Vine-like growths grew up every walkway, ladder and steel beam, all somewhat reminiscent of the tendrils infesting the cargo bay of the Platypus.

The cat clambered to the top of a flight of steps and peered down. Zotz gazed in awe at the chaotic mishmash of refuse, console parts and weird green globules drifting in zero gravity. Heavy equipment swayed at the end of cables fixed to the reactor. Twelve sinister vats gaped like giant glass seed pods, each standing firm before the reactor and evidently bolted to the floor. An uncontrollable shiver ran down Zotz�s spine.

�The cyberclones!� he murmured.

The huge silver cylinder lashed to Sky Cleaver�s docking pontoon was the missing engine room of the Dandridge Cole, ejected into space with Taranis and his newly-born creations inside. Zotz still had horrible dreams about his own role in the tense confrontation between Ravana, a double-crossing agent called Fenris and the mad priest himself. Fenris had been killed by the cyberclones and Taranis incapacitated after having his spider-walker chair sabotaged by the teeth and claws of a certain electric cat. Yet the eyes of the very same pet now revealed no trace of Taranis, Fenris or the dreadful clones, living or dead.

Zotz had long felt uneasy over his part in their fate. Now he was unsure which was the greater mystery: how the engine room came to be moored at Thunor, or where its reluctant occupants had gone. It was the latter that worried him most.

�Jones,� he murmured. �I think we�ve seen enough.�

He sent an order to return to the Indra. This time, the cat did not disobey.

The thought that there was a ship full of cannibals somewhere out in space did little to ease Momus� nerves as the Indra headed back to the Dandridge Cole. Refuelling the tanker had taken an agonisingly long time, during which he and a strangely subdued cat had kept themselves to the Indra�s flight deck with the airlock securely closed. The image left lodged in his brain by Nyx and his fellow officer turned every streak of rust on Sky Cleaver�s walls into a splash of blood, every creak of the superstructure into the scrape of a butcher�s knife and every touch of hydraulic hose into a brush of a discarded severed limb. He could see himself having nightmares for months to come.

Once clear of Thunor orbit, he recorded a holovid message to Quirinus and sent it on its way. A two-way conversation was impossible this far from the hollow moon, but despite his promise to Nyx not to say anything it felt good to burden someone with his experience. When Wak�s reply came a couple of hours later, interrupting his enjoyment of the fifties� clatterstomp blasting from the Indra�s cabin speakers, Momus was miffed to discover that the others on the Dandridge Cole already seemed to know about the salvaged engine unit and what it may have contained. Now he felt like a sacrificial lamb that against the odds had lived to bleat again.

The hours passed. Momus received a further communication from the Dandridge Cole, this time from Quirinus who was eager to bring his pilot-for-hire up to speed regarding the plan to take the Platypus to Falsafah. One thing Professor Wak, Quirinus and Zotz had not known before Momus� report was Nyx�s revelation that the Sky Cleaver deaths were somehow connected to an operation in the Tau Ceti system. In his earlier message, Wak had not mentioned Quirinus� own conversation with Administrator Verdandi, but now Momus heard the news he could see why Ravana�s father looked more worried than ever. The plan itself sounded preposterous.

�Mining boosters!� he mumbled. �First they send me off in a crappy tanker chasing cannibals and now they expect me to fly a frigging heap of fireworks!�

The electric cat, curled beneath the seatbelt of the co-pilot�s chair, looked up at him and yawned. Momus did not expect any sympathy from that quarter.

The final hurried repairs to the Platypus continued unabated even as the freighter began its ascent on the hangar�s elevator up into the main airlock. The fitting of the external boosters added a few hours to the AI unit�s original estimate, but now all Quirinus had left to do was link the firing circuits of the three rockets to the flight-deck console.

Momus had returned and overseen the transfer of hydrogen and helium-three from the Indra to the Dandridge Cole�s own tanks. Upon hearing that the automated systems at the cloud mine were operational, Wak sent the tanker straight back to Sky Cleaver on autopilot, for it would take several trips to replenish all the fuel lost. A nervous Momus made sure the tanker�s hatch was securely locked, fearful of what might hitch a lift back home.

Quirinus snapped the final connector into place and extracted himself from beneath the console. The flight deck of the Platypus still wore the blackened scars from the bomb blast but was otherwise clean, tidy and fully operational. After recalling the holovid image of Wak being half-strangled, he had not dared to even attempt the removal of tendrils, but the more obtrusive ones had been encouraged to hide out of sight.

The hangar elevator groaned to a halt. Quirinus heard the reassuring clunks as docking tethers and a refuelling gantry reached out and latched to the freighter�s hull, then again as the redundant undercarriage folded into the hull to leave the ship swaying gently in the zero-gravity wobble of the spinning asteroid.

The view through the flight-deck window was of the huge circular portal that led into the interior of the hollow moon itself. This had been opened just once since the Dandridge Cole left the Solar System more than a century ago; a spur-of-the-moment decision that had saved the crew from certain death wrecked inside an airless airlock, but which had ended with the stricken Platypus crashing into the artificial sun. Quirinus was still not sure whether to be grateful he had been unconscious at the time.

�Ship?� asked Quirinus. One curious development was that the AI unit no longer needed to be called via the customary switch. �Run pre-flight checks and prepare flight systems for a trip to Tau Ceti, coordinates to follow. Seal the cargo bay airlock, but leave the EV pod bay door open for now.�

�Confirmed,� replied the AI. �It is a pleasure to be back in service, Captain Quirinus.�

�Let�s hope so,� he muttered.

A murmur of voices wafted through the open floor hatch. Outside, Quirinus glimpsed the bobbing heads of Wak, Momus and Zotz near the beak-like nose of the ship. Sounds of scrabbling hands and feet were followed by Momus� inevitable grumbling as each in turn made their way through the tiny pod bay and up into the flight deck.

�My word!� exclaimed Wak, clambering from the hatch. �You don�t make things easy for your poor passengers, that�s for sure!�

�This is frigging madness,� Momus muttered.

Quirinus watched as Zotz scrambled in after him. Both carried luggage, which for Zotz included Ravana�s electric cat. Despite his grumbles, Momus went straight to the co-pilot�s seat, buckled himself in and scrutinised the controls. He may have been the only one with a valid licence, but knew better than to take the pilot�s chair himself.

�Have you decided to come with us?� Quirinus asked Zotz.

�Ravana is my friend,� he said quietly. �I want to help you find her.�

�There�s still lots to do here,� Wak suggested. �It feels like we�ve hardly spent any time together and already you�re rushing off on another adventure!�

�Momus said Taranis� horrible cyberclones might be at Tau Ceti,� said Zotz. �What if they�re on Falsafah? It was me who sent them into space and so it�s my fault they went mad and killed those people. If they find Ravana and hurt her that will be my fault too.�

�If anyone�s to blame it�s that damn priest,� Quirinus told him. �But this won�t be a comfortable trip. It�s two days to Falsafah and as the carousel isn�t working you�ll be eating and sleeping in zero gravity. It isn�t exactly the most welcoming of planets either.�

�I don�t mind staying,� Momus interjected. �I can feed the pigs and chickens.�

�Shut up!� retorted Quirinus. �You�re coming whether you like it or not.�

Zotz looked hesitant. Quirinus knew he was desperate to join the Platypus to Tau Ceti, but saw the boy�s loyalty was torn between his father and his friend.

�Zotz,� said Wak, quietly. �Go with Quirinus. You will always have family, but a good friend like Ravana is hard to find. We�ll have plenty of time for father-and-son stuff when you get back.�

Zotz grinned and darted into the crawl tunnel to stow his luggage in the hold. Momus opened his mouth to speak, caught Quirinus� glare and closed it again.

�In that case, shall we make a move?� suggested Quirinus. �Ship! How are you getting on with those pre-flight checks?�

�Life-support systems are running at maximum efficiency,� said the unruffled tones of the AI. �Fuel tanks are full and all flight systems are fully operational. The AI unit has had a nice rest and is looking forward to getting back to work. Forward visual scanner assembly and carousel drive unit remain inoperative.�

They heard a clunk as the refuelling gantry uncoupled from the Platypus and retreated into the hangar wall. Zotz reappeared on the flight deck, went straight to his father and gave him a hug. Wak looked embarrassed at the sudden show of affection.

�Right! Well, I�ll be off,� he said, moving towards the hatch. �Good luck and all that!�

�You too,� replied Quirinus. �I expect the sun to be shining when we return.�

�And keep a look out for space cannibals,� added Momus.

Wak did not seem to know how to respond to that, so settled for a final brief wave to Zotz and quickly left. Quirinus watched the professor exit the airlock chamber, then manoeuvred himself to the pilot�s seat and strapped himself in. The four flight-deck chairs were in a row facing the windscreen, with the middle two pilot chairs set forward within banks of flight controls. Quirinus settled into his familiar centre-starboard seat with a satisfied smile and looked to Momus and Zotz either side of him. As usual, Zotz was having problems with his seatbelt, but managed a grin in return.

�Ship, seal the pod bay door,� said Quirinus. He gave Zotz a wink. �Ready?�

�Flight systems on standby,� said the AI. �Please clarify your last command.�

�I wasn�t talking to you,� Quirinus said irritably.

�I�m ready,� replied Zotz.

�Whatever,� muttered Momus. �Ship, open the main airlock and cut us free.�

�Confirmed,� intoned the AI. �Please be gentle, Captain Momus.�

The console holovid screen showed the view from the rear of the spacecraft. Two-and-a-half pairs of eyes watched the airlock door open behind them, revealing the long tunnel to the outer airlock and deep space. The docking tethers released with a clunk.

�Do you want me to do this bit?� Momus asked Quirinus. �What with you having only one good eye, no bloody depth perception and all that.�

Quirinus scowled. �Don�t spoil my moment.�

He punched the control for the retro rockets. Caught off guard, Momus and Zotz lurched forward in their seats as the Platypus blasted backwards into the tunnel. Barely a minute later they were into the void and slipping smoothly away from the slot in the nose of the hollow moon. Quirinus ran his hands over the controls and in one fluid movement the ship swung upon its axis, corrected its spin and locked onto a course for the outer star system.

�That�s my girl,� he murmured and gave the console an affectionate pat.

Several hours passed. The Platypus accelerated onwards, eager to distance itself from the gravitational pull of the planets to safely leave the Barnard�s Star system. Finally, Momus received confirmation from Ascension space-traffic control that they were good to go. The extra-dimensional drive spun into life, blasted a membrane-bursting mortar at right angles to reality and in a stomach-churning, space-time-blurring blink of an eye they were suddenly a mere two hundred million kilometres from the star Tau Ceti, fifteen light years from home.

THE BLACK GRAVEL ROAD ran straight as an arrow across the bleak desert sands. Almost a whole Terran day had passed since Kedesh�s encounter with the police, since when the view unravelling before the transport�s windscreen had remained an endless strip of road through a sea of red dunes. Yet over the last few hours the distant backdrop of rugged peaks had grown ever more imposing, below which they saw the first glimpse of the squat cluster of buildings at the abandoned landing strip. Another long day on Falsafah was coming to an end and the dramatic pink sunset ahead, as the yellow orb of Tau Ceti sank inexorably below the distant mountains, was one of the most spectacular things Ravana had seen. Artorius, standing behind the cockpit seats, was less than impressed.

�Are we there yet?� he asked grumpily. �We�ve been driving for ages.�

�Use your eyes!� snapped Kedesh. Ravana suspected she was not used to having company when travelling, though Artorius was trying everyone�s patience. �We�ll be at the airstrip soon enough and from there it�s a short run to the station. Once we�re there we�ll be able to stock up on food and get some rest.�

�Rest?� asked Ravana, doubtfully. �I�d rather keep moving.�

She and Kedesh were taking it in turns to drive the transport. The vehicle theoretically could drive itself, but earlier Kedesh had demonstrated how the transport would slow to a crawl when using its automatic guidance system, for it did not get on well with Falsafah�s lone navigation satellite. Ravana was currently at the controls and had hoped Kedesh shared her desire to get to Arallu as soon as possible. She glanced at Kedesh beside her, then at Artorius and the dozing greys in the cabin behind. All looked weary and in need of a break.

�There�s no road beyond the depot and the mountain pass is not well mapped,� said Kedesh. �I for one would like to get a proper night�s sleep and maybe stretch my legs before second innings. The next few days will not be��

She stared at the scanner, her sentence unfinished, then frowned and started to tap at the external camera controls. Ravana looked at the console screen and immediately drew back the drive control lever to bring the transport to a halt. The visual display showed a flying-wing spacecraft, with distinctive engine nacelles unique to ships with vertical take-off and landing capability, parked on the runway at the airstrip complex ahead.

�Why have we stopped?� complained Artorius. His voice came unexpectedly loud in the tense silence, waking the greys from their slumber. �Are we there?�

�No,� murmured Ravana. �But someone is.�

�That�s a Que Qiao police cruiser,� Kedesh said wearily. �I checked the satellite scan earlier and Ininna�s and Yima�s ship was at the Dhusarians� airstrip, not here. When they went off in the other direction, they must have gone back to their ship and used it to get here ahead of us. We should never have let them leave before we did.�

�You wanted a cup of tea before going anywhere,� Ravana pointed out. �What now?�

�If they�re paying attention to their own scanner, they know we�re here,� Kedesh replied. �I guess they�re waiting for us to declare.�

Ravana looked questioningly at Kedesh. The woman brought up a map of the local terrain on the navigation console and began to study it carefully. Nana came next to Artorius and together they peered over Kedesh�s shoulder. Stripy stood behind them, the grey�s spindly fingers rubbing large tired eyes in a disturbingly human way.

�Thraak?� exclaimed Nana.

�Please don�t do that right in my ear,� grumbled Kedesh.

Ravana leaned towards the console and looked for where they were on the map. A few kilometres north of their present position, an area of close-knit contours showed a winding valley that ran parallel to the road from the airstrip to its attendant outpost in the north-west. As she looked through the windscreen to match their surroundings with what was on the map, she caught a flash of silver and for a split second saw an indistinct shape with two yellow eyes staring at her from on top of a nearby rock, then it was gone.

�Weird,� she muttered.

�What�s weird?� asked Kedesh. She spoke so sharply that Ravana wondered if she had seen the same thing.

�I thought I saw something out there,� Ravana said weakly. �But it can�t have been.�

�Can�t have been what?�

Ravana blushed. �It looked like a cat. A tabby, no less.�

Artorius snorted with derision. �Ravana�s gone mental!� he announced.

Kedesh gave her an odd look. �A cat, you say?�

�I must be imagining things,� said Ravana with a sigh. �I keep seeing these yellow eyes out in the desert. Perhaps I need to lie down for a while.�

�I�ll take over shortly,� Kedesh said gently. �What about the map?�

Ravana stared at the navigation console and tried to put all thoughts of a furry desert phantom from her mind. Using her finger, she drew the woman�s attention to the contoured region she had identified earlier.

�What about there?� she suggested. �The road we want goes along the top of that ridge. If you want to avoid that ship, we may be able to drive through the valley below. It looks quite deep, which may stop their scanner picking us up.�

�Hmm,� murmured Kedesh. �I wonder why that area is shaded grey?�

�Fwack fwack?�

�No, I don�t think it�s a secret village of aliens.�

�Maybe it�s a bad idea,� Ravana said hastily.

�I haven�t got a better one,� Kedesh admitted. �As you said, anything that may cause us to drop off their radar for a while is worth a try. We should make a move before they start to wonder why we�ve stopped. I�d like to get to the depot by nightfall.�

Ravana nodded. She urged the transport into motion and soon they had left the road behind and were bounding across the rock-strewn desert towards the parched rolling dunes. As she drove, she became aware of Kedesh�s stern glances and was left with the uncomfortable feeling she should have kept her weird visions to herself.

Agent Yima was bored. He wanted to fly straight to the Arallu Wastes to see what the archaeologists were up to, but his colleague Ininna was determined to keep an eye on Kedesh for a little while longer. Hence they were here, sat in their ship at an abandoned airstrip, watching the red blob on the scanner that was Kedesh�s transport as it sat unmoving on the road a few kilometres away. The cabin of the Alf-Sana Booma, the angular flying wing they used to flit around Falsafah, was cramped and in need of a good airing if they ever got back to Aram. Their own transport was secure in the cargo bay behind them.

�Is she still there?� asked Ininna, with barely a glance at the scanner.

Yima looked at the console. �No, she�s moving again,� he informed her. �North, into the hills. I would have gone south and followed the old coastal plain to the pass.�

�You�re assuming she�s alone. If she has taken on passengers as we suspect, she may be looking to top-up supplies.�

�Yes, but the only depot around here is� that place,� murmured Yima and shivered. �You wouldn�t get me near there, no matter how desperate.�

�That�s if she manages to avoid running into those things in the valley,� said Ininna and smiled. �Don�t look at me like that! You�ve heard the stories.�

Yima looked glum. �Do we stick around in case we�re wanted?�

Ininna shook her head. �We�ve warned her off enough times. We�ll come back in a day or so and see if there�s anything left to interrogate. If she does make it through the dunes in one piece, there�s more surprises waiting for her at the dome.�

Following Kedesh�s directions, Ravana drove north. The dunes became hills and soon the transport rolled through what may have once been a river valley, but which was now no more than a barren, dusty rift in the bleak landscape. The encroaching uplands soon blocked the dwindling light of dusk and by the time Ravana came to swap places with Kedesh they were using the transport�s headlamps to light the way. Artorius and Stripy were in the passenger compartment, keeping themselves amused with the slapping game, while Nana caught forty winks on a nearby bunk. After settling into the co-pilot�s chair, Ravana waited until the transport was under way once more before presenting Kedesh with a question that had been troubling her for a while.

�Who are you?� she asked. �Who are you working for?�

�Didn�t I say?� Kedesh�s look of innocence was not entirely convincing.

�No, you didn�t. You gave us some rubbish about being an eccentric adventurer with an odd interest in Taranis,� Ravana reminded her. �You have a transport but no ship, so how did you get here? Falsafah is not the sort of place where anyone can just drop by.�

�Who do you think I am?�

�A secret agent,� Ravana declared. �Working for Que Qiao. That�s why the police officer said something about it not being your jurisdiction.�

�You heard that from inside the washroom? Ininna does have a big mouth.�

�The corporation is doing horrible things on Yuanshi,� Ravana said bitterly. �It�s not just the war; myself and some friends broke into a secret plantation and saw the cruel things its scientists are doing to the greys. Every time I look at Nana and Stripy I�m reminded of that. It�s worse now I know how clever they are. And to cover it up people are made to believe greys are a myth, invented by the Dhusarians, or that they�re just the alien equivalent of monkeys or apes. Looking after these two has really opened my eyes.�

�You�re looking after them?� Kedesh raised a surprised eyebrow, as if to say she thought it was the other way around. �So if the corporation experimented on dumb animals, rather than clever aliens, that would be alright?�

�I�m saying that if you are with Que Qiao then I don�t want to know you.�

�Even after I gave you a lift? That�s a tad harsh.�

�Well?� asked Ravana. �Are you?�

�A spy?� Kedesh laughed. �No more than you, by the sound of it.�

�I am not a spy!� retorted Ravana, increasingly maddened that the woman seemed incapable of answering a straight question. �What brought you to Falsafah?�

�I could ask you the same question. You say you�re a student archaeologist, but doing digs on faraway planets is very much a hobby for the rich. Universities expect students to pay their way. You don�t strike me as being particularly wealthy.�

�A teacher helped me apply for a bursary,� explained Ravana, annoyed that Kedesh had changed the subject yet again. �Well, ex-teacher. The trauma of the flight back from the peace conference was too much for her and she�s taken extended leave to catch up on her Saint John Ambulance training, or something.�

�Fine body of people,� Kedesh said approvingly.

Ravana watched as the woman returned her attention to the way ahead, then sighed in exasperation when it became clear Kedesh was not about to say anything more.

�You�ve ducked my question yet again!� she complained.

Kedesh frowned. Frustrated, Ravana gave her a pleading look.

�As you say, I am on the trail of Taranis,� the woman said carefully. �Coincidentally, I too was recently out in the field on Yuanshi, trying to catch a bit of intelligence. I went undercover as a technical support officer at the royalist headquarters in Lanka. It was easy to eavesdrop on holovid conversations and it didn�t take me long to work out that Taranis was somewhere in the Barnard�s Star system. Shortly afterwards, the story broke of his and your own involvement in the peace conference plot and the trail went dead.�

�Just like Taranis himself,� said Ravana, though she did not sound sure.

�I�ll be happier when I�ve confirmed that for myself,� Kedesh remarked. �Last time he disappeared, he turned up at the Dhusarians� secret hideaway here on Falsafah, so I was sent to keep an eye on the ball. The arrival of those so-called monks knocked me for six.�

�So you are a spy,� remarked Ravana, but her thoughts were elsewhere. �Cyberclones can�t think very well for themselves and have to be told what to do. The two I saw have been given names from the Hindu zodiac, which sounds like something Taranis might do. But if he was alive and at their dome controlling them I think I�d know. This may sound silly, but the last time we met I could feel his anger through my implant. That of the clones, too.�

Kedesh looked intrigued. �You mean like telepathy?�

�Like in science-fiction stories?� Ravana managed a weak smile. �No, nothing like that. It was far more vague, as if I was sensing emotions rather than thoughts.�

�Cyberclones are part machine,� mused Kedesh. �They may give off signals or weird alien pheromones your implant can somehow detect. Speaking of implants, I�m stumped as to why Artorius has one. Didn�t he say he�s from Avalon? I though it was only the Que Qiao administration in Epsilon Eridani that allows childhood implantation.�

�Allows? Insists, more like,� Ravana retorted. �I did wonder whether Artorius is another victim of a fake destiny, in that Taranis planned to use him to make the Falsafah prophecy in the Isa-Sastra come true in a way he could control.�

�Although Artorius doesn�t have a special-forces implant like you do,� Kedesh pointed out. She smiled at Ravana�s startled expression. �Yes, I checked. Weirdly enough, he seems to sport an implant of the type the American government developed for their space exploration programme, not a Que Qiao one. Very odd.�

Ravana pursed her lip and fell silent. Back in Newbrum, a morbid fascination had led her to study implant technology. The discovery that the devices quickly became embedded, using nanotechnology to exude tiny filaments across a host�s brain, made her feel sick for weeks. She wondered if Kedesh�s own implant was anything out of the ordinary.

�Taranis had an implant,� she mused. �I think that�s how I could sense his presence, just like I could with the cyberclones. He was able to do things I didn�t think was possible. A friend of mine had a birdsuit with inbuilt artificial muscles and Taranis was able to take control of it and use it against him. It scared the life out of all of us!�

�You too have that power!� Kedesh remarked. She answered Ravana�s look of surprise with a wry grin. �Special-forces implants can use what they call �back doors� in AI chips, whether or not the chip has a proper implant interface or not.�

Ravana thought about this. �When I was on Yuanshi recently I found there were all sorts of locks and things I could operate, which others with standard implants couldn�t even see,� she said. �It was the same with the doors at the Dhusarians� dome. But those put proper images into my mind that I could mentally press, if you know what I mean.�

�It�s a little-known fact that almost all security devices made by Que Qiao have secret overrides that can be remotely operated by agents with special-forces implants,� said Kedesh. �But I�m talking about something quite different. There�s this chap on Avalon who was a Que Qiao agent before he double-crossed them and went on the run. He�s well known for bowling the odd googly during Gods of Avalon. He plays a blinder with his implant to take control of whatever he likes; props, robots, terraforming machines, anything. The authorities don�t have a chance of getting near him without risking a nasty incident live on holovid.�

�Was he the one who pretended to be wizard Merlin?� Artorius piped up. Kedesh glanced over her shoulder and smiled, unaware the boy had been listening.

Ravana frowned. �You�re both making this up.�

�Not at all!� said Kedesh. �Next time you�re on Avalon, ask around.�

Artorius went back to his slapping game with Stripy. Ravana thought about when she had used her implant in the rescue of her father from Sumitra Palace; breaching security had been a simple matter of pressing mental switches just as Kedesh described. However, the first time she had experienced the power of her implant had been before she even knew it was there. An accident left her dangling on a rope inside a sealed vertical shaft, but somehow she had been able to visualise a nearby airlock control and flex the image in her mind.

�I think I know what you mean,� she said slowly. �There was this time��

She tailed off, distracted by a flashing red symbol on the scanner console screen that faded almost as soon as it appeared. Startled, Ravana peered through the windscreen and to her surprise saw a windowless concrete bunker nestling in a crevice on the edge of the valley floor. The headlamps briefly raised a glint from the solar panel array upon the roof, then the bunker slipped past back into the gloom. The narrowing valley became a canyon. They passed close to a rocky outcrop and noticed for the first time how the cliff edges were covered in pale, wispy threads. Puzzled, Ravana looked ahead and stiffened as a dark shape scuttled across the ground ahead at the edge of their headlight beams.

�I don�t like the look of this,� muttered Kedesh. �I�ll try infra-red.�

She tapped at the console to change the scanner mode, reached to the holovid display and switched on the infra-red cameras. The screen lit up in a ghastly shade of green.

Ravana gasped in horror. The valley ahead crawled with huge, eight-legged creatures that were the stuff of nightmares. Infra-red revealed the glistening shine of bulbous carapaces, the glint of multiple eyes and stilt-like hairy legs of creatures that had no right standing as tall as they did. Below the holovid screen, the scanner in its new mode was suddenly alive with countless red blobs, all congregating upon the transport.

�Ashtapadas,� Ravana whispered. �Hundreds of them!�

Artorius and the greys came forward to look. Ravana almost jumped out of her skin when the boy promptly shrieked in her ear.

�Giant spiders!� he yelled, pointing. �They�re everywhere!�

�Thraak!�

�Fwack fwack!�

�Please!� shouted Kedesh. �Calm down, all of you!�

�How can they be here?� wailed Ravana, terrified. �The air�s poisonous!�

�But perfectly safe for cats with yellow eyes?� suggested Kedesh.

Ravana glared at her. Kedesh shoved the speed control lever forward and the transport leapt forward as if its tail was on fire. Ravana shrieked and fell back in her seat. Through the windows, the web-strewn walls of the canyon became a blur. A huge black shape, the size of a cow but with a confusing contortion of legs, suddenly loomed large in the headlamps. There was a thump and the transport battered the hideous creature aside.

�Is that your plan?� cried Ravana. �Ram our way out?�

�Do you have a better idea?�

�I�m frightened,� moaned Artorius. �I hate spiders.�

�Join the club,� muttered Ravana. She pulled Artorius onto her lap and held him tight, more for her own reassurance than the boy�s own.

�Atmospheric sensors show unusually high oxygen levels outside,� Kedesh remarked wryly, raising her voice above the harsh whine of the transport�s stressed engine. �We may have stumbled into some sort of genetic-engineering experiment. Or maybe they�re cyberclones or machines and not really alive at all.�

Ravana shrieked again. A spider with legs splayed a metre either side dropped from nowhere and splattered heavily across the transport�s windscreen. Artorius whimpered and clutched her ever tighter. The impact left the windscreen smeared with mangled spindly limbs, ragged chunks of spider carapace and blood.

�My mistake,� said Kedesh. She switched on the windscreen wipers. �They are real live creatures after all. Well, except that one.�

The windscreen cleared just in time for them to see another spider hit the side of the transport and spin away into the shadows. The canyon walls either side were thickly shrouded with webs, down which a torrent of black shapes cascaded to the valley floor. Two large spiders scuttled before them and were promptly crushed beneath the transport�s wheels, but as the vehicle bounced over the crumpled bodies there came an ominous thud, followed by a series of mechanical clunks. The powerful purr of the engine suddenly changed into a growl both coarse and laboured. The clanking became insistent and Ravana�s blood ran cold when she realised the transport was starting to slow down.

�This is not good,� Kedesh said. She had gone very pale.

�Make them go away!� cried Artorius.

�Fwack!�

�Thraak thraak!� added Nana.

�I�m sure we�re quite safe inside here,� Kedesh reassured them.

A spider, some three metres high, crashed down the valley wall in a flurry of legs. Before they could steer clear, the creature hit them squarely above the port-side front wheel with a force that made the transport lurch. Ravana screamed as a giant eye loomed large in the window to her left, then again when she saw the crack in the glass and the large dent in the panel below. A warning buzzer sounded and red lights on the console began to flash.

�We�re going to be battered to death!� cried Ravana.

�Unless the air poisons us first,� Kedesh said, speaking far too casually. She silenced the buzzer and stared hard at the console. �That last impact cracked the hull. Life-support is holding for now but we�re using up oxygen reserves fast. There should be an emergency sealant kit and masks in the locker at your feet.�

Ravana looked to where the woman pointed, yanked open the locker door and found a rack of survival masks with tiny oxygen cylinders attached. She quickly handed a mask each to Artorius, Kedesh and the greys, took one for herself and reached for what she thought was a sealant canister, only to find herself holding a stubby-barrelled plasma pistol. Ravana caught Kedesh�s frown and hurriedly returned the gun, found the canister and pointed the nozzle at the crack in the window at her side. A quick pull on the trigger resulted in a satisfying slurping noise and a sticky smear of sealant upon the crack.

�There�s another one!� shouted Artorius.

A huge spider scuttled along the valley floor beside them, easily matching their diminishing speed. Ravana shuddered, feeling nauseous at the dreadful sight of giant pincers below plate-sized eyes. Without warning, Kedesh stomped on the brake and the spider shot ahead. The woman shoved the speed control lever forward and rammed the transport into the spider�s bulbous abdomen, sending it spinning away into the shadows. Kedesh�s triumphant grin faltered the moment she saw the fresh crack in the windscreen.

�Thraak!� exclaimed Nana. �Thraak thraak!�

�We can�t go on like this,� said Ravana. Nana�s outburst�s were not helping. The translator had filled her head with a bizarre image of giant arachnids standing defiant over a line of chained slaves, both human and grey. �There�s too many! The scanner shows hundreds of the damn things, all coming for us!�

�You�re right,� said Kedesh. She slipped from her seat and let the transport roll on, only now there was no one at the controls. �Take the wheel.�

�What are you doing?� In a panic, Ravana reached across and grabbed the steering wheel just in time to avoid a large boulder. �We�ll crash!�

�Just drive the bloody thing! They�re not bowling me out in this innings.�

Startled, Ravana extracted herself from Artorius� clutches, dumped the sealant gun into his lap and slipped into the pilot�s seat. Kedesh hurried to the rear of the passenger compartment. When Ravana glanced around a few moments later, she saw her struggling into a survival suit whilst trying to pick up her helmet and open a storage locker all at the same time. There was a thud and another spider fell crushed beneath the wheels, rocking the transport and almost knocking the woman from her feet.

�Keep your eye on the game!� snapped Kedesh.

�Sorry,� muttered Ravana.

Kedesh finished fastening her suit and began strapping to her legs what Ravana was surprised to recognise as cricketing shin pads. The woman gave her a wink, slotted her helmet into place, then reached into the locker and picked up a well-worn cricket bat. Ravana stared in disbelief as Kedesh took a few practice swings with the bat before laying it aside. Returning to the locker, she withdrew a long black cylinder with brutal military overtones. Artorius� eyes widened when he saw the weapon in the woman�s hands.

�Fwack!� cried Stripy, impressed.

�Is that a plasma cannon?� Artorius asked in awe.

�It�s a portable recoilless electro-thermal accelerator,� said Kedesh. Her voice sounded muffled through the helmet and Ravana switched the suit�s intercom to the console speakers. �So yes, it�s a plasma cannon. Ravana, find a clear spot and stop. Stay at the controls until I get back. If I get back,� she murmured to herself.

�You�re going outside?� exclaimed Ravana, in disbelief.

�No, I�m wearing this suit as a fashion statement,� snapped Kedesh. �Ready?�

Trembling, Ravana nodded and brought the transport to a clanking halt. A cluster of dark long-limbed shapes quickly appeared at the limit of the headlamps and began to advance. Looking pale, Artorius huddled down in his seat and held the sealant canister out towards the windscreen as if it were super-strength bug spray.

�They�re coming!� called Ravana.

�Thraak?� asked Nana. Stripy cowered at Artorius� feet.

�I wasn�t talking to you,� Ravana said crossly. Her heart sank when she saw the empty cabin behind. Kedesh had slipped into the airlock without another word.

There was a sudden bang, followed by a terrible splintering noise as another spider appeared from nowhere and crashed into the cracked port-side window. The spider�s pincers tore a chunk out of the toughened glass, then a head and snapping mandibles broke through into the cockpit. Artorius leapt out of his seat in alarm.

�Thraak!� wailed Nana. �Thraak thraak!�

A foul yet familiar smell reached Ravana�s nose. Nana darted away in a mixture of embarrassment and fear, leaving Artorius sprawled upon the floor and frantically waving his oxygen mask in an ironic attempt to disperse the gust of alien flatulence. Amidst her panic, Ravana saw he had managed to keep hold of the sealant canister as he fell.

�Artorius!� she cried. The spider brought with it a blast of air from outside and the dizziness of carbon-dioxide poisoning hit her hard. �Use the sealant gun! Spray the window!�

The boy twisted onto his back, pointed the canister towards the writhing head of the spider and pulled the trigger. A jet of milky fluid erupted from the nozzle and caught the creature square in the mouth, instantly gumming its jaws together with a ball of sealant. The spider thrashed frantically against the broken window, in a manner that would have looked quite comical in different circumstances, then retreated through the hole in the glass. Artorius, his eyes closed in terror, kept his finger on the trigger and sealant sprayed erratically around the cabin. Ravana grabbed his arm and guided his aim towards the shattered window, waving his hand back and forth in a cross-hatch pattern. To her relief, the sticky threads of sealant latched to the glass and expanded to block the opening. The canister ran dry all too quickly, but the huge flat blob of sealant on the window had done its job.

Ravana felt the transport rock and tensed in anticipation of another impact, then heard the tap of human footsteps and creak of metal as Kedesh clambered onto the transport�s roof. Ravana�s immediate panic faded but did not go away, for still more spiders emerged from the shadows outside. She was not at all comforted by the thought that perhaps the creatures saw the unmoving transport as prey caught in a web, injured or wearied by the chase.

�Well done Artorius,� she said weakly, releasing his arm. Her heart pounded and she was having trouble breathing, for she had not managed to find her mask in time. She heard the comforting rattle of a compressor as the life-support system got to work restoring the air. The boy�s shrieks still echoed in her aching head. �Some excellent quick thinking there.�

�You scared me!� complained Artorius. A sheepish-looking Nana came out of hiding and crept back to join Stripy in the cockpit. �I thought the monster spider had grabbed me!�

Ravana heard Kedesh move again. She barely had time to wonder what the woman had planned when the grandfather of all nightmares stepped into the headlamp beams. Before them, blocking the valley, was an arachnid of truly mammoth proportions, standing high upon eight gnarled legs as thick as ancient tree trunks. The spider�s mandibles flexed like the claws of a salvage-yard crusher, above which a cluster of huge baleful eyes caught their headlights in a hideous kaleidoscope stare.

�Maharaja Ashtapada,� murmured Ravana. �That is what you call a demon king.�

Artorius screamed. �It�s come to eat us alive!�

�Fwack fwack fwack!� shrieked Stripy, seemingly in agreement.

The valley suddenly burned with a blinding white light. A spear of flame erupted from the roof of the transport and caught the monstrous spider in the centre of its snapping jaws. Ravana instinctively shielded their eyes and peered through her fingers in stunned amazement as another rush of fire lanced into the creature, then a third, leaving the monster writhed in flame. A dreadful piercing cry filled the web-strewn canyon, one that made Artorius and the greys to clamp a hand over their ears. Ravana jumped as another fiery burst swept across the ground in front of the transport, instantly reducing an advancing horde of lesser spiders to a series of charred, smoking mounds.

�It�s Kedesh!� Artorius cried jubilantly. �She�s blasting them to bits!�

The white lightning of the plasma cannon erupted again and soon there was little left alive in the valley before them. The scanner showed the remaining spiders in retreat, leaving a clear circle amidst the red blobs with the transport at the centre. Ravana reached for the console and activated the communicator.

�Kedesh!� she cried. �We should make a run for it while we can!�

�Just one more!� Kedesh replied. The plasma flame burst forth once again.

The sound of footsteps scrabbled across the roof, followed by a reassuring clunk and hiss as the outer door closed and the airlock began to fill. Ravana�s hand was already slotting the gear lever into �drive� and she did not wait for Kedesh to step out of the chamber before shoving the speed control lever forward. The transport clattered into life and was soon ploughing mercilessly though the dead and the dying, away through the valley. Kedesh stepped wearily into the cabin, her helmet and plasma cannon in her hands.

�Bit of a sticky wicket that one,� she said and collapsed onto a bunk. Her suit was splattered with blood and black slime. �I could murder a cup of tea.�

�You blew them up!� exclaimed Artorius. �Amazing!�

�Piece of cake,� Kedesh murmured. �Don�t touch that,� she warned, as Artorius slipped from his seat to look at the cannon at her side. �It gets incredibly hot.�

�Can I shoot some next time?�

�Next time?� muttered Ravana and shivered.

�You boys do like your big guns,� Kedesh observed. Ravana saw her looking at the congealed mass of sealant at the window. �I could have sworn one of the beasts was choking on a giant marshmallow. I take it you had to step up to the crease yourselves.�

�You seemed to have scared them off for now,� Ravana told her, glancing at the scanner screen. �The way ahead looks clear, though there�s a couple of kilometres to go before the valley flattens out enough for us to get back to the road.�

�Will they come back?� Artorius asked, sounding fearful.

�Let�s hope not. How far is the depot once we hit the road?�

�Five kilometres or so,� said Ravana. �The poor transport�s taken a battering, but has enough left in it to get us there within the hour.� The clunking from beneath had not gone away but did not seem to be getting any worse. She glanced over her shoulder to where Kedesh sat slumped upon the bunk. �That was very brave. You could have got killed.�

�Falsafah�s not a very friendly planet. Sometimes you have to stand your ground.�

�Thraak,� Nana said sadly. �Thraak thraak.�

�I agree,� said Kedesh. �Let�s hope there�s no more surprises like that one.�

High upon a nearby outcrop of rock, a small silver and black shape idly scratched an ear with a paw and watched the labouring transport trundle uneasily out of the valley. Events on Falsafah were unravelling somewhat differently to expectations, but when the players showed a bit of initiative it always made things more entertaining. In the end, the outcome mattered little, for it was all about the game.

The transport disappeared behind a dune. The watcher yawned, contemplated the slowly-thrashing tail wrapped around its feet, then in a flash of tabby fur was gone.

BELLONA LOWERED HERSELF into the offered couch and gave a nervous smile. This was the first time she had been invited to the private rooms at the church and did not know whether she ought to be honoured or terrified. The office at the back of the old bingo hall in Broad Street was well-appointed with patterned wallpaper, a large wall-mounted holovid screen and a suite of soft-sprung couches that must have been imported to Ascension at some expense, though the overall effect was tainted by a faint yet unpleasant coppery smell that lingered in the air. Yet even the surprise invitation and comfy furnishings paled into insignificance compared to what was on the table before her: a plate of chocolate biscuits, the first Bellona had seen in Newbrum for months.

In the chair opposite sat Selene, the girl from her class, who as usual was dressed entirely in black. She had fastened her purple tresses into an unfussy ponytail and dispensed with her customary floral crown, which she had earlier referred to as �ceremonial headgear�. Selene, with a cool and calm business-like attitude, had introduced herself as a junior member of the inner circle of the Dhusarian Church of Newbrum. The inner circle was interested in Bellona. No one had ever said that before.

�Would you like a biscuit?� asked Selene. There was a seductive tone to her voice; Bellona had heard gossip that the girl�s sultry and mysterious persona was a ploy to impress Captain Nyx, one of the Church�s rising stars. �Genuine chocolate, you know. The fellowship of the greys on Earth like to keep us supplied with innocent luxuries.�

Bellona smiled weakly and hesitantly took a biscuit from the plate.

Selene watched her carefully. �I expect you�re wondering why we asked you here.�

Her mouth full of biscuit, Bellona nodded. She wondered who Selene meant by �we�. The clocks of Newbrum had just gone nine o�clock in the morning and she had not seen another soul in the building since her arrival. There was a tradition that Dhusarians should gather as daylight faded and the stars began to appear, but the Church in Newbrum stuck to European Central Time, otherwise the slow rotation of Ascension would lead them to meet just once a week. Detractors on Earth believed the real reason for having evening services was because the average Dhusarian could not get out of bed in the morning.

�We were concerned by how rarely you accessed the Isa-Sastra on your slate,� Selene continued. �Others took this as evidence that your commitment was not true, but I told them you often read from an antique printed version of the sacred texts. I wondered if it was a family heirloom, that perhaps you had a past association with the Church?�

Bellona hesitated, startled that the inner circle was evidently monitoring what they read. She subconsciously touched a hand to her hip to feel the reassuring lump of the book in the pocket of her faded flight suit. Aware of Selene�s curious stare, Bellona slowly withdrew the paper-leafed book. The girl�s eyes widened at the sight of the volume with its worn grey cover, inscribed with the legend Isa-Sastra.

�It belonged to a man called Fenris,� Bellona said slowly. �I think he once worked for Taranis. His book came to me after he died.� She decided not to mention that she had more or less stolen the book from amongst Fenris� abandoned possessions.

�Priest Taranis!� Selene declared proudly. �Did you know him?�

Bellona shook her head. �He was��

�An inspiration to us all!� Selene declared. Her completion of the unfinished sentence was nothing like what Bellona intended to say. �The father of Dhusarism! He who led us from the shadows so that we may bask beneath the wisdom of the stars!�

�Some people blame Taranis for the civil war on Yuanshi,� Bellona said cautiously. Much of what she knew of the priest was from what she had heard both on and off the stage at the peace conference on Daode. �The Que Qiao governor called us a dangerous cult.�

�Here on Ascension, many in the corporation support our work,� Selene reassured her. �I heard you are friends with Ravana O�Brien, Zotz Wak and the others who were there when Taranis and his disciples were committed to the void. Is this true?�

Bellona frowned. Selene seemed to know a lot more about what happened than she did. At the time, despite the kidnapping scandal being big news, the footnote regarding their ill-fated encounter with Taranis on the Dandridge Cole had generated barely a flicker of interest. The local Dhusarian Church would have seen things differently, of course.

�I do know Ravana and Zotz,� she hesitantly replied. �They both played in the band at the peace conference last year. Ravana is here studying engineering and Zotz is in my class. Nearly everyone from the hollow moon lives in Newbrum now.�

Selene nodded thoughtfully and settled back into her seat. For a while no one spoke, then the girl leaned forward once more and gave Bellona a friendly smile.

�Ravana took something that did not belong to her,� she said. �Priest Taranis was the keeper of the book containing the first sacred texts. Ravana stole it from him and spirited it away for reasons we cannot imagine. We believe she brought it with her to Newbrum. We would like you to find out where it is; and if possible, get it back.�

�The Isa-Sastra?� Awestruck, Bellona recalled seeing Ravana with a large book at the end of their adventures, but its significance had been lost to her at the time. �The original?�

�As given to the prophet Betty Hill more than three hundred years ago.�

�Ravana is on Falsafah,� Bellona said, her voice trembling. �Zotz may know where it is. He�s gone back to the hollow moon to see his father. Shall I contact him?�

�Neither can be trusted. You need to be discrete with your enquiries.�

�You want me to spy on them?� asked Bellona, somewhat shocked.

�We just want you to play detective for a while,� Selene reassured her. �You�re only looking for a book. How hard can that be?�

Bellona looked doubtful. �I�ll try my best,� she said uncertainly. �My brother might know something. He and Zotz are friends.�

�Trust no one! These are difficult times for the Dhusarian Church.�

�They are?�

�Yet those who serve well will be rewarded,� Selene said. She picked up the plate of chocolate biscuits and offered them to Bellona. �Would you like another before you go?�

Ostara paused outside the Setco store, entranced by the wonderful smell of freshly-baked bread wafting from within. Her kitchen cupboards were bare and the lack of her morning toast and cup of tea had left her grouchy, but upon seeing the queue winding its way through the shop and out of the door she decided to leave her grocery shopping until later. A shop assistant was busy updating the product availability display in the window and Ostara sighed when she saw chocolate was once again �out of stock�.

She was conscious that she had yet to make a start on her investigation into the local Dhusarian Church, even more so that she had no other job offers as a distraction. Teiresias had sent her the cancelled BBC report as promised, but now she was in the embarrassing situation of not being able to afford a cheap holovid unit on which to view it. She had tried to watch it on her wristpad but the tiny screen made her eyes hurt. Hence she was now making her way to Endymion�s place of work at the spaceport, in the hope he could somehow magic up a solution in the same way he had managed to procure a desk, chair, filing cabinet and a rather nice bookcase for her Sherlock Holmes collection.

There was a microbus service along Corporation Street to the spaceport, but even if she had money for the fare Ostara preferred to walk. Upon crossing Paradise Circus, she spied Endymion�s sister Bellona scurrying a short distance ahead, who had just emerged from the Queensway section of Hockley Market on the left. Without thinking, Ostara quickened her pace and waved her empty shopping bag at the girl�s back.

�Bellona!� she called. �Wait for me!�

The girl turned, saw Ostara and promptly ran away towards the tunnel leading to the spaceport. Ostara muttered a curse and slowed to a more reasonable gait. Bellona was not usually prone to running from her like that. By the time Ostara reached the entrance of the short tunnel, the girl had reached the far side and disappeared from sight.

�Strange girl,� muttered Ostara.

She continued through the tunnel and into the crescent-shaped entrance hall of the spaceport dome. In front of the elevator doors on her left, at the foot of the stairs that curved to the main concourse above, an enterprising merchant had set up a fast-food stand wreathed in wonderful odours. To her right, on the other side of the road, was the spiral staircase that led down to Aston Pier. The road itself continued through another tunnel that ran beneath the skybus terminal and into the shuttle hangar on the far side of the dome.

The smell of fried food wafting from the stall made Ostara more hungry than ever. The elderly Asian man selling food smiled at her approach, but kept a wary eye on his surroundings and she wondered if he had set up his stand without permission. Right on cue, a security officer appeared on the concourse above, who upon seeing the stallholder gave a shout and hurried down the stairs.

The man�s smile faltered. With an apologetic grin, he ran his fingers across a switch panel on the side of the stand and promptly dashed away through the tunnel back into Newbrum. Startled, Ostara watched as the abandoned stall gave a series of clunks and folded in upon itself until it was no bigger than a large suitcase, before trundling off on tiny wheels to find a hiding place of its own. By the time the officer reached the bottom of the stairs, both the man and his stall of fried snacks had gone.

Ostara was in no mood to be interrogated by the local police. Crossing the road, she quickly descended the spiral stairs to Aston Pier before the officer decided that questioning her was a better prospect than trying to catch an errant fast-food stand. The smell of fried take-away food clung to her clothes and as her stomach began to rumble she caught another delicate whiff of cooking. This time it came from the bottom of the stairwell and she remembered that Aston Pier had a cafeteria for spaceport workers and flight crews. If Endymion was around, she hoped he was ready to buy her breakfast.

The short staircase led to a dimly-lit concrete tunnel that ran east below the spaceport dome towards the Tatrill Sea shoreline. Further along was the first of two dozen circular doors, each leading to a subterranean dwelling reserved for spaceport workers, pilots and crew. The tunnel ran for some distance, far beyond the dome and runway above, to eventually break through the cliffs and onto stout pylons above the choppy waters of Salford Bay. This last stretch of Aston Pier was a bright, airy space with walls of steel and glass that served as a passenger lounge for the flying boat service. Ostara thought it was a shame that spaceport workers were not allowed to enter the lounge when off duty, for the panorama of rocky coastline and crashing waves was not far short of spectacular. Nevertheless, the staff caf� at the end of the lodgings was close enough to the windows to get a reasonable view, albeit one constrained by the escalators leading to the passenger entrance above.

A few off-duty pilots sat at the tables outside the cafeteria. Ostara had no idea which of the circular doors concealed Endymion�s own room and did not feel brave enough to ask, so instead took a seat and contemplated the scene. The flying-boat lounge was on the other side of a floor-to-ceiling partition of one-way mirrors, a relic of when the caf� had been a security office and New Birmingham still harboured ambitions to be the bustling gateway to a brave new world. Today the lounge contained a mere handful of passengers, their complaints regarding broken-down escalators murmuring through the glass.

The grey domed top of the moored craft was visible through the far windows, bobbing upon the waters of the bay. Newbrum�s flying boats were rigid, delta-shaped airships some two hundred metres long that used hydrogen rather than helium for lift; hydrogen was already produced in vast quantities at Newbrum for spacecraft fuel and there was little danger of embarrassing explosions on a world with little oxygen in the air. The service connected the smaller settlements and research stations dotted around the Tatrill Sea coast. Ostara recalled the first time she had seen an airship glide gracefully home and how it left her with an urge to one day take a trip herself. It seemed such a quaint yet luxurious way to travel.

Her reverie was interrupted by the arrival of the caf� proprietor. He was a rotund middle-aged man with pasty skin, greasy black hair and an apron to match, who having served his patrons on the neighbouring table now approached with a menu in his hand. She recognised him as a fellow refugee from the Dandridge Cole but could not recall his name, so was a little embarrassed when he greeted her like an old friend.

�Ostara Lee!� he cried, speaking with a pronounced Italian lilt. �The great detective from our dear hollow moon! What would be your pleasure on this fine summer morning?�

�Is it summer?� she asked. �Or even morning? It�s hard to tell on this planet.�

�It is both in Naples,� he reassured her. �And that is where my heart will always be.�

He waited while Ostara cautiously perused the offered menu. The only thing she recognised were spanner crabs, primitive sea creatures native to the Tatrill that looked like rat-sized centipedes with claws at either end, albeit swathed in batter and pierced with a wooden skewer. She had never tasted one herself but had it on good authority that the lobster-like smell of a cooked specimen was sadly deceptive.

�The sign says �Fresh Fish Sold Here�,� she said, pointing to the wavering hologram outside the squat cabin. �That�s a silly thing to say.�

The man looked puzzled. �I don�t understand.�

�Well, I assume you�re not dealing in mouldy food,� she pointed out. �So it must be fresh. And it wouldn�t be much of a business if you gave it away, so it must be sold.�

�You want me to change it to �Fish Here�?� the man suggested.

Ostara shrugged. �Why say it is here? Where else would it be?�

�And I suppose it�s obvious that I am selling fish,� the man said cautiously. �Many a person has told me you can smell it from the other side of the dome.�

�That�s the most deceiving part of your sign,� she teased, adopting a mock scolding tone. �I�ve seen what swims in the Tatrill Sea and it�s nothing like any fish I remember from Earth. Is it all sea food? Inside the batter, I mean. I�m vegetarian.�

�I heartily recommend the aubergine cannelloni,� he said, with the air of someone relieved to be back on firmer ground. �Freshly made by my dear wife. My cousin works in the greenhouses,� he added slyly, as if to hint that the ingredients had bypassed the usual routes of commerce and surreptitiously arrived faster and fresher to his wife�s kitchen.

�That does sound nice,� she admitted. �Only I haven�t any credit. Is that a problem?�

The man�s face fell. Ostara�s hopeful expression followed suit, then became a cringe as her stomach rumbled again. Whatever was cooking in the cafeteria kitchen smelt delicious.

�My treat!� came a sudden voice from behind her.

Ostara twisted in her seat and smiled as a loose-limbed Endymion sauntered over to her table and dropped into a vacant seat. She was vaguely mystified by how he could look so fresh at this time in the morning, but he often did weird shifts at the spaceport and for all she knew this could be his lunch break.

�Endymion!� she greeted. �I was hoping to run into you.�

�So what will it be, my friends?� asked the man.

�Two veggie breakfasts,� declared Endymion. �Give us the works. I�m so hungry I could eat a scabby camel. Coffee for me, a pot of tea for Ostara. Is that okay?�

His last question was directed at Ostara, who nodded hungrily. The man gave a bow, relieved her of the menu and retreated to the caf�. Ostara grinned.

�How did you know I�d be here?� asked Endymion.

�Oh, I followed my nose,� she said airily. �You�re becoming a very confident young man, Endymion. Getting a place of your own has obviously done you a world of good. But there was no need to buy me breakfast, you know.�

�Yes there was. You have no food at your office,� he pointed out. �I noticed the empty cupboards when I tripped over the mattress in the kitchenette. Are you living there?�

�I have nowhere else to sleep,� she said defensively. �And it�s one way of getting to work on time. Thanks for bringing the furniture earlier, by the way. It is much appreciated.�

Endymion shrugged. �The guy who runs the baggage robots has a sideline in imports and exports, if you know what I mean.�

�Black market?�

�Amongst other things. A lot of it is second-hand goods he picks up cheap and stores until he finds a buyer,� he said. �He bought the spaceport�s old runway-laying rig and sold it for ten times the price to some desperate idiot in the Tau Ceti system. Funnily enough, Philyra contacted me earlier, asking about him. Do you remember Philyra?�

�Talks too much and obsessed with Gods of Avalon and other rubbish?� asked Ostara. �Yes, I remember Philyra. I always thought you had a crush on her.�

�What makes you say that?� asked Endymion, feigning surprise.

Ostara�s mind was elsewhere and she did not see him blush. �Can this friend of yours get me a cheap holovid unit?� she asked. Endymion�s indignant expression settled into a puzzled frown. �There�s this BBC report on the Dhusarian Church I�d like to watch.�

�Can�t you use your slate?�

�I don�t have it anymore. If you�re thinking of the one I gained whilst hobnobbing with the rebels on Yuanshi, I gave it to Ravana for her university work.�

Endymion did not reply. Ostara saw he had been distracted and followed his gaze to a distant figure loitering suspiciously outside one of the lodgings. With a curse, he was abruptly on his feet and running towards the now-open door. Ostara caught a glimpse of a familiar face as the figure slipped furtively into the cabin. Leaving her seat, she hurriedly followed.

�Bellona?� she murmured.

By the time Ostara reached the open door, Endymion had cornered his sister and was holding Bellona down by twisting the girl�s arm behind her back, forcing her to sit rigid upon one of the room�s narrow bunks. Bellona refused to meet her brother�s stare and looked sulky yet defiant. The room was barely the size of Ostara�s office, but somehow managed to contain three beds, a tatty wardrobe and a tiny wall-mounted holovid unit. Ostara looked at the jumble of clothes, empty food cartons and other miscellaneous objects scattered across the floor and turned to Endymion in alarm.

�Has this place been burgled?�

�Not yet,� retorted Endymion. �But it was about to be.�

�I haven�t done anything!� cried Bellona.

�It looks like it has been ransacked,� Ostara said, sounding uncertain, then with a start realised the cabin was the one Quirinus shared with Ravana and Zotz. �It just goes to show it was Ravana who kept the place tidy,� she mused. She felt sorry for any girl who had to share such an incredibly small space with two boys.

�Endymion�s room is worse than this, the messy pig,� Bellona muttered.

�Oh, have you burgled my place as well?�

�No, I haven�t!�

�So what are you doing here?� he asked angrily. When Bellona did not reply, he tightened his grip upon her arm, causing her to wince.

�Endymion!� scolded Ostara. �Let go of your sister! You�re hurting her!�

Endymion mumbled something under his breath and released Bellona�s arm. With a glare, she immediately shuffled away to the end of the bed, keeping her arms firmly crossed. Ostara had never seen the two of them squabble like this before, but remembered all too well how her own elder brothers had bullied her when she was young. Endymion retreated to the doorway, leaned against the open door and gave his sister a questioning glare. Bellona dropped her gaze to the floor and sighed.

�Ravana stole a book,� she said at last. �I was sent to find it and bring it back.�

Ostara�s eyes narrowed. �What book?�

�The one she took from Taranis.� Bellona�s expression suggested she had decided that honesty, if not the best policy, was easier than inventing a convincing lie. �The Isa-Sastra.�

�The Book of the Greys?� Endymion frowned. �Who sent you?�

�Shouldn�t I be asking the questions?� asked Ostara. �I am the detective here.�

Endymion gave a dismissive wave of his hand. �Be my guest.�

Ostara looked at Bellona, who tried not to smirk. Ostara�s distracting performance as the Dandridge Cole�s security officer during their last adventure had been somewhat erratic.

�Well?� the woman demanded. �Who sent you? People from your church?�

�A girl named Selene,� Bellona confirmed. �She said I would be rewarded.�

�That�s nice for you,� muttered Endymion.

�I�d forgotten about that book.� Ostara looked thoughtful. �Is it valuable?�

�Maybe,� Bellona said warily.

�Well, Ravana doesn�t have it anymore,� retorted Endymion. �Verdandi ordered it to be confiscated as evidence when there was talk of an investigation into your crackpot church. I have no idea where it is now.�

Bellona glared and stuck her tongue out at him, but otherwise looked downcast.

�You seem remarkably well-informed on the subject,� observed Ostara.

�I helped Ravana make a copy before she�� Endymion started, then bit his lip.

�There�s a copy?� exclaimed Bellona, brightening.

Endymion quickly shook his head and turned to avoid her excited stare.

�Where is it?� asked Bellona. �I know! I bet you used the scanners at school.�

�No, I didn�t!�

�A copy?� asked Ostara. �Why would she want that old thing?�

�Ravana probably has it on her slate,� reasoned Bellona. �But you hide all your programming stuff on the servermoon! I bet you kept a backup file!�

�Lies!� cried Endymion, but his guilty expression gave him away.

�Your secret is safe with me,� Bellona said solemnly.

�Drat,� muttered Endymion. �Anyway, you�re the one who broke into Quirinus� cabin. I could report you to spaceport security!�

�And say what? That you caught me looking for stolen church property, which you had secretly copied using school equipment and dodgy hackware?�

�I helped raise the funds to buy that equipment!� argued Endymion.

�You set up an illegal holobooth scam,� Bellona reminded him. �You rigged the school�s network so any telesales AIs that called would be put through to a premium-rate answering service.�

Endymion scowled. Ostara grinned, having heard the story before from Ravana. He had been severely reprimanded at the time, but the school head later confessed to not being sure whether to expel him or award him an honorary degree in business studies. Bellona slid from the bunk without another word and with one last glare pushed her way past her brother, slipped through the doorway and was gone. Endymion watched her go and sighed.

�I told you that church was a bad influence,� he grumbled.

�Is that book important?� Ostara moved to the door to see where Bellona had gone, but was distracted by the sight of the caf� owner walking towards their table with their order. She blushed as her stomach rumbled again.

�Maybe,� Endymion said thoughtfully. He glanced towards the holovid unit on the wall. �There might be something about it in that BBC report you mentioned.�

Ostara looked hungrily towards the food awaiting them at the table.

�It can wait,� she said. �Detective work is no fun on an empty stomach.�

Fornax arranged to meet Philyra at noon, but it was a good ten minutes past the hour before the young girl finally arrived. The section of Hockley Market between Queensway and the dome wall was a hive of activity and possibly the most dirty, noisy and frantic place in Newbrum, with an incredible array of goods constantly being shunted between vehicles, storage sheds, shops and stalls. Many of the male workers nevertheless still found time to stand and leer as she stood at the roadside, feeling lost and alone. When Philyra finally appeared, fiddling with her wristpad as she walked, Fornax almost hugged her in relief. She was touched to see the girl wearing a similar tunic and leggings outfit to herself, even down to styling her hair the same way. Fornax smiled, pleased that she had made a lasting impression upon her young apprentice reporter.

Philyra looked up from the screen of her wristpad and gave her a critical look. �You shouldn�t try to copy my style,� she complained, instantly dampening the woman�s revived spirits. �It doesn�t look right on you at all.�

Fornax gave Philyra a suitably withering smile. �What are you watching?� she asked. The girl�s wristpad screen was alive with flickering holovid images.

�Gods of Avalon,� she replied and lowered her wrist. �The contestants get dumber by the week. Some guy fell off a rope bridge into a river, tried to fight off robot piranhas with an electric lance and electrocuted himself.�

�Charming,� muttered Fornax, who was not a fan of the show. �Couldn�t we have met somewhere else?� she asked and winced as a nearby stack of crates toppled and crashed to the floor. �As in anywhere else but here? This place is giving me a headache.�

�You wanted to know about black market stuff,� Philyra said. �I asked Endymion and he told me about this guy at the spaceport who does a bit of trading on the side. He wouldn�t give me the man�s name but did tell me where to find him.�

�Sounds promising,� said Fornax. �Where do we find this mysterious stranger?�

Philyra pointed to a nearby shop, which had a large sign above the grime-covered window inscribed with the legend: �OUTER LIMITS EMPORIUM�. As if to confirm the shop�s dubious credentials, the nearby street security cameras had at some point been a victim of targeted arson and were now not much more than congealed lumps of metal and plastic.

As Fornax and Philyra approached the door, they were surprised by the appearance of Ostara and Endymion, who had chosen that moment to exit the very same shop. Endymion, who carried a small and new-looking holovid unit of a design not usually seen in Newbrum, greeted them with his usual easy-going grin. Ostara glared at Fornax as if the reporter had just kicked a lame puppy across the street.

�Who do we have here?� sneered Fornax. �The great detective, no less!�

�Still looking for your scoop?� Ostara asked, mirroring her mocking tone.

�Are you still totally clueless?� retorted the reporter.

Endymion rolled his eyes and gave Ostara an impatient nudge with the holovid unit in his hands. Ostara shot Fornax a final wounded look and led Endymion away through the bustling market and out of sight. Fornax scowled, then glanced across to Philyra, who stood with hands on hips and a look of weary irritation upon her face.

�Coming?� asked Philyra.

The inside of the shop was exactly what Fornax expected. Almost every square centimetre of floor space was taken up by a bizarre mix of cheap furniture, obsolete electrical equipment, dusty storage boxes and a dormant electric sheep. A couple of clothes racks displayed a shabby collection of out-of-date fashions in the far corner.

A narrow walkway wound through erratic stacks of merchandise to a small serving counter towards the back. There was a rail hanging at head height above the counter, upon which Fornax was bemused to see a ragged green parrot stalking up and down, eyeing them with interest. It looked like it had been in a fight with an electric fan and in places the feathers had fallen away to reveal the tarnished robot skeleton beneath. The proprietor was nowhere in sight, but faint sounds of activity and recorded music could be heard from a nearby half-open door. The ceiling light panels were off and the red daylight spilling through the door and dust-smeared window did little to dispel the gloom.

�This place is a tip,� remarked Fornax. �Look at this stuff! What use is it to anyone?�

�We use what we can get,� Philyra said indignantly. �Most of us can�t afford to import fancy new things from Earth or wherever. We don�t have the big robot factories that make all the nice stuff you�re obviously so used to.�

�But look at it! Voice-activated sofas are so twenty-second century.�

Philyra looked at her in scorn. Fornax smiled, glanced towards the door at the back of the shop, then walked to the counter and began to examine the odd bits of rock displayed on a tray. The electric parrot shuffled along its perch and fixed her with a beady-eyed stare.

�Hey, mister parrot,� greeted Fornax. She plucked a lump of rock from the tray and examined it closely in an attempt to avoid the bird�s piercing gaze. �Are these fossils?�

The parrot cocked its head to one side and gave a metallic squawk.

�For sale!� it declared. �One credit!�

Philyra came to join Fornax and picked up another piece of rock. The dark-coloured sample contained an unmistakeable yet unidentifiable fragment of some long-dead creature. Fossils were rarely found on Ascension, but that was largely because geologists generally thought there were far more interesting planets to explore. Fornax knew little of the bleak landscape outside the dome but there was something about the colouring of these particular rocks that to her suggested they had come from a lot further afield.

�I�m guessing these aren�t local,� she remarked. �Where were they dug up?�

�Imported especially for you from Tau Ceti,� the parrot declared. �Genuine alien artefacts! Bones of the mysterious greys. One credit!�

�One credit for an authentic alien fossil?� Fornax frowned, disappointed that these particular alien artefacts were not what she expected. Now she thought about it, she was not sure what she had hoped to find.

�How much for a pencil?� asked Philyra. She had quickly become bored with looking at lumps of rock and had found a pot of archaic writing implements on a nearby desk.

�One credit!�

Fornax held up a fossil. �Are these from Falsafah?�

�One credit for a pencil?� Philyra laughed. �I could buy a laser stylus for that.�

�Alien artefact, one credit!� the parrot confirmed. �Pencil, one credit!�

�So a lump of rock, painstakingly identified and carefully extracted as an important extra-terrestrial relic,� said Fornax, �no doubt by a skilled archaeologist working under very trying conditions, then flown fifteen light years across the galaxy to this very shop, is deemed comparable in value to a wooden writing stick?�

The parrot paused, as if to consider the logic of her question. �One credit!�

�They must be really good pencils,� muttered Philyra.

�Is the owner of the shop here?� asked Fornax, impatiently.

The parrot did not reply. Fornax became aware of a sudden silence beyond the door to whatever lay at the rear of the emporium and began to suspect it was no coincidence they had found no one here. The reporter was a stranger in town, which would immediately ring alarm bells for anyone who thought nothing of sabotaging security cameras. She realised then that her direct approach had been wrong.

With a sigh, she glanced down at the display of fossils, looking for inspiration. It was then she saw that the tray was actually the lid of a storage box, of a similar size and shape to the smaller shipping containers used for interplanetary cargo. After glancing at both doors to make sure they were not about to be disturbed, she lifted the tray and peered beneath to see if there were any markings on what would be the top of the box lid, taking care not to spill its contents. Fornax smiled and lowered the tray back onto the counter.

�We should go,� she declared. �There�s nothing to see here.�

�Genuine alien artefacts!� the parrot protested. �One credit!�

�No thanks,� said Fornax. �These are not the finds I am looking for.�

Philyra looked puzzled by the odd tone to her voice. Fornax gave a cryptic smile, turned from the counter and walked briskly to the door. The reporter could almost hear the sigh of relief from whoever it was hiding in the room beyond.

�What now?� asked Philyra, as they stepped back out onto the street.

�The spaceport,� declared Fornax. �We have a ship to find.�

Bellona sat quietly in Circle Park, resting upon the soft grass with her back against the trunk of an anaemic conifer, her slate on her lap. As expected, Endymion had added untold layers of encryption to his personal network account and she was unable to confirm her assertion that he had a secret copy of Taranis� Isa-Sastra, but figured Nyx could use his influence as a police officer to locate it easily enough. She had sent a message to Selene with her news, who had replied to say she would meet Bellona at the park.

Selene�s earlier hint about a possible reward had encouraged Bellona to think about studying the Isa-Sastra properly, in case the inner circle decided to throw a few questions her way to test her faith. In Bellona�s hand was the old grey book, Fenris� copy of the Dhusarian texts, while on the slate screen before her now was the same book as given to her when she joined the Newbrum church. Except it was not the same.

Fenris had underlined many sections in his paper copy of the book. As she flicked through the densely-printed pages, Bellona was startled to find marked in this way a passage regarding Maharaja Ravana of Yuanshi, the reborn demon king of Lanka. Intrigued, she read with fascination the prophecy of a warrior boy king, destined to unite the people of Lanka and Ayodhya under one rule and free the moon of Yuanshi from its oppressors. She found it hard to reconcile this tale with the Ravana she knew, the shy Indian girl with the scarred face, who had sided with Raja Surya at the peace conference. Yet what disturbed her more was that the story was missing from the Isa-Sastra given to her by the Newbrum church. It did not seem right to Bellona that holy texts could be edited in this way, for part of her felt that no one had a right to tell her how to shape her own beliefs.

Bellona read the passage again, this time looking for clues that it was indeed about the Ravana she knew, but found nothing other than that her Isa-Sastra namesake shared the same birthplace of Lanka. She dimly recalled talk of a prophecy after Ravana and the others returned from their confrontation with Taranis on the Dandridge Cole, but she had been busy nursing the wounded Quirinus and had not paid much attention. Bellona thought it odd that anyone still believed in such things as prophecies, yet could see why Ravana O�Brien may have been intrigued enough to relieve Taranis of the original texts.

A shadow fell across her slate and she looked up to see that Selene had arrived, dressed as always in her customary black. Bellona was surprised to see Nyx coming up behind, wearing his police uniform and looking irritable and weary, though it was hard to be sure as his eyes were masked by his visor. Selene seemed a little annoyed by Nyx�s presence but nonetheless greeted Bellona with a pleasant smile.

�Hello Bellona,� she said. �You have some news for me?�

�Will this take long?� snapped Nyx, frowning. �I�ve just got back from mopping up the mess at Thunor and I need to get some sleep before tonight�s service. We must also attend to the funeral arrangements for our departed Dhusarian Brother.�

�I didn�t ask you to come,� hissed Selene. �I can handle this!�

Nyx removed his visor, gave her a scathing look and impolitely pushed her aside.

�Well?� he asked, staring at Bellona. �Did you get the book from the Indian girl?�

�My brother said it�s been confiscated by Administrator Verdandi,� Bellona said, stammering slightly. She did not like the way he towered over her and climbed to her feet. Her answer had not pleased the police officer one bit. �But Ravana made a copy at school,� she added quickly. �It should be on the network somewhere.�

�A copy?� Nyx growled. �The sly little bitch!�

�Nyx!� exclaimed Selene, clearly shocked by his reaction.

�The thieving cow! How dare she mistreat the sacred texts!�

�You forget you are talking about one of Bellona�s friends,� murmured Selene warily. �Besides, this is good news. If we can�t get the original texts from Verdandi, the copy may be sufficient for what the brothers need on Falsafah.�

�What that dreadful girl and her friends did was unforgivable!� Nyx retorted. �They committed Taranis and the twelve to a lingering death. What happened on Sky Cleaver was a direct consequence of their meddling!�

Bellona watched as Selene shot him a warning look. The grisly rumours regarding the fate of the cloud-mining crew were the talk of Newbrum, but Bellona could not imagine how that was linked to what had happened on the Dandridge Cole all those months before. It was the way Nyx spoke of Ravana that troubled her most.

�Ravana is named in the Isa-Sastra,� Bellona said cautiously, wondering how much Nyx knew. �How can you say such horrible things like that?�

Selene looked surprised. �Is she?�

�Take no notice,� Nyx said. �The Church of Ascension does not recognise the Book of New Prophecies. You should not waste your time studying discredited texts.�

�There�s other texts? Since when?� asked Selene. Bellona caught her glance, which suggested that like her, Selene too was disturbed by the thought that the Isa-Sastra was not the immutable theological rock they assumed the church had been built upon. �Are there any more prophecies we should know about?�

Nyx glared at her. �Right now, Falsafah is the only one that matters.�

Endymion went back to work after accompanying Ostara and her new holovid unit to her Sherlock Street office. She quickly became engrossed in the unedited BBC report and was still sat in front of the screen when he returned at the end of his shift some hours later. She had been busy in his absence and one entire wall of her office was now covered in sticky-taped scraps of paper, upon which she had scribbled various words and phrases. There were more scrawled notes on her desk and the floor.

�The BBC had a really neat screen that filled a whole wall,� Ostara explained, seeing Endymion�s bemused expression. �This is the penniless detective�s version.�

Endymion read a few of the notes and smiled. �Anything useful in that report?�

Ostara shrugged. �The Dhusarian Church of Ascension is quite tame compared to that of Yuanshi,� she said. �In Lanka, it was very much part of the rebellion against Que Qiao. The report says its swirly star symbol is banned on Yuanshi, which explains why I don�t remember seeing it. Here in Newbrum, the Church is seen as just another bizarre yet harmless cult. They even have Que Qiao employees in the congregation.�

Endymion�s eyes narrowed. �I thought the corporation was against membership.�

�That might have changed,� said Ostara. �One of the Dhusarians interviewed for the report was a police officer called Captain Nyx. He�s the arrogant swine who gave me such a hard time at my interview. The law enforcement contract in the Barnard�s Star system is held by IATL, which was taken over by the Que Qiao Corporation three years ago.�

�How do you know all that?�

�The public network portal for Newbrum police makes no secret of it. What scares me is Nyx has political ambitions; there�s a rumour he�s to run for the new Administrator post at Lan-Tlanto at the next elections,� she said, referring to the independent spaceport on the far side of Ascension. �The authorities want to bring a bit of law and order to the place.�

She idly shuffled the pieces of paper on her desk, awaiting Endymion�s response. Her eyes remained upon him as he moved to stare out of the window.

�What�s your next move, detective?� he asked eventually.

�I know you�re worried about Bellona,� she said. �To be honest, the church looks pretty harmless to me. I�d really like to see one of their services, but if Nyx or your sister catches sight of me they�re bound to get suspicious. Do you know that building at all?� she asked, after some hesitation. �I was wondering if there was a way I could sneak in.�

Endymion turned back and went to shake his head, then paused. His gaze had fallen upon her framed Private Investigator Licence hanging on the wall.

�There is a way,� he said and smiled. �With overalls, hard hats and a tent.�

Fornax strode across the hangar towards the berthed spacecraft and tried her best to look confident. Her luggage, trundling patiently in her wake, carried a few changes of clothes and the last of her Pinot Noir. Hidden in a secret compartment was her prized cambot, a rotor-driven miniature flying camera.

After their initial reconnaissance she had sent Philyra home, for what she was about to attempt was foolish in the extreme. Nevertheless, Fornax missed her company, for the young girl had local knowledge of which automatic doors were faulty, which escalators did not work and which of the annoying advertising holograms were the most persistent. Fornax was all too aware that her clumsy progress around the spaceport dome had been noticed.

The spacecraft before her was the Atterberg Epiphany, the name of which she had seen printed upon the box lid that served as a sample tray at the Outer Limits Emporium. The ship was a Taotie-class angular flying-wing, with a large rear-loading cargo bay designed to hold a six-wheeled ground transport. Fornax recognised the type of spacecraft as that used by Que Qiao as a multi-purpose personnel carrier on airless worlds, but the markings upon this particular ship�s dull black fuselage identified it as a privately-owned vessel.

Compared to somewhere like Los Angeles Galactic, security at Newbrum spaceport was laughable. Fornax used her charms upon an unsuspecting male spaceport worker, who revealed the Atterberg Epiphany was a recent acquisition of the Dhusarian Church of Yuanshi. Her enquiries also brought the intriguing news that the ship, having flown in from Lanka on Yuanshi, was due to depart for Falsafah within the next few hours.

The mysterious hooded figures who flew in on the ship had unnerved a great many people at the spaceport, though no one could satisfactorily explain why. The young Indian woman guarding the spacecraft�s open hatch was no more welcoming. She wore a black flight suit, a pair of mirror sunglasses and a scowl that deepened as Fornax approached.

�Can I help you?� she snapped.

�I do hope so,� Fornax said gaily. �The church asked me to accompany you so that I can join our comrades on Falsafah. We have important work to do, kid.�

�Comrades?�

�Brothers,� Fornax hastily corrected. �Sisters?� she suggested, seeing the woman�s suspicious stare. Her bluff was not going well.

�Sorry I�m late!� came a voice from behind.

Fornax turned and to her dismay saw Philyra trotting across the hangar, though for a moment struggled to recognise her, for the girl�s dark locks were now dyed a vivid purple. A bag hung from the shoulder of her tightly-belted flight suit. Philyra had gone overboard on make-up in an attempt to look older than fifteen, albeit with limited success.

�What are you doing here?� hissed Fornax. �And what�s with the hair?�

�Who are you?� asked the woman. �This is a restricted area!�

�I�m Sister Selene from Newbrum Church,� said Philyra and held out her hand. �I see you�ve already met Sister Gabriel, who�s visiting us from the United States.�

Fornax caught on quickly. She gave the Indian woman a suitably haughty expression and was most annoyed when it was ignored. The woman looked at Philyra�s offered hand as if debating whether the girl�s wristpad was worth stealing.

�That�s right!� Fornax declared defiantly. �I am Sister, err� Gabriel, sent from the Dhusarian Church of California with special instructions to report back on our operations on Falsafah. These are interesting times, do you not agree?�

The woman was not convinced. �Stay there while I check,� she said coldly.

She took a few steps back, tapped the screen of her own wristpad and entered into an urgent hushed conversation. Fornax pulled Philyra aside and shook her head in irritation.

�I told you to go home,� she murmured. �This is too risky for you to be involved!�

�My mum said it�s okay for me to come with you,� Philyra whispered in return. Fornax frowned and wondered whether the girl had mentioned to her parents that being the reporter�s assistant might involve a trip to Tau Ceti. �You need me! My friend Bellona told me all about her weird Dhusarian friends and I can help us get on that ship.�

�You�re mad,� Fornax told her.

The woman finished her wristpad conversation and noisily cleared her throat to attract their attention. She wore the disappointed look of an arsonist who had applied for a job in the fire brigade without checking to see what it actually involved.

�We have never heard of a Sister Gabriel,� the woman said slowly, eyeing Fornax carefully, then shifted her stare to Philyra. �But they described Selene to me and it seems to be you. We�ve received the holovid file of some book you asked us to take to Falsafah. They didn�t say you were to deliver it personally.�

�Change of plan,� Philyra said swiftly. Fornax saw her expression and guessed the girl had struck lucky with her chosen disguise. She wondered whether to panic at the thought of being asked about a book of which she had no knowledge. �I met Forn� err, Sister Gabriel at the spaceport and so decided to accompany her to Tau Ceti. She�s just arrived and hasn�t had time to report to the Church, you see. I thought I�d brief her during the flight.�

�That�s very good,� murmured Fornax, impressed.

The woman gave them one last stare, then with a shrug of her shoulders stepped aside and waved towards the door of the waiting spacecraft.

�Welcome aboard,� she said. �We depart for Falsafah in one hour.�

Ostara peered from the tent at the street outside. Behind her, Endymion had managed to lift the heavy concrete lid in the road and stared cautiously into the chamber below. Ostara felt foolish enough to be wearing tatty overalls and a bright yellow hard hat, hiding in a square orange tent in the middle of Broad Street whilst she and Endymion pretended to be engineers, but now they had a new worry to contend with. She darted back inside.

�Nyx!� she hissed. �He�s coming over!�

�I don�t think he knows me,� said Endymion. �You hide in the tunnel.�

Ostara gave the newly-exposed hole a wary look. �Down there?�

�Yes! And be quiet!�

She dropped to the floor, swung her legs into the opening and shimmied down the ladder into the shadows. Moments later, the tent flap was pulled aside by a policeman�s half-clenched hand and a shaft of red daylight dispelled the gloom. Ostara caught a glimpse of the newcomer�s face and shivered. Nyx was not in uniform but nevertheless still carried the look of a law-enforcement officer not easily impressed.

�What�s all this?� he asked gruffly. �I didn�t know we had works scheduled.�

�Emergency repairs,� Endymion told him. �A minor leak, that�s all.�

Nyx�s eyes narrowed. �Do you have a permit?�

�Of course,� Endymion retorted.

They had expected this question. Ostara heard a rustling as Endymion went to his bag and withdrew a certificate that an hour ago had taken pride of place upon her office wall. She watched him hand it to Nyx, who studied it carefully.

�This says �Private Investigator Licence�,� the officer observed.

�It�s a sewage system inspection permit,� Endymion pointed out. �Ignore the �private investigator� bit; some joker in Verdandi�s office did that. It is signed by the Administrator.�

�Investigating the dregs of society, eh?�

Endymion grinned. �Something like that.�

Ostara could tell Nyx smelt a rat. The odour wafting up from her hiding place was a lot more real and hopefully enough to persuade him to go away. After an overly-long pause, Nyx handed back the certificate, gave a curt nod to Endymion and eased his tall frame from the tent. Endymion stared after him for a few moments and then gave a sigh of relief.

�That was close,� he murmured.

�Has he gone?� Ostara called. Her voice echoed eerily in the tunnel.

Endymion fastened the flap closed and came to the edge of the hole. Ostara stood at the bottom of the ladder some three metres below, with a boot either side of the sluggish stream of effluent running along the floor. She was not happy to have discovered that there was a genuine leak after all. Newbrum�s water and power systems were supposed to be sealed and the service tunnels kept dry.

�All clear,� Endymion confirmed.

�This place smells terrible,� she complained. �Can we get a move on?�

Endymion collected his bag and joined her at the bottom of the ladder. The unlit tunnel ran east to west along the length of Broad Street, with smaller passageways splitting off to the north and south at regular intervals. There was barely enough room even for the diminutive Ostara to stand upright, while the pipes and cable conduits attached to the walls on either side made the walkway narrow. The hard hats procured by Endymion had tiny lamps upon the brim, but once away from the opening to the street the light they emitted did little to make the tunnel feel less claustrophobic.

They had gone just a few metres when Endymion directed Ostara to a smaller tunnel to the south. The smell was worse than ever; a large pipe had cracked where it curved around the corner, leaking raw sewage. Hands over their noses, Endymion and Ostara stepped over the pool of fetid brown sludge and slipped into the side passage. The beams of their hard-hat lamps revealed the low tunnel was mercifully short. Ahead they saw a circular hatch, next to which various pipes and cables disappeared through the surrounding wall.

�With any luck, this door is our way into the building,� said Endymion.

�I�d settle for anywhere with fresh air,� muttered Ostara.

Endymion produced a crank handle from inside his flight suit, slotted it into a hole in the hatch and turned it until they both heard the clunk as locking bolts withdrew. When he caught Ostara�s quizzical expression, he adopted such a guilty look she did not have the heart to ask him how he came to possess such a useful tool.

He pulled open the hatch and they scrambled through the opening into the cramped basement beyond. The lights were on, revealing water treatment units, electrical distribution boxes and other apparatus for the building above. A door on the far side led them to a room filled with sacks of rubbish, the delicate odour of rat faeces and a blood-smeared freezer cabinet that smelt of raw meat. A faint murmur of voices came from the corridor beyond.

�The church hall is in the basement,� Endymion whispered, as he switched off their hard-hat lamps. �So it must be somewhere on this level.�

�We need to find somewhere to hide,� murmured Ostara. �What if we bump into Nyx or your sister, or anyone else for that matter? Do I look like a maintenance worker?�

Endymion smiled and beckoned for her to follow him down the corridor. They were forced into the shadows a few hurried steps later, alarmed by the sight of a group of people at the far end of the passage, who immediately turned and disappeared again through a door on the right. Another doorway along the same wall was just a few paces away. Scuttling forward, Ostara paused and squinted through the glass panel into the gloomy space beyond.

�Bingo!� she murmured.

�What is it?�

�I can see an old bingo machine,� she whispered. �I wasn�t expecting it to be this easy, but your little plan has led us straight to the back door of the hall. Clever boy!�

Endymion shrugged. �I do my best. Shall we go in?�

The door was of a type that was supposed to slide open as someone approached, but like many things in Newbrum it wore a large �OUT OF ORDER� sign. Ostara�s nimble fingers managed to prise it open enough for them to slip silently through into the hall beyond. They found themselves behind a convenient stack of spare chairs, in a dusty corner near the left-hand side of the stage. The murmur of voices was now much louder and when Ostara and Endymion peered from their hiding place, the weak orange glow emanating from the ceiling telepathy transmitters revealed the hall was nearly full. Ostara gave Endymion a nudge as she caught a glimpse of his sister, standing at the far end of the hall next to a girl with purple hair. They seemed to be deep in discussion, with Bellona showing the girl the open pages of a paper-leafed book, but were too far away to be heard.

�What does that sign mean?� Endymion whispered.

Ostara looked to where he pointed and gave an involuntarily shiver at the sight of a large banner that read: �ALL THAT IS PART DOES BELONG�. She was just about to reply when Endymion pulled her down behind the stacked chairs.

The lean muscular figure of Nyx appeared on stage before the giant swirly-star backdrop, dressed in a long black cape that to Ostara looked decidedly creepy. Behind him came two figures clad in hooded grey cloaks, worn with blue sashes patterned with what looked like astrological symbols. A hush fell upon the hall as Nyx took his place at the makeshift lectern. Ostara remembered they were there to collect evidence and barely had time to twist her wristpad camera lens towards the stage when he began to speak.

�Welcome, brothers and sisters!� Nyx cried. �This is an auspicious night. The fate of the twelve was cruelly twisted by the evil one but righteousness has prevailed! The disciples have emerged from the void to lead us the way. The time of deliverance is near!�

�Evil one?� whispered Ostara.

�Shush!� hissed Endymion.

�Priest Taranis, our guide of guides, faced the demon king Ravana in his incarnation as a treacherous she-devil. She turned against her guiding star and stole what was not hers!� Nyx paused. �The holy Isa-Sastra was lost. We endured further despair when Brother Cadmus, our loyal servant on Falsafah, fell also to her evil curse. Yet a member of this very church valiantly went amongst unbelievers and delivered the texts unto us. The prophecy of Falsafah has been revealed. Soon the reborn traveller will take his place at the door between worlds and the first true meeting of minds will commence!�

�Did he just mention Ravana?� whispered Ostara. �I mean, our Ravana?�

Endymion looked as confused as she was. �Prophecies are stupid,� he muttered.

�Praise the greys!� cried the congregation.

Ostara stifled a shriek. The two figures behind Nyx stepped forward, then with a dramatic flourish extended six-fingered hands and lowered their hoods. Their lizard-like features glistened in the dim orange light of the hall. Ostara�s thoughts immediately leapt back to the dreadful encounter in the engine room of the Dandridge Cole. She had been there with Ravana and Zotz at the birth of Taranis� disciples. She had hoped never to see them again, yet here were two of the twelve, alive in Newbrum.

She heard a gasp of pain from Endymion and realised she had grabbed his hand in panic and squeezed his fingers tight. Something made her look towards the seated audience and every expression she saw was stricken with shock. As she turned her wristpad to the congregation to record their reaction, the glow of the telepathy transmitters intensified and she was disquieted to see the transfixed faces relax and become strangely blissful.

�Tonight, our planetary guides reveal their true forms for the first time!� cried Nyx. There were no transmitters above the stage and Ostara realised Nyx�s sly smile was the expression of one relishing the act of control. �Mina and Vrscika; two of twelve to lead five systems to one glorious future! They are the water that will cleanse humankind of its folly; they are alpha and omega, strength and wisdom, man and grey!�

�zz-iin-yyoouur-heeaad-bee-iit-zz!� rasped the monks in unison.

�And be it in yours!� cried the congregation.

�Who are these freaks?� whispered Endymion, shocked.

�Taranis� cyberclones!� Ostara hissed. �Nyx has them under his control!�

TAU CETI HAD SET by the time the rattling transport clambered unsteadily up the receding slopes of the valley. Their journey past the charred horrors of the canyon was tense but in the end uneventful, though Kedesh, Ravana, Artorius and the greys remained on edge until the headlamps once again fell upon the road. They emerged just a few kilometres north of the airstrip, but the scanner revealed some good news in that the Que Qiao police cruiser had gone. When the navigation console finally managed to link with Falsafah�s satellite, it revealed the blip of a small spacecraft, high above the mountains, halfway between themselves and the Arallu Wastes.

Kedesh had by now cleaned herself up after her battle with the spiders and swapped places with Ravana at the controls, leaving Artorius and the greys to doze in the cabin behind. The depot ahead at the end of the road slowly resolved into a squat grey dome, similar to the Dhusarian enclave that Ravana, Artorius and the greys had left behind over two Terran days ago. The dome nestled in a natural hollow and the surrounding dunes were littered with an astonishing profusion of solar panels, far more than would be expected to power a small outpost on a planet relatively near to its sun. The gravel road led straight to a large airlock in the side of the dome that lit up beneath the light of a red warning beacon as they drew near, awakened to their presence by automatic sensors.

The airlock entrance slid open. Kedesh guided the clattering transport into a crescendo of noise from the labouring engine and brought the vehicle to a halt. After a short pause, the inner door opened and Kedesh drove into the hangar, brought the transport to a stop next to the remains of another dilapidated vehicle and killed the engine. Ravana stared blankly through the cracked windscreen at the surrounding hangar, subdued by the silence. Beside her, Kedesh slumped back in her seat and wearily rubbed her eyes.

�I thought you said this place was abandoned,� murmured Ravana.

�Years ago,� the woman replied. She lowered her hands. �Oh no. Not again.�

At the far end of the hangar, regarding them coolly, a dark-haired woman leaned casually in the exit doorway. She was tall and slim with olive skin and wore a long coat of black and silver fur totally inappropriate for the utilitarian surroundings of the hangar. Yet what captivated Ravana�s attention were the woman�s piercing yellow eyes, which scrutinised the transport in the manner of a cat contemplating a bowl of cream. As their gazes met, the woman gave a knowing smile and promptly vanished right before their eyes. Ravana caught a glimpse of something small and furry leaping lightly away through the open door and then it too was gone. The door slid closed with a hiss.

�Did you see her?� exclaimed Ravana. �She just disappeared!�

Kedesh glanced at her with a strange expression both secretive and annoyed.

�See who?� asked Artorius grumpily, disturbed from his slumber.

�I saw a woman,� Ravana said weakly, when she realised Kedesh was deliberately staying silent. �Who seemed to turn into a cat.�

Artorius slipped from his bunk to look through the windscreen and frowned at the empty hangar. Behind him, the greys emerged from their own slumber, looking none too pleased that the boy had awoken them in turn.

�Fwack?� asked Stripy, sounding grouchy.

�Ghosts!� exclaimed Artorius.

Ravana gave Kedesh a pleading look.

�It�s as good a description as any,� Kedesh admitted and sighed. �That is, if your definition of a ghost is a trans-dimensional pain in the arse.�

Upon leaving the transport, Ravana kept a watchful eye open for any movement in the shadows. Kedesh refused to be drawn further on the subject of the mysterious stranger, but the dome was not large and it did not take them long to ascertain it was deserted.

The doorway at the rear of the hangar led to a wide corridor into the heart of the dome. After passing a series of other doors leading to various storerooms, this passageway opened into another corridor that ran in a ring around a central circular common room. Further doors off this second passage led to a couple of dormitories, a small medical centre, a well-appointed laboratory and a computer suite equipped with military communications equipment, including a holovid booth. Everything looked at least a couple of decades old yet in good working order, though there was little evidence the depot had regular visitors.

In one respect they were far from alone. The depot�s computer network was live and unexpectedly home to an artificial-intelligence personality that had greeted them by way of a hologram in the computer suite. The monochrome projection was of an elderly man with crazy white hair and an equally dishevelled laboratory coat, a visage Ravana recognised from history books as that of an esteemed twentieth-century physicist.

�Welcome to Falsafah Alpha!� the hologram greeted. Its voice bore a slight German accent and was authoritative yet gentle, in the manner of a genial headmaster. �I am the Monitoring and Information Scrutiny System Intelligence, responsible for the continuing operation of this station.�

Ravana paused while she sorted out the acronym in her mind. �Missi?�

�That�s a girl�s name,� sneered Artorius.

�Pleased to meet you,� said Kedesh. �I wasn�t aware this place was a going concern.�

�The human contingent has been absent for a while,� the AI informed her. �My duty is to preserve the viability of this facility and to continue monitoring ongoing experiments until such time that full operations can recommence.�

�Do you always appear like that?� asked Ravana. She remained puzzled that they had found no trace of the phantom cat woman, but now wondered if it had been an alternative holographic manifestation of Missi. �An Einstein look-alike, I mean.�

�The hologram is merely an aid to human interfacing,� the AI replied, not registering the real question behind Ravana�s remark. �I am available to assist whenever required.�

�Thank you,� said Kedesh, looking thoughtful. �I will bear that in mind.�

The hologram nodded, waited a few moments, then when no one else said anything it faded away to leave them alone in the computer suite. Kedesh looked perturbed, but when Ravana gave her a questioning look, she put a finger to her lips and shook her head.

After beckoning to Ravana, Artorius and the greys to follow, Kedesh led them to the medical centre. They were all tired and looking forward to taking advantage of the beds in the dormitories, but before they retired Kedesh suggested they use the centre�s full-body scanner and run blood tests to make sure no one had gained hidden injuries as a result of their recent trials. The woman�s frown deepened when they found the medical systems already held their names and other information, presumably harvested from their implants by Missi.

�Are there records for anyone else?� asked Ravana. �That woman, for instance?�

�Forget her,� Kedesh said harshly. �You saw nothing.�

Ravana scowled, but let Kedesh proceed with the checks. Her curiosity was aroused when she saw the woman pocket a vial of Artorius� blood when she thought no one was looking, but said nothing. Kedesh acted coy about her own body scans, but when she came to check Ravana�s results she had a few questions of her own.

�Those scars of yours,� Kedesh said slowly. �On your face and arm. Do they hurt?�

Ravana hesitated. �Why do you ask?�

Kedesh lightly ran a finger down Ravana�s arm, along one of the deeper scars. There was a thin silver line at the base of the crease that contrasted markedly with the surrounding brown skin. Similar faint markings were evident elsewhere on the girl�s arm.

�Those lines,� she said. �I�ve never seen anything like them before.�

�I get pins and needles sometimes,� Ravana told her, looking wary. �Does the scan show anything? It�s just that��

Her words faltered amidst a tremor of fear. Behind them, Artorius and Stripy were playing their slapping game and their excited shrieks had driven Nana to hide beneath the examination table. Kedesh took Ravana�s hand, gave her fingers a gentle squeeze of reassurance and waited for the girl to continue.

�I have this cat,� Ravana said at last. �An electric pet. A few months ago it fell off a window ledge and the panel in its belly came loose. I knew my friend Zotz had been secretly messing with its programming and guessed he had not closed it properly. When I went to push the panel closed, I was curious and looked inside. The cat was full of these tiny plant-like tendrils, all sprouting from its organic AI chip. It looked horrible.�

Kedesh looked puzzled. �I�m not sure I follow you.�

�Father says it�s something called Woomerberg Syndrome. The AI on the Platypus, my father�s ship, is affected the same way. At a Que Qiao research plantation on Yuanshi, we discovered that their AI units use brain cells taken from greys. Then when Taranis set up his secret cloning laboratory on the Dandridge Cole, alien growth hormones got into the life-support systems and contaminated the ship and my cat. And me.�

�Alien brain cells?� Kedesh smiled. �You�re no AI!�

�My implant,� Ravana said weakly. �I�m scared those silver lines are the same, that my implant is sending out tendrils under my skin. What else could it be?�

�That�s ridiculous! Where do you get these silly ideas?�

�There�s other things too,� Ravana protested, a little taken aback by the woman�s reaction. �My weak arm seems stronger now than it used to be. And, also�� She hesitated, then sighed. �Actually, I can�t think of anything else. Am I being silly?�

Kedesh gave her a reassuring hug.

�You�re fine!� she announced. �If a bit silly. You�ll be pleased to know the scanner has not found anything some food, a cup of tea and a good night�s sleep won�t cure. You too, Artorius. This may be our last chance for a decent meal and a proper bed for a while, so we may as well make the most of it.�

Ravana managed a wry grin. �Unless we get awoken by the strange cat woman.�

�I said forget her,� Kedesh said sternly. �I�ll see you in the common room.�

Ravana smiled, took Artorius by the hand and led him out of the medical centre, the greys trotting behind. Kedesh waited a few moments and then sighed.

�Missi?� she called.

The hologram appeared near the doorway and greeted her with a nod.

�How may I be of assistance?� asked the AI.

�Ravana�s results,� Kedesh said. She pointed towards the scanner. �Delete them.�

The circular common room was well-appointed with comfortable furnishings, a small kitchenette and a dark round skylight in the roof high above to provide natural light during the long Falsafah days. The most welcoming sight of all was the room�s military-grade food molecularisor, which to their surprise was fully stocked and ready to serve whatever they desired. Artorius� stubborn vote for copious amounts of ice-cream was ignored and instead Ravana set it to deliver a feast of delectable English and Indian dishes to satisfy their hunger. Missi reappeared briefly when Artorius accidentally stumbled against a control panel, but there was something about the hologram that unnerved Ravana and she was quick to dismiss the AI�s offer of assistance.

It was not long after the now-obligatory cup of tea and slice of cake that their weariness finally caught up with them. Artorius was the first to yawn, which proved contagious and one by one they shuffled away to the dormitories to get some sleep. When Ravana suggested they sleep in shifts as a precaution, Kedesh pointed out that Missi would undoubtedly warn them to any dangers, but did agree to a little sabotage of the dormitory door circuits so that they could only be opened from inside.

Despite her reservations, Ravana slept soundly. The room was comfortable and quiet, the latter by virtue of Artorius and the restless greys having taken the second dormitory for themselves. Kedesh had been unusually coy when getting ready for bed and insisted on undressing in private, but the woman�s presence in the neighbouring bunk was comforting. Ravana�s own bed was snug and warm, her belly was full and in the darkness of the room she felt safe. Images of ghastly alien clones, giant spiders and the mysterious dark-haired woman hovered on the edge of her dreams but the nightmares never came.

Kedesh was evidently a light sleeper, for when Ravana awoke several hours later the woman�s bed was empty and her clothes were gone. After a quick visit to the dormitory�s small bathroom, Ravana slipped on her overalls and headed towards the hangar, from where she could hear faint sounds of activity. A decent night�s sleep had done her good and her bones no longer ached like they did. She had been on Falsafah for over six weeks, which was normally long enough to adjust to local gravity. It was only her mistreatment at the hands of Jizo and Lilith that had left her overly-conscious of weight that, though less than what it would be on Earth, was still more than she was used to carrying back home.

Ravana reached the door to the computer suite and paused. Earlier, she had been too tired to try anything, but now wondered if the station had a transmitter capable of sending a message back home. Entering the room, she examined the military equipment. The holovid booth was of a familiar commercial design, but after switching it on her hopes were dashed when she was confronted by a message reporting a fault with the antenna. What puzzled her was that the system log showed a call had been made earlier that night. Disheartened, Ravana abandoned the computer suite and resumed her way to the hangar.

Their battered transport was on jacks, with one of its rear wheels removed and multi-limbed robots busy at work conducting repairs. The attached refuelling line was an optimistic touch, for the vehicle was clearly not going anywhere soon. Kedesh was nowhere in sight, but her plasma cannon lay next to a pile of rags upon a workbench, looking freshly cleaned. Ravana guessed it was her who had instructed the depot�s robots to start repairs, which judging by their progress must have been several hours ago. The ramshackle remains of another transport parked next to their own was not a good advert for their services.

One of the squat maintenance automatons was having problems getting into position to clean a broken shock-absorber mount for welding. Ravana took some gloves and auto-shield goggles from the bench, relieved the robot of its grinding tool, knelt beside it and absorbed herself in the task of stripping dirt and rust from the damaged steel. That done, it took a matter of minutes to clamp the mount back onto the chassis and use the robot�s gas arc welder to finalise the repair. While she did not share Zotz�s mania for inventing things, she was good at fixing machines and it felt good to be doing something useful. The job finished, she left the automaton to its duties and watched as another robot, clinging limpet-like to the hull, applied liquid glass to the myriad of cracks across the windscreen.

�Industrious little things, are they not?� a voice purred behind her.

Startled, Ravana jumped and then froze in wonder at the sight of a small black and silver tabby cat sitting on top of a tool cabinet near the door, nonchalantly licking its paws. The cat paused to return her stare, leapt lightly to the floor and in a surreal blink of an eye abruptly metamorphosed into the tall, dark-haired woman Ravana had seen earlier. She wore the same full-length fur coat, which was open to reveal a long, blindingly-white column dress gathered below the bust. The stranger�s baleful yellow stare bore into her like that of a caged tiger idly awaiting the right moment to snap the zoo keeper�s neck in two. Ravana nervously backed away. There was something beyond the woman�s supernatural method of arrival that terrified her.

�Who are you?� Ravana�s words trembled. �Where did you come from?�

�You humans are so creative,� the woman remarked, ignoring Ravana�s questions. �There seems to be no limit to what you or your clever devices can do. Your motives may be questionable, but your determination is second to none. Most impressive.�

�I�m sorry?�

�Sorry? Use that word with care!� the woman hissed. �One day you will know the true depths of remorse. But take heart!� she said gaily, her tone suddenly brightening. �Even the most humble of pawns can be queen if they make the right moves. The trick to survival, my dear Ravana of Yuanshi, is to understand your place in the great game.�

�How do you know my�� began Ravana. She was speaking to thin air.

The woman had disappeared in a tiny flash of silver fur. Frightened, Ravana shuffled around the edge of the hangar, keeping her panic-stricken stare wide open for the woman�s return as she hastened towards the door. Only then did she scream and run.

�Would you like to play a game?�

Artorius opened a sleepy eye, saw the hazy monochrome figure at the foot of his bunk and sat bolt upright in bed in alarm. The boy rubbed sleep from his eyes and the shape resolved into the familiar hologram of Missi. Artorius gave an involuntary yawn and looked around the dormitory. The trail of sheets and blankets leading from where Nana and Stripy had been sleeping suggested they were up and about somewhere.

�What?� asked Artorius, confused. �A game?�

�I am well-versed in chess,� the hologram continued. �And many other pursuits.�

�I�m hungry,� the boy complained. �What time is it?�

�We will play later,� Missi acknowledged, this time with a slight edge to its voice, not that Artorius noticed. �A healthy mind makes for healthy flesh.�

Artorius thought about this, then threw back his sheets and scrambled messily to the edge of his bunk. Somehow he had forgotten to get undressed before going to bed.

�Do you know the slapping game?� he asked.

Ravana ran along the circular corridor, eager to distance herself from the scene of her disturbing close encounter. She heard the reassuring sound of Kedesh�s voice from a room ahead and moments later burst through the door into the dome�s laboratory. Her panic turned to disgust at the sight of Kedesh elbows deep in slime, for the woman was busy dissecting the mangled remains of a metre-wide black spider. Beside her, Missi�s hologram hovered disconcertingly a few centimetres above the floor. Kedesh and the AI were in deep discussion and barely gave Ravana a glance as she skidded to a halt inside the room.

�It has the same flexible carapace and freaky internal skeleton of a Yuanshi ashtapada,� Kedesh was saying. �The enlarged book lungs and pronounced frontal lobes set it apart. But there�s nothing to eat out there and very little oxygen beyond the valley. How can these things be anything else other than a bizarre and possibly pointless experiment?�

�I am unable to confirm nor deny your observations,� replied the hologram.

�I saw her again!� cried Ravana. �I even spoke to her!�

Kedesh looked up and regarded Ravana crossly. �Saw who?�

�The phantom cat woman. She was in the hangar!�

�Ravana,� Kedesh said gently. �There was no one there. Forget her.�

�You�ve seen her before, haven�t you?� Ravana accused her, but the woman just shrugged. �Missi, you must have cameras everywhere. Did you see her?�

�My records contain no image of such person,� the AI told Ravana.

�Fat lot of use you are,� Ravana grumbled. �I did see her! She said something about being a pawn or a queen in a game, then disappeared exactly as before! She was tall, with dark hair, a fur coat and strange yellow eyes and� What?�

Kedesh gave a sympathetic smile and shook her head sadly. Ravana opened her mouth to argue, but the woman�s expression was that of someone listening to a child�s tale of fairies at the bottom of the garden. Ravana scowled and slunk into a corner to sulk.

�Can we return to the spiders?� suggested Kedesh, addressing the hologram. �This experiment of yours. Classified information, I take it?�

�To answer that question would presuppose your earlier deductions were correct,� Missi said smoothly. �You are free to use the station�s facilities as you please, but I cannot allow you to compromise the ongoing research conducted under my supervision.�

�By that you mean stop asking questions,� Kedesh retorted irritably.

�You don�t answer any of mine,� complained Ravana. �Why don�t you believe me? I did see her. She knew my name!�

Finding herself ignored, Ravana shuffled closer to Kedesh and the hologram. She was trying not to look at the corpse, for the thought of what the woman was doing to the mangled arachnid made her feel sick. Kedesh paused to dictate murmured notes to a nearby touch-screen slate, seemingly fascinated by the innards of the spider�s carapace.

�Do you know if this place has a working ED transmitter?� Ravana asked cautiously, trying a change of tack. �I was hoping I could call home.�

Just for an instant, the hologram froze and then flickered, as if the guiding intelligence had been temporarily called away. Ravana turned her questioning stare towards Kedesh, but the woman pointedly remained engrossed in her dissection.

�I regret that the transceiver is currently inoperative,� Missi announced calmly.

Ravana found the AI�s manner oddly suspicious. �What sort of problem?�

�There is a fault in the alpha-echo-three-five control unit,� the AI replied hesitantly. �This is situated on the main antenna mast and human intervention is required.�

�I�ve seen that movie,� Ravana retorted crossly. �If you don�t want me to use the holovid, just say so.� She glanced at the half-dissected spider, then to Kedesh and shuddered. �I don�t know how you can even touch that thing. Where did it come from?�

�It was wrapped around a drive shaft underneath the transport,� she said. �I wanted to test my hunch that the spiders are part of an experiment Missi refuses to tell me about. I�m pretty sure the bunker we saw in the valley is extracting oxygen from ground water to give them something to breathe, but it makes me wonder what else is needed to sustain them. I�m somewhat stumped as to why they are out there at all.�

�The pursuit of knowledge is reason enough,� the hologram interjected.

Kedesh looked far from convinced. �I know this place was built by the American military. I dread to think of what your creators had in mind when they set up an experiment involving these things.�

�The scope and aims of the research are restricted,� the AI stated.

�This is a military research centre?� asked Ravana, alarmed. �Won�t we get into trouble just by being here?�

�You heard Missi,� said Kedesh. �We are welcome as long as we don�t meddle. Besides, I think the Americans have forgotten this place exists. They built both here and Falsafah Beta more than twenty years ago, but the latter has long been used as a hideaway by the Dhusarians and no one has ever objected.�

�I am aware of their presence,� Missi confirmed. �They are of no consequence.�

�Easy for you to say,� muttered Ravana.

�Ravana, Artorius and our grey friends had a rather unpleasant innings with those at Falsafah Beta,� Kedesh explained. Ravana wondered why she was telling this to an AI. �It has been a trying time all round, but we are grateful for the chance to rest.�

�You are most welcome,� the AI replied. �The station is at your disposal.�

�We�ll be gone before you know it,� said Ravana, still thinking of the mysterious stranger in the hangar. �No one likes guests who overstay their welcome, do they?�

�On the contrary,� said Missi. �There is no danger of that happening here.�

Artorius pushed aside the empty bowl, slumped back into his chair and burped. His fifth serving of ice-cream was nice, but somehow not as satisfying as the previous four, to add to which he now felt queasy. Sitting with him in the common room were Nana and Stripy. They had both been keen to try the cold dessert, albeit with mixed results; Stripy was a bowl ahead of Artorius and behaving as if it were some sort of competition, while Nana had left a first helping unfinished. Artorius watched with a glazed expression as a clawed scullery robot scuttled along the table on tiny legs, scooped the empty dishes into the basket upon its back, then disappeared once more through a hatch in the wall. Missi�s hologram, hovering by the food molecularisor, approached the seated diners with an icy smile.

�Was that to your satisfaction?� asked the AI.

Artorius nodded, burped again and gave a weak grin. �I feel sick,� he said.

�Fwack,� agreed Stripy. The grey�s face had taken on a distinct green tint.

�Thraak thraak!� chided Nana. �Thraak thraak thraak!�

�I don�t care,� Artorius said stubbornly. �I like ice-cream.�

He enjoyed being able to order Missi around; and not just because he had no idea how to work the molecularisor, or indeed anything else in the kitchenette. He felt the AI treated him like a proper adult in letting him do what he wanted, which was more than Ravana or Kedesh ever did.

�I like you,� Artorius decided. �You can be my slave.�

�Your arrival was unforeseen but welcome,� Missi replied. �I have no recent data on your development and my research will be greatly enhanced by your presence. I fear however that allowing your companions to remain poses a risk to this establishment.�

�Nana and Stripy?�

�I refer to the young female and the other individual,� the AI clarified. �The creatures with you in this room appear to be of non-Earth origin and similar to the subject of another research project known to me. They are particularly worthy of further study.�

�They�re aliens,� Artorius told the hologram. �They�re really clever but talk funny.�

�Fwack!� protested Stripy.

�Your human companions destroyed many years of work when they trespassed in the valley. They will make amends by sacrificing themselves to science. Once committed, I would be free to serve you and you alone.�

�Thraak?� exclaimed Nana, alarmed.

�Could I do whatever I wanted?�

Missi�s reply was interrupted by the arrival of Ravana and Kedesh, who both stopped short at the door upon seeing the copious amounts of ice-cream dribbling from Artorius� lips. Stripy and Nana shuffled away, looking sheepish. Ignoring the hologram, Ravana shook her head sadly and reached for the towel hanging by the kitchenette sink.

�Artorius!� she scolded. �Look at the mess you�ve made of yourself! Have you had nothing to eat but ice-cream?�

�I can eat what I want!� Artorius retorted sulkily. �You can�t tell me what to do!�

�How rude!� said Ravana. �You need to learn some manners, young man.�

�Fwack fwack,� said Stripy.

�He had five bowls of ice-cream?�

�Stripy had six,� Artorius retorted sulkily. �Why can�t I�?�

Ravana muffled the boy�s protest with a non-too-gentle chastisement of his face with the towel. Kedesh regarded Missi suspiciously.

�Didn�t we leave you in the laboratory?� she asked.

�Each room has its own holographic projector,� the AI said smoothly. �The system can support multiple simultaneous visual interfaces.�

�Lucky us,� muttered Kedesh. �Make sure the boy eats something healthy, would you? We�re going to the hangar to see how the robots are doing.�

She waited for an acknowledgement, but the AI remained silent. Artorius pulled himself free of the towel, glanced up at the hologram and frowned.

�Missi?� asked Ravana.

�Your instructions have been noted,� the AI replied.

�Good,� said Kedesh. �We�ll be back shortly.�

She beckoned to Ravana and together they left the common room. Artorius yawned, then giggled as he caught Stripy doing the same thing. Apart from making him feel sick, eating all that ice-cream had for some reason made him feel sleepy. His gaze was drawn once more to the molecularisor and he gave the hologram a hopeful look.

�Another?� he suggested.

�Thraak,� murmured Nana uneasily.

�Your companions left me strict instructions,� replied Missi, then paused. �Yet the needs of my research are paramount. You may eat whatever you wish and then you will sleep. By the time you awake, they will have paid their dues.�

Their transport still looked like it had been dragged through a battlefield backwards, but now stood firm upon all six wheels with its windows repaired and the hull wiped clean of spiders� innards. The maintenance robots were busy tidying the final minor repairs, though Ravana was a little disconcerted by the nuts, bolts and twisty metal brackets one robot was sweeping away from beneath the vehicle. There seemed little either of them could do to help. Kedesh agreed and pointed out they still needed to search the storerooms and stock up on provisions, whereupon she grabbed a trolley from the hangar and led the way.

�We need to talk,� said Ravana. They struck lucky in the first room they tried and Kedesh was busy pulling boxes of travel rations from a shelf. �About that cat woman.�

�What woman?� asked Kedesh innocently. �Ooh! Veggie sausage hat-trick!�

�You know who I mean!�

�There�s a lot of fried chicken meals here. Can�t see the fascination myself.�

�Kedesh!�

�Spinach pasta bake?� Kedesh showed Ravana the ration carton, caught the girl�s look of frustration and dropped the box into the trolley with a sigh. �She was a quantum mirage, a hallucination. Missi didn�t see her because in a way she wasn�t really there. Please believe me when I say we have more important things to worry about than her.�

�A quantum mirage?� Ravana scoffed. �The first time she appeared you said, �oh no, not again�! And you called her a pain in the arse. What is it you�re not telling me?�

�As I said, we have other problems,� Kedesh hissed. She kept her voice low. �I didn�t want to say anything in front of the boy, but something very odd is going on. I was under the impression this place had been mothballed due to lack of funds, change of government, that sort of thing. I thought we�d have to start up life support before doing anything else.�

�The dome is probably kept pressurised to support the weight of the roof,� Ravana told her. �I�m training to be an engineer,� she added, seeing the woman�s blank expression.

�Really? I thought you were here to do archaeology.�

�Can�t a girl have a hobby?�

�Anyway, it�s more than just that. Everything seems to be running normally, as if the crew are still in residence and have just popped out for a while. Except when I checked the research log in the laboratory, the last entry was almost six years ago.�

�So that woman must be real,� Ravana declared. �The last of the scientists!�

�She�s a watcher!�

Ravana opened her mouth to speak, hesitated and gave the woman a curious stare.

�Happy now?� said Kedesh.

�A watcher?�

�Indeed.�

�A woman who is also a cat?�

�She�s actually neither, but watchers have their preferred forms.�

�The Isa-Sastra mentions �watchers�,� Ravana said slowly.

�I don�t doubt it,� Kedesh replied testily. �For now, please forget about her and listen! I think the personnel here have been bowled a googly. That AI is being far too coy for my liking. Have you noticed that Missi has blocked all implant control channels?�

�I did wonder why my head wasn�t filled with the usual rubbish.�

�Exactly. This place should be buzzing with activity. I suggest we take what supplies we can, find Artorius and the greys, then leave. Any objections?�

�Have I got time for a quick bath?� Ravana asked hopefully.

�No,� Kedesh said firmly. �Ooh! Chocolate gateaux!�

Ravana managed a grin. �How do you not put on weight?�

�I will with this stuff. The cake that launched a thousand hips!�

They quickly got to work filling the trolley with armfuls of boxed rations haphazardly plucked from the shelves. After what seemed an age they were back in the hangar, where they spent another frantic few minutes throwing the trolley�s contents through the open hatch of the transport. Kedesh had just disappeared inside to shove the various boxes into storage lockers when Ravana was almost swept off her feet by a grey blur that entered the hangar like a miniature whirlwind. This time the newcomer was definitely no phantom cat.

�Thraak!� cried Nana, gesticulating wildly. �Thraak thraak!�

�What�s that?� asked Ravana, startled. The grey vocalised too quickly for the implant translator to generate anything but a mess of random interpretations. �Your bush kangaroo has skipped down a mine shaft?�

�Thraak thraak!�

�Poisoned! By ice-cream?�

�Who�s been poisoned?� asked Kedesh, poking her head from the transport�s hatch.

�Thraak thraak thraak!�

Ravana hastened across the hangar, then saw the door ahead sliding shut of its own accord and instinctively broke into a run. Her hand hit the switch just as the door sealed but there was no response. She tried the control again, then gave the doorway an impatient kick. Kedesh joined her and tried it for herself, but she too found the controls dead.

�Missi!� cried Kedesh. �Open the hangar door!�

There was no response. Exasperated, Ravana hammered on the button but the door refused to budge. As she paused, she became aware of the distant rattle of a compressor and a change in air flow from the vent above their heads. Missi remained silent, but a faint hum from a concealed speaker told them the AI was listening.

�Missi,� growled Kedesh. �Open this door now!�

�I regret that is not possible,� the disembodied voice of the AI replied.

�Let us out of here!� demanded Ravana. �What have done with Artorius?�

�The boy is quite safe,� Missi intoned. �He is a most fortunate find, for once analysed he will complete important gaps in my research.�

�What?� cried Ravana, confused. �Don�t you dare lay a finger on him!�

�Your own fate is more prosaic,� the AI continued. �The robots carry food to my subjects but the synthetic proteins produced by the molecularisor are a poor substitute for the living flesh they need to thrive. I have therefore taken the liberty of extracting the air from the hangar, which will be restored before you reach the point of death, though not before you suffer irreversible brain damage. You destroyed many research specimens, but rest assured that your contribution to the welfare of the remainder will be largely pain-free.�

�Thraak thraak!�

�We are not going to be spider food!� retorted Kedesh. �Open this blasted door!�

�This is crazy!� shrieked Ravana. �Let us out!�

To her alarm, she was already finding it harder to draw breath. Kedesh succumbed quickly and fell to her knees, though Nana seemed singularly unaffected. Ravana grabbed the woman�s arm and in desperation dragged her towards the transport to take refuge inside. A large robot, aggressively brandishing its six multi-tooled limbs, blocked their way. Feeling faint, Ravana left Kedesh and returned to claw at the door but to no avail. It was then that her gaze fell upon the plasma cannon, still lying upon the nearby bench.

�Having problems?� purred a voice from behind.

Ravana, Kedesh and Nana turned to stare at the dark-haired woman lounging coolly against the front of the derelict transport parked next to their own. The woman gave the prone Kedesh a sympathetic smile, greeted Ravana and Nana with an apologetic shrug, then went back to idly contemplating her manicured fingernails.

�You!� gasped Kedesh. �This is not how it is supposed to be!�

�The boy is in no danger,� the woman retorted. �There is no paradox.�

�The AI is pumping out the air!� Ravana cried weakly. �Help us!�

�Mad Missi killed them all,� the woman said casually. �Military personnel, support staff, the lot. They were still breathing when the robots dragged them into the valley, but only just. The AI�s creators did not see the need for moral reasoning in a system intended solely for science. This is what happens when you remove ethics from the pursuit of knowledge. I�ve never seen a machine so dedicated to research!�

�You evil moggy,� murmured Kedesh. �Do something!�

�Does �science� include rearing giant spiders?� the woman asked conversationally.

Ravana stared at the woman in disbelief. Her lungs felt ready to burst, her mind was in turmoil, yet the watcher sat chatting politely as if she had just dropped by for a cup of tea. Kedesh lay unmoving upon the floor. Ravana frantically looked around the hangar and in desperation staggered to the workbench and picked up the plasma cannon.

�What are you doing, Ravana?� asked Missi. �This is no time for violence.�

�I disagree,� she muttered. �It is the perfect time.�

The weapon was heavier than expected but felt good in her hands. Ravana pressed her thumb against the power switch and blinked in surprise. Targeting cross-hairs had appeared in space before her and she realised the cannon�s guidance systems had linked with the mind�s-eye display of her implant. As she hesitantly prepared to blast the door, she heard a clatter of steel limbs and saw a maintenance robot coming in for the attack.

�You have very little air left,� said the AI. �Why make this difficult?�

In a panic, Ravana turned the cannon towards the robot and pulled the trigger. A spear of white lightning leapt from the barrel and hit the mechanical dervish, which spun away in a flurry of disintegrating components and crashed against the airlock in a shower of sparks. Fighting for breath, Ravana fell dizzily to her knees and defiantly swung the cannon towards the door to the corridor. Mustering all her remaining strength, she fired again.

The blast tore the door from its frame, sending it flying down the passage at the head of a searing tide of plasma. Ravana was promptly knocked to the ground as a gust of air blew through the shattered doorway, filling the hangar with life-giving oxygen. Her chest ached, she had spots before her eyes and it felt as if her throbbing brain had turned to candyfloss, but she was alive. She climbed to her feet with the plasma cannon still in her hands. Nana scuttled towards Kedesh, who during all the excitement had fainted.

�Your actions are jeopardising my research,� the AI said calmly. �I can no longer tolerate your presence. I have no option but to remove life support in all areas.�

�I have all the support I need,� retorted Ravana. Having recovered her breath, she patted the barrel of the cannon. �If I find you�ve done anything to harm Artorius, I will ram this thing into your databanks and blow very big holes in your research.�

�Bravo,� said the woman, still sat on her perch. �Your heroic quips need work, but the gratuitous use of a big gun shows real promise. Well done, girl.�

Ravana looked at her with contempt. In the corridor beyond the ragged remains of the doorway, red lights flashed and warning sirens wailed. She realised Nana was no longer at Kedesh�s side, then saw the grey clambering out of the transport�s hatch with a bundle of emergency oxygen masks clutched tight in its spindly fingers.

�Thraak thraak!�

�Brilliant!� said Ravana. The grey handed her a couple of masks. �Get Kedesh into the transport. I�ll go and fetch Artorius and Stripy.�

She caught a brief blur of silver out of the corner of her eye and saw that Kedesh�s watcher had disappeared once more. It was a mystery that could wait. Ravana slipped a mask over her face and hurried into the shrapnel-strewn corridor.

The door to the common room slid shut at her approach. Her headache had cleared a little and after examining the implant readings of the plasma cannon, she reduced its power to minimum, called out a suitable warning to Artorius, then stood back and blasted away the door. As the detritus settled, she was not in the least bit surprised to find the monochrome hologram of Missi waiting for her on the other side, looking more ethereal than ever at the end of its dust-streaked projector beams.

�I cannot let you take the young human,� the hologram said. �It is vital that I have time to conduct important analysis, otherwise my records will remain incomplete.�

�He�s just a little boy,� protested Ravana, her voice muffled by her mask. �He is not a scientific specimen for you to play with!�

�You are wrong,� the AI replied. �Artorius is unique and must be studied. The logical explanation for his presence is so the different experiments can be compared.�

�Artorius is not an experiment!�

The hologram hovered menacingly at the shattered door. Ravana muttered something obscene under her breath, stepped through the projection and entered the common room. Artorius and Stripy were slumped at the table, but Ravana�s immediate panic was tempered when she heard them both snoring loudly. She ran over and quickly shook the boy�s shoulder, then when that had no effect she dumped the cannon onto the table, filled a glass with water from the sink and tipped it over his head. Artorius spluttered, lifted his head and glared at her with a look of annoyed bewilderment.

�What was that for?� he complained, putting a hand to his dripping hair.

�We have to go!� urged Ravana. She handed him the spare mask. �Come on!�

Artorius gave Stripy a shove, who promptly slipped off the seat, fell to the floor and awoke with a loud shriek. Ravana assumed the air would be getting thin by now but Stripy, like Nana, seemed oblivious of Missi�s attempts to asphyxiate them all.

�Fwack,� grumbled Stripy. �Fwack fwack!�

�My research will not be compromised,� declared Missi. �I cannot let you leave.�

�Oh, shut up!� retorted Ravana and picked up the plasma cannon. A quick glance was enough to follow the dust-laden beams to the projector unit in the ceiling and she dispatched the hologram with a single well-aimed blast.

�You killed Missi!� exclaimed Artorius.

�I shot the ghost, not the demon within,� she retorted. �Put your mask on.�

�Why?�

�Because Missi is trying to kill us!�

Ravana urged Artorius and Stripy through the remains of the door and on towards the corridor to the hangar. The boy stared wide-eyed at the various scenes of destruction and gave the gun in her hands a wary look. Upon reaching the hangar, Ravana was relieved to see Kedesh was conscious and back on her feet, albeit wavering unsteadily at the open hatch of the transport. Her news however was not good.

�The airlock is jammed shut,� she said. �That robot you hit for six made a bad show of exploding all over the controls.�

�I�ll try harder next time there�s a mad AI out to get us,� retorted Ravana. She swung the cannon towards the airlock. �Do I blast the doors?�

�We�ll try and ram our way out. You�d better get aboard.�

�Thraak thraak,� agreed Nana, standing behind Kedesh.

Ravana passed the woman the plasma cannon, then helped Artorius and Stripy up the steps into the transport�s own tiny airlock. She was about to follow when she heard the voice of the AI once again, as emotionless as before.

�It is imperative that you stay,� said Missi. �My research is all that matters.�

Ravana jumped as a steel roof joist dropped with a clang to the floor. A loud metallic creak echoed around the hangar. From where she stood, she could see down the corridor into the heart of the dome. The walls were buckling under the weight of the roof.

�Oh my,� she murmured. �Missi, what have you done?�

She leapt into the transport and slammed the hatch shut behind her. Kedesh was at the controls and had started the engine, but sat staring through the windscreen, transfixed by the hangar falling apart around them. Artorius and the greys stood behind, looking alarmed.

�Get us out of here!� yelled Ravana. She tore off her oxygen mask and flung it to the floor. �The air pressure�s fallen too low to support the dome!�

Kedesh shook herself, yanked the gear lever into position and shoved the speed control to maximum. The hydrogen power plant roared into life, sending the transport leaping backwards into the hangar airlock door and knocking Ravana off her feet. There was a bang, followed by a screech of metal, then a second bang as they shot through into the chamber and hit the outer airlock door. The engine gave a determined grunt, then this too burst open behind them and they were free.

The transport bounced into the Falsafah night. Still going backwards, they accelerated along the gravel road, eager to leave the collapsing depot behind. The research station was no longer a dome, for Missi�s attempts to suffocate them in a vacuum left the base with no option but to collapse under the weight of Falsafah�s own atmosphere. Kedesh brought the transport to a halt, switched on the headlamps and they watched in silence as Falsafah Alpha slowly crumpled into the dunes like a deflating balloon.

Kedesh leaned back in her seat and sighed. �That storeroom had three shelves of chocolate cake I�ll never see again.�

�No more ice-cream,� murmured Artorius grumpily.

�Fwack,� agreed Stripy and burped.

�Thraak thraak!� chided Nana.

Ravana frowned. �Why is everything on this planet out to get us?�

�Beats me,� said Kedesh. �And we still have five thousand kilometres to go.�

QUIRINUS FIXED HIS STARE upon the lights of the narrow desert airstrip and tried to ignore Momus� incessant moaning. His pilot-for-hire had good cause for complaint, for the descent from orbit through the Falsafah night was proving to be possibly the most harrowing experience of Quirinus� many years as a pilot. The Platypus did not like the heavier gravity at all and the rocket boosters strapped to the hull were creating dangerous turbulence the sonic shield was struggling to contain. The ship�s flimsy aerofoils, extended in an attempt to make the most of Falsafah�s atmosphere, trembled like the wings of a drunken dragonfly, though the unfortunate image in Quirinus� mind was of a chicken that had leapt from a hen-house roof after forgetting it could not fly. They were coming in far too fast for comfort.

Zotz sat rigid, strapped into the seat on Quirinus� right. He had not said a word during the descent and frantically stroked the cat on his lap with such nervous intensity it was a wonder the electric pet had any fake fur left. The two-day flight, during which Quirinus and Momus had spent their time alternating between dealing with minor repairs and arguing with each other, had proved to be a very tedious experience.

�This is frigging madness!� cried Momus. �The crappy wings are going to fall off!�

�Shut up!� Quirinus retorted. �Ship, how are we doing?�

�Descent path for Arallu Depot is being maintained,� the ship�s computer replied smoothly. �Air brakes are insufficient to reduce speed to optimum for planet-fall and further burn of retro rockets is required. This will leave insufficient fuel to achieve orbit if landing is aborted. This is proving a most interesting experience, Captain Quirinus.�

�Not the word I would have used,� muttered Quirinus. �Any word from Arallu?�

�The facility reports no service personnel,� the AI informed him. �Please rest assured that I am in full communication with the spaceport automatic guidance systems.�

�In other words, there�s no one waiting to pick up the frigging pieces when we crash,� grumbled Momus, tapping away at the console. �Ten seconds on the retros?�

Quirinus nodded. Moments later, they heard the roar of engines and felt their seatbelts tighten as the forward-facing thrusters fired. The console screen showed the night-time view from the belly of the ship, a complex tableau of dark dunes and arid valleys in the infrared display�s million hues of green.

�Ten kilometre warning,� said the computer.

The retros did their job and the Platypus gradually settled into a calmer trajectory. Quirinus touched the control to deploy the landing gear and listened to the reassuring clunks from below as all four sets of wheels lowered into position. The faulty visual scanners left a blind spot below the sonic shield generator, leaving a forward view restricted to what he could see through the windscreen, but the frown he had worn through much of the descent was there for a very different reason. The pale illuminated dome of Arallu Depot looked lost amidst the expanse of endless desert, an insignificant twinkle of white alongside the runway�s dotted lines of red. It was a long way from home should anything go wrong.

�Hold on to something,� he advised his crew. �This may be a rough landing.�

�What a bloody surprise,� grumbled Momus.

�Quirinus is a good pilot!� protested Zotz, breaking his silence. �He can fly the Platypus with his eyes closed.�

Momus glanced at Quirinus� eye patch. �He�s halfway there already.�

As it happened, it was a text-book landing. The Platypus came in at an angle that produced a cascade of sparks from the rear casings of the hanging boosters, yet the spacecraft barely bounced as it touched down straight and true, with just a gentle screech of tyres to herald their arrival. As the ship slowly coasted to a halt at the end of the runway, Quirinus� grin broadened when he saw that even Momus was impressed.

�That�s what you call piloting,� Quirinus declared.

�Glad to be of service,� snapped the AI. Its metallic tones sounded miffed.

�Of course,� he added hastily. �Ship, thank you for your assistance.�

In no time at all they were trundling back along the airstrip towards the dome. As the landing lights of the Platypus came to halt upon the transit lounge, the depot�s automatic systems began to extend the walkway tunnel, thought twice and then pulled it back again when it became clear there was a huge booster blocking the cargo bay door. Quirinus gave a rueful glance towards the lounge, knowing it was too much to expect to see Ravana waving at a window, then returned his attention to shutting down the flight systems. Zotz watched the aborted actions of the docking tunnel and frowned. Momus unbuckled his seat harness, stretched wearily and looked out of the window at the nearby dome.

�Did anyone remember to pack any frigging spacesuits?� he asked.

Govannon �Aberystwyth� Jones angrily stomped onwards upon yet another pointless circuit of the excavation�s dome, his scowl deepening with every cloud of dust kicked up by his boots. He was aware of the stares that followed; not only the scared expressions of Hestia, Xuthus and Urania, watching from the doorway of their cabin, but also the sneers of Agent Ininna and Agent Yima, who lounged nonchalantly near the tunnel to dome two. He levelled his own glare at the bobbing headscarf of Ininna, who had turned to speak to her colleague, then gave a mournful glance at the main airlock as he passed. The Que Qiao agents, having arrived two days ago, had not bothered to secure the transport hangar, knowing full well that until the Sir Bedivere returned there was nowhere for the archaeologists to go. Yet the other thing the agents had not done was investigate. They had simply announced their presence, stopped all work, then settled into the domes and made themselves at home.

Agent Ininna�s sneer became a grimace upon seeing the archaeologist�s circular stomp head towards her and Yima once more. Govannon had quickly learned that while he could pace non-stop around the dome for hours if the mood took him, the irritable Ininna could watch and stay silent for three circuits at most.

�Govannon!� she snapped, once he was within earshot. �By the mighty Allah, will you please keep still! You�re giving me a headache.�

The archaeologist drew nearer, slowed to a halt and glared defiantly at the agents.

�You�re the headache around here,� he retorted. �Two days we�ve been cooped up with no answers, see? No one looking into Cadmus� death, no word from poor Ravana and none of us allowed out of your sight! How long are you planning to keep us here like this?�

�You are in no position to ask questions,� Ininna said flatly.

�What�s that supposed to mean?�

Yima scowled. �Until the investigation is complete you would be wise to cooperate.�

�Investigation, is it?� remarked Govannon. �You haven�t done a thing since you arrived other than frighten the students with this mean and moody charade. If you had, you would know none of us were here when Cadmus stupidly decided to crawl into that hole alone, see.� He saw Ininna�s scowl momentarily falter and wondered how far he could push her. �Why aren�t you doing anything? Are you waiting for some proper police officers from Aram to come and do the job properly?�

�Watch your mouth!� snarled Ininna.

Govannon smiled, sensing he had touched a nerve. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hestia emerge from the cabin and walk cautiously towards him with a mug in her hand. The girl�s fibre-optic tresses were a vibrant shade of crimson, which when Ininna was around was like waving a red rag to a bull.

�It�s funny how you turned up when you did. I�d only just unblocked the passage and found poor Cadmus,� he continued, challenging Ininna. The memory of what he had seen in the chamber remained fresh in his mind: the strange multi-limbed cocoon, dead giant spider and inexplicable cryogenic capsule, then finding the poor professor�s lifeless body under the rock fall. �If I were a suspicious man, I�d wonder if your superiors already knew what Cadmus was up to and were playing you like puppets on a string, see.�

�Do you want to be locked in your quarters?� asked Ininna fiercely. �Because I am more than happy to do so if it means not having to listen to you anymore.�

Seeing Hestia approach, the agent scowled and fell silent. The student, keeping her gaze averted from the agents, went straight to Govannon and handed him the mug.

�We thought you might like some tea,� Hestia murmured.

Govannon managed a smile and took the offered drink. �Thank you.�

�Is it not an English tradition to offer tea to visitors?� asked Yima, eyeing the mug.

�I�m Welsh!� snapped Govannon. �And visitors does not include unwelcome guests.�

�Would you like some?� Hestia asked Yima cautiously. �I�m afraid I can�t offer you any biscuits. Xuthus finished the last packet as a midnight snack, the greedy pig.�

�Tea?� asked Yima. �I wouldn�t say no.�

�Thirsty work, is it?� asked Govannon. �Standing around, doing nothing?�

�Kedesh gave us some cake,� Yima reminded Ininna, missing Govannon�s sarcasm. �That would go down well with a hot brew. Shall I go and get it?�

�We�re not here for tea and cake!� said Ininna, irritably.

�There�s not much else to do,� Yima retorted. �Why aren�t we looking into the professor�s death? We should at least see for ourselves what�s inside that alien temple.�

�It is not a temple!� cried Govannon and sighed. �Never mind.�

�Ravana is also still missing,� Hestia reminded them.

�Official investigators are on their way,� Ininna replied to Yima, somewhat sulkily.

�We have forensic equipment here, as I�m sure you do too,� said Hestia. �Doctor Jones is a proper archaeologist and knows how to use stuff like that. We all want to know what happened to Professor Cadmus and Ravana. We could help you find out.�

Govannon gave Hestia a sly smile. Offering to help the agents was not an approach that had crossed his mind. He could see Hestia had Ininna and Yima confused, which as far as he was concerned was a result in itself.

�If I was in your position,� Hestia continued, scratching her cheek in an absent-minded fashion, �I�d want to find out as much as I could beforehand so I did not look stupid when your official investigators arrive. Are you sure someone is coming?�

�Eventually,� mumbled Yima.

�Don�t try any tricky mind games with us,� said Ininna, glaring at Hestia. �Nobody here is doing anything unless I say so.�

�We are well aware of that,� said Govannon. �We have a man dead and a young girl missing, see? All you have done is shut down a legitimate excavation and treat everyone like suspects. You would have to order us to help you before we even considered it.�

�Security on Falsafah is a Que Qiao matter and we decide what is legitimate or not!� Ininna retorted. �In case you had forgotten, this expedition is funded by Que Qiao.�

�Is it?� asked Hestia, surprised.

�Cadmus was on their Alien Encounters Board,� murmured Govannon.

�We�re getting off the point,� snapped Ininna. �You have no rights here.�

�We order you to help us investigate!� declared Yima.

Govannon smirked as a seething glare shot from Ininna to a suddenly red-faced Yima. Ininna turned her venomous stare towards the archaeologist. To his relief, her fiery temper collapsed into a weary, exasperated sigh and crumbled before his eyes.

�Very clever,� she said. �Fine, let�s do this.�

�Our investigation,� Yima said firmly. �Not yours.�

�I wouldn�t dare take away your glory,� Govannon declared solemnly.

�Me neither,� said Hestia, then grinned. �But did you mention cake?�

Zotz placed his screwdriver upon the bar, reached to the back of the humanoid robot�s head and flicked its power switch to the �on� position. Quirinus and Momus had left him to his own devices whilst they scoured the deserted depot for clues to Ravana�s whereabouts. As the long Falsafah night wore on, Zotz gravitated towards Morrigan�s Bar and its battered mechanical bar steward. His initial conversation with the robot left him in no doubt it had been tampered with, whereupon he had used more prosaic devices from his portable toolkit to find and remove the AI bypass module fitted by some unknown saboteur.

He heard a reassuring gentle hum from the robot and settled back to see whether his repairs were successful. Beside him, Ravana�s electric cat sat upon the bar top and chewed thoughtfully upon the removed circuit board. The bar steward�s eyes lit up and with a faint metallic groan swivelled its head towards the seated Zotz.

�Welcome to Morrigan�s Bar,� it said. �Would you care for a drink, sir?

�What have you got?� asked Zotz.

�I am able to serve all the usual hot and cold beverages from reconstituted powdered sources,� the robot informed him. �Alternative products are available from the molecularisor in the transit lounge. I am unable to offer you micro-brewery products as your juvenile stature and voice pattern suggest you are not yet of the legal age to be served alcohol.�

�Are you saying I�m short and have a squeaky voice?�

�My intention was not to cause offence, sir.�

Zotz heard a distant yell and guessed Momus had found yet another dead rat amidst the stacked equipment and shipping containers. Quirinus poked his head from the door of the nearby habitation module, stared across the dome in the direction of Momus� cry, shook his head and disappeared back inside. Zotz had asked the bar steward about Ravana before he switched it off to do repairs but to no avail. He decided to pose the question again.

�They�re looking for Ravana,� he told the robot. �Do you remember seeing her here?�

�Would you like an orange juice, sir?�

�She was with the archaeologists,� said Zotz. �One of the students.�

�I can add ice and a little umbrella if that is to your liking,� the robot offered.

�I don�t want a drink! I want to know about Ravana. Was she here?�

�I have no memory of a person by that name. Doctor Jones and an unknown male were here four days ago. They were the last people to visit this establishment.�

�So you do remember things,� mused Zotz. Four days had passed since Quirinus learned Ravana never arrived to meet the Sir Bedivere, but he recalled from conversations back on the Dandridge Cole that the rest of the expedition assumed she returned to Ascension on the previous flight, a fortnight before. �What about previous visits?�

�Doctor Jones was here eighteen days ago,� the robot confirmed. �The unnamed male also came to Morrigan�s Bar that day but at a different time. He was with a young female.�

�A girl?� Zotz exclaimed. He dropped his voice to an excited whisper. �Taller than me, with dark hair, brown skin and a scar on her face?�

�Your limited description concurs with the visual image in my records, sir.�

�That was Ravana!� cried Zotz. �Where did she go?�

A sudden crash made him jump. Zotz�s exchange with the unsuspecting mechanical bar steward had reached Quirinus� ears and at the mention of Ravana�s name, the pilot leapt from the cabin and rushed to the bar, knocking over a crate of engine spares on the way. He was not usually so clumsy but the heavier gravity of Falsafah compared to that of Ascension, especially after two days in deep space, was taking them all a while to get used to.

�Where is she?� Quirinus demanded breathlessly, facing the robot�s blank stare. �Come on, you lanky strip of rivets, tell me! You must have seen where she went!�

�I do not have the information you require.�

�You have eyes and a memory!� retorted Quirinus. �Tell me!�

The robot shuffled closer. �Would you care for a drink, sir?�

Quirinus grabbed hold of the bar steward�s neck in exasperation and tried to throttle it into submission. The robot at first appeared blissfully unaware of what was happening, then all of a sudden the light in its eyes died and it slipped lifelessly out of the pilot�s grasp to land face down upon the bar. Ravana�s cat leapt away in alarm.

�I think you knocked the power switch,� Zotz said cautiously.

�Dratted thing,� muttered Quirinus. �Do you reckon it knows anything useful?�

Zotz scratched his head. �Whoever programmed it left things pretty basic. I don�t think it can do much more than take orders for drinks.�

�You�ve still done better than we have. There�s no security cameras in the depot and I�ve yet to make sense of the system data logs,� replied Quirinus, looking glum. �We�ve searched the dome at least twice. There�s no transport in the hangar to get us to the dig, no one listening on the short-range transceiver and not a living soul in sight! I can�t believe we�ve come all this way just to find a dead end.�

Zotz solemnly digested Quirinus� growing frustration. They were interrupted by the arrival of Momus, who was covered in grime and scowling more than usual. His grimace deepened when he saw the prone body of the bar steward.

�I was looking forward to a nice cold lager when we finished,� he grumbled.

�Did you find anything?� asked Zotz.

Momus frowned. �No.�

�Then we haven�t finished,� Quirinus retorted. �Ravana was here. There must be some clue as to where she is now. There has to be!�

Momus put a friendly hand to Quirinus� shoulder and sighed when the pilot shrugged it away. Zotz was surprised to see Momus� expression soften until it almost became a smile. This was the closest he had ever seen him looking kindly and sympathetic.

�We will find her,� Momus reassured Quirinus. �But I�m guessing I�m not the only one who�s tired and frigging starving. Once we�re fit, we�ll do a bit of reconnaissance in that crappy freighter of yours, find this dig and see if there�s any chance of landing a bit closer. I don�t fancy traipsing all that way on foot just to find another bloody empty dome.�

�You�d walk across that desert to find my girl?�

�If it came to it.�

�My dear Momus,� said Quirinus. �I�m almost glad I brought you along after all.�

The aged food molecularisor in the transit lounge was a bulky frontier model with half its nutrient cartridges missing, but Momus nevertheless managed to coax a decent spread from its output tray before Quirinus and Zotz retired to the habitation module to get some sleep. Momus surprised them again by offering to keep watch whilst the pilot and his young charge rested, pointing out that Quirinus had been at the helm of the Platypus most of the way and had not rested once since landing. The heavier gravity aside, it had been a tiring day all round and Quirinus had to agree that he could not have stayed awake if he tried.

Several hours later, a thump on the wall of the cabin woke Quirinus from his slumber. It turned out to be from Momus� head, who had fallen over outside whilst trying to remove his boots. Quirinus found his hired pilot swaying unsteadily in the doorway of the cabin, suspiciously wobbly on his feet, though that particular mystery was solved by the sight of the bar steward busily tidying away a stack of empty tumblers from the bar.

�Nothing to report,� slurred Momus. He burped and gave a lopsided grin. �All quiet on the Falsafah front, Captain Quirinus, sir.�

�Go to bed,� Quirinus hissed irritably. �And do it quietly! Zotz is still asleep.�

Leaving Momus to stumble into the cabin, Quirinus made his way across the dome and up the short tunnel to the transit lounge. The dull pink light of dawn was breaking and he went to a window to get his first proper view of the alien world outside. Beyond the Platypus on the apron at the side of the runway, the wind-pump tower and the fresh wheel tracks leading to the hangar, there was nothing to show that humans had ever trespassed upon the bleak monotony of the endless red dunes.

Quirinus paused, crossed to the window nearest the hangar and gave the tracks a puzzled stare. The twin gouges in the sand looked fresh and were still full of water where they ran near the leaking wind pump. The stiff breeze that had greeted them upon leaving the Platypus continued to bluster hard against the walls of the depot, yet that same wind had barely begun to obliterate tracks that at first he had assumed were several days old. Quirinus craned his neck to follow their trail to the bottom of the wind-pump tower and gave a low whistle of surprise. Parked almost out of sight, at the side of the depot�s dome, was a green six-wheeled personnel carrier that had definitely not been there before.

�Nothing to report!� he muttered. �Too drunk to notice a transport visiting in the dead of night, more like.�

The vehicle�s running lights were off. A tense minute of scrutiny revealed no sign of movement inside. His mind made up, Quirinus hurried to retrieve his survival suit from the rack next to the hangar door, left there after disembarking from the Platypus. He pulled on the suit and helmet, opened the door and was halfway across the hangar when an unexpected movement brought him to a surprised halt.

The mysterious transport was forgotten as he hastened towards the two wriggling and hooded human shapes lying upon the floor. Removing his helmet, he knelt by the first, pulled away the hood and gasped in shock at the furious and scowling features of a dark-haired young woman. Lifting the hood from the second, he gave a cry of disbelief, recognising the face beneath. The girl�s eyes, wild with fear, melted into relief at the sight of her rescuer. Both captives were gagged with tape and lay with their wrists and ankles bound by cords.

�Philyra!� Quirinus exclaimed. Putting down his helmet, he ripped the tape from the girl�s face. He did not remember her having purple hair. �It is you, isn�t it?�

�Yes!� shrieked Philyra. �I nearly suffocated under there!�

�Who�s your friend?� asked Quirinus. He pulled the tape from the other captive�s mouth and got to work untying their bonds, his mind whirling.

�Felicity Fornax!� the woman snapped. �Where the hell are we?�

�She�s a reporter,� added Philyra. �She got us into this mess.�

�You�re on Falsafah,� he told them, his hands busy with the knotted cables. �Arallu Depot, to be precise. Otherwise known as the middle of nowhere.�

He pulled free the last of Philyra�s bindings and moved to help Fornax. Philyra gave a whimper and began to massage her limbs to get the blood flowing again. By the time Quirinus had unfastened the cords securing the reporter�s ankles and wrists, Philyra had regained the use of her legs and was pacing nervously around the hangar.

�Do you know this man?� remarked Fornax.

�This is Captain Quirinus,� Philyra said proudly. �He took us to the Epsilon Eridani peace conference last year. His daughter Ravana is one of the students at the dig.�

�Enough about me,� Quirinus said impatiently. �Why are you here?�

�It�s all her fault,� Philyra said and glared at Fornax, still sat wearily on the floor. �She thought it would be a good idea to pretend to be Dhusarians so we could get on that ship. We were barely out of Ascension orbit when they realised we were fakes. They trussed us up to stop us escaping, then when we landed dumped us here.�

�Stop us escaping?� scoffed Fornax. �From a moving spaceship?�

�Dhusarians?� asked Quirinus, confused. �What ship?�

�Can we go somewhere a little more comfortable?� asked Fornax, climbing to her feet. �This place makes my hotel room look luxurious.�

�Of course,� said Quirinus. �Though the rest of the depot is not much better.�

He led them into the transit lounge, where Fornax promptly crashed into the nearest chair with a groan. Philyra continued to pace restlessly back and forth while Quirinus tried to persuade the food molecularisor to produce something comforting.

�Hot chocolate?� he said at last. He handed them each a plastic cup emanating sweet-smelling steam. �I couldn�t get it to serve tea.�

Fornax gave a grunt of thanks, tasted the bitter drink and scowled. Philyra looked equally unimpressed by the offering but was a little more gracious.

�Thanks,� she said. She turned to the window and looked across the concrete apron to the berthed Platypus. �Is that your ship? It looks different, somehow.�

�It�s a long story,� admitted Quirinus. �But you still haven�t told me yours.�

�I was in Newbrum doing a piece on the dig and chasing rumours of alien artefacts on the black market,� Fornax said wearily. �The trail led us to a ship owned by the Dhusarian Church, which we boarded and ended up here.�

�I�m her personal assistant,� Philyra added.

�That�s your freighter out there?� asked Fornax, eyeing Quirinus suspiciously. �It has smuggler written all over it. Doing a bit of black-market trading yourself?�

�I am looking for my daughter,� Quirinus replied frostily. �She went missing from the dig over two weeks ago.�

�Ravana�s gone missing?� Philyra�s face fell. �I�m so sorry. Can we help?�

�You can tell me if there�s anyone in that transport parked outside,� said Quirinus impatiently. �It�s a delight to meet you again, my dear Philyra, but you may have noticed that we�re nowhere near wherever the action is. If I am to steal someone else�s wheels, it would be nice to know if there�s anyone inside ready to object.�

�We had hoods over our heads,� Philyra reminded him. �I�ve no idea what happened between us landing here and you finding us. On the spaceship there was just the pilot and co-pilot, plus a couple of nasty-looking robots in crates. Didn�t you see anything? Surely you must have heard a spacecraft landing right next to the dome.�

�I was asleep,� Quirinus said irritably. �And I left an idiot on watch.�

�There are others here?� asked Fornax, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

�My co-pilot Momus,� he told them. �And Ravana�s friend Zotz.�

�Zotz is here?� remarked Philyra. �That�s cool.�

She sipped upon the sickly chocolate drink and gazed thoughtfully through the window. Fornax climbed to her feet and hobbled to the door through which they had come. Quirinus followed and saw that whoever had abandoned the reporter and Philyra in the hangar had also left behind what he assumed was their luggage. His mind whirled with unanswered questions and he was unwilling to let the subject drop.

�These Dhusarians,� said Quirinus. �What did their ship look like?�

�Some sort of personnel carrier,� Fornax told him. �A black flying wing.�

�Pretty much like that one,� said Philyra. Still at the window, she pointed towards an arrow-shaped blob high above the distant horizon. �Do you think they�re coming back?�

�What!� exclaimed Quirinus. �Where?�

He followed her outstretched finger, stared at the rapidly-approaching spacecraft and saw straight away he had very little time to investigate the vehicle outside. A few steps later he was back at the door to the hangar.

�I�m going to check that transport before they land,� he told Philyra and Fornax. �Go and wake the others. They�re in the cabin in the dome, near the bar.�

�Bar?� Fornax gave a wry smile. �Now you�re talking.�

Quirinus hurried to the hangar, recovered his helmet and in no time at all was through the airlock and stepping forward into the pink Falsafah dawn. The wheel ruts left by their night-time visitor followed the curve of the dome, away from the runway. Moving quickly, he skirted the growing pool of water at the base of the wind-pump tower and headed to the front of the stationary vehicle, his eyes peeled for any signs of movement on the other side of the windscreen. Seeing nothing, he circled the transport until he reached the airlock hatch at the rear and cautiously climbed the steps to the hatch.

The door control yielded no response, confirming his suspicion that the vehicle was empty and powered down. More surprising was the heavy lock and chain on the mechanical override lever, for it was against emergency safety protocols to prevent outside access to an airlock. As he glanced back towards the dome, wondering if he had time to collect cutting gear from the Platypus, he saw an angular black blur shoot down the runway and knew his chance had gone. Quirinus gave a deep sigh, waited for resultant mist upon his visor to clear and trod despondently back to the hangar.

By the time he reached the transit lounge, the newly-arrived spacecraft had pulled to a halt next to the Platypus, well away from the dome. Zotz, a bleary-eyed Momus and Ravana�s cat had joined Fornax and Philyra at the window. As they watched, the rear bulkhead between the flying-wing�s engines folded down to become a cargo ramp, at which point a spacesuit-clad figure emerged from a hatch at the front of the ship and walked to the rear.

Momus glanced at Quirinus. �Been for a walk? You choose your moments.�

Quirinus opened his mouth to chastise him for missing last night�s visit to the depot, then decided to leave that particular pleasure until later. Outside, the spacecraft disgorged a flat-bed trailer from its cargo hold, upon which was lashed some sort of bulky industrial machinery mounted upon caterpillar tracks. Once the trailer was a safe distance from the ship, the spacesuit-wearing supervisor walked away around the side of the dome.

�Is it the same ship?� asked Quirinus, placing his helmet upon a chair.

�The Atterberg Epiphany,� Fornax confirmed. �What are they doing?�

�That�s a road-laying machine,� said Zotz, pointing to the object on the trailer. �They had one at Newbrum spaceport to do runway repairs.�

Quirinus grinned. �I heard someone once tried to use it to lay a friend�s patio.�

�Frigging useless heap,� muttered Momus. �Took me a year to pay for the damage.�

�Aha!� said Fornax and smiled. �You�re that Momus.�

For a while the scene on the runway remained unchanged. Philyra extracted Ravana�s cat from the innards of the molecularisor and took the opportunity to see what the latter could produce by way of breakfast. Fornax refused the offer of a pseudo-bacon sandwich with a muttered remark about a cookery show. Zotz offered one to Ravana�s cat, which responded with a hiss before leaping off the window sill and through the open door to the hangar.

Quirinus was the first to spot the mysterious transport trundling across the dome�s forecourt towards the runway. As it neared the Atterberg Epiphany, the vehicle executed a sharp turn and reversed smartly up the ramp into the ship�s cargo bay. After a few minutes, the transport emerged once more, this time heading straight for the dome.

�Dropping off passengers?� suggested Zotz, his mouth full of sandwich.

�Or coming to collect those left behind,� mused Quirinus, with a glance towards Fornax and Philyra. �A truckload of angry Dhusarians. What joy.�

�Shouldn�t we hide?� Philyra said nervously.

�They know we�re here,� Momus pointed out, sounding weary. �There�s a crappy purple and white tin can parked outside that couldn�t possibly belong to anyone else.�

�Do you want to float home?� asked Quirinus, annoyed.

A loud thud suddenly echoed from the hangar, followed by the rattle of a compressor as the airlock pressurised. Quirinus put a finger to his lips and crept towards the open door, then glanced back to see everyone else cowering at the far end of the lounge. With a frown, he decided in favour of caution and pulled the door across so it was almost closed.

There was a second clunk. He peered through the gap and saw the inner airlock door slide open to reveal the rear end of the transport. He expected it to reverse onwards into the chamber, but instead the vehicle�s hatch opened and a stout figure, wearing a grey habit and headscarf, backed through the opening and down the steps. By the time the passenger stepped clear, the hatch had sealed and the hangar airlock door was sliding shut once more. Quirinus caught a glimpse of Ravana�s cat scooting through into the closing airlock and groaned.

�What�s happening?� hissed Fornax.

�They�ve dropped one person off, but it looks like the transport is leaving again,� Quirinus whispered. The figure in the hangar had yet to turn around. He quietly closed the door and tapped a command into the control panel on the wall.

�You�ve locked the door,� observed Momus. �Who�s out there?�

�Some woman,� Quirinus replied. �I couldn�t see her face. She looks like a nun.�

�A Dhusarian nun?� remarked Fornax. �There�s a novelty.�

�This is from the fake Sister Gabriel,� scoffed Philyra.

The transport was back on the runway. Quirinus returned to the window and watched the vehicle reverse to the parked machinery and hitch itself to the trailer. With the cargo in tow, the transport pulled away from the runway, around the side of the dome and out of sight. The Atterberg Epiphany stood silent on the deserted airstrip.

�Where are they frigging going with all that?� asked Momus.

�Where do you think?� retorted Fornax. �The excavation, of course.�

Zotz noticed the empty window sill. �What happened to Ravana�s cat?�

Quirinus frowned and wondered if he could justify sending Momus out to chase an errant electric cat. A thump of footsteps from the hangar reminded him they had a visitor. Moving cautiously, he stepped to the doorway, released the lock and opened the door.

He stared in dismay at the portly middle-aged Indian woman standing beyond.

�You!� he exclaimed. �What the hell are you doing here?�

It took a great deal of effort to unclench the fist he had subconsciously formed. The woman gave a sly smile and lifted her hands to show him a wriggling live rat. Her grip tightened, then with a twist and crack of bones the creature struggled no more.

�Quirinus O�Brien,� she said gaily. �After all these years!�

�Mallika Jizo,� he growled, eyeing her coldly. �What an unexpected displeasure.�

�You know her?� asked Fornax, somewhat perturbed by the newly-deceased rat.

�The nurse who cried wolf,� said Quirinus. �Only now there�s no Taranis to run to.�

Xuthus sighed. His eye was upon the crack in the door, which was open just enough for him to watch what was happening outside the students� habitation cabin. Govannon and Yima had spent the day exploring the mysterious star chamber. Ininna, after a nervous look at the dark opening in the trench, opted instead to keep watch in their absence and had ordered Xuthus, Urania and Hestia to their quarters until further notice. The men emerged barely an hour ago but no one had come to tell them what they had found. With nothing to do and nowhere to go, Urania and Hestia had drawn the curtains against the brightly-lit dome outside and retired to bed, leaving Xuthus alone, frustrated and bored.

Govannon and Yima had gone into dome two with a wheelbarrow full of biochemical lamp units, a large white bag Ininna fetched from their transport and a holovid camera to record whatever they saw. When Xuthus saw them return, the wheelbarrow bore a long white shape, which the men solemnly carried to a quiet corner behind the neighbouring cabin. It was an inglorious end to Professor Cadmus� final investigation.

�It�s not fair,� Xuthus muttered.

�What isn�t fair?�

Xuthus jumped and stifled a cry, caught unawares by the voice in his ear. Hestia was big and often clumsy, but could move surprisingly quietly when she wanted to. He turned to find her peering over his shoulder at the scene beyond the gap in the door.

�What�s not fair?� she repeated, whispering. �Cadmus being killed like that?�

�Err� yes,� Xuthus lied, his voice hushed. �It�s very sad.�

�Xuthus is upset because Govannon wouldn�t let him go with them,� said Urania, emerging from the shadows of the sleeping area behind them. �Why are you both whispering like that?�

�I thought you two were asleep,� grumbled Xuthus.

�It�s a bit difficult with you stomping around,� Urania retorted.

�Hestia was snoring.�

�I do not snore!� snapped Hestia. �I just breathe loudly.�

Urania joined them at the door and together they watched Govannon walk to the neighbouring cabin and step inside. Ininna and Yima stood in the walkway tunnel to dome two, conversing quietly amongst themselves, then Ininna broke away and walked past the cabins towards the hangar. The lights in the dome roof faded into darkness, leaving just the dim glow of Tau Ceti through the translucent roof to illuminate the scene. Yima yawned, settled down and made himself comfortable upon a rug in the entrance to dome two.

�It looks like everyone�s turning in for the night,� murmured Urania. She glanced at her wristpad. �It�s only seven o�clock!�

Hestia gently pushed Xuthus aside and opened the door. An eerie hush had fallen upon the excavation, for all that could be heard was the hum of life support and the faint hiss of wind-borne sand against the dome. Hestia glanced at Xuthus and Urania, stepped out of the cabin and hesitantly looked around.

�Hestia!� Xuthus whispered urgently. �What are you doing?�

�I need to visit the poop-mobile!�

Xuthus smirked. She stuck her tongue out at him and quietly slipped into the gloom. Going to the toilet had become an obstacle course, for the arrival of the agents� transport had left little room for manoeuvre inside the cramped hangar.

Hestia was not gone long. Upon her return, instead of coming straight back, Xuthus and Urania were startled to see her creep towards the prone figure of Yima. The girl scrutinised him for several tense moments, then returned to the cabin.

�He�s fast asleep,� Hestia told them, stepping through the door. �The other one is in their transport. It sounded like she was using the transceiver to call someone.�

�What are you suggesting?� asked Xuthus. He had seen the glint in her eye.

�You�re not the only one who wants to see what�s inside that chamber,� Hestia said, grinning mischievously. �This is our chance!�

�You can�t be serious!� Urania looked perturbed. �We can�t go down there alone! Aberystwyth would give us hell if we�re caught.�

�Then we make sure we don�t get caught!� Hestia replied. �Who�s with me?�

Xuthus hesitated, then nodded. Urania did not look so convinced, but after watching Hestia and Xuthus as they eagerly pulled on their work boots and equipped themselves with torches she was ready to join them. Moving silently, they filed out of the cabin and made their way across the dome to the sleeping Yima. The agent lay curled upon the blanket, murmuring quietly to himself and lost in a dream.

�Bless,� murmured Urania. �He looks so sweet.�

�Shush!� Hestia whispered.

Yima twitched and gave a grunt. Xuthus responded with a muted yelp of alarm, but the agent remained fast asleep. Hestia put a finger to her lips, stepped carefully past the prone figure and led them into dome two. Soon they were at the edge of the trench, above the glass-brick archway, staring wide-eyed at the ragged hole smashed through what indeed had proved to be a door. The darkness beyond was tempered by the dim green glow of the biochemical lamps left inside the tunnel. The passageway looked distinctly sinister.

�Are you really sure about this?� asked Urania, hesitating.

�I�m sure if Xuthus is,� Hestia said coyly.

Xuthus nodded. �We may never get to see what�s down there otherwise.�

This time he took the lead. Brushing past Hestia, he descended the ladder to the bottom of the trench and walked to where the parallel glass walls rose from the sand. The mattock used by Cadmus still lay where it had been dropped by the breached archway. Behind, Hestia and Urania paused to shine their torch beams upon the curious symbols etched into the wall. Xuthus gave a cursory glance over his shoulder, ducked defiantly into the hole and shuffled into the tunnel beyond.

�Hey!� hissed Urania. �Wait for us!�

Xuthus waited for them to catch up, then led the way past the first of the green lamps into the labyrinth. The air tasted of dust and he felt the heat rising with every step he took. After several minutes of walking it occurred to him that they had forgotten to bring oxygen masks, but no one was lying on the floor gasping for breath so he assumed life support in the domes had filled the labyrinth with air.

�Have you noticed the way the passages are angled?� asked Hestia. They had come to yet another tight corner. �We�re following the walls of the star chamber. This maze is set out like a six-pointed star, with us spiralling towards the centre.�

�Just like the sign of the Dhusarian Church,� Xuthus said smugly.

�Or the Star of David,� Urania pointed out. �I think Freemasons use it too. And please don�t refer to it as a maze. People get lost in mazes.�

�We�ll be okay if we follow the lamps,� he reassured her, though he too had seen the other tunnels branching off into the dark.

The thrill of adventure waned and became tiring as they traipsed from one green lamp to the next through one featureless tunnel after another. The occasional downward slope did little to relieve the monotony and it was a while before they noticed how the straight sections got shorter as the roof rose higher. After what seemed an age, they turned a final corner and came to a rubble-strewn archway. The floor glittered with shards of glass, amidst which was a cluster of scrape marks where something long and heavy had been pulled from beneath a pile of fallen masonry. Hestia came to Xuthus� side and gulped.

�A rock fall,� she murmured. �This must be where Professor Cadmus, err��

�Was squashed?� suggested Urania. �Bit the dust?�

�Don�t be horrible!� retorted Hestia.

The passage was narrow, humid and heavy with a cloying darkness that swallowed the light of their lanterns. Hestia got to work throwing aside the chunks of rubble Yima and Govannon had placed across the floor in a feeble attempt to block the bomb-damaged arch. The sight of Cadmus� oxygen mask lying nearby dampened Xuthus� eagerness to see what treasures lay in the chamber beyond. Hestia�s analysis of how the wall came to collapse on top of the professor only added to the general air of discomfort.

�An explosive charge,� she declared, peering at a fresh gouge in the archway. �Some sort of booby-trap, maybe?�

�A bomb!� exclaimed Urania. �Who would do that? And how? This place was sealed until Cadmus took a mattock to the door and he was the only one left in the dome.�

�You said �door�,� mused Hestia. �Govannon said it was a volcanic vent.�

�This temple or tomb or whatever was clearly built by someone,� retorted Urania. �That doesn�t mean Cadmus was right about his ancient aliens, though.�

�Aliens!� echoed Xuthus.

Hestia wiped her hands on her overalls. �Shall we take a look?�

Xuthus nodded. He swung his torch beam towards the arch and followed Hestia through into the chamber beyond, Urania close behind.

A few steps later he hesitated, his eyes wide. Ahead, their lamps had found a strange shape in the gloom. A huge egg-shaped cocoon, resting serenely in a dark pool.

�What is that thing?� he murmured.

He was in no doubt it was alien. The weird cocoon appeared more biological than mechanical, though it was hard to tell if it was the remains of a long-dead creature or something wholly artificial. There were patches where mottled green skin had decayed to brown and the insect-like spindly legs sprouting from the top gave the impression it may have once been ready to walk away. Xuthus approached the end of the tongue-like protuberance and shone torchlight into the oval opening, half-expecting to see teeth or rotting innards to prove it had once been alive, but the cavity was oddly featureless. The cocoon discomforted him further due to its resemblance to the level-four aliens in his favourite holovid game, which had the annoying habit of scuttling after heroic marines and shooting them with webs of fire. The floor quivered beneath his feet, mirroring his own trembling fear.

Hestia shrieked. Xuthus hastened around the sentry-like grey rods towards her and shuddered as he too saw the mangled giant spider embedded in the floor. Urania gave an irritable frown, herself transfixed by something lying on the far side of the dark pool.

�Weird,� she muttered and beckoned to Xuthus. �Come and look at this.�

Xuthus cautiously went to where Urania stood. He was momentarily puzzled by the pale coffin-sized shape, then yelped in surprise. The smooth capsule wore the faded red, white and blue of the stars and stripes of his home country.

�But that�s�� he began, but could not finish his sentence.

�An American cryogenic capsule,� confirmed Urania. �But how?�

Hestia came to their side and gazed at the white shape for what seemed an age. Xuthus� mind whirled. All their earlier talk of aliens had not led him to expect this, a modern relic of the space age in such an ancient and bewildering setting.

�So you Americans got here first,� muttered Urania. �Typical.�

Xuthus opened his mouth to reply, but was lost for words. Govannon and Yima must have seen the capsule during their earlier visit to recover Cadmus� body, which perhaps explained their unwillingness to talk. As they stood and stared, he found his brain reluctant to engage with what was before them; in the eyes of a student archaeologist, it was akin to finding a food molecularisor buried beneath the sarsens of Stonehenge.

�Did you see that old oxygen tank we found?� asked Hestia. �Govannon and I unearthed it near the entrance. I reckon someone�s dug here before.�

�I saw it,� murmured Urania. �But this capsule is ancient in comparison. The only one I�ve seen before was in the museum at the new G�vea Planetarium in Rio.�

�Cryogenic capsules were used on the failed mission to Alpha Centauri,� Xuthus said, awestruck. �The USS Constellation, which was years before the Edward Everett Hale. I did a project on it at school,� he explained, seeing their mystified looks. �The Constellation disappeared without trace and cryogenic capsules were never used again.�

�You are so clever!� said Hestia. �But that would make it a hundred years old!�

�More like a hundred and fifty,� Urania told her, sounding doubtful.

�Do you think we sent a ship to Tau Ceti all those years ago?� suggested Xuthus, suddenly excited by the prospect. �Were Americans the first to reach Falsafah?�

�Maybe the Constellation got lost in space and ended up here,� mused Hestia.

�They would have to be very lost to end up at Tau Ceti,� Urania retorted scornfully. �Alpha Centauri is in the totally opposite direction from Earth.�

�How about time travel?� offered Hestia. �If it�s not from the Constellation, perhaps it was sent here by top-secret time-travelling archaeologists!�

�Time travel is impossible,� said Xuthus, irritated by Hestia�s enthusiasm.

�What about the dead giant spider?� she asked. She sounded peeved that no one was taking her seriously. �I think someone�s been here before and taken samples.�

Xuthus frowned. His glance at the spider had been enough to see the curious incisions in its desiccated flesh. The idea of time travel was tantalising; the capsule itself exuded a fragility that suggested it could have lain hidden for thousands rather than hundreds of years. Urania was carefully recording the scene with her wristpad�s holovid camera. She caught his gaze, lowered her arm and gave him a sneering look.

�You two are so stupid,� she said, exasperated. �Can�t you see the bigger picture? You�re quibbling over some old capsule and ignoring the fact we have a massive alien egg on legs and a huge dead spider at the bottom of a labyrinth on an equally dead planet. This is the find of the century! The millennium! Here is proof of an ancient alien civilisation! No wonder those agents were told not to do anything until their experts arrived.�

�Civilisation?� Xuthus frowned, well aware of Govannon�s thoughts on the subject. �This is two weird corpses or whatever at the bottom of a pit. The capsule is human.�

�Weird?� remarked Urania. �That�s the understatement of the year.�

�What do you think?� Hestia asked Xuthus, fluttering her eyelashes.

�If it is an alien tomb we�ll be in the history books,� murmured Xuthus.

�Like the people who find Egyptian mummies,� mused Hestia. A look of horror crept across her face. �Do you think there�s anyone inside? Frozen, I mean.�

Xuthus gulped. Keeping his eyes on the capsule, he nervously backed away until he came up against one of the upright rods. The expressions of Hestia and Urania were enough to tell him he was not the only one who suddenly found himself stifled by the atmosphere inside the chamber. Hestia retreated towards the archway, followed by Urania. Xuthus put a hand behind his back to feel his way past the grey rod. His prying fingers came across a small indentation in the smooth pillar and before he knew what he was doing, a fingertip squeezed the membrane within the hollow.

A low groan echoed across the chamber. Xuthus felt the rod slip through his hand and he leapt away with a shout of fright. All twelve rods rose in silent unison, silhouetted against pin-pricks of pale blue light that now appeared on the walls like stars at dusk. Suddenly, the chamber shuddered to the sound of another deep grumble and the ground at his feet promptly blistered to release puffs of cold air through the floor itself. The strange cocoon trembled, cracked and began to disintegrate before his eyes.

Hestia and Urania shrieked in alarm. Startled, Xuthus gave another yell and ran to the arch. He glanced back just in time to see the ancient cocoon collapse amidst a tumble of splintering legs.

�What�s happening?� screamed Hestia. �What have you done?!�

�I didn�t touch anything!� Xuthus protested, knowing it was a lie. �Run!�

Hestia and Urania did not need to be told twice. Xuthus led the way, sprinting like a maniac into the labyrinth. The rumbling and tremors shook clouds of dust from the ceiling and stirred the biochemical fluids of the lamps, making them flicker. They raced past one stuttering green glow to the next, as fast as their pounding hearts would allow. Xuthus almost cried with relief when he finally spied the light of the shattered archway ahead and burst through the hole into the trench like a plasma bolt from a gun. Urania was right behind, a wheezing Hestia a distant third.

Xuthus put a hand to the ladder, but his weary legs had other ideas and he collapsed into an untidy heap on the floor. It was not until he saw the gathered faces peering into the trench from above that he realised the dome lights were back on. Urania staggered to a halt next to him and warily regarded the scene that greeted them.

Doctor Jones, Agent Ininna and Agent Yima stood with hands on their heads, looking subdued before two clunky military androids armed with rifles. With them was a thin Indian woman, wearing a grey cloak and headscarf, whom Xuthus had not seen before and who seemed most displeased to meet him now. Behind her stood two robed figures, their faces hidden in the shadows of their hoods, who did not move nor make a sound but nonetheless exuded an aura of quiet rage.

�What�s going on?� Xuthus asked, his voice wavering.

He cautiously clambered to his feet. Behind him, Hestia emerged from the archway, wheezing heavily. The tremors had ceased but a nearby equipment cabinet had toppled and one of the trench walls had collapsed. Xuthus looked around the dome and saw that the airtight door to the east, previously sealed on the sensible grounds there was nothing but inhospitable desert on the other side, was now wide open to reveal the interior of a tubular walkway, linked to the hatch of a transport parked outside. Two figures in dark flight suits were erecting what looked like a tent near the dome wall and making a mess of a carefully-cleaned trench. Confused, Xuthus shifted his gaze back to Govannon.

�This is Lilith and err� friends,� said the archaeologist. �Aren�t we popular?�

The Indian woman pushed him aside and stared frostily at Xuthus, Hestia and Urania.

�This holy ground is now in the hands of the brothers of the Dhusarian Church,� Lilith declared. �You will not meddle in our affairs a moment longer!�

Quirinus was aboard the berthed Platypus when he felt the first tremors. Engrossed in a holovid message Ostara had sent from Newbrum, his first reaction was to look through the flight-deck windows at the nearby Atterberg Epiphany, convinced the disturbance was the ship firing its engines ready to depart. Yet as the rumbling continued he realised it came from deep within the planet, then watched in alarm as the nearby wind-pump tower slowly keeled over and collapsed. When the tremors eventually subsided, he saw a distant glint of sunlight upon running water and guessed the leak from the well had become terminal.

�Ship, what was that?� he asked, pausing the holovid replay. �An earthquake?�

�Detectors registered seismic activity in the area,� the AI replied. �The initial shock wave originated approximately two hundred kilometres north of our present location. The cause of the disturbance is unknown.�

With a sigh, Quirinus returned his attention to Ostara�s report. It was brief but informative; she had attached the recording made at the Broad Street church, giving him his first glimpse of Taranis� alien cyberclones, but the words of the sermon were lost beneath the muted gasps and whispers of herself and Endymion. Yet it was Ostara�s tale of how she and Endymion had caught Bellona searching through Ravana�s things for the Isa-Sastra that concerned him, for he suspected it had something to do with Jizo being on Falsafah. Back on Yuanshi, the nurse had been far too close to Taranis for Quirinus� liking.

He quickly recorded a couple of brief messages, one for Ostara and another to Wak on the Dandridge Cole, then used the ship�s transceiver to send them on their way. Once that was done, he again tried to raise the archaeologists on the short-range system, but as before there was no reply. The radio silence from the dig was worrying.

�Ship, have you managed to link with the depot�s system?� he asked. He had failed to crack the local database, despite Zotz�s help. �Remote access to the ship�s transceiver would be useful, too. It would save me having to put on a spacesuit to make a call.�

�Arallu Depot�s data network is coded to secure police channels. I have been granted access to ground crew maintenance and refuelling sub-systems only,� the computer replied. �I can maintain a ship-to-shore link via your wristpad.�

�Yes, that�s fine,� grumbled Quirinus, who hated doing anything complicated on his wristpad�s tiny screen. �Do the same for all registered crew and send regular updates.�

�Confirmed,� said the AI.

Quirinus put on his helmet, slipped through the floor hatch into the pod bay and dropped clumsily onto the runway. One brisk walk later, he was back in the depot�s hangar and shedding his survival suit. He was ready for another battle of wills with Jizo.

Quirinus found Momus waiting for him at Morrigan�s Bar, standing next to where Jizo was perched on the end stool, her wrists and ankles secured with tape. Zotz, Philyra and a sulky-looking Fornax were sat on top of an upturned crate in front of the nearby habitation cabin, peering at the screen of Zotz�s wristpad. Ravana�s runaway cat was broadcasting a live holovid feed, but Quirinus could tell from the bemused expressions of those watching the footage that they still had no idea where the electric pet actually was.

�She had this on her,� Momus said, as Quirinus approached. He showed him a flask. �Nothing else of interest. I reckon she�s a spy.�

Quirinus took the stool next to Jizo. �Is she ready to talk?�

�Talk?� Jizo gave him a smug, self-satisfied smile. �What about?�

�Don�t play games with me! What have you done with Ravana?� asked Quirinus. He scowled as Momus reached to switch on the robot bar steward. �Leave that thing alone!�

�I want a frigging beer,� said Momus. �Nothing else to do, is there?�

The robot shuddered and its eyes began to glow. �Would you like a drink, sir?�

�Lager,� declared Momus. �Ice cold.�

�Can I have one?� asked Jizo.

�No, you can�t!� snapped Quirinus. �Answer my question!�

�Ravana?� the nurse replied, acting surprised. �The church has a mission on Falsafah. My duty is to lead the disciples who come from afar to stop the desecration of holy lands.�

�Who is this woman?� asked Momus. He picked up the tumbler the robot placed before him, took a long sip and grinned. Quirinus saw Jizo staring and licking her lips. �Wow, that�s frigging good stuff. Brewed on the premises, eh?�

�Yes sir,� said the robot. �I am pleased it meets with your approval.�

�Jizo was a nurse at Lanka hospital, back when Ravana and I lived on Yuanshi,� Quirinus said irritably, in an attempt to get the conversation back on track. �She was on duty the night they brought in the wounded from the Aranya Pass massacre. Jizo came to treat Ravana and realised she was the child Taranis had years ago made plans for in secret, against our will. Jizo told Taranis and we were forced into hiding. She sold us out.�

�Actually, it was Fenris who saw your daughter,� Jizo remarked. �But he could not make up his mind about what to do, so I went to Taranis and took all the credit.�

�Taranis?� asked Momus. �Who the bloody hell is he?�

�Our beloved father!� announced Jizo. �The founder of the Dhusarian Church!�

�Oh, that crappy nutcase,� mused Momus. �Isn�t he dead?�

�I did hope so,� Quirinus admitted. �Yet I�ve received a holovid that shows some of his entourage in Newbrum, preaching about some stupid prophecy of Falsafah. Would you care to comment?� he added icily, looking at Jizo.

�I object to this man�s description of our exalted priest!� she declared.

Exasperated, Quirinus opened his mouth to argue and paused. Jizo trembled, not with fear but anticipation, for her gaze had not moved from the drink in Momus� hand. Quirinus saw her tongue again run across her lips and he smiled wryly.

�Bar steward!� he called. �A beer for our guest!�

�What?� exclaimed Momus and Jizo in unison.

�At once sir,� replied the robot.

Jizo tugged at her bonds, mesmerised by the automated bar tender as it poured a schooner of lager and deposited it before her. Condensation formed on the glass.

�Where is Ravana?� Quirinus asked her gently. �That�s all I want to know.�

�Untie my wrists,� she murmured.

�Tell me about my daughter!�

�I will tell you what I know,� replied Jizo coolly, �when my hands are free.�

Quirinus gestured to Momus to undo the bindings securing the nurse�s wrists. No sooner were her hands free when a brown blur shot towards his face and poked him squarely in the centre of his eye patch.

�Ow!� cried Quirinus. �You little piece of�!�

�That�s for being rude about Taranis,� Jizo said smartly, reaching for her beer.

�It was Momus who called him a crappy nutcase!�

�You didn�t disagree with him,� she pointed out. Putting the tumbler to her lips, she took a long, slow sip and gave a satisfied burp. �That is good beer!� she agreed, addressing Momus. She turned back to Quirinus. �Where were we?�

�I was just deciding which of your eyes to poke in return,� he grumbled.

�Be thankful I didn�t go for your good one,� she retorted, then shrieked as Quirinus snatched the drink from her hands. �Give that back!�

�Tell me about Ravana!� Quirinus roared angrily. �Or I�ll shove this where��

�Fine!� interrupted Jizo. She gazed longingly at the drink in Quirinus� grip and sighed. �I was rewarded for my loyalty on the night you described. I am one of a select few, chosen to guide the twelve along paths Taranis has foreseen. We did not expect to find Ravana with the archaeologists. Your daughter was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.�

Quirinus frowned. �But the dig has something to do with it all?�

�Oh yes,� she replied. �Great things are afoot. And Ravana knows too much.�

�Where is she?� pleaded Quirinus. �What have you done with my little girl?�

�We had her brought to us,� Jizo replied simply. �Then she escaped.�

�Escaped?�

�There�s nowhere to frigging escape to on this crappy planet,� said Momus.

�Thanks,� muttered Quirinus. �You�re not helping.�

Jizo smiled and eyed the tumbler in Quirinus� hands. �My mind needs lubrication,� she hinted. �Talking to you is such thirsty work.�

Quirinus glowered and shoved the drink back across the bar. Jizo grabbed it with both hands and took a long sip, holding the tumbler tight.

�Well?� Quirinus snapped.

�She stole a transport and crashed in the desert,� the nurse replied flatly. She grinned at Quirinus� look of alarm. �Don�t worry! An acquaintance of ours happened to be following and Ravana is quite safe. My friends in that fancy spaceship detected their vehicle in the mountains and we know they�re on their way.�

�She�s safe!� exclaimed Quirinus. �Are you sure? Somewhere in the mountains?�

�A couple of days away. Didn�t you spot it from your own ship?�

Quirinus pursed his lips and frowned. The damaged visual scanners had left them unable to run a broad scan when the Platypus was on its final approach. Yet Jizo�s news was the first ray of light since that dark day on the Dandridge Cole. His daughter was somewhere out there and she was not alone. Quirinus slumped back in his stool and leaned against the bar, his mind buzzing with a tentative wave of relief. A thought struck him.

�You�re here in case she turns up at this depot!� he realised. �Who�s with her?�

Jizo gave him an unpleasant leer. �Now that would be telling.�

THE SHAKING OF THE TRANSPORT worked better than any alarm. Within moments, Ravana and Kedesh were out of their bunks and in the cockpit of the parked transport, frantically scrutinising the console and the rugged landscape beyond the windscreen to see what was happening. In the cabin behind, the greys picked themselves up from where they had fallen onto the floor. Artorius slept on, making Ravana wonder just what it would take to disturb the boy from his slumber.

�What was that?� she exclaimed. �Some sort of earthquake?�

�Falsafah quake,� Kedesh corrected her.

�Thraak thraak!� Nana shrieked excitedly. �Thraak thraak!�

�Fwack fwack,� agreed Stripy.

�How could you possibly tell?� retorted Ravana. She cast a puzzled stare across the readings on the console, but the transport�s basic seismic sensors were not up to pinpointing the origin of the tremor. �Arallu is on the other side of the mountains!�

�All hail the wisdom of the greys,� Kedesh intoned solemnly.

�That�s not funny,� muttered Ravana.

She countered Kedesh�s grin with a scowl and scratched the scar upon her arm, feeling tense and irritable. They had driven almost non-stop since they left Missi in the ruins of Falsafah Alpha over two Terran days ago, which as far as Ravana was concerned was way too long for five sweaty bodies to be cooped up in a vehicle of this size.

They had made good progress and by following the ancient coastal plain to the mountains had covered almost three thousand kilometres in just over fifty hours. They reached the foothills of the peaks during another long Falsafah night, whereupon the path became increasingly hazardous, leading Kedesh to call a rest until daylight returned. Ravana�s temper was starting to fray by this point and she had vehemently argued to keep going. Now it was dawn she was more grouchy than ever, for not withstanding their rude awakening, her restless sleep had been plagued by some very disturbing dreams.

�Breakfast?� asked Kedesh. She held up a carton of rice pudding liberated from the Falsafah Alpha storeroom. �There�s a tricky wicket to play today and it won�t do to step up to the crease on an empty stomach.�

Ravana frowned and returned her gaze to the view outside. During yesterday�s drive, the landscape had become noticeably darker, the red dunes pushed aside by outcrops of black volcanic rock. The breaking dawn revealed the full scale of the treacherous terrain before them. The mountains between them and Arallu were the remnants of an ancient outpouring of magma that had left behind a line of jagged peaks, running from north-east to south-west for thousands of kilometres. The stiff equatorial wind, laden with desert sand, carved crater rims and lava flows into a myriad of fantastic shapes that bore a bleak twisted beauty. Kedesh had identified a possible route through the mountains but the satellite image showed a summit peppered with huge calderas masked in dark shadows.

�Why all the cricket stuff?� Ravana asked, breaking her moody silence.

�What?� Kedesh looked surprised at her question. �I don�t know what you mean.�

�I�m half Indian, half Australian. Do you really think I�ve never come across anyone using cricketing terms before?�

�Fair point.� Kedesh waved the pot of rice again and beckoned to Ravana to join her at the table. �Do you play?�

�My father tried to teach me a couple of summers ago. I wasn�t very good.�

�I played a little for Kent back in the seventies. It�s hard to get a game these days with me always on the move, but I keep the old bat around just in case.�

�The shin pads came in handy,� mused Ravana, thinking back to Kedesh�s fracas against the spiders. �You are a very unusual person.�

�Thraak,� agreed Nana.

Ravana took the offered rice and settled down to eat. The smell of food managed what the tremor failed to achieve and a hungry, bleary-eyed Artorius was soon awake and demanding to be fed. The raid on the Falsafah Alpha storeroom had given them a much better selection of meals, but that did not stop Artorius turning his nose up at everything an increasingly-annoyed Ravana presented to him.

After breakfast and customary tea and slice of cake, Kedesh gathered them together in the cockpit and brought up the latest map on the navigation console. Ravana made for the driver�s seat and settled behind the controls with a weary sigh. The transport�s systems had been hard at work interrogating the satellite and she saw the geographic chart held much more detail than before. The broad-topped peak ahead now had a name.

�Hursag Asag,� read Artorius, squinting at the screen. �What does what mean?�

�Demon Mountain?� suggested Kedesh.

�Fwack!�

�My thoughts exactly,� muttered Ravana.

�Well, it won�t be easy,� Kedesh admitted. She ran a finger along a contour that skirted the edge of a mottled dark patch to the north of the mountain�s caldera. �This side of the peak has a gentler slope so I suggest we head that way. I wish we knew what that dark area is. It seems unusually flat for a volcanic feature.�

�Then let�s get going,� said Ravana. She turned from the screen and switched on the drive systems. �I see no reason to hang around here a minute longer.�

�Don�t you want to have a shower and get changed?� asked Kedesh, perturbed.

Artorius pulled a face. �Smelly Ravana.�

Ravana stared at her ghost-like reflection in the windscreen. Her face was sallow and haggard, her hair looked like a rat�s nest, her bones were starting to ache again and she felt itchy after a hot and uncomfortable night, but she was too tired to care. All she could think about was Doctor Jones, Xuthus and the frail outpost of civilisation in the Arallu Wastes, two days away on the other side of the mountains. Everything else that had happened did not matter. She just wanted to go home.

�You do what you like,� she said and shoved the gear lever into �drive�.

Over the next few hours the terrain became progressively steeper. The route identified by Kedesh led them up the shallow valley of an ancient lava channel that over millennia had filled with wind-blown sand, creating a scarlet desiccated glacier. Ravana still felt low and was glad to be on the move, but her lack of sleep eventually began to take its toll and when the time came to hand over driving duties to Kedesh she did so with relief. During Ravana�s spell at the wheel, Nana sat quietly in the co-pilot�s seat, solemnly studying the navigation console. Ravana had not seen either of the greys try to operate onboard equipment before and had been surprised to see Nana flicking through the various applications with remarkable fluency.

Leaving Kedesh with Nana in the cockpit, Ravana took her growing melancholy into the passenger compartment and slunk into a corner to watch Artorius and Stripy entertain themselves with yet another variation of the slapping game. After a while, the young grey broke away, came to where she sat huddled upon the bunk and gently placed a six-fingered hand upon her knee. It was such a touching gesture that Ravana managed a smile.

�Fwack?� asked Stripy.

�A little bit,� she admitted. �But I�m fine, really.�

�Why are you sad?� asked Artorius, with a distinct lack of sympathy.

Ravana sighed. �I can�t stop thinking about what we did to Taranis,� she said. �It must have been a horrible way to die. I hated him and Fenris for what they did to my father. I made Zotz force the ejection of the engine room. I am a dreadful person.�

�I hate the nurses,� Artorius said solemnly. �They were horrible to me.�

�Fwack,� added Stripy. �Fwack fwack!�

�I killed a man. That was wrong.�

�Are you quite sure he�s dead?� asked Kedesh, glancing over her shoulder. �Two of his creations survived. You saw them yourself.�

�Nurse Lilith said he was dead,� Ravana pointed out. �She accused me of murder.�

�People lie,� said Kedesh.

The transport jolted over a rock and she returned her attention to the path ahead. Ravana frowned and wondered if there was wisdom in the woman�s words, yet the thought Taranis could still be alive was no more reassuring. She decided to change the subject.

�It�s strange we�re not being followed,� she mused, addressing Kedesh. �A transport chased us from the dome, but since you rescued us we haven�t seen anyone apart from those Que Qiao agents.�

�I�m sure we�re being tracked,� replied Kedesh. �The satellite, remember?�

�The Dhusarians went to a lot of trouble to keep us hidden away,� Ravana reminded her. �I thought they�d try harder than this to get us back.�

�It�s their innings. You�re stuck on Falsafah until they pull the stumps.�

�We�re lucky this planet hasn�t killed us by now,� said Ravana, unconvinced. �Perhaps they don�t care if we live or die.�

�Fwack!�

�I agree,� remarked Kedesh. �That is a gloomy thought.�

�I don�t want to die,� Artorius mumbled.

�I�m sorry.� Ravana reached forward and gave him a hug. �Everything is going to be fine. The nurses at the dome were horrible but they obviously thought you were a very special little boy. Do you recall anything else of the rhyme you were taught? Something about a great game, paw-prints of the gods?�

The boy solemnly scratched his cheek and shook his head.

�I�ll try hard to remember,� he said sullenly. �Is it important?�

�I think you�ve been dragged into another of Taranis� stupid prophecies. That could be why the Dhusarians brought you to Falsafah just as we�re digging up whatever it is we found,� said Ravana. A new thought occurred to her. �You never said how long you were in that dreadful place. Can you remember?�

�It was a long time,� Artorius said in a small voice.

�Are we talking days?� asked Kedesh, who was listening. �Months, years?�

�I don�t know,� the boy moaned. He looked close to tears.

�It doesn�t matter.� Ravana gave him another hug. �How did you get there?�

Artorius rubbed his nose and frowned. �There was a black spaceship,� he said. �Me and the nurses got on at Camelot. It went into space and then did an ED jump and flew to a big red planet. We landed in the desert and we got in the transport where there were two men in cloaks and then drove to the dome where Nana and Stripy lived.�

�Thraak thraak,� Nana interjected, looking up from the console.

�Those men were cyberclones,� Ravana told Artorius. �Brother Simha and Dhanus, who I told you about. So you knew we were on Falsafah all that time?�

Artorius nodded and started to pick his nose.

�Taranis is set on creating a new mythology for his Church,� said Kedesh, keeping her eyes on the windscreen. �He uses people like pawns in chess, only he makes up the rules as he goes along. His own disappearances just add to the mystique. What does the Isa-Sastra say? Do you really think this prophecy, Artorius and the dig are linked?�

�Artorius� forgotten rhyme is carved into a wall we uncovered,� said Ravana. She gave Kedesh an odd look and wondered why the woman was questioning this now. �The Isa-Sastra has a star chart that pinpoints Tau Ceti using pulsar coordinates and there�s a line in the so-called prophecy itself that identifies Falsafah. If we ever get to the excavation I�ll be able to retrieve my slate and check Taranis� notes.�

�Pulsars as triangulation points.� Kedesh gave a wry grin. �The Americans used to fit plaques to space probes that used the same trick to show Earth, until people got nervous about who or what might actually get to read them. That would have been around the time the Isa-Sastra allegedly first appeared. Coincidence?�

�Allegedly?� Ravana caught the light-hearted tone of her comment and frowned. �I thought you believed it was genuine.�

�You don�t know what I believe,� the woman replied. �You never asked.�

�Thraak,� said Nana. �Thraak thraak.�

�Fwack fwack!�

Artorius scratched his head. �I didn�t understand that at all.�

The bright, swirling implant image created in response to the greys� interruptions was confusing. Ravana was left with the impression that Nana and Stripy both had an idea of what was buried at Arallu but had each tried to describe it in different ways. Kedesh too seemed intrigued by the implant translation. Ravana found the woman�s reaction irritating.

�I�m so sorry Artorius and I have been wrapped up in our own concerns,� she said crossly, addressing Kedesh. �Go on then. Tell us what you believe.�

Artorius� eyes went wide. �Alien monsters!�

�Silly boy. I meant you never asked me what I thought about the dig,� Kedesh remarked, with another glance over her shoulder. �I know something you don�t.�

Ravana was too tired for games. �Which is?�

�Arallu has been excavated before. About ten years ago, in fact,� said Kedesh. Ravana stared at her in surprise and caught the reflection of the woman�s smug smile in the windscreen. �It�s amazing what you can learn with the right contacts. Before you ask, what the previous dig found is something I don�t know.�

�Professor Cadmus said we got there first,� Ravana said doubtfully.

�Officially, that�s true,� the woman replied. �There are more mysteries on Falsafah than any of us can possibly imagine.�

The lava channel became increasingly steep and narrow as they ascended into the mountains. They aimed to pass north of the mighty peak of Hursag Asag, towards where a colossal flat caldera ran across their forward horizon, stretching for hundreds of kilometres to the rocky crags of the north-east. Kedesh�s plan was to find a route into this crater and cross to the far side, from where she hoped there was a way down through the rolling foothills that fringed the distant Arallu Wastes.

Kedesh had been at the wheel almost six hours by the time Ravana took over driving duties once again. The terrain was difficult and the transport, pushed to its limit, had begun to make very odd clunking noises as it climbed through the rock-strewn landscape.

A couple of hours into Ravana�s drive, the lava channel widened and then fell away to become a vast rift in the crater wall. By now, everyone else had joined her in the cockpit and the collected sense of relief was palpable as their vehicle passed through into the interior of the ancient caldera. The rocks beneath the wheels gave way to soft drifts of sand. It was something else entirely that made Ravana reach for the brake and bring the transport to a halt.

�Oh my,� she murmured.

Kedesh frowned. �I didn�t expect this.�

The crater was home to a shimmering lake that stretched as far as the eye could see. Tau Ceti was directly overhead and sparkling motes of sunlight flickered upon tiny rippling waves that danced before the stiff prevailing winds. A thin mist hung in the air and far away to their left, the faint silver streak of a waterfall could be seen cascading down the distant southern rim of the caldera, beyond which Hursag Asag itself rose through a layer of diaphanous cloud. The bright sunshine was deceptive, for the console�s environmental monitor revealed the temperature outside was just a few degrees above freezing.

�Why is there a lake in our way?� Artorius asked grumpily. �That�s stupid.�

�It�s amazing,� murmured Ravana. �The warm air from the plains must be condensing on the mountains. The volcanic rock is sucking the sky dry. I bet there�s another lake beyond the top of that waterfall, maybe in the crater of Hursag Asag itself.�

�Well deduced.� Kedesh looked thoughtful. �That would explain the dark patch on the map. It would appear I�ve directed you to Falsafah�s one-and-only beach resort.�

�Very funny.� Ravana sighed. �What now?�

Kedesh squinted through the windscreen and slowly scanned the entire crater from left to right. Ravana followed her gaze and her heart sank at the thought of the lengthy detour needed to reach the other side. Kedesh soon confirmed the girl�s fears.

�I can�t see an easy way round,� she said. �Let�s take a walk and assess the state of play. We can handle a bit of water if it�s not too deep.�

�Outside?� Ravana gulped.

�Can I come?� asked Artorius.

�No,� Kedesh said firmly. She looked at Ravana. �Are you up for this?�

Ravana paused and then nodded. �I could do with stretching my legs.�

�Thraak thraak!�

�Not literally! It�s just a turn of phrase.�

Kedesh found a spare survival suit and helmet for Ravana and before long they were huddled in the airlock ready to face the world outside. Kedesh armed them both with a cricket stump, plus gyroscopic binoculars for herself. Ravana was not sure why Kedesh had given her the stump but found a heavy stick in her hand somewhat reassuring.

Once outside, Kedesh went ahead of the vehicle and cautiously approached the water�s edge, pausing now and again to prod the ground with the stump along the way. Ravana caught on fast and followed, checking the ground ahead with her own stump. The sand beneath their feet remained firm and by the time Ravana caught up, Kedesh had taken a few steps into the lake itself, which even a few metres from the shore barely reached to her shins. The water was crystal clear and through the glass bowl visor of her helmet Ravana was surprised to see patches of brown fungus-like growths sprouting from the lake bed. Missi�s spiders aside, Falsafah was proving to be not so dead as she thought.

�Have you seen those?� she remarked, pointing. �There�s life on this planet.�

Kedesh gave a cursory glance but did not reply. The woman waded back to shore, handed Ravana the binoculars and gestured towards the transport. The faces of Artorius, Nana and Stripy pressed excitedly against the windscreen.

�Go onto the roof and see if you can spot dry land beyond this,� she said, her voice faintly distorted by the speaker in Ravana�s helmet. �It seems to be getting shallower to the north but it�s hard to tell.�

Ravana nodded and jogged back to the parked vehicle. The ladder to the roof was next to the airlock hatch and soon she was on top, her feet gingerly placed amongst bits of blasted spider the maintenance robots had missed, with the binoculars to her eyes. As Kedesh surmised, barely half a kilometre from shore on her right, a ridge of sand rose from the lake which offered a route west. Ravana was about to turn away when she noticed a dark shadow upon the lake. It looked like an oil slick, but with a start she realised it was moving against the wind, straight towards where the woman waded a few metres from shore.

�Kedesh!� she cried. �There�s something in the water, coming your way!�

�I see it,� came the crackling response, after a pause. �Very odd.�

The approaching stain resolved into a ragged dark green oval, several metres wide. The shadowy slick oozed across the rippling surface and slowly spread around Kedesh�s legs. Ravana watched as the woman bent low to take a closer look.

�It�s some sort of weird slime,� said Kedesh. �I wonder��

Her words broke off into a piercing scream. Ravana stared in horror as Kedesh leapt towards the shore in a flurry of limbs, her boots and survival suit ankle coverings masked by a billowing green mist. Ravana leapt to the ladder, dropped to the ground and rushed to meet her, deafened and terrified by the agonising cries flooding from her suit speaker. Kedesh staggered clear of the water and fell thankfully into the girl�s arms.

Within moments they were back in the airlock. Kedesh�s screams became fitful and choked as her suit filled with vapours from the slime bubbling at the smouldering ankle seals. When the inner hatch finally opened, Kedesh fell through into the passenger cabin beyond. Ravana unlocked the woman�s helmet, removed her own and quickly got to work helping her out of the ruined suit. The released vapour smelt vile.

�What the hell is that stuff?� Ravana cried. �It�s eating through everything!�

Her face fell as she pulled the woman�s suit clear. Kedesh�s ankles and feet were badly inflamed and breaking out in huge blisters. Artorius and the greys, wearing startled expressions, watched from across the cabin.

�I think �eating� is right,� groaned Kedesh, with a cough that made her wince. �That green stuff is alive. I�m guessing it�s some primitive organism that attacks with acid.�

�Wonderful,� muttered Ravana. �Artorius, fetch the first aid box, would you?�

Kedesh refused to remove her underclothes but allowed Ravana to help her into the transport�s shower cubicle, where what remained of the acidic slime was quickly washed away. Ravana�s hands were shaking as she attended to the injuries but soon had the wounds clean and secure beneath a layer of fresh bandages.

The woman looked pale and woozy from painkillers when some time later they returned to the cockpit to consider their options. Nana came with Ravana, leaving Artorius and Stripy huddled in the back. Other than a small patch of green slime at the water�s edge, the windswept lake once again looked deceptively serene.

�I vote we make a dash across the water to the ridge I saw,� Ravana began. �I reckon we could do it in under a minute at full speed.�

�Unless we hit deep water or submerged rocks,� said Kedesh. �Or worse, a patch of slimy acid waiting to dissolve us for lunch. It�s too risky to go for a boundary shot.�

�Then I�ll lead the way,� Ravana said hesitantly. �You�re not too wounded to drive. I�ll walk in front to make sure it�s safe and use your cannon to scatter any slime.�

�Thraak thraak!�

�You heard Nana,� said Kedesh. �That�s crazy talk.�

�Not as insane as I will be if I spend any longer cooped up in this transport.�

Kedesh sighed. �We�ll need someone on the roof,� she said, though looked far from convinced it was a good idea. �You saw the green nasty before I did when you were up there. The scanner can spot large rocks but won�t pick up biological weirdness.�

Ravana frowned. �I can�t ask Artorius.�

�Thraak thraak!�

�It seems you have a volunteer,� mused Kedesh. �But that makes it no less mad.�

Ravana paused by the water�s edge and glanced back at the transport trundling in her wake. The squat figure upon the roof was barely recognisable; the greys� tolerance to the poisonous atmosphere was unclear, so as a precaution Nana was wrapped in one of the spare survival suits. Ravana returned her gaze to the lake, hefted the cannon to her shoulder and placed a finger on the trigger. Her left hand held Kedesh�s acid-damaged cricket stump.

�Hey Nana,� she called. �Everything okay up there?�

�Thraak!�

The suit�s inbuilt communicator made the grey�s screech sound more like white noise than ever. Reassured, Ravana stepped forward into the lake. Her helmet speaker relayed a muffled splash as the wheels of the transport entered the water behind her.

�I can�t see the ridge from here,� she said. �Am I walking towards it?�

�Thraak,� came the reply. �Thraak thraak.�

Ravana nodded and turned slightly to the right. After every second step she paused and prodded the lake bed with the stump, her eyes scanning the surface for any signs of movement. She could not help feeling a little awestruck by her situation; with the transport temporarily out of her eye line, it brought back to her just how far from the rest of humanity they were. Yet the vastness of the bleak unspoilt vista left Ravana feeling not lonely but exhilarated. She walked upon the raw bones of the universe, unseen by any human eyes before hers. It was a daunting thought.

�Thraak! Thraak thraak!�

Ravana spun to the left, her finger instinctively closing on the trigger before her mind had even registered the approaching wash of green slime. A spear of lightning erupted from the cannon and the water at the edge of the shadow promptly exploded in a cloud of steam. Ravana quickly backed towards the transport, but paused when she saw her shot had done the trick. The bits of membrane left bobbing upon the water were a reassuring roasted shade of brown and soon drifted away on the wind.

�Thanks for the warning,� she said, relieved. �Has it gone?�

�Thraak,� confirmed Nana.

�Well done!� added Kedesh, watching and listening from the cockpit.

Ravana grinned and stepped forward once more. Nana sounded another alarm several metres later. This time, Ravana barely paused as she blasted the incoming slime, after which she gave the lake bed a nonchalant prod with the stump and continued to wade onwards. The lake became deeper and soon she was submerged to her thighs. When Nana sounded the third warning, Ravana found it harder to turn in the water and gave a squeak of fear when she saw how near the slime was. A quick blast dispatched it as before.

�That was close,� she murmured. �How much further?�

�Thraak thraak.�

�We�re not even halfway?�

Ravana frowned. She reached to give the lake bed another prod, then screamed as the stump was promptly snatched from her hand, sucked away into the murky shadow that had appeared from nowhere to surround her. The green slime, oozing thickly across the surface of the water and rolling like treacle, bubbled and then broke into a myriad of tiny vortices that moved like gasping mouths. Ravana�s eyes went wide with fear.

�Thraak!� cried Nana. �Thraak thraak!�

Gripped by panic, Ravana blasted recklessly into the lake. She did not stop even when the heat of boiling water came through the fabric of her suit and continued to fire long after the eerie shadow had been reduced to charred fragments. Wreathed in steam, it was not until her linked implant display flashed overheating warnings, the cannon glowing warm against her cheek, that she relaxed her grip upon the trigger and slackened her shaking hands. Her heart raced and inside her suit she was drenched in sweat.

�You were right,� she muttered to Kedesh. �This is madness!�

�I don�t know,� purred a reply. �You�ve done well to get this far.�

Ravana froze. The woman�s voice that seeped into her helmet was not that of Kedesh. She turned slowly and twitched in alarm.

To her right, reclined upon a rock that had also manifested out of thin air, was the dark-haired watcher from Falsafah Alpha, wearing the same fur coat and mischievous smile. Ravana gave a strangled cry, glanced back at the transport and gasped. Everything around her, from the vehicle to the rippling waters of the lake, had stopped dead as if frozen in time. She returned her wary stare to the apparition and gulped. The woman, who lay on her side with her head resting upon a slender bare hand, regarded Ravana curiously.

�You again!� cried Ravana. �Where the hell did you come from? How can you just appear out of nowhere? Not to mention breathe!�

The woman winked. �I play by different rules when it comes to reality.�

�This is not real?�

�Let�s not get into technicalities,� she said irritably. �From your bemused air of bafflement, I take it that your travelling companion has been her usual inscrutable self. There was me thinking you�d be fully briefed by now.�

�She said you are a watcher,� said Ravana, eyeing her carefully. She had quizzed Kedesh further about the mysterious stranger during the long drive into the mountains, but received nothing but vague replies. �Are you an alien?�

�No more than you are,� the woman replied frostily. �The only true citizen here is the green slime you seem happy to obliterate, but that�s imperialism for you. How�s the little star man? The boy being led like a lamb to the slaughter to fulfil his destiny, I trust?�

�What?�

�The infamous Falsafah prophecy?�

�I don�t understand.�

�I�m talking to an idiot!� she growled. Her youthful facade, much to Ravana�s horror, abruptly slipped and twisted into that of a wizened old crone with blackened razor teeth. �You showed real promise against mad Missi. Do your homework before we meet again!�

�But�� stammered Ravana.

The watcher and her rocky pedestal were gone. What looked like a silver owl fluttered skywards, then vanished to leave nothing but the blank rippling waters of the lake.

Ravana gulped. Gripped with terror, she lunged forward through the water, away from the transport towards the distant sand bank. Her half-wading, half-leaping progress became rapid once she reached the shallows and soon she was sprinting through ankle-deep water, conscious but uncaring of the slimy dark shadows darting away on all sides.

�Ravana!� Kedesh�s voice sounded loud in her helmet. �Slow down!�

�Thraak thraak!�

Ravana reached the dry ground of the ridge and fell to her knees. She was scared, angry, confused and seriously fearing for her sanity. Behind, the transport climbed from the lake onto the sand bank and pulled to a halt, pouring water from various nooks and crannies beneath the chassis. Nana took the opportunity to shuffle along the roof towards the ladder, but it was Ravana who reached the airlock hatch first.

Kedesh rose from her seat as the girl burst back into the cabin, Nana close behind.

�What happened out there?� she cried. �Spooked by the slime?�

Ravana threw her helmet to the floor. �Didn�t you see her?� she retorted angrily.

�See who?� asked Kedesh.

�A big scary slime monster?� sneered Artorius.

�That damn watcher from the dome!�

�Fwack!�

Kedesh frowned. �There was no one out there but you.�

�Thraak thraak,� added Nana, as Artorius helped the grey from the suit.

�And Nana on the roof,� the woman corrected. �You saw Athene?�

�Athene?� Ravana stomped to a bunk, sat down and threw an angry glare at Kedesh. Nana and Stripy slunk to sit with a startled Artorius. �You can�t see her but somehow know her name? Who is she? Tell me now!�

�One who walks amongst us,� Kedesh said slowly.

�Stop being so frigging mysterious!� snapped Ravana, frustrated. �What the hell is a watcher? And why is she also a cat? Or even an owl?�

�She can be whatever she wants,� the woman remarked gaily.

�Answer my damn question!�

Kedesh sighed. �Watchers are hard to explain,� she admitted. �Some believe them to be alien beings of pure energy, evolved far beyond the need for flesh and bones, each with a consciousness mapped into the quantum fluctuations of space-time. Less charitable people dismiss them as delusions of the insane, of course. In the past they may have been looked upon as gods. The cat thing goes back a long way amongst watchers who toy with humans.�

�Evil space ghosts!� Artorius remarked gleefully. �Cool!�

Ravana forced herself to be calm. �An alien cat woman?�

�Thraak,� replied Nana. �Thraak thraak.�

�Our grey friend has a point,� said Kedesh. �It is said they�re as old as the stars, which makes us the invading aliens, not them. The watcher who calls herself Athene is one I have crossed paths with before. She likes to meddle more than watch.�

�I don�t like the sound of that,� Ravana said dubiously. �Tell me more.�

�Athene is a bit of a maverick all-rounder,� Kedesh said thoughtfully. �The fact she�s hanging around Falsafah worries the hell out of me.�

A short while later they were on the move. The ridge ran high and dry for most of the way, but solid ground remained at least an hour�s drive away. Ravana was keen to hear more about the mysterious watchers but Kedesh, ever eager to change the subject, convinced her that their immediate concern was keeping the acid slime away from the transport. Ravana soon found herself back on the roof, plasma cannon at the ready.

She gazed across the congregating flotillas of slime, astounded by how the lake had changed in such a short space of time. The shore either side of the sand bank bubbled like hot volcanic mud and a green mist swirled uneasily above the wallowing sickly surface. The knowledge they were running low on spare cartridges for the cannon did not help Ravana�s nerves and she jumped when Kedesh�s voice suddenly interrupted her thoughts. The woman had suggested they use their headcoms to keep in contact; Ravana did not like to be reminded of her cranium implant but had reluctantly agreed.

�Everything okay up there?� asked Kedesh.

�I�m fine. Is Artorius with you?�

�He�s taking another nap.�

Ravana paused to fire another volley, the third so far, at the encroaching slime.

�Athene, your watcher, spoke about the Falsafah prophecy,� she told Kedesh. �She called Artorius a star man and said something about him fulfilling his destiny.�

�A star man?

�Also, at Missi�s dome, when he was safe she said there was no paradox.�

�Interesting.�

�Is that all you can say?�

For a while Kedesh did not reply. �It�s nice the way you�re looking out for him,� she said eventually. �I�m not sure I would have the patience with such a rude little boy.�

Ravana was shocked. �Kedesh!�

�Sorry. Obviously, I�m also grateful you�ve stepped up to the crease on my behalf more than once. When Missi tried to suffocate us, why didn�t you collapse when I did?�

�I grew up on a world with a thin atmosphere. If you remember, the greys were affected even less. I owed you that one. You rescued us after we crashed.�

There was another brief silence. Ahead, a short stretch of ridge dipped below slime-infested water and Ravana released a couple of plasma bolts to clear the way.

�I have a confession to make,� said Kedesh. �I was going to leave you there.�

�But you didn�t. That�s all that matters.�

�The greys threw a curved ball. I was about to drive away when they hammered on the hatch. They had dragged you from your transport and somehow kept you alive long enough to get you into my airlock. Nana and Stripy saved your lives, not me.�

Ravana�s blood ran cold. �You were going to let us die?�

�You don�t understand.�

�Damn right I don�t! We crashed trying to avoid running into you!�

�I was scared of creating another paradox,� protested Kedesh. She uttered a shriek of alarm as Ravana released a volley of plasma bolts into the sand bank ahead, more out of anger than necessity. �I am not allowed to meddle!�

�Really?� retorted Ravana and scowled. The transport swerved around the miniature impact craters she had just created. �So you�re a watcher, too?�

�I am Commander Marion Kedesh,� snapped the terse reply. �Field agent for the Grand Priory, the Most Venerable Order of the Hospital of Saint John of Jerusalem.�

Ravana blinked. �You�re what?�

�It is a bit of a mouthful,� admitted Kedesh.

�A field agent for Saint John?�

�Sent here to report on the Dhusarian Church, but with no authority to intervene.�

�I don�t believe you.�

�Suit yourself.�

Ravana silenced her headcom with a vicious mental stab. The transport rolled on and soon there were fresh patches of slime to divert her attention. Eventually even these became fewer and far between, then the ridge widened into an expanse of smooth sand and suddenly the strange lake was behind them. Ravana was tired and hungry, her legs ached from her earlier frantic run, her shoulder throbbed from the weight of the cannon and her mind felt heavier still with the day�s revelations. When it was finally time to climb from the roof and go back inside, Ravana ignored Kedesh�s request to talk and went straight to her bunk, kicked off her suit, buried herself under a blanket and tried to get some sleep.

Ravana awoke to find the transport had once again fallen still. She brushed her matted hair aside and saw several hours had passed; dusk was upon them and through the windscreen Tau Ceti was setting below a sky awash with brilliant pinks and purples. They were no longer in the caldera and instead were high upon a hillside of windswept rolling dunes.

The interior lamps were on their lowest setting, save for a single bright light above where Kedesh sat at the table. Ravana watched curiously as the woman slotted a glass vial into a portable medical analysis unit and scrutinised the machine�s display. Ravana wriggled free of the blanket, stretched wearily, then frowned when Kedesh reacted to her awakening by trying to hide what she was doing. A trio of gentle snores from the heaving shapes on the opposite bunk was enough to locate Artorius and the greys.

�Are we out of the mountains?� asked Ravana, keeping her voice low.

�Almost,� Kedesh whispered back. She shifted upon her bandaged feet and winced. �It�s a lot less rocky this side, so if you�re up to driving we can probably keep going through the night. I was too tired to carry on.�

Ravana dropped lightly off the bunk and shuffled to the table. Kedesh relaxed her defensive gesture but still wore a guilty look.

�There�s no need to hide that,� Ravana said, indicating the medical equipment. �I saw you with the vial at Missi�s dome. So what did you find? Is there some magical element in Artorius� blood to explain why the Dhusarians think he�s so special? Are you on a mystical mission from Saint John to find the saviour of the universe?�

Kedesh caught the smirk on the girl�s face and smiled.

�No ingenious little nano-probes buzzing through his veins?� suggested Ravana. Her voice betrayed a tone of solemn mockery. �Athene said he was a star man.�

�Very funny. You�ve been watching too many fantasy holovids.�

Ravana ignored her quip. �Not that I care. I haven�t forgiven you, by the way.�

�Fair enough. At least you�ve come out of that mood you�ve been in these last few days. Anyone would think you didn�t like battling acid snot whilst stinking to high heaven.�

Ravana experimentally sniffed an armpit and screwed up her face in disgust. Despite her unpleasant body odour, she did feel more optimistic, though all things considered she was not sure why. Her lost trust in Kedesh had let feelings of isolation return.

�I will take a shower,� she promised. �Then I�ll be ready to drive on.�

�Before you do, I have something that may interest you.�

Kedesh reached across the table and handed her a small touch-screen slate Ravana had not seen before. The notepad function was live and showing twelve lines of text. As Ravana began to read, the words of the Isa-Sastra flooded back to her:

�The so-called prophecy of Falsafah,� she murmured. �Is this from Artorius?�

Kedesh nodded. �It took him hours to remember it all. What do you think?�

�I see watchers get a mention,� mused Ravana. After what Kedesh had said about Athene, she found the phrase �paw-prints of the gods� intriguing. �And I can see how �Tau Ceti�s wandering tomb� identifies Falsafah. The lines about �twin suns� and �orphaned child� could even describe Artorius. But why �reborn�? Was there anything odd in his blood?�

�I got distracted by the green slime mould,� Kedesh said. �I analysed a sample and it is fascinating stuff. It�s a clump of single-cell organisms that work together to��

�Stop changing the subject,� Ravana said irritably. �If you really are from some secret society sent to spy on the Dhusarians, you must have an idea what this is about. Is Taranis the �father of the twelve�? What about �frozen traveller� and �slaves and masters�?�

�The Order of Saint John is not a secret society!� retorted Kedesh. �It is an old Commonwealth institution set up to protect the health and wellbeing of humankind. The Grand Priory tries to guard against future threats and so employs field agents like me.�

Ravana frowned. �Is this a Christian thing? Do you see other religions as a threat?�

�As far as I�m concerned, people can believe whatever they like if it helps them cope with the chaos that is humanity,� Kedesh retorted testily. �What they should not do is try to impose their beliefs on others. The Dhusarian Church in particular is bowling wide from Ra�lism and becoming a dangerous cult. The one is an off-shoot of the other,� she explained, after Ravana gave her a blank look. �The Ra�lian Church is an old UFO religion that still has followers today. Taranis was a Ra�lian priest at Lanka, who mixed his beliefs with Hindu mythology to create Dhusarism. Did you not know any of this?�

�UFO religion?� remarked Ravana, baffled.

�Unidentified Flying Objects,� said Kedesh. �Don�t ask. Even in the midst of the communications revolution, the twentieth century was not a period of enlightenment.�

�My brain hurts. I think it�s time for my shower.�

�Good girl. All will be revealed when we reach Arallu.�

Ravana was not so sure. She made her way to the shower cubicle with an uneasy mind. Her thoughts continued to whirl as the hot jets of water washed away the accumulated sweat and grime of her ongoing Falsafah odyssey.

The last rays of Tau Ceti were fading fast by the time Ravana slipped back behind the wheel. Billions of tonnes of wind-borne sand, dumped over millennia in the lee of Hursag Asag, softened the western slopes into a lofty cascade of dunes and she soon lost herself in their relentless journey, the headlamps falling upon one dry valley after another. Kedesh retired to her bunk once they were underway, leaving Ravana alone with her thoughts and some soothing Shanghai jazz from the transport�s music player. On the console before her, next to a cup of tea and inevitable slice of cake, the slate mocked her with its twelve lines of text. The more she stared at the words, the less sense they made.

The long Falsafah night drew on. A few hours into her drive, the smell of her hastily-grabbed carton of noodles awakened Artorius, who in turn disturbed Nana and Stripy from their slumber. Driving in the dark was a gloomy affair and Ravana was glad of the company.

�Have a good sleep?� she asked.

�Thraak,� replied Nana. �Thraak thraak.�

�I�m hungry,� grumbled Artorius.

�Help yourself to food,� she said. �Try not to wake Kedesh while you�re at it.�

Artorius instead came and sat glumly in the co-pilot�s seat. In the end it was Nana who went to fetch something to eat, leading the short-limbed grey to climb onto the table to reach the overhead lockers. Much to Ravana�s irritation, all three decided to join her in the cockpit, where she was soon bombarded by strong smells and some very noisy slurping.

�Hey Nana, Stripy,� said Ravana, after a pause. �Kedesh told me it was you who saved me and Artorius after we crashed into that crater. Thank you.�

�Thraak thraak,� Nana said solemnly.

�It was not nothing! You saved our lives!�

�Fwack,� said Stripy. �Fwack fwack.�

�Well, I am really grateful,� Ravana replied. �And I�m sure Artorius is too.�

She looked expectantly at Artorius. When he did not speak, she gave him a prod.

�Thank you for saving me,� he said in mock sincerity. �I didn�t want to be dead.�

Ravana sighed. The transport rolled on to further sounds of munching.

�Kedesh showed me your rhyme,� she said to Artorius and pointed to the slate.

Artorius presented her with a beef-and-noodles grin. �It doesn�t rhyme, stupid!�

�I�ve done that joke. What does it all mean?�

�Fwack,� Stripy said solemnly. �Fwack fwack fwack.�

�Thraak thraak,� interjected Nana.

�That�s wrong!� Artorius protested. �I�m king of the great game! I was in Gods of Avalon and pulled the sword out of the anvil when no one else could. They said it was not fair as I was not supposed to be playing but the nurses said it meant I was special.�

Ravana frowned. She did not watch the holovid show herself, but knew it was based upon challenges inspired by Arthurian mythology. Artorius was too young to be a contestant, yet the coincidence of his name being the Latin version of Arthur was puzzling.

�So you think the great game is Gods of Avalon?� she asked him. �But the greys just said the passage is about something else entirely and is to do with watchers.�

�Lots of people watch Gods of Avalon,� Artorius said stubbornly.

�I didn�t mean that kind of watcher.�

�Thraak?�

�Nurse Jizo said I was a star man and a traveller,� the boy said. There was a defiant look in his eye. �I was to meet masters and slaves and they would tell me what it meant. She said all those who believe would come together and not be afraid.�

Ravana gave him an odd look. �Believe in what?�

�In the greys.�

�Fwack fwack!�

�Exactly. They�re right here, dropping food all over the floor. What�s not to believe?�

Artorius looked sullen. �I don�t know.�

Ravana saw confusion on the boy�s face and did not press him further. Beside her, Nana picked up the slate and carefully scrutinised the twelve lines of text. Ravana was amused to see that the elderly grey looked as puzzled as she herself felt.

Kedesh awoke a few hours later to take over driving duties. Their descent through the dark dunes seemed never-ending. Ravana�s revived spirits faded and she spent the rest of the long Falsafah night curled upon a bunk, leaving Nana to keep a watchful eye on Artorius� and Stripy�s latest round of the increasingly-noisy slapping game. The gentle wallowing of the transport was soothing, though the loud clunking from beneath had returned and Ravana saw Kedesh give a worried downwards glance on more than one occasion.

It was not until Kedesh stood over her and gently shook her shoulder that Ravana realised she had dropped off to sleep. The sky was no longer dark and in the dim light of dawn she saw they had left the foothills of Hursag Asag behind. The view ahead was of a rolling sea of sand, peppered with black rocks, stretching as far as the eye could see.

�The Arallu Wastes,� Ravana murmured. �We made it.�

�We�re on the final innings,� Kedesh confirmed. �A mere thousand kilometres to go. With any luck we�ll be within sight of the excavation by dusk.�

Ravana stretched wearily and managed a weak smile. �Is it my turn to drive?�

�I�m afraid so. I tried the automatics again now we�re out of the mountains, but the navigation computer is still not impressed with what it�s getting from the satellite.�

�Fine by me. After Missi I�m not sure I�d trust an AI to do anything.�

Kedesh grinned and limped away to the washroom. Ravana reached above where Artorius and the greys dozed upon the other bunk, grabbed a carton of orange juice from a locker and then shuffled forward to take her place at the controls.

The hours passed without incident. Kedesh retired to a bunk to rest and left it to Ravana to scrutinise the satellite image of the terrain ahead and plot a suitable course. The map revealed Arallu to be a vast waterless river delta that in wetter climes would have drowned that of the Ganges on Earth. Ravana drove through a landscape of red dunes that gradually softened into the remnants of a meandering shoreline, until the transport finally bounced down a short slope onto the vast flat expanse of the ancient river bed. The clattering vehicle picked up speed and she felt a rush of adrenaline at the sight of the wind-blown desert sweeping by. A strange sense of melancholy drew her gaze to the rear-view camera display and as the ancient shoreline and mighty Hursag Asag slipped from view, the endless flat sands that remained left her feeling more isolated than ever.

Her spirits were given a boost by the appearance on the scanner of Arallu Depot, which at long last showed at maximum range. It was not long before the detectors picked up a further trace from the excavation to the north, plus at least one other signal she thought could be a beacon from a ship at the depot. She was keen to make contact, but when she tried to use the transceiver to see if anyone was in messaging range, she was surprised to find that the communication console needed a password before it would unlock.

Ravana managed almost seven hours behind the wheel before Kedesh awoke to take over. Tau Ceti rose higher above the parched delta and the hard-pushed transport began to struggle and show signs of overheating. Once Artorius and the greys were awake, they stopped for tea and a bite to eat in the shadow of an ancient river island. The towering rocky outcrop next to the cooling vehicle was a mass of crumbling sedimentary layers, pockmarked by metre-wide dark spirals that to Ravana looked like the fossilised remains of giant snails.

Kedesh caught her eagerness to finish the journey and soon they were speeding westwards once more. Ravana remained at her side, increasingly obsessed by the cluster of dots on the scanner marking Arallu Depot and the excavation. Now they were closer, the console had unexpectedly identified five separate beacons, three of which were spacecraft. Ravana still wanted to try and make contact, but when she questioned Kedesh about the password-protected transceiver, the woman merely shrugged.

�It�s just a precaution,� she said. Ravana saw her glance in Artorius� direction. �I�d rather keep radio silence until we know who�s out there waiting for us.�

�Couldn�t we at least try to identify the ships?� asked Ravana. The presence of a ship at the depot made her wonder if the Sir Bedivere had returned early.

�Let�s play a straight bat on this, okay?�

Ravana frowned. After a while she went to sit in the back with the greys, leaving Artorius with Kedesh in the cockpit. Nana picked up the slate and idly experimented with a drawing application. Ravana had earlier tried to ask the greys about how they came to be held by the Dhusarians but the resulting translator images left her baffled. She was beginning to wonder if it was Nana and Stripy, not Artorius, who were the key to whatever it was the Church had planned for Falsafah. Kedesh�s own revelations made no more sense.

�People are strange,� she muttered.

�Thraak?�

�Except you,� Ravana reassured Nana. �You�re probably the only sane one here.�

The ragged line of the ancient delta�s far shore appeared on the horizon a few hours into Ravana�s second driving shift of the day. Before long she was slowing to guide the vehicle out of the river bed and into the red dunes beyond, to the sound of more ominous clunks that seemed worse than ever. Her annoyance at their drop in speed was tempered by the scanner�s insistence that they had barely two hundred kilometres to go.

The final hours crawled by. Kedesh, Artorius and the greys joined her in the cockpit, all eagerly awaiting the end of their long journey. The blobs on the scanner screen crept ever closer. Finally, as they crested the top of a rise, Artorius gave an excited screech. Nestling within the distant undulating sands ahead lay the pale silhouettes of three squat domes.

�The excavation!� cried Ravana. �We made it!�

�And there�s a spaceship in the sky,� added Artorius.

�What?� Kedesh looked perturbed. �Where?�

As one they all looked to where the boy pointed to a tiny slash of colour in the sky. The ship, turning in a wide arc high above, was long and narrow with barely-visible stubby wings. Ravana thought she spied a flash of purple and white.

�Oh my word,� she murmured. �That looks like my father�s ship.�

�Your father?� asked Kedesh sharply. Her eyes narrowed. �Here on Falsafah?�

Ravana paused, then shook her head. �No, it can�t be. The Platypus was badly damaged when we had all that trouble with Taranis and I doubt father�s had time to finish repairs. Besides, it�s not built to cope with Falsafah gravity.� Nevertheless, she could not keep a tremor of hope from her voice. �Whoever it is must be in communication range.�

�Just keep driving. There�s too many players on the pitch for my liking.�

�Can�t we even try to contact Doctor Jones at the dig?� asked Ravana.

Kedesh ran her fingers across the communication console. �Your archaeologists may not be there to respond,� she said eventually. �The Que Qiao agents� ship made it to the dig ahead of us. The spacecraft at Arallu Depot belongs to the Dhusarians.�

�What about the third?� asked Ravana. She frowned when she saw Kedesh enter the password to lock the console once again. �The one we just saw?�

Kedesh ignored her question. �The point is that Ininna and Yima weren�t too pleased to see me last time. They�re even less keen on the Dhusarians. Do you really want to march in there whilst they�re fighting over whatever it is your archaeologist friends have found?�

�Treasure!� exclaimed Artorius.

�Fwack fwack!�

�Thraak,� added Nana sadly. �Thraak thraak.�

�Exactly!� Ravana declared. She grimaced as the transport heaved itself over a rough outcrop of rock with a mournful series of clangs. �If we have found an ancient site of the greys, Nana and Stripy have more right than anyone to be there. And what about the rights of archaeologists to claim the ruins in the name of science?�

�The past is dead,� said Kedesh. �How do you decide who owns what�s left behind?�

�Why should the Dhusarians have it just because of their beliefs?� Ravana retorted.

�Maybe they see themselves as custodians of neand culture.�

�There�s that word again! Why do you call them neands?�

�It doesn�t matter,� Kedesh said hurriedly. �Besides, Que Qiao has the upper hand. They pretty much run Falsafah and treat everything as if it�s their own.�

�Fwack fwack!�

�Most things in life are unfair,� agreed Kedesh.

�Que Qiao?� Ravana looked doubtful. �But why would they be interested?�

�I have it on good authority they financed your expedition.�

Ravana stared at her in surprise. The transport hit a patch of soft sand and her desire to quiz Kedesh further was forgotten as she concentrated on the way ahead. The excavation�s domes now lay a mere few kilometres ahead, within the shallow depression of another dried river bed. Ravana�s relief at being so near turned to concern when she saw the changes. On the far side of the domes, a strip of desert had become a runway, upon which an unidentifiable vehicle could be seen crawling back and forth. There was a stationary transport linked via a flexible walkway to dome two, while away from the new runway, parked in the desert near dome one, was the Que Qiao police spacecraft they had spotted at the abandoned airstrip some days before. It was far more activity than she had anticipated.

�Someone�s been busy,� remarked Kedesh. �Stop the transport.�

�Here?� retorted Ravana. �In full sight?�

She caught Kedesh�s glare and brought the vehicle to a halt. They were perched on a rise and had a good view of the domes ahead. Ravana watched warily as the transport at the site disconnected from dome three and rolled away into the dunes.

�Why have we stopped?� complained Artorius. �I�m hungry.�

�Fwack fwack,� remarked Stripy.

�How can someone do this?� Ravana asked bitterly, her eyes upon the site. �This whole area is rich in archaeology and they�ve ploughed it up to make a runway!�

�Everyone�s bowling a googly,� muttered Kedesh.

She moved to the passenger cabin and started rummaging through the lockers. Ravana frowned and wondered why the woman wanted to stop now when they were so close to their goal. Kedesh returned to the cockpit and waved the object in her hand.

�You must be thirsty,� she said to Ravana. �Would you like a drink?�

Ravana turned and almost knocked the open carton from the woman�s hand. Keeping her eyes on the domes, she took the juice drink and sipped it thoughtfully. Although eager to rejoin the archaeologists, the prospect of unwelcome visitors at the site troubled her.

�Where�s mine?� asked Artorius.

�You wait your turn,� Kedesh said harshly.

Ravana took another sip. She felt tired and a little dizzy, but it was perhaps to be expected given everything they had been through.

Her eyelids became heavy and a sudden weariness swept upon her, like a blanket thrown across a flame. The juice tasted odd and had a bitter aftertaste, one that reawakened a forgotten memory of the drink given to her by Dagan at Arallu Depot, so many weeks before. Ravana turned to Kedesh and saw her look of guilt. A shiver ran down her spine.

�Thraak!� cried Nana in alarm. �Thraak thraak!�

�The juice,� murmured Ravana. �What did you put in this?�

The carton dropped to the floor with a splatter. The urge to lie down came suddenly, but the bunk seemed so far away. Ravana tried to stand and slipped drunkenly to the floor, sending Stripy scuttling away in alarm. She cringed in fear as Kedesh�s face loomed close.

A cloud swept across her thoughts and all was dark.

Ravana awoke with a thumping headache, scared and confused beneath a pile of smelly towels. It was pitch black, her body ached and she lay curled in a most uncomfortable manner, but she quickly discovered this was because she was somewhere with not enough room to do otherwise. The loud roaring sound that had awoken her faded to leave behind a quiet intermittent whimper that if anything was even more disturbing.

She pushed away her coverings, wriggled into a sitting position and winced as something small and square jabbed her in the ribs. Ravana tried to stand, lost her balance and fell against a wall, which promptly swung open to reveal it was actually the door to the shower cubicle, leaving her to crash through onto the floor of the transport�s main cabin. The interior lights were no more than a feeble glow, but it was enough for her to see that Kedesh, Artorius and the greys had gone. Outside, night had fallen and the windscreen looked out upon a single white dome, above which arced the fiery trail of a spacecraft rocketing into the heavens. Between the transport and the dome, a collapsed wind pump lay amidst a pool of gushing water, which itself formed the head of a sizeable stream. It took Ravana a few moments to register that the dome before her was not the excavation site, but Arallu Depot.

�Kedesh!� she growled. �What have you done?�

She climbed to her feet and turned up the cabin lights. The square object that had bruised her ribs was Kedesh�s slate, which had fallen out of the shower cubicle with her. She picked it up and scowled at the message left on the notepad screen:

�Bitch,� muttered Ravana. �You tricked me.�

The irritating whining had not gone away. It was now joined by a scratching noise, both of which came from the airlock. Ravana threw down the slate and stomped across to open the hatch, wondering what else Kedesh had left to surprise her. She was only mildly surprised to find a cat sitting in the shadows of the chamber, mewing pitifully.

�Oh, it�s you,� she snapped, thinking of the watcher. �Athene, is it? Come inside!�

The cat looked up, gave another sad meow and jumped lightly into the cabin. As it moved into the light, Ravana gave a shriek of surprised recognition and fell to her knees.

�Jones!� she cried. �My little fluff ball! Is it really you?�

The cat mewed, coughed and as if to answer her question spat out a mangled lump of circuitry from Arallu Depot�s food molecularisor. Ravana grinned and hugged her electric pet close. As she shut her eyes against her tears, she realised her cranium implant had awoken. A familiar glowing purple image hovered in her mind�s eye: a crude rendering of a duck-billed platypus, the symbol of her personal link to the onboard AI of the ship of the same name.

Her cat still in her arms, Ravana scrambled to her feet and into the cockpit. Her heart leapt with joy as she caught sight of the purple and white spacecraft, parked on the edge of the runway beyond the dome. A quick mental prod activated the image in her mind, which went green and then expanded into a line of control symbols. In the background was a web-like image of the Platypus itself, an echo of the strange tendrils that had sprouted through the ship. She hurriedly scrolled through the controls and opened a voice link to the AI.

�Ship?� she called hesitantly. �Are you there?�

The familiar cool female tones of the AI filled her head almost instantly.

�It is a pleasure to speak with you again, Ravana. How may I be of assistance?�

Ravana grinned with relief, hardly able to believe that the end to her trials was near. Lowering her pet to the floor, she dropped into the driver�s seat.

�Ship, is father nearby?� she asked. �I think he�s expecting my call.�

THE CLANKING OF THE TRANSPORT exploded into a deafening clatter, drowning out Ravana�s squeals of excitement as she nursed the vehicle into the hangar of Arallu Depot. The dusty windscreen framed an unexpectedly large group of people waiting to greet her, first and foremost of whom was her beaming father. Grinning like an idiot, Ravana killed the engine, scooped her cat from the co-pilot�s seat and hurried to the hatch at the rear. Moments later she was hugging her father tight, overwhelmed by the fact he was actually there. After all she had been through it seemed too good to be true.

�You�re safe!� cried Quirinus. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her head to his chest, as if frightened to let go. �I was so worried. You might have died out there!�

�Several times,� she murmured. There were tears in her eyes. �I�m so glad you�re here! It feels like everything on this planet is out to get me.�

�You�re safe now,� he reassured her. He glanced down to where her cat was doing its utmost to trip them up. �I see you�ve found that dratted pet of yours.�

Ravana smiled. For the first time since stepping outside, she looked to the four figures fidgeting awkwardly by the door to the depot�s passenger lounge.

�Is that really Zotz with you?� she asked. �And what�s Philyra doing here?�

�It�s a long story,� Quirinus replied wearily. �I�m guessing you have a tale or two of your own. Where have you been?�

Her reply was interrupted by a dreadful metallic groan from the transport. They both retreated in alarm and then jumped as the suspension on the left-hand side collapsed with a loud bang. The tired, worn-out vehicle, having performed admirably through six thousand kilometres of harsh alien terrain, had finally reached the end of the road.

�Shall we go into the dome?� suggested Ravana. �It�s been a bit of a rough journey.�

The news that the transport had brought food the depot�s abused molecularisor could only dream of was well-received, particularly when Zotz discovered the locker full of chocolate cake. They retired to the habitation cabin near Morrigan�s Bar, where Ravana told her tale over a hearty meal washed down with copious cups of tea. Her portrayal of Kedesh was harsh but she felt bitter over the way the woman had abused her trust.

Fornax greeted Ravana with a puzzled stare that flickered just once to her facial scar. Upon hearing the woman was a journalist, Ravana glossed over their escape from Missi and the giant spiders, for the last thing she wanted was to become a story on Weird Universe. That everyone bar a doubting Philyra accepted her account of the alien greys surprised her, though she knew Zotz briefly saw the caged Nana when they faced Taranis on the Dandridge Cole many months before. To Ravana�s further surprise, when she hesitantly described her encounters with Athene, it was Fornax who was the least sceptical of her listeners.

�We did a piece on watchers for Weird Universe,� the journalist revealed. �There was this crazy old man who said he was a knight of Saint John, who had all these bizarre stories about alien cat gods who meddled in history. Most of what we recorded was too off-the-wall to use. It ended up as a ten-minute filler on our ghost-watch special.�

�I saw that,� said Philyra. �There�s no such thing as ghosts. Or aliens.�

�Well, that�s my story,� declared Ravana. �The rest, as they say, is geography.�

�Don�t you mean history?� asked Zotz.

�I know what I mean,� she muttered. She had seen enough desert to last a lifetime.

In the process of swapping tales, her father confirmed it was the Platypus she had seen circling the excavation site. He and Momus had taken the ship on a couple of reconnaissance flights; on the second, they had spotted Kedesh�s transport near the dig, remembered what Jizo told them and had tried to make contact. Ravana recalled the password-locked transceiver and frowned, but was more startled by the revelation that Jizo had been at Arallu Depot. Momus scowled and put on a sulky face.

�She was here,� said Quirinus, glaring at his hired pilot. �Last night she gave us the slip whilst this idiot was again dozing on watch. Their transport returned to pick her up and they left in a flying wing that�s been parked here the last couple of days.�

�I wasn�t asleep,� muttered Momus. �It was me who saw the frigging ship leave.�

�It woke you up, you mean,� retorted Fornax. �The bitch stole my Pinot.�

�Jones ran off and hid in their transport,� Zotz told Ravana. The electric cat lay curled upon his lap. �We followed its camera feed on my wristpad but it was mostly jumping around too much to see anything. We did spot the nurse with another woman and a boy.�

�I didn�t know it could transmit pictures,� Ravana said cautiously, looking at her pet. Zotz blushed and dropped his gaze. �Have you been messing with its insides again?�

�Their transport must have docked with yours whilst you were unconscious,� reasoned Quirinus. �Jizo was clearly waiting for you to show up. I wonder why they left you behind? She said something about you being in the wrong place at the wrong time.�

Ravana frowned. This aspect of the mystery puzzled her also, especially given the trouble Jizo and Lilith had taken to keep her locked up next door to Artorius. Her father had instructed the Platypus AI to keep track of the departing Atterberg Epiphany and they knew the black ship had touched down on the new runway at the excavation.

�I found a link between the dig and a so-called prophecy in the Isa-Sastra,� she said hesitantly. �It could be that they thought I knew too much, so wanted me out of the way. But if so, why abandon me with a vehicle right next to where our spaceship is parked?�

�More prophecies?� asked Quirinus, rolling his eyes.

�This time, I don�t think it�s something invented by Taranis,� Ravana told him. Earlier, she had shown them all Artorius� words on the slate. �But calling it a prophecy sounds too mystical, somehow. It might be more of a warning.�

�A warning!� exclaimed Zotz.

�It seems to me they want us to leave,� Momus said flatly. �There�s too much frigging secret-agent stuff going on for my liking. The sooner we blast out of here, the better.�

�Leave?� Fornax frowned. �What about my story?�

�Forget your story. What about Artorius?� asked Ravana, her face creased in concern. �We can�t leave him here. He�s just a little boy.�

�Artorius,� mused Philyra, looking thoughtful. �I know that name.�

�It�s Taranis� freaky cyberclones that scare me,� said Quirinus. �You�ve seen two of them and Ostara reckons there�s a couple more in Newbrum. You saw the police flyer at the dig. I�m hoping they already have the situation in hand.�

�There�s clones in Newbrum?� Ravana was shocked. �How do you know?�

�Ostara has been doing some secret-agent stuff of her own,� he told her.

�Frigging lizard men!� scoffed Momus. �As if Newbrum needs more weirdos.�

�We blasted them into space,� said Ravana. �Who rescued them?�

Quirinus, Zotz and Momus realised they had omitted an important piece of their story and told her about how the ejected engine room had been salvaged by the crew of the cloud-mining facility at Thunor. When Momus mentioned that Sky Cleaver�s shuttle had been found in orbit around Woden, Fornax looked thoughtful.

�Some guy at the spaceport told me it was the Dhusarians� black ship that brought the monks to Newbrum,� she said. �It must have met the stolen shuttle.�

�Then delivered another two to Falsafah,� murmured Ravana, perturbed. �What about the rest of the twelve? And Taranis himself?�

Momus shrugged. �There was a half-eaten stiff at Sky Cleaver. Was that him?�

�Did he have a spider walker instead of legs?� asked Zotz. He grinned as Fornax and Philyra screwed their faces in disgust. Momus however shook his head.

�Half-eaten?� Ravana shuddered. The more she heard about Taranis� creations, the worse they became. �That must have been Fenris. He was killed by the clones.�

�Jizo spoke of Taranis as if he were still alive,� Quirinus said gently.

�But Lilith said he was dead,� she retorted sullenly. �And that I killed him.�

For a while, no one spoke. Zotz took advantage of the lull to find Ostara�s recording on his wristpad, which in turn reminded Quirinus to send Ostara and Wak the news that Ravana was safe. As Zotz showed Ravana the shaky muffled footage of Nyx and the two monks, the fear she felt back at the Dhusarians� dome was awakened anew. Taranis had called them his disciples, created to spread the word of the Dhusarian Church, but it was a shock to see they had begun their mission on Ascension. Yet foremost in her mind was Artorius, the mysterious star man Athene described as being led to his duty like a lamb to the slaughter, who was once again prisoner of the Dhusarians. There was little Ravana could do about the cyberclones on Newbrum. Here on Falsafah, she could not stand idly by.

�I have to try and rescue Artorius,� she said. �I don�t know what the Dhusarians have planned for him but I�m sure it�s not good.�

�They have scary killer robots,� Philyra said cautiously. �We saw a couple of military androids in crates in the hold. I just thought I�d mention that.�

�I didn�t intend to march in there unarmed,� Ravana reassured her, before adding hopefully, �nor alone.�

�Armed!� exclaimed Quirinus. �My little girl does not mess with guns!�

Ravana gave him an apologetic smile. �I only shoot robots and acid slime.�

�And launch lizard men into frigging space,� muttered Momus.

Zotz looked uneasy. �I�ll come if you want me to,� he said quietly. The cat in his lap squirmed under his tight embrace. �You needed my help last time.�

�Count me in too,� said Fornax. �I still need a good story to take back with me.�

Ravana looked to her father with pleading eyes.

�I suppose we should make sure there�s nothing untoward going on at the dig,� admitted Quirinus. �This is no place for a little boy to be lost. Let�s see if that transport of yours has any life left in it before we decide to try that new runway.�

�You�re all frigging mad,� muttered Momus.

�But you�ll come with us?� Quirinus asked.

Momus scratched his ragged moustache. �Am I getting overtime for this?�

The lone repair robot stationed at Arallu Depot, a beetle-like automaton half a metre long, clung gloomily to the undercarriage of the transport and in a blaze of sparks added yet another glowing scar to the broken suspension strut. Two of the vehicle�s huge wheels had been removed, along with the gearbox, a couple of drive shafts and a large coil spring that had snapped in two. One look at the robot�s progress was enough to tell Ravana it would be a while before the vehicle was capable of going anywhere again. Leaving her father watching the robot, she clambered into the transport and emerged minutes later loaded down with the plasma cannon, a couple of undamaged survival suits and Kedesh�s cricket bat, all of which she deposited on the floor. Quirinus� quizzical gaze moved immediately to the bat.

�It�s the only other weapon I could find,� she explained. �There was a pistol in the cockpit locker but Kedesh must have taken that with her.�

Quirinus picked up the cricket bat, took a practice swing and smiled.

�This takes me back,� he said. �Genuine willow, too. Odd thing to have aboard.�

�Kedesh reckoned she used to play for Kent,� Ravana replied, her words tinged with sarcasm. �Of course, that may have been another lie.�

�And the cannon?� Quirinus raised an eyebrow. �Is there some bloodthirsty version of ultra-cricket they play in Beckenham I should be aware of?�

Ravana grinned and picked up the cannon. It felt good in her hands, though part of her was disturbed that the thought of using it against the Dhusarians did not immediately fill her with horror. Her father too looked discomfited by the sight of her wielding the battlefield gun. It occurred to her that if it came to calling someone�s bluff, such a weapon would look a lot more scary in the hands of the burly one-eyed pilot than if carried by herself.

�Shall we swap?� she suggested. �The cartridge only has two shots left, though.�

Quirinus solemnly took the offered weapon and handed back the bat. With the gun on his shoulder he became the quintessential fierce freedom fighter and Ravana found herself looking at her father in a new light. He never talked about his own life during her childhood years on Yuanshi and she wondered whether he had seen action in the civil war.

�Does that take you back, too?� she asked tentatively.

She heard a bleep. Her father glanced at his wristpad and gave a wry grin.

�Momus has finished refuelling the ship,� he said. �It looks like we�re good to go.�

Artorius stared fearfully around the hot, dusty dome and rubbed his tear-stained eyes, his movements hampered by the manacles upon his wrists. Nana and Stripy stood beside him, silent and similarly bound. The nasty military robot before them had kept its plasma rifle trained their way ever since they arrived at the archaeological site. Kedesh was with them and had limped away to lean upon a convenient wheelbarrow, but was not a prisoner like himself and the greys. She had barely said a word since Jizo�s transport docked with their own in the night, nor answered any of his questions about Ravana.

Lilith stood next to the robot, looking to where Jizo crouched and stared into the nearby trench with a touch-screen slate in one hand and a half-empty bottle of wine in the other. Artorius was tired, confused and very scared. Everyone was being horrible to him but at the same time strangely wary, though he did not know why.

There was a large black tent on the far side of the dome, not far from where they had entered through the walkway from Jizo�s transport. Two cloaked figures stood inside the tent, half-hidden in the shadows. The young Arab man, whom Lilith called Dagan, appeared from a tunnel behind and hurried towards the tent. Artorius had heard voices from the neighbouring dome but as yet seen no trace of the archaeologists Ravana had spoken about. As for the dig itself, the dark hole in the pit was lit by a strange flickering green light that made him think of the Tintagel Worm Charmers challenge in Gods of Avalon, where contestants crawled into a subterranean monster�s lair never to be seen again. It was not a nice thought.

The two figures left the tent and with a stilted, inhuman gait came towards them. Both were unnaturally tall and wore grey hooded habits secured with red and silver sashes. Lilith and Jizo turned to greet them, their faces creased with nervous smiles. Kedesh frowned and twitched a hand towards the pistol in her belt.

�This is your big day!� Jizo hissed to Artorius. �The brothers on Ascension now have what the girl stole. Soon you will take your place between worlds and bring forth the truth!�

Lilith frowned. �You seem remarkably informed for a fat stupid nurse.�

�You make it sound like the Oracle at Delphi,� mused Kedesh, eyeing Jizo cautiously. �Is that the boy�s destiny? To sit in a fume-filled temple and spout gibberish?�

�Be quiet!� snapped Jizo. �You�ve delayed us enough already. The plan was to bring him straight to us, not take him on a sight-seeing tour of Falsafah!�

�I had to play the long game with Ravana to find out how much she knew.�

�That damn girl nearly ruined everything,� muttered Lilith. �Where is she now?�

Kedesh glanced at Artorius, then gave Lilith a sly smile.

�Ravana is dead,� she said. Artorius� eyes went wide. �I killed her. You said the boy was the only one of value for what you have planned here.�

�Ravana is not dead,� mumbled Artorius. �She was to take me home.�

�What home?� spat Jizo. �You�re just a poor, unloved little orphan.�

The two robed figures reached the trench, lowered their hoods and regarded Jizo with a steely glare. Artorius went pale at the sight of their cruel, lizard-like features, so unlike the friendly faces of the greys. He remembered what Ravana had said about them being both alien and human, created by a mad priest for reasons he could not remember. Dagan was at their heels, clutching a couple of large lamps on folded metal tripods.

�Thraak,� Nana murmured sadly. �Thraak thraak.�

�Fwack,� agreed Stripy.

�zz-siileencee-zz!� shrieked the nearest of the lizard men. Startled, Artorius clutched Nana�s arm in alarm. �zz-thee-oold-oonee-dooees-noot-beeliieevee-zz!�

�Brother Cadmus is dead,� Lilith remarked. �Who will guide us now?�

�We have Taranis� texts,� said Jizo, speaking with uncharacteristic authority. She held up the slate. �The inscription on the archway is that of the prophecy. Our little star man is ready. The archaeologists have opened the chamber and the way is clear.�

�We�re going in there?� Artorius looked at the ragged hole in the excavated archway.

Lilith nudged him towards the ladder into the trench, then motioned for Dagan to remove the greys. The man looked uncomfortable in their presence and flinched when his first attempt to lead them away was met by a rapid staccato of slaps from Stripy. Artorius started sobbing and made a grab for the grey�s hand. Jizo promptly clamped an arm around his neck, dragged him away and dropped him over the edge of the pit. The bottle in her hand caught him across the ribs and he cried out in pain.

�Was there any need for that?� murmured Kedesh, perturbed.

Jizo scowled. �You�ve done your job,� she retorted. �Now let me do mine.�

Artorius glowered from the dust of the trench. He had never liked Jizo. Kedesh was supposed to be his friend, only she had proved not to be trusted just like every other grown-up he had met. Ravana had been nice to him but now she and the greys were gone. He had seen what happened on Gods of Avalon when contestants were split from their team mates and friends. He was frightened, but the grinning sneer of Jizo had awoken something new. Slowly but surely, his fear was hardening into hate.

The Platypus rocketed fast and low across the desert, on a heading that mirrored the sparkling line of silver that now wound through the ancient red dunes. The breached aquifer at Arallu Depot was pouring water down an ancient tributary of the main delta, towards the distant dig. It was the first river to flow across the Arallu Wastes for many millennia.

�So,� said Quirinus cautiously. �What�s so special about this boy we�re to rescue?�

�Artorius? I�m not sure. He�s an annoying little brat at the best of times,� Ravana told him. �It�s cute the way he�s made friends with the greys, though.�

She had taken the co-pilot�s seat, much to the chagrin of Momus, who now found himself relegated to the outer starboard position on the other side of her piloting father. Zotz sat to her left, leaving Fornax and Philyra to make do with the couch inside the carousel, which even when not broken did not spin in atmospheric flight. Ravana�s electric cat, having received a quick recharge after its recent adventures, formed a reassuring lump upon her lap. Her stroking of the pet seemed innocent enough, but Ravana was thinking about what Kedesh had told her about special-forces implants, whilst mentally scrolling through the command functions of her own device. She had once before managed to operate circuitry that did not have a proper implant interface and was looking for a clue on how to do it again.

She was about to give up when her fingers caught a hitherto-unsuspected switch beneath the fake fur. Ravana gave a muted squeak of surprise as the cat�s inner workings promptly leapt into her mind, from its power cell and alloy skeleton to the smallest actuator and wire. The sight of the tangled web of Woomerberg Syndrome tendrils brought forth an involuntary shudder, for she could not help thinking of the silver lines within her own scars. A hurried mental swipe cleared the image from her head. Her cat remained oblivious to her probing and nibbled upon a small foil packet pulled unseen from her jumpsuit pocket.

Quirinus glanced across. �Are you warm enough?�

Ravana realised her father had mistaken her shiver for one of cold. Eager for a change of clothes, she had rifled through what Kedesh had left behind in the transport, to find that the woman�s wardrobe was essentially several versions of the same thing. The black sleeveless jumpsuit was nonetheless a good fit; although shorter than Kedesh, Ravana was equally slim but filled the tailoring far better, leaving her secretly pleased that someone had a chest flatter than hers. She smiled at her father�s reaction, who seemed perturbed by the reminder that beneath her usual baggy flight suit his teenage daughter was becoming a woman.

�I�m fine,� she reassured him. Disquieted by the memory of seeing her pet�s innards, she pushed it gently to the floor. �If you�re referring to what I�m wearing, all my spare clothes are at the dig. You should have seen what Philyra offered to lend me!�

Zotz paused in his attempts to pull the lump of foil from the cat�s paws and smiled. Beneath her survival suit, Philyra had gone for a crop top and an incredibly short skirt, in a sartorial display that had annoyed Fornax and tongue-tied Momus in equal measure. The cat released its grip and Zotz tore open the small silver package.

�Chocolate cake!� he exclaimed.

Ravana snatched it from him and returned it to her pocket. �The cake that launched a thousand hips,� she mused. Kedesh�s mania for cake got everywhere.

The Platypus hit turbulence and began to shake. Ravana�s implant was linked to the ship�s AI and through the network of tendrils she could sense the unnatural strain the heavy gravity was putting on the craft�s frame, a situation not helped by the boosters strapped to the hull. While her father eased the ship back into line, she cast an eye over the external camera views. Ahead, the new runway beside the archaeologists� cluster of domes was coming into view. There were two other ships already parked in the desert nearby.

�Five kilometre warning,� said the AI.

�This is a lot smoother than last time,� Zotz remarked.

�It�s damn frigging slower,� muttered Momus, with a grudging nod of approval.

Ravana selected the control to lower the wheels and waited for the four clunks as the undercarriage dropped into position. She moved a hand to the communication console, paused and glanced to her father, who nodded. Ravana opened an audio channel.

�This is Ravana O�Brien of freighter Platypus calling the Arallu archaeology expedition,� she said. �Doctor Jones, Professor Cadmus, are you receiving me? Over.�

The cabin speakers buzzed with static, but that was all. Ravana sighed.

�Still no response,� she remarked. �I do hope they�re alright.�

�We�ll find out soon enough,� said Quirinus.

The Platypus swooped towards the beckoning runway. The blur of desert resolved into a series of gullies and dunes, then with a screech of tyres they were down and coasting to a halt. As they shot past the site itself, Ravana caught a glimpse of the transport linked to dome two. It had been three weeks since her disappearance from Arallu Depot. Something told her she was not about to be welcomed back with open arms.

Xuthus stared sullenly at the heavily-built infantry android, which had diligently watched over them for what seemed like days. Doctor Jones, Hestia, Urania, the two Que Qiao officers and himself were seated on hard ground with their backs to one of the habitation cabins, all nervously awaiting their fate. The young Arab man had threatened to tie them up if they tried any heroics, but in the end had settled for taking away Ininna�s and Yima�s police-issue pistols, though not before giving the robot orders to shoot anyone who attempted to escape. Yima had tried and received a low-energy plasma blast in his arm for his trouble; Dagan let Hestia tend the wound but after that the mood amongst the captives went rapidly downhill. The noise of spacecraft engines outside had not been cause for celebration.

�Anything happening?� remarked Doctor Jones.

�I can�t see anyone,� replied Xuthus, who had a limited line of sight through the walkway tunnel into dome two, not that there was much to see. �I think they�re still in the chamber.�

�What about the little boy?� asked Hestia.

�Him too,� Xuthus said irritably.

The android�s angular head suddenly twitched and turned towards the entrance to the nearby transport hangar. A hiss of escaping air broke the hush of the dome and red warning lights began to flash, signifying that someone was depressurising the hangar from outside. There was a series of clunks, followed by a loud clattering as a compressor started up to flood the hangar with air. The sound now coming from behind the airlock door was the unmistakeable thump of boots and murmur of voices.

�Wonderful,� muttered Urania. �More unwelcome visitors.�

The airlock opened and a young Indian woman in a belted black jumpsuit appeared in the shadows of the doorway. With her was a burly, bald-headed man, who slipped out of sight behind the cabin before Xuthus saw what he carried. The woman stared at the robot and its seated prisoners and walked defiantly towards them, her hands held high. At first, Xuthus failed to recognise her, then saw the scar on her face and gasped in surprise.

�Ravana!� he exclaimed. �You�ve come back!�

Govannon smiled wearily. �Now there�s a sight for sore eyes.�

The android swung its rifle towards the approaching figure.

�Halt!� Its voice was a rattling metallic monotone. �Identify yourself!�

�My name is Ravana O�Brien,� she replied calmly. �I am not armed.�

�But I am,� came a voice from behind. Quirinus had circled the cabin whilst Ravana kept the robot distracted. The cannon on his shoulder was aimed squarely at the back of the android�s head. �With a big plasma gun pointing right at your little metal skull.�

�Wow!� gasped Xuthus. �A real live space pirate!�

The robot swivelled its head through a hundred and eighty degrees and fixed Quirinus with a cold electronic stare. �The weapon is not activated,� it intoned. �You do not possess the cranium implant necessary to operate the targeting controls.�

�Damn,� grumbled Quirinus. �You noticed.�

Xuthus shifted a worried glance from Quirinus back to Ravana, who to his surprise gave him a wink and smiled. All of a sudden she dropped her arms, pulled a cricket bat from where it had been wedged unseen in her belt at her back, then with a grunt of effort leapt forward and swung it at the android with all the strength she could muster. The willow clanged against the side of the robot�s head and knocked it clean from its shoulders, sending it spinning away across the dome with murmurs of �Reboot me!� trailing in its wake. Xuthus� wide-eyed stare of disbelief went from Ravana to the robot�s torso, which stood wavering a few moments longer before crumpling slowly to the floor.

Ravana grinned and lowered the bat. �How�s that?�

�Not bad,� Quirinus said approvingly. �I�ll make a cricketer of you yet.�

Fornax scowled through the windscreen at the domes beyond the beak-like nose of the berthed Platypus. She was frustrated to be so close to the action, only to find her story still out of reach. Sitting with her in the cockpit was Philyra, Momus and Zotz, all of whom had been told in no uncertain terms by Quirinus to stay aboard whilst he and Ravana went to look for the archaeologists and Artorius. The reporter sat in Ravana�s usual seat and so only had herself to blame for the electric cat fidgeting nervously upon her lap.

�Are you sure there�s no more pressure suits, kid?� she asked.

�Ravana and Quirinus took all the spare ones,� Zotz told her, though they both knew Momus had kept hold of his own. �They might be needed to bring people back aboard.�

�You heard the captain,� said Momus. �We�re supposed to stay put.�

�How about we use these?� suggested Philyra. She held one of the ship�s emergency oxygen masks, a two-piece design as old as the Platypus itself, consisting of a face mask and shoulder pack connected via a flexible tube. She raised it to her face and promptly wrinkled her nose in disgust. �If you don�t mind the smell of sweaty rubber, that is.�

�Surely we need a full suit to survive out there,� Fornax said doubtfully, irritably pushing aside a rogue tendril hanging from a control panel.

�Ship?� asked Zotz. �Can you analyse the air outside?�

�Exterior ambient atmosphere is approximately eighty-two per cent carbon dioxide, nine per cent nitrogen, five per cent oxygen and three per cent argon with traces of carbon monoxide, methane and water vapour,� reported the AI. �Air temperature is two hundred and seventy-six kelvin, atmospheric pressure is eighty-nine kilopascals.�

Philyra shrugged. �Who�s this kelvin guy?�

Momus rolled his eyes. �To put it another way, the air�s thick enough to stop your blood boiling but poisonous and frigging cold.�

�So you could manage with just masks,� added Zotz.

�And a few more clothes,� muttered Fornax, with a withering glance at Philyra.

Momus frowned. �We�re supposed��

��To stay put,� finished Fornax. �Yes, I know. But I am a reporter and inside those domes is possibly the greatest scoop of this century, if not of all time! I refuse to sit around in this heap of a tentacle-sprouting spaceship, waiting for our gallant captain to return. I am going to grab my story, whether you like it or not!�

�Me too,� declared Philyra, standing up. �Zotz?�

Zotz shook his head vigorously. �I don�t want to go out there.�

Philyra disappeared through the hatch into the crawl tunnel leading to the carousel. When she returned a few moments later, she wore a long coat and held Fornax�s bag.

�You�re both frigging mad,� Momus told them.

�Probably,� Fornax admitted. Taking her bag, she withdrew her tiny camera robot and carefully unfolded its twin rotors to make sure nothing was dented. She saw with satisfaction that it was charged and ready to go. �Welcome to the world of journalism.�

Ravana found the greys inside the large black tent that in her absence had appeared in dome two. There was no one else in sight, though she could hear faint voices coming from the walkway to the Dhusarians� transport. The site was far more humid than she recalled; earlier, in dome three, she had been startled to find a pool of water in the trench containing the excavated tree stumps. Incredibly, tiny green buds were visible on the blackened outcrops, suggesting that the ancient remains were not as fossilised as they thought.

The air inside the tent was even more stifling than the clammy atmosphere of the dome and had an unpleasant coppery smell. The main area contained a couple of low couches strewn with blankets, a variety of locked crates and a freezer trunk that was chilling in more ways than one, for the lid bore a series of bloody six-fingered handprints.

Nana and Stripy were in a smaller inner tent, manacled to one of the tent poles and looking very dejected in their grubby cut-off overalls. Their restraints had implant-controlled locking mechanisms that Ravana was able to release with ease. The greys greeted her with a chorus of excited shrieks, which became quite emotional. Stripy gave her a hug.

�Fwack fwack!�

�Of course I came back for you!�

�Thraak thraak,� Nana cried urgently. �Thraak thraak thraak thraak!�

�Slow down!� protested Ravana. Her implant translator could not keep up with the torrent of white noise issuing forth from the grey�s lips. The visualisations that did appear were difficult to comprehend. �Can we get out of this smelly hole?�

Ravana led the anxiously chattering greys from the black tent. Her father was across the dome, inside the walkway link to the Dhusarians� parked transport, busy doing something furtive with a spade and the vehicle�s hatch. There to greet her instead were Doctor Jones, the Que Qiao officers and her fellow student archaeologists, all of whom having followed from dome one. All stared at the two greys with expressions that conveyed disbelief, apprehension, amazement and bewilderment in various measures.

�Thraak?� asked Nana.

�They�re friends,� Ravana said, even though she had yet to hear a civil word from either of the police officers or Urania. �Well, mostly.�

�Fwack fwack,� murmured Stripy uneasily.

Doctor Jones stepped forward, took off his hat and scratched his head thoughtfully. Xuthus and Hestia exchanged excited whispers, interspersed with glances at Ravana filled with awe. Quirinus soon came to join them, wearing an equally bemused expression. Govannon replaced his hat and noisily cleared his throat.

�Are those really�?� he started, but could not finish his sentence.

�Aliens!� exclaimed Xuthus.

�Cool,� murmured Hestia.

Quirinus grinned. �You do mix with some strange creatures.�

�Freaky,� Urania muttered. �Are they for real?�

Stripy returned Urania�s stare. �Fwack?�

Ravana grinned. �He�s just asked the same about you. They�re really intelligent,� she added. �I reckon they�re as smart as you or I.�

�Don�t you mean as dumb as you?� sneered Urania.

�You can understand them?� asked Yima. Beside him, a scowling Ininna fiddled with her headscarf as if trying to shield herself from the quizzical gaze of the greys.

�The Dhusarians developed a translator programme for cranium implants,� Ravana replied, pointedly ignoring Urania. She glanced to Govannon, who was staring wide-eyed at Nana and anxiously shuffling his feet. �Is everything okay, Doctor Jones?�

Govannon gulped. �Aliens don�t exist, see?� he said slowly. �They cannot exist! I�ve spent my life debunking the crazy notions of people like Cadmus, who see extraterrestrial handiwork in every ancient ruin. I freely admit that what we�ve found on Falsafah is a puzzle, but in all my years of archaeology I have not once seen definitive proof of intelligent alien life. I don�t know what these creatures are, but��

He tailed off, lost for words. Nana raised large beseeching eyes to Govannon�s own, stepped forward and gently placed a six-fingered hand upon the man�s arm.

�Thraak,� the grey said softly. �Thraak thraak.�

�Fwack fwack,� added Stripy.

�They like you,� said Ravana, then glared at Urania. �But not you.�

�What about me?� Xuthus asked.

�Thraak thraak,� Nana said solemnly.

�I do not!� retorted Ravana, blushing. �He�s just a friend!�

Hestia gave her a wounded look and sidled up to Xuthus in the wake of a coy glance of her own. Xuthus himself remained fixated by the greys, unaware he had briefly become the centre of attention.

�Where�s Professor Cadmus?� Ravana asked, in an attempt to change the subject.

Govannon dragged his eyes away from the greys and sighed.

�Cadmus is dead,� he said glumly. �He explored the chamber alone and was killed in a rock fall. There�s some very strange stuff down there, see. I dread to think what Dagan and his Dhusarian friends want with the place, but they�ve claimed it as their own.�

Hestia frowned. �Two of them looked like monks.�

�Did they have a little boy with them?� asked Ravana. The news of the professor�s death came as a shock, but her mind had enough to worry about already.

Hestia nodded. Ravana could not see the entrance to the chamber from where she stood, but had walked past on her way to the tent and seen the scuffed footprints inside the trench. She looked at her father, who seemed to know what she was thinking and nodded.

Quirinus turned to Govannon. �This is your dig,� he said. �It may get a little rough, but your expertise would be appreciated. As for the rest of you, we have a ship outside and spare suits in the hangar. We�ll be hitting the runway as soon as we get back.�

�Get back?� asked Xuthus. �Where are you going?�

Ravana picked up the cricket bat from where she had left it outside the tent and casually hefted it to her shoulder.

�Kedesh called it the final innings,� she said. �Now it�s our turn to bat.�

Xuthus remained at the edge of the trench long after Govannon, Ravana, her father and the funny little aliens had disappeared into the green-tinged tunnel and out of sight. He badly wanted to go with them, but Ininna stood silently nearby and Xuthus was unsure of how the Que Qiao agent would react if he tried to follow. With a sigh, he turned from the pit, glanced wordlessly at Ininna, then traipsed back into dome one.

Hestia, Urania and Yima were at the airlock door to the hangar. To his surprise, there were two newcomers with them, a girl and a young woman swathed in heavy coats who nonetheless looked half-frozen to death. His surprise grew when he realised that beneath the girl�s vivid purple hair was a face he knew well. After that, the sight of Hestia stroking a strange black cat in her arms was too much for his brain to dwell upon.

�Philyra!� Xuthus cried. �What are you doing here?�

The girl dropped her oxygen mask to the ground, put a finger in her ear and waggled it furiously. Philyra�s annoyed scowl became a grin when she saw Xuthus.

�My ears popped,� she explained, seeing his baffled stare. �Low air pressure, or something. It�s so cold out there! How do you cope in such a place?�

�You were outside without survival suits?� Urania frowned. �You�re insane.�

�No, we�re reporters,� retorted Philyra. �Well, she is. I�m her assistant.�

�Felicity Fornax,� greeted Fornax, shivering. She too carried a mask, while in her other hand was a device Xuthus could not identify. �Reporting for Weird Universe. I hear there�s some cool stuff going down about ancient aliens. May we see?�

�I wouldn�t get involved if I was you,� Yima said cautiously.

�And who might you be?� asked Fornax.

�He is Agent Yima and I am Agent Ininna,� snapped his colleague. Xuthus had not seen her follow from dome two and jumped at the sound of her voice. Both she and Yima had recovered their smug air of authority and her tones were as frosty as the beads of moisture on the end of Fornax�s nose. �This is a Que Qiao security matter. We are in charge here.�

�Not from what I�ve seen,� Hestia murmured.

Fornax gave a wry smile. �Are you one of the archaeologists?� she asked.

�My name is Hestia,� the girl replied meekly, stroking the electric pet. �I�m a student, the same as Xuthus and Urania. How did you get here?�

�We�re with Ravana and her father,� Philyra told her. �That dratted cat is hers.�

Fornax waved for her to keep quiet. �Can you show us what you found, kid?�

�I forbid it!� snapped Ininna. She shouldered past Xuthus and squared up to the reporter. �This is a crime scene. They took our weapons! Official investigators are on their way from Aram and our orders state everyone stays here until they arrive.�

�You said that two days ago,� complained Hestia.

�Since when, Dagan�s weirdo friends have come and taken over,� added Urania.

�She means the Dhusarians,� Xuthus explained to a mystified Philyra.

�They�re right. It�s daft to wait any longer,� Yima said defiantly. �We can�t have cultists dropping out of nowhere to do what they like. We set the rules around here!�

�Which is why I�m here,� Fornax declared. �We�re on the same side, you and I.�

Ininna did not look convinced. �We are?�

Fornax smiled. �I�m here for a story. The best news is always a tale of broken rules.�

Ravana stayed close to Govannon as they hurried down the angled passages of the star chamber. She had wedged the cricket bat back under her belt to leave her hands free to work her slate, retrieved from her belongings in the students� cabin. Behind came Nana, Stripy and then her father, who carried the plasma cannon. Flickering biochemical lamplight glinted upon the rivulets of water that ran down the walls and trickled along the tunnel floor. Ravana touched the dark masonry with tentative fingers and found it damp and slightly sticky to the touch. A hot and humid wind wafted up from below, leaving her drenched in sweat.

�It wasn�t like this when we explored earlier,� Govannon said warily.

�The well at Arallu Depot ruptured during a quake,� Quirinus told him. �Your dig is downstream of a nice new river.�

�This place is incredible,� murmured Ravana. �Is it really an alien temple?�

�Thraak thraak!� Nana�s urgent tones echoed eerily within the tunnel.

Ravana shook her head. �I can�t make out what the translator is showing,� she said, frustrated. Nana and Stripy had been trying to tell her something important ever since she had rescued them from the tent, but the images created by the implant programme verged upon the surreal. �Don�t you have places to worship your gods or whatever?�

Stripy looked annoyed. �Fwack fwack!�

Ravana pulled a face. �Sorry for asking.�

�What did they say?� asked Quirinus.

�Definitely not a temple,� she confirmed. �They�re quite bemused by the idea they do religion. Which is ironic, coming from beings who inspired the Dhusarian Church.�

�No religion, is it?� mused Govannon. �I like them more and more. Talking of Dhusarians, are you sure whoever was in their transport won�t follow us?�

Quirinus grinned. �I jammed their hatch with a spade. They�re not going anywhere.�

Govannon led them around a corner and down another slope. Ravana had seen the other tunnels branching into the darkness and was glad the archaeologist seemed to know where he was going. She could tell by his muted sighs that he had yet to recover from the revelation that his dismissive view of aliens was wrong.

Her own thoughts dwelled upon Taranis� notes on the slate she carried. The priest had decided the Falsafah prophecy was about a meeting between aliens and humankind, but was less clear on how this would come about, nor did his notes shed any light on why Artorius was so important. Taranis had found a description of the star chamber in another part of the Isa-Sastra, only to be baffled by the accompanying mathematical formulae. Ravana did little better, but recognised Krakenspreken�s famous theorem from her engineering classes and puzzled over this reference to extra-dimensional physics.

�I collected some samples for optical dating from where we found Cadmus,� remarked Govannon, interrupting her thoughts. �We dated the outer structure to a hundred thousand years old or so, see? Strange thing is, the central chamber saw sunlight just twelve thousand years ago. What do your err� grey friends know about this place?�

�They recognise it as being built by their kind and that it�s very old,� Ravana told him. �They describe it as an entrance or a door to somewhere.�

�To the afterlife?� suggested Quirinus. �It could be a tomb.�

�Thraak thraak!�

�That�s religious talk,� Govannon said, inadvertently echoing Nana�s retort. �Though Cadmus thought the same. You�ll soon see what he meant.�

�Why won�t you tell us what you saw?� asked Ravana.

�You need to see it with your own eyes,� the archaeologist replied. �Trust me.�

Philyra scowled. The tiny flying robot buzzed close to her head, the searchlight beams of its triple-lens holovid camera illuminating the glistening tunnel walls with bright white light. She was starting to find the heavier gravity tiring, especially when trying to keep up with Fornax, who having recently come from Earth was light on her feet. The reporter�s cambot had recorded nothing but one nondescript damp passageway after another since their first tentative steps into the trench. As their descent continued past the eerie green lamps, Philyra began to wonder whether they would find anything worth reporting at the end of it all. She knew from watching shows like Weird Universe that archaeologists had a tendency to get excited over what viewers saw as amazingly-trivial finds.

�This place is creepy,� she grumbled. �Not to mention slimy. This damp is not good for my hair, you know. It took me ages to get the colour right.�

�The cambot also records sound,� Fornax reminded her. �And it homes in on whoever is speaking. Do you really want your bad hair day documented for posterity?�

�There�s not much else of interest down here,� muttered Philyra.

Ininna and Yima, the Que Qiao agents, were not far behind. They in turn were trailed by Xuthus, Hestia and Urania, who upon hearing the muffled curses of the two Dhusarian pilots as they tried to open their transport�s jammed door, had made it clear they had no intention of remaining in the domes alone. Hestia tried to leave Ravana�s cat behind, but the electric pet had taken a liking to her and kept jumping back into her arms every time she put it down. The students were talking about Ravana, who after her dramatic reappearance had left them in suspense about where she had been the last few weeks.

�She was like a different person,� remarked Hestia. Her luminous locks, currently bright orange, fascinated the cat and she frowned as the pet pawed at her neck with a diamond-tipped claw. �Ravana seemed so shy before.�

�Beheading that robot with a cricket bat was cool,� admitted Xuthus.

�She�s probably a witch,� said Urania. She glowered at the electric pet snug in Hestia�s embrace. �She and that damn cat flew in on a broomstick.�

Xuthus frowned. �Why don�t you like her?�

�Do I need a reason? My father says the refugees��

�Never mind your father,� interrupted Xuthus. �What do you think?�

Urania glared at him. �You�re only sticking up for her because she fancies you.�

�Ravana does not!� snapped Hestia and blushed.

�Afraid of the competition? I�m sorry to break it to you, but you�re not Xuthus� type. Nor it seems is any girl here,� Urania added mischievously. �Isn�t that right, Xuthus?�

Xuthus looked confused. �What do you mean?�

�You�ve barely glanced at Philyra. What she�s wearing would make most boys drool.�

�He does like girls!� protested Hestia. She frowned at Xuthus. �Don�t you?�

Ahead, Ininna spun upon her heels and stared angrily at the three students. Yima, Fornax and Philyra paused and turned to see what was going on.

�Will you be quiet!� Ininna hissed. �How are we supposed to sneak up on the infidel Dhusarians with you making so much racket!�

�Sorry,� Urania murmured.

�Though it was quite illuminating,� added Yima, grinning at Xuthus. �Is it true?�

�What?� retorted Xuthus. �I don�t know what you mean!�

�And you said there was nothing of interest down here,� Fornax chided Philyra.

Govannon led Ravana, Quirinus and the greys down the final slope, towards where the rasping voices of the clones echoed eerily from the tunnels ahead. The descent had taken far longer than Ravana anticipated and the cloying darkness was alive with strange murmurings that teased her nerves to the edge. After a couple of sharp turns Govannon paused, glanced back with a finger to his lips, then carefully crept forward. The right-hand wall before them curved towards a source of light, from where faint human voices could now be discerned alongside the buzzing screeches of the clones. Govannon peered around the corner and with a wave of his hand beckoned to Ravana and Quirinus.

�They�re in the chamber beyond,� he whispered. �Be careful.�

Ravana quietly lowered the cricket bat and her slate to the ground, her father doing likewise with the plasma cannon. Together they cautiously poked their heads around the wall. The passage ended at a tall archway, beyond which lay a space bathed in the glare of mounted floodlights and an odd blue glow from the walls. Standing near a damaged section of wall was the other military android, as defiantly invisible to Ravana�s implant as the first. Although not turned their way, it was undoubtedly scrutinising them with an array of sensors.

Seven figures stood in the chamber. Ravana�s heart skipped a beat at the sight of the hooded monks, who stood with Kedesh, Lilith and Dagan; all of whom she bitterly realised had deceived her one way or another. As a cyberclone began to speak, Ravana reeled under a surge of jagged emotions as her implant homed in on the creature�s telepathic turmoil.

�zz-oorphaaneed-chiild-oof-Sool-zz,� the figure rasped. �zz-kiing-byy-thee-greeaat-gaamee-zz! zz-yyoouu-muust-fuulfiill-yyoouur-deestiinyy-zz!�

�But I don�t know what to do!� wailed a little boy�s voice.

The manacled Artorius stood trembling in the shadows on the far side of the chamber. Next to him, a wavering Jizo took a swig from the bottle in her hand. They were half-hidden by the strange crumpled shape in the dark pool at the centre of the chamber, around which rose a circle of towering rods. Ravana felt a moment of panic when Jizo and Artorius glanced her way, then realised she was concealed behind the floodlight glare. She was relieved to find Artorius unharmed but a rescue seemed hopeless. Nana and Stripy pushed past her to look.

�It�s a weird cocoon with legs,� said Govannon, speaking in a hushed voice.

Ravana was puzzled. �What is?�

�The thing in the middle of the chamber, see?� he whispered. �Although now it looks more like a broken egg. When I was here before the walls weren�t glowing like that and those rods were only so high. There�s what�s left of a dead giant spider as well.�

�Thraak thraak!� cackled Nana.

�I�m more worried about that battlebot,� muttered Quirinus. �How the hell did a bunch of crackpots like these get hold of military hardware?�

The android turned its head and shuffled closer with a steely scrape of feet. Ravana gave Nana a curious stare. She was about to query what the grey had said when she heard footsteps in the tunnel behind. Several people approached in a very noisy fashion.

�Looks like we were followed,� Quirinus murmured.

�Who by?� Govannon said irritably. �A herd of elephants, is it?�

A harsh buzzing filled the air. Ravana ducked as a small rotor-driven robot came from nowhere and whizzed over their heads with lights ablaze. She frowned when she saw intrepid reporters Philyra and Fornax were right behind and hurrying towards her.

�What are you doing?� Ravana whispered. �You were told to stay on the ship!�

�And miss the big story, kid?� scoffed Fornax. �Not likely.�

�Keep your voices down!� hissed Govannon.

Philyra joined Ravana crouching by the wall. Together they watched nervously as Fornax�s flying camera buzzed past the android and into the chamber. Hearing more noise from behind, Ravana turned and groaned. Another two figures appeared in the green-tinged gloom of the tunnel, this time wearing the grumpy countenances of Yima and Ininna.

�Whoopee,� grumbled Quirinus. �The cavalry has arrived.�

Ininna replied with a withering stare, but whatever cutting retort she planned was lost in the din of yet more new arrivals. Govannon looked close to despair at the sight of Xuthus, Urania and Hestia trotting through the ancient alien tunnel with no more urgency than they showed on their way to lectures. Ravana�s cat leapt from Hestia to Stripy and was greeted by a tentative stroke of fur. The crowded passage was suddenly awash with urgent whispers.

�That capsule is a time machine,� Hestia was saying. �You�ll see!�

�It�s from the USS Constellation,� retorted Xuthus. �Well, maybe.�

�This is crazy!� Govannon hissed. �Go back to the dome, the lot of you!�

�I take it all back,� Philyra whispered to Ravana, casting a doubtful eye over Nana and Stripy. �Your aliens are real. But that boy! I know him! It�s Artorius of Avalon!�

Ravana frowned, confused by both Philyra�s recognition of Artorius and the talk of time machines and capsules. The android guard moved again with another clank.

�What are they doing in there?� whispered Yima, peering into the chamber.

�Some weird space-alien ritual, no doubt,� muttered Ininna.

�What do you know about Artorius?� Ravana asked Philyra.

�The boy who came from nowhere to be king! Don�t you watch Gods of Avalon?�

�Keep out of sight!� Quirinus urged. �Do you want to give us away?�

�They can�t see us,� Philyra retorted. A shadow fell upon her. �Whoops.�

Ravana lunged for the plasma cannon but it was too late. Philyra stepped from their hiding place, her hands held high as the android loomed closer, its rifle aimed at her chest. Lilith and Dagan, brandishing the agents� confiscated pistols and looking very unimpressed by the intrusion, stood nearby. With a sigh of resignation, Ravana put down the cannon.

Philyra gave an apologetic grin. �I think we�ve been spotted.�

Ravana watched fearfully as Dagan directed the robot to the far side of the arch to stop anyone leaving. A scowling Lilith led herself, her father and the greys into the chamber.

The heart of the labyrinth, cast into sharp relief by the powerful floodlights, was an awe-inspiring sight. The star-shaped floor and angular alcoves made Ravana picture the alien construction as a giant machine, where she was but a grain of dust drifting past silent cogs poised to whirr into action in the blink of an eye. The pale blue luminescence of the walls revealed the labyrinth�s true scale; looking up, the soaring alcoves and rods made her dizzy and not a little fearful at how far below ground they were. More unnerving was the way the ground trembled with every step she took. The floor was pockmarked by tiny craters in the manner of a volcanic mud pool froze solid, one nevertheless ready to erupt once more.

The tableau at the centre of the chamber was harder to define. Doctor Jones called it a cocoon, but the brown decaying ruin looked like the remains of a hollow tree after a storm. Beyond the inky pool Ravana spied a glint of white, then shivered as her gaze fell upon the tangled giant spider, embedded in the ground. Her headache was getting worse.

�Weird,� muttered Quirinus.

Jizo made as if to hit him with the bottle in her hand, then instead threw it towards the arch. There was a shriek of pain as the last of the Pinot Noir hit Yima�s bandaged arm.

�Silence!� she snapped. Her other hand wielded a slate.

Ravana shot Kedesh a fierce glare, but the woman refused to meet her gaze. Artorius managed a weak smile, despite cheeks streaked with silent tears. Ravana glanced around the chamber and saw for the first time the sad mound of rubble near the wall. The realisation that Professor Cadmus had died at this very spot brought forth an involuntary shudder.

�You said the girl was dead,� Lilith remarked coolly.

�I lied,� said Kedesh. �But I don�t take kindly to people stealing my clothes.�

Ravana gave the woman her best withering look. �Do your feet still hurt?�

�A little bit.�

�Good!�

�zz-siileencee-zz!� screeched one of the monks. Ravana winced as her implant sent a bolt of pain through her skull. The speaker wore the sash patterned with silver lions that belonged to Brother Simha. �zz-wee-haavee-muuch-woork-too-doo-zz.�

�You won�t get away with this,� Ininna called fiercely from the arch. �Threatening officers of the law is a serious offence! We have a team on the way and by the mighty Allah all hell will break loose when they get here and find out what you�ve done!�

�No one is coming for you,� retorted Dagan, waggling the gun in his hand. He had stayed at the arch to guard those huddled in the short length of passage beyond.

�It�s still all on holovid,� said Quirinus, glancing up at Fornax�s buzzing cambot.

�What do you want with Artorius?� asked Ravana. �He�s just a little boy.�

�And you�re just a girl,� sneered Jizo. �We don�t answer to you.�

�zz-thee-booyy-iis-aall-thaat-maatteers-zz,� buzzed the second cyberclone, who wore the archers motif of Brother Dhanus. �zz-hee-muust-doo-oouur-biiddiing-zz.�

�zz-oorphaaneed-chiild-oof-Sool-zz,� rasped Simha. The clone grabbed Artorius by the shoulder and turned him towards the towering circle of rods, causing the boy to release a trembling cry. �zz-iin-yyoouur-heeaad-bee-iit-zz!�

The creatures� shrieks clawed at Ravana�s thoughts. Jizo sidled to the dead spider, broke off a chunk of dried flesh and popped a piece in her mouth, all whilst idly scrutinising the slate in her hands. Simha released Artorius� manacles and led him onto the narrow circle of ground between the rods and the dark pool. With a sniff, the boy nervously looked around the chamber, ran a hand across a snotty nose and started to cry.

�Help me,� he wailed quietly. �I don�t know what to do.�

�Brother Cadmus was meant to help,� muttered Lilith. �The boy knows nothing.�

�Professor Cadmus?� exclaimed Ravana. A chorus of surprised gasps echoed from Govannon and his student archaeologists in the archway. �He was a Dhusarian?�

The clones stood unmoving behind Artorius. A hush fell upon the scene, broken only by an uneasy cough and shuffle of feet from Dagan and the buzzing of the cambot high above their heads. Ravana felt Nana take her hand. A cat-shaped blur loped from the shadows and she guessed her electric pet had escaped Stripy�s clutches. It was then she heard a plaintive meow and saw her cat still clutched firmly in the grey�s embrace.

�What�?� she murmured.

�A fascinating situation, don�t you think?� purred a voice in her ear.

Ravana slowly turned her head. Standing there was Athene, resplendent as ever in her floor-length silver and black fur coat. The watcher smiled, stepped up to Lilith and playfully waved a hand before the woman�s scowl to demonstrate that the nurse and everyone else were oblivious to her presence. Ravana thought about their meeting on Hursag Asag and how the mysterious stranger had apparently frozen time, but on this occasion she could hear nervous murmurs from the captives awaiting the Dhusarians� next move. Then she saw Kedesh�s wide-eyed stare across the room and realised Athene was visible to at least one other.

�zz-thee-booyy-muust-fuulfiil-hiis-deestiinyy-zz!� demanded Dhanus.

�zz-maasteers-aand-slaavees-uuniitee-aas-oonee-zz!� screeched Simha.

�I am the ghost in the machine,� Athene said gaily. �Invisible to all but my two star players. Have you done your homework?�

�The Dhusarians trained Artorius to communicate with the greys,� Ravana whispered cautiously, hoping her reply would not raise suspicions. Kedesh�s unsubtle attempt to attract her attention by waving was not helping. �They think the prophecy brought him here to unite all believers. Plus something about slaves and masters.�

�Prophecies!� scoffed Quirinus. �Sounds like that stupid Gods of Avalon show.�

�But who are the slaves?� Athene teased. �Who are the masters?�

Ravana shook her head irritably. Her headache was worse than ever. Her implant startled her with an alert in her mind�s eye, which turned out to be Kedesh trying to reach her via a headcom call. She came close to refusing it, but there was such a look of anguish in the woman�s woeful expression that she relented and with a mental jab opened the channel.

�Ravana, I�m so sorry,� whispered Kedesh. She barely moved her lips, but in the girl�s head the words came loud and clear. She shot a frosty glance at Athene. �I caught you on the back foot and bowled a googly, but I�m not the rogue player here.�

�You handed Artorius to Jizo and put me to sleep!� Ravana hissed angrily. She had yet to fathom how to use the headcom in a voiceless fashion. Both her father and Lilith were giving her some very odd looks. �You told them I was dead!�

�That was to stop them coming after you,� Kedesh countered.

The cyberclones turned to one another and released a barrage of muted high-pitched shrieks. Athene sprang lightly across the pool to the broken cocoon, picked up a limb and comically waved it in Jizo�s face. Unaware of the watcher�s performance, the nurse growled, threw away her half-eaten spider cutlet and grabbed Artorius by the shoulders.

�Taranis said you are the one,� she slurred, shaking him angrily. She shoved the screen of her slate into his face. �What does this mean? You have to know!�

�Hey!� Kedesh pulled Jizo away. �Leave him alone, you drunk!�

�Better drunk than ugly,� Jizo retorted and pushed Kedesh aside. �In the morning I�ll be sober, but you�ll still have the face of a bearded goat.�

Ravana gave Kedesh a disdainful look. �It�s a bit late to show concern.�

�I�m sorry I had to field Artorius,� she replied, her voice once again a headcom-amplified murmur. �You were supposed to stay away! I knocked you for six for your own good. I had an escape all planned until you blundered in with a gift of hostages.�

�You had a plan?� asked Ravana, frowning.

�Actually, no. I�m making it up as I go along.�

Ravana scowled and silenced her headcom. Lilith sighed, stepped into the circle, wrestled the slate from Jizo�s grip and studied the screen. After a pause, she led Artorius to the nearest rod and placed his hands upon a series of faint indentations just visible at shoulder height. The arc of six ovals, delineated in blue against grey, was a pattern Ravana recognised from a sketch made by Taranis in his notes. Athene�s playful grin became a perturbed frown.

Artorius looked distraught. �I don�t know what you want me to do!�

�These marks are important,� said Lilith. �Perhaps the greys can guide you.�

�Those pitiful creatures?� sneered Jizo. �Don�t make me laugh!�

�Fwack fwack,� muttered Stripy, sounding deeply offended.

�Thraak.� Nana tugged Ravana�s arm. �Thraak thraak.�

Quirinus gave his daughter a quizzical look. �What did they say?�

�The rods open something,� she said. The translator images were far from clear. Athene�s baleful yellow stare narrowed, seemingly in disapproval of the greys� contribution. �Something big and swirly that could be a door. Or not,� she added hastily.

�Rubbish!� retorted Athene. �You haven�t a clue.�

�Think hard!� Lilith urged Artorius. �We haven�t got Cadmus to help us now.�

Jizo stomped up, snatched the agent�s gun from Lilith and fired a shot into the air. Startled shrieks echoed from the archway, followed by a sudden hush and then a crunch as Fornax�s camera fell from the air and smashed to the ground. With an angry snarl, Jizo tossed the gun back to Lilith, wrapped her sausage-like digits around Artorius� own left hand and twisted hard. There was a muffled snap and he screamed.

�I have run out of patience, Mister Arty-Farty!� Jizo screamed. �Do your duty!�

�My finger!� Artorius wailed. �You broke my finger!�

�You shot my cambot!� Fornax shouted angrily from the archway.

A cloud of dust drifted from the ceiling. Quirinus lunged at Jizo as if to grab her, but was brought up short by the gun in Lilith�s hand, now pointing his way.

�You twisted evil freak!� Ravana shrieked to Jizo. �How could you?�

�That�s just not cricket,� Kedesh murmured, looking perturbed.

Ravana dashed across to comfort the weeping and wounded Artorius, who clung to the rod like a stormed-wracked sailor at the mast of his boat. Nurse Jizo, the macabre joker from the fake clinic had gone; the version of Jizo now before them was clearly insane. Alarmed by the commotion, Dagan left his prisoners and came closer. Ravana glanced towards the arch and wondered if anyone was ready to grab the cannon. She caught a glint of reflected light, then groaned in despair at the sight of Xuthus and Urania calmly recording the scene on their wristpads. Her cat, having wriggled free from Stripy�s grip, was busily chewing the pieces of Fornax�s fallen cambot.

Jizo looked at Artorius in disgust. �Be thankful it was just a finger.�

�Don�t you dare touch him again!� yelled Ravana.

�Then cooperate!� growled Jizo. �Or I�ll break the rest, one by one.�

Ravana�s gaze flew desperately about the chamber. Her mind whirled with what she had seen in Taranis� notes and all that the greys had tried to tell her. When she first entered the chamber she had imagined it as a machine; what struck her now was the resemblance between the soaring triangular alcoves and the grooves of a rifle barrel. The similarity made her think of how it was aligned, perpendicular to the solid rock of Falsafah below.

�Shooting into a gravity well,� she murmured, suddenly inspired. �And beyond.�

�What was that?� snapped Jizo.

�Right angles to reality,� Ravana said slowly, still holding Artorius. The equations that had puzzled the priest now made sense. �A door through space-time, like that created by an ED drive, but on land. You think your gods are waiting on the other side.�

Dhanus turned to face her. �zz-iin-yyoouur-heeaad-bee-iit-zz.�

�zz-aand-bee-it-iin-yyoouurs-zz!� Simha screeched to Artorius.

�A lucky guess,� mumbled Athene, scowling. Ravana gave a wry smile.

Lilith looked thoughtful. Jizo scowled and swayed unsteadily before them, her mouth open ready to speak. Lilith raised her hand to stop her and beckoned to Ravana.

�Come and see this,� she said. �Tell me what you think.�

�Be careful!� urged her father.

Ravana gave the sobbing Artorius a hug and hesitantly followed Lilith to the far side of the pool. The white coffin-shaped capsule, wearing its stars and stripes, came as a shock. Ravana had barely registered Xuthus� remark about the lost flight to Alpha Centauri but recognised the pod for what it was, having seen old cryogenic units at the spacecraft breaking yards on Ascension. It looked very out of place in the alien chamber.

Her silent stare moved to the crumpled arachnid and a shiver ran down her spine. Equally perturbing were the sharp-edged gouges across the creature�s bulbous head, which looked like the interrupted cuts of a surgeon. Kedesh came to her side.

�Thraak thraak,� said Nana. The grey�s voice sounded oddly distant.

�The capsule and spider,� Ravana murmured. �Did they arrive together?�

�It must have spun a hell of a web to catch a frozen astronaut,� said Kedesh.

�Astronaut?� retorted Jizo. �Go on, show them.�

Lilith knelt before the capsule and pressed a concealed catch. Ravana expected the hiss of gas or a puff of vapour, but there was nothing. Lilith took hold of the lid and lifted it open. Athene sprang to look and Ravana shuddered as the watcher�s visage momentarily slipped into the fang-toothed crone she saw on Hursag Asag.

�zz-froozeen-traaveelleer-creeaateed-aaneew-zz,� intoned Simha.

�zz-reeboorn-beeneeaath-twiin-suuns-zz,� screeched Dhanus.

Ravana glanced towards Artorius. �Surely you don�t think�?�

She left her sentence unfinished. Through her implant she felt the fierce passion of the cyberclones, a cruel wash of emotions shaped from shards of pain. Taranis� disciples were half alien and part machine; all manner of ideas may have been implanted in their minds during their creation. In her eyes Artorius was but an innocent little boy, one who had already suffered too much at the hands of Jizo. Ravana did not want him to suffer any more.

�Nana, Stripy,� she said. �This portal. Is it something you can open?�

�Fwack fwack!�

�Thraak thraak.�

Ravana�s implant translator flickered with the strange chain-gang image from their confrontation with Missi�s spiders. The unmistakeable odour of alien flatulence filled the air.

�Enough of your horrid games,� Ravana told Jizo tartly. �The greys will fulfil Artorius� so-called destiny and then we�re out of here. All of us.�

�Don�t do it,� Athene said suddenly. �You have no idea what�s on the other side.�

Jizo gave Ravana a venomous glare. �Your move, demon king.�

ZOTZ WAS THE FIRST to react upon hearing the ship�s alert of an incoming message and was at the holovid console before a dozing Momus had time to move his feet out of the way. With everyone else away in the domes, the mood within the Platypus simmered in an air of nervous anticipation. The AI�s gentle beep had a similar impact to a meteorite strike.

�It�s Endymion,� said Zotz, startled. �Calling from Newbrum.�

The on-screen holding message cleared to reveal a grinning Endymion and a tentative-looking Ostara, both of whom were squeezed into a holovid booth clearly not designed to seat two. Judging by distant announcements and the chaotic background scene, they were in a public booth at the spaceport. The image jerked and occasionally froze, for the signal from Ascension�s servermoon was coming direct to the Platypus rather than via Aram and the ship�s transceiver was having problems smoothing the incoming chunks of data.

�Hi Endymion, Ostara,� greeted Zotz, with a wave at the screen.

�I got Quirinus� message,� Ostara said excitedly, before Endymion could speak. �I�m so glad Ravana is safe! Where are you now? Are they there with you?�

Momus� response was not so enthusiastic. �They�re off rescuing some brat from a bunch of frigging Dhusarian nutcases,� he grumbled.

�We�re still on Falsafah, at the dig,� added Zotz, feeling he should clarify the man�s summary of the situation. �Two of Taranis� cyberclones are here. Ravana says the Dhusarians are being really horrible and have taken this boy somewhere for a silly prophecy.�

�That�s why we�re calling!� cried Endymion. �The Church was after Taranis� Book of the Greys. All my stuff on the servermoon was hacked and the copy I kept has gone.�

�We�ve also traced some of the other clones,� Ostara said hesitantly. �I�ve a horrible feeling all twelve survived.�

�What?� Zotz looked worried. �Where are they?�

�Two were seen in Yao Chi on Taotie,� she said. �Another two on Asgard. Endymion has been brilliant and asked all his spaceport contacts for sightings of their ship.�

�The Atterberg Epiphany,� said Momus. �Black flying wing?�

Endymion looked surprised. �How do you know?�

�Because I�m staring at the bloody thing right now,� retorted Momus. �What about the frigging mad priest himself? Don�t tell me he�s still around.�

Zotz went pale. �Taranis?�

Ostara however just shrugged. �We don�t know. I found someone from the Newbrum church willing to talk and the word being put out is that Taranis has �ascended to a higher plane�, whatever that means,� she said. �The scary thing is that they see the appearance of the cyberclones as the start of something big. Having someone like Nyx in charge also worries me. It seems wrong to have a police officer involved in all this.�

�Something big,� mused Momus. �Just my frigging luck to be in the middle of it all.�

�We�ll be back as soon as we can,� Zotz promised.

�Be careful,� said Ostara, pensively. Endymion tapped her shoulder and pointed to something off screen. �We�re about to run out of credits. See you��

The holovid screen went blank, then switched to a generic servermoon status screen. Momus killed the connection, leaned back in his seat and looked thoughtfully at Zotz. He reached to the console again and opened a voice channel to Quirinus� wristpad.

�Captain?� he called. �We�ve had news from Newbrum. Are you receiving me?�

A hiss of static wafted from the cabin speakers. There was no response.

�Ship?� Zotz sounded hesitant. �Is Ravana using her implant?�

�The link is active but Miss O�Brien is out of range,� the AI replied.

�Wonderful,� muttered Momus.

�It is an archaeology dig,� Zotz said hesitantly. �They might be underground.�

�The calm before a frigging storm,� said Momus. His gaze moved from the Atterberg Epiphany to the Alf-Sana Booma, just visible beyond the domes. �It�s a bit bloody crowded for my liking. I don�t want to be last off this crappy planet when all hell breaks loose.�

Zotz knew he meant they would need to get people back aboard fast. His own stare was upon the Dhusarians� transport linked to the nearby dome. The flexible walkway tunnel had multi-purpose vacuum couplings that could link to anything with a hatch, assuming they could get the transport out of the way. His gaze caught the road-laying machine parked in the desert near the end of the runway and he smiled.

�Captain Momus?� asked Zotz. �Do you have your spacesuit handy?�

Ravana stared warily at the cloaked figures and shuddered. The cyberclone monks had lowered their hoods to expose their lizard-like features and paced restlessly from one rod to the next. The staccato chants that left their lips were neither their customary screeching English nor anything the translator could decipher. Her implant pulsed wave upon wave of the clones� anger into her headache, tightening the noose upon her mind.

She knew a limitation of all cyberclones was they lacked initiative. Jizo appeared to be their controller, but without Cadmus the nurse seemed lost. It was the greys who now led the way. Stripy, scrutinising a nearby rod, ran nimble fingers over the faint indentations Ravana had seen earlier. Nana had clambered across to the remains of the crumbled cocoon and was rummaging through the debris as if looking for something.

A tearful Artorius stood between Ravana and Jizo, clutching his mutilated hand. The nurse, her meaty palm clamped upon the boy�s shoulder, had ordered Quirinus to join them within the circle of rods so that Lilith could keep her gun upon them all. Dagan was back on guard at the archway, masked from view by the bright floodlights. Behind Lilith, not far from where her electric cat chewed fitfully upon the remains of the cambot, Ravana saw Kedesh surreptitiously kneeling by the cryogenic capsule. Athene had once again vanished from sight. Ravana suspected they had not seen the last of the watcher.

�What�s that?� demanded Jizo. Her slurred words were aimed at Kedesh, who was edging away from the capsule with a curved box in her hands. �What are you doing?�

�It�s the waste disposal cartridge,� Kedesh explained sheepishly. �With any luck it�ll contain DNA samples. When this is over, we can find out who or what was inside.�

�Artorius is not their star man!� Ravana said defensively.

�zz-oorphaaneed-chiild-oof-Sool-zz,� screeched Dhanus.

�zz-hiiddeen-byy-slaavees-aand-maasteers-zz!� shrieked Simha.

�Yes, but as a theory, it�s not very scientific, is it?� Kedesh protested.

A sudden deep-throated groan, born from the bowels of the planet, rolled across the chamber. Ravana and her father exchanged nervous glances, then both jumped in alarm as a curtain of ethereal blue light leapt from one grey rod to the next. A split second later there came a loud crack, followed by a shriek from Artorius. All twelve columns began to creep sideways, grinding anti-clockwise around the pool. Each upright rod gouged a deep arc as it moved, which quickly merged to slice a huge circular gash in the trembling ground. Finding herself in the way, Lilith gave a strangled cry and leapt back to avoid being hit. The rods continued to slide by, leaving Ravana with the impression that she and others within the circle were trapped inside a slowly-rotating cage. A faint blue glow issued from the shifting rods, creating a hazy column of light.

�What�s happening?� asked Jizo, startled. �Why are they moving?�

�Thraak,� Nana said gaily. �Thraak thraak thraak!�

�Fwack fwack,� confirmed Stripy.

�They�re opening the door,� murmured Artorius, his face pale.

The cyberclones released guttural shrieks and stopped. A storm of emotions leeched from Ravana�s implant, yet the translator images of the greys� cries came through clear. It was the same picture of hope that had kept her going ever since their escape from the Dhusarians� dome. The conversation in the stolen transport, when she and Artorius had asked Nana and Stripy about their home world, came vividly back to mind. Talk of doors and portals and trees in space was not enough to express what the star chamber meant to the greys. Artorius slipped free of Jizo�s grip and gave Ravana a hug.

�A way home,� Ravana said in wonder. �They�ve found a way back home!�

�You really should not be doing this,� an angry voice purred in her ear.

Ravana scowled at the ice-smooth tones of the watcher. She turned to the figure who had appeared beside her and stifled a shriek. Athene�s youthful visage was twisted in a cruel grimace of lips curled around bared incisors and the cold yellow stare of a hunter preparing for the kill. Earlier, Fornax had described watchers as alien cat gods. Athene looked ready to give Ravana�s Hindu namesake some serious competition in the vengeful deity stakes.

�zz-oopeen-thee-doooor-zz!� shrieked Dhanus.

On the other side of Artorius, Jizo swayed uneasily before the rotating circle of rods, her mask of confidence in tatters. Ravana saw Kedesh�s eyes follow Athene, who began to pace restlessly around the pool as the clones had done before her. No one else appeared to be aware of the watcher�s presence.

Ravana felt Artorius� tight embrace and saw his tearful gaze become a look of awe. Nana and Stripy approached, bearing the dignified calm of visiting diplomats. In Nana�s hands was a glistening green globe, no bigger than a fist, made of what looked like damp leather that nonetheless sparkled in the blue luminescence of the chamber walls. The elderly grey shuffled to a halt and offered it to Ravana.

�Thraak,� Nana said solemnly. �Thraak thraak.�

�Err� thanks,� said Ravana, nonplussed. �What is it?�

�Just what you always wanted,� muttered Quirinus. �Fossilised spider snot.�

Artorius frowned. �Where�s mine?�

�You can�t do this!� Athene looked angrier than ever. �You�re changing the rules!�

The watcher�s reaction puzzled Ravana. Nana held out the globe with a gaze of both sadness and joy. Ravana gingerly took the mysterious gift in her hands and found it light and surprisingly dry to the touch. Feeling she should present something in return, she remembered what was in her pocket and withdrew the silver-wrapped packet.

�Would you like some cake?� she asked.

Nana gratefully took the offering. �Thraak thraak!�

�Good call,� Kedesh murmured approvingly.

�What a sweet little scene!� said Jizo, adopting a mocking tone. �I have a present for you, mister star man. Would you like to see it?�

Quirinus and Kedesh exchanged worried glances. Ravana hissed a warning and tried to pull the boy away. Artorius looked to the looming presence of Jizo, then down at her clenched fingers and hesitantly nodded. As he moved closer to see what the nurse held, she grabbed his ear and gave it a vicious twist. The greys shrieked.

�Ow!� screamed Artorius. �That hurt!�

�I�ll rip off both your ears if you don�t get a move on!�

Nana stopped shrieking and tugged Ravana�s arm. Stripy scooped the electric pet from the floor and hugged it tight, not seeming to mind that the cat was more interested in the half-eaten shreds of cambot between its claws. Ravana realised the circling rods moved much more rapidly than before and caught the anxiety in the greys� behaviour.

�Fwack fwack,� urged Stripy. �Fwack fwack.�

�Thraak thraak,� reiterated Nana.

Kedesh caught the girl�s glance and nodded. �Time to declare, I think.�

�Really?� Ravana retorted scornfully. �Back on my side, are you?�

�I never left it! I was batting for you, all the way.�

�zz-iin-yyoouur-heeaad-bee-iit-zz!� chanted the clones. �zz-oopeen-thee-doooor-zz!�

�No!� cried Athene. �Don�t listen to those brain-washed cyber-boneheads!�

Ravana approached the rods and watched them sweep from right to left before her, each trailing a faint blue mist. The rotating cage soared to the distant ceiling and her blood ran cold at the thought they were somehow trapped inside. She tentatively raised her right hand and pushed her fingers through the luminous vapour swirling between the moving rods.

Her father looked nervous. �Be careful!� he urged.

�My hand goes right through the light,� Ravana said, relieved. �There was me thinking it was some sort of force� Ow!�

She reeled in agony as the next rod swept up, caught her wrist and released a surge of static into her weak arm. The shock sent her spinning backwards and with a shriek she crashed to the floor like a wounded ballerina. The green globe remained tight in her grasp as she fell and in the midst of her pain she was convinced it momentarily flickered with miniature starlight. She landed at Kedesh�s feet, who like Artorius had gone pale.

�Ravana!� cried Quirinus. He rushed to her side. �Are you okay?�

�zz-oopeen-thee-doooor-zz!� the clones shrieked again. �zz-oopeen-thee-doooor-zz!�

�Better do as the lizard men say,� sneered Jizo. �They eat people like you.�

�You�d make a veritable banquet, my fat pickled friend,� growled Athene.

Ravana climbed to her feet, rubbed her aching arm and froze. Jizo looked ready to hit her back to the floor, but it was something else that had caught the girl�s eye.

The dark swirling surface of the pool bubbled and churned like the brew of a witch�s cauldron. As Ravana stared, the shattered cocoon tilted and slid aside, wallowing on a wave that rose from the depths. There was a hiss of liquid, then all of a sudden a huge glistening mass of smooth skin and spindly legs erupted from the pool.

Artorius screamed. Ravana, rooted to the spot in terror, did likewise. The egg-shaped mass rising before them had eight insect-like legs, emerging from the top to bend downwards into the pool. Several dreadful moments passed before Ravana realised what she feared to be a giant spider was nothing of the sort. Standing twice her height, with a mottled green surface streaked with veins, it was like no living thing she had ever seen.

The rising hulk shuddered to a halt. An oval aperture broke open in the side, revealing a space within that glowed with a faint pink light. Startled, Ravana stared as what looked like a tongue appeared below the aperture and rolled across the pool towards them. She remembered Govannon�s description of what he had seen on his previous visit and gazed in wonder at the multi-limbed cocoon. The incredible thought struck her that it was some sort of vehicle, conjured from the depths to replace the one crumbled to dust.

�Thraak,� Nana confirmed solemnly. �Thraak thraak.�

�Fwack fwack,� added Stripy.

Tears gathered in Ravana�s eyes. She did not need her implant translator to tell her that the greys had come to say goodbye. It was then she saw Jones, her childhood electric pet she had once called Fluffy, snug and content in Stripy�s arms. Her first reaction was a sharp pang of panic at the thought of having her erratic mechanical companion of ten years taken away. Yet behind this was the acceptance it was time to break this last link with childhood. Ravana had not felt the same way about the cat since seeing the infestation of tendrils within and would not miss the reminder of what the silver lines in her own scars might really be. The beautiful expression upon Stripy�s face told her the moment was right for her furry electric friend to start an adventure all of its own.

�Goodbye, my friends,� she said sadly. �Take good care of Jones for me.�

Artorius started crying. �I don�t want them to go!�

The cyberclones moved to stand either side of Jizo, near the dead spider on the far side of the churning pool. Ravana thought the nurse looked far too smug for her own good.

�zz-thee-booyy-iis-thee-oonee-zz,� declared Dhanus. �zz-thee-oold-oonees-haavee-doonee-hiis-biiddiing-zz. zz-iit-iis-tiimee-too-weelcoomee-oouur-saaviioouurs-zz!�

�zz-beeliieeveers-uuniitee-aas-oonee-zz!� Simha cried fiercely.

�Thraak thraak!� retorted Nana.

The grey reached out and placed a tender hand upon Ravana�s arm. Before the girl could respond, Nana and Stripy turned and hastened across the tongue-like walkway to the cocoon. Her mind whirling, Ravana watched them clamber through the oval opening and settle into what looked like seats. Her eyes widened as the skin of the strange cocoon became a web of glowing threads, brought to life by the presence of the greys.

Athene stomped towards the oval opening and glowered. Jizo turned her perturbed grimace from the greys and issued a hushed command to the cyberclones. Simha and Dhanus immediately came towards Ravana and Artorius from opposite sides of the pool, their sinister silhouettes moving like phantoms before the accelerating blue blur of the rods. Ravana caught Kedesh�s expression and knew the woman was equally at a loss as to what Nana, Stripy or the Dhusarians planned to do next. The greys� earlier warning made it clear they could not remain within the circle but Ravana felt trapped.

�This doesn�t feel right,� growled Jizo. �Your grey friends should not be here!�

The clones stepped nearer. Ravana saw the watcher moping near the cocoon and the fateful lines of the Isa-Sastra popped into her head.

�Don�t you see?� she remarked, suddenly inspired. She gave the nurse her best earnest look. �All around us, paw-prints of the gods!�

�How the hell did you work that out?� asked Kedesh, taken aback.

�She knows nothing!� spat Athene. �This is no game for mortals!�

Ravana cast a wary eye at Kedesh. She had not forgotten the mention of watchers in the so-called prophecy and wondered if her improvised distraction had hit upon a fundamental truth. The speeding rods told her to leave the theological debate for later. Stripy and Nana sat busily waving their arms around inside the cocoon, the cat on the younger grey�s lap. Ravana imagined them in an aircraft cockpit, setting controls for departure.

�The watchers are stirring!� she declared. Her father stared opened-mouthed at his daughter�s defiant display. �Their paw-prints have led us to this place. They are here!�

With a dramatic flourish, Ravana pointed to the cat just visible through the cocoon�s oval door. Her former pet looked up and gave a plaintive meow.

There was a timeless pause. An incredulous Jizo approached the edge of the pool and stared at the greys and their adopted electric pet. Ravana bundled Artorius towards the edge of the circle and peered into the groove left by the moving rods. The crevasse was narrow but deep and easily capable of breaking a misplaced ankle. The rods zoomed past so rapidly they made whooshing sounds as each went by. They were almost out of time.

�Behold!� cried Ravana, as Jizo turned back. �The greys have been chosen to serve!�

�The cat?� Jizo gave a drunken suspicious leer. �A watcher?�

Kedesh caught the glint in Ravana�s eye. �Oh, yes. That�s a watcher all right.�

Stripy picked up the cat and looked it in the face. �Fwack fwack!�

�What?� shrieked Athene. �That mangy bag of wires is nothing like me!�

�That rubbish about alien cat gods is real?� asked Quirinus.

�Rubbish?� The enraged look of disgust upon the watcher�s face was almost comical, not that anyone else but Ravana and Kedesh could see it. �How dare you!�

The cyberclone monks turned to the cocoon and raised their hands to the greys. Ravana flinched as a wave of pain crashed through her head. To her surprise, the torrent of sensations bleeding from her implant carried a fear not entirely her own. The electric pet, whose AI chip contained brain cells cloned from those harvested from greys, had been there at the birth of Taranis� disciples, who in turn had recognised the fragment of alien within. Yet the two now before her accepted her bluff. Incredibly, they were scared of her cat.

�zz-paawn-too-waatcheers-aand-maasteers-zz,� cried Dhanus, looking at Stripy.

�zz-waatcheers-too-hiistooryy-stiir-zz!� Simha screeched.

�zz-paaw-priints-oof-thee-goods-zz!� rasped Dhanus.

�No it�s not!� cried Athene, exasperated. �It�s just a silly children�s toy!�

The floor of the chamber shook again and Ravana grabbed Artorius in alarm. Beneath their feet, the ground was softening into quicksand. Kedesh hurriedly drew her pistol, limped to the whirling rods and with a sudden leap was through a gap and out of the circle. Before either Lilith or Dagan could move, Kedesh had them in her sights and was ordering them to drop their own guns. Artorius tugged Ravana�s arm and reached out to the greys.

�Nana and Stripy!� he wailed. �Don�t leave me!�

�Get out of there!� called Kedesh. �Now!�

�zz-waatcheers-aand-maasteers-zz!� cried Dhanus. �zz-thee-tiimee-iis-neeaar-zz!�

Quirinus scooped Artorius into his arms and lunged towards the rods. The boy barely had time for a surprised yelp before they were through to the other side. Ravana tried to follow, but her boots had sunk into the floor and she found herself trapped. Jizo plucked herself free from the soft ground and lurched unsteadily towards her.

�What�s the matter?� sneered Jizo. �Trapped like a fly in a spider�s web?�

�Stay away from me!� Ravana yelled.

The cocoon�s walkway tongue snapped back, the oval squeezed shut and the bobbing heads of the greys were lost from sight. Jizo lunged to grab one of the spindly legs and stumbled upon the quivering ground. Within the rods, the floor was liquefying and puffing spurts of gas like tiny volcanoes. The pool continued to churn, only now its dark contents were being dragged around by the rods into the beginnings of a whirlpool.

Athene watched Ravana�s panic-stricken struggles with glee. In a blink of an eye, the watcher metamorphosed into an owl-shaped blur and fluttered to the top of the cocoon, where she once again took human form, looking more like a deranged goddess than ever. The rods spun ever faster, filling the air with a loud eerie humming. Ravana realised Athene had finally revealed herself to all. Every stare of amazement in the chamber was turned her way.

�You win today!� cried Athene. �But the game is not over!�

�Where the hell did she come from?� cried Quirinus, beyond the whirling rods.

�It doesn�t matter!� Ravana snapped. �I�m stuck! Get me out of here!�

Kedesh immediately leapt back through the rods and came to her side. Ravana felt an arm pulling at her waist, then she was free and being dragged past the whirring columns. As she picked herself up from the floor at Artorius� and Quirinus� feet, she saw her father had retrieved the agents� stolen guns and had them trained upon a cowering Lilith and Dagan.

�Ravana!� Quirinus exclaimed. �Are you okay?�

�Just about,� she said, wincing. She had fallen on her weak arm. �Kedesh, thank you.�

�I owed you one,� Kedesh replied. �That was a particularly sticky wicket.�

An anguished scream drew their attention back to the spinning rods. Jizo stood within, her arm and forehead covered in blood from where she tried to follow but misjudged the leap. The clones resumed their chants and paced within the circular blue glow. Above, the ethereal spectre of the watcher loomed large through the gaps of the whizzing rods.

�You have no idea what you have unleashed!� Athene cried. �Your masters awake!�

Something strange was happening to the chamber floor within the circle. The ground sank into a funnel, drawing the cocoon into the centre. Jizo and the clones scrabbled for a foothold at the edge, perilously close to the speeding rods. Artorius clutched Ravana�s hand and with his other gave a wave of wounded digits.

�Goodbye Stripy,� he said sadly. There were tears in his eyes. �Goodbye Nana.�

Ravana gasped. The funnel suddenly opened upon the mind-twisting spectacle of a negative universe. Tiny dark stars lay strewn across blindingly-white space in a reality-warping vision of infinity. The circle had become a doorway, a sublime classical portico into a grand corridor of inverse space-time, incomparable to the fleeting ragged wormhole of an ED drive. The chamber basked in the light of alien suns, at the centre of which sat the greys� mysterious chariot, its spindly legs gripping the mouth of the funnel like the runners of a sleigh. It was alien engineering beyond comprehension and truly beautiful to behold.

�My word,� whispered Kedesh. �It�s full of stars! Err� black ones.�

�An extra-dimensional egg,� Quirinus murmured. �Now I�ve seen everything.�

The spinning rods became a tornado-like frenzy. The cryogenic capsule toppled and with the dead spider was promptly sucked into oblivion. The cocoon remained a few more moments, then dropped silently through the inverse starry whirlpool and into the void.

�Nana and Stripy!� shrieked Artorius. �Where have they gone?�

�Home,� said Ravana. She looked at Nana�s strange gift, which despite everything was still in her hand. �I hope they know where they�re going.�

The light within the portal began to fade. The rods continued to whirl, beyond which the faint outlines of Jizo and the two clones were still visible, perched precariously at the edge of the vortex. Lilith and Dagan solemnly drew near Ravana, Quirinus, Kedesh and Artorius, all temporarily united by shock. Fearful murmurs came from the others huddled in the archway behind them. Ravana�s headache pounded as fiercely as ever.

�I saw a woman,� Dagan whispered. �Sitting on top of that thing!�

�Brothers Dhanus and Simha,� said Lilith. �Can we get them out of there?�

�What about your fellow nurse?� sneered Kedesh. �She caused all this.�

�Stuff Jizo,� Lilith retorted. �Mad drunken psycho.�

�Stuff them all,� growled Quirinus. �I�ve had enough craziness for one day.�

�Look!� Ravana cried, pointing. �There�s something coming back up!�

A dark shape rose from the glowing vortex. At first Ravana thought it was the return of the cocoon, then a shiver ran down her spine as a huge black bulk hauled itself from the funnel on long hairy legs. Behind it followed another, then another. Anguish surged through her implant, sending her reeling before she even heard the cyberclones� shrieks. She opened her mouth to scream, but Jizo got there first with a wild banshee wail.

�Weavers!� hissed Kedesh.

�What the hell�?� murmured Quirinus.

�Ashtapadas,� moaned Ravana, holding her head. �Why did it have to be spiders?�

The monster arachnids clambered from the portal to the edge of the spinning rods. Jizo leapt frantically from one set of snapping jaws to another, tried to jump through a gap in the moving rods and was thrown to the floor. The cyberclone monks raised their hands and shrieked again. Ravana winced under their barrage of concentrated pulses of anger, which felt like they were trying to ward off the invaders by thought alone. The chamber quickly filled with the chattering of mandibles, punctuated by sharp cracks as creatures fell against the whirling rods and were catapulted back across the vortex in a tangle of legs.

Ravana stared mesmerised at the ever-increasing tumbling mass of spiders. Her fear turned to horror at the sight of Jizo under attack. The nurse�s screams of terror mingled with the defiant screeches of Simha and Dhanus, then with one last searing spike of anguish the pain in Ravana�s head was gone. A glimpse of Jizo and the cyberclones prone upon the floor, overrun by snapping jaws and trampling limbs, gave way to the grotesque spectacle of a pair of spiders scrabbling over them to wrap their twitching bodies in silk.

The scene of thrashing legs and pulsating bodies gradually became clearer through the blue-tinged blur of the rods. The funnel of the alien portal was closing, the whirring circle slowing to a halt. Ravana felt a cold shudder of dread.

�The rods,� she said in alarm. �They�re stopping!�

�I don�t like this,� sobbed Artorius.

�Giant spiders,� growled Quirinus. �Any chance they�re friendly?�

An arachnid suddenly burst from the writhing mass, ricocheted off a moving rod and to their horror flew through into the chamber beyond. The spider untangled its legs and with scything jaws made straight for the frozen and stupefied Dagan. Quirinus whirled towards the approaching creature, raised the guns in his hands and let loose a volley of shots. The spider�s head exploded, splattering blood to the floor.

Ravana grimaced. The decapitated corpse slid onwards and she leapt away with a shriek. The arachnid was clad in what looked like armour, similar to that of the dead spider once embedded in the floor. Lilith ran to the arch and beckoned wildly to the robot sentry.

�Battlebot! Release the prisoners and defend our retreat!� she cried, then turned to the frightened onlookers in the archway. �Everyone, run for your lives!�

A tremor shook the chamber and with a loud groan all twelve of the rods promptly stopped dead. A split second later, a cascade of monster spiders fell through the gaps amidst a flurry of legs and surged towards a terrified Ravana and companions. The floodlights cast gigantic scuttling shadows upon the glistening walls and shone upon a galaxy of glinting eyes. The macabre chattering of mandibles was deafening.

�Run!� Kedesh cried to Ravana. �Get the hell out of here!�

Lilith was already dragging a dazed Dagan away. Ravana stuffed the green globe into a pocket, grabbed Artorius and dashed towards the screaming voices at the arch. Quirinus and Kedesh began to fire upon the advancing horde and the loud retort of plasma fire echoed around the chamber. The military android joined the fray and with rapid rifle fire decapitated three arachnids in a matter of seconds. The advance of the spiders barely slowed.

Ahead, Ininna and Yima were frantically urging the panic-stricken Xuthus, Urania and scarlet-haired Hestia away into the tunnels, closely followed by the more resolute Philyra and Fornax. Ravana found Govannon waiting for her beyond the arch, where she wasted no time bundling Artorius into his arms before scooting across the passageway to collect the plasma cannon. The cricket bat was nearby but her slate was nowhere to be seen.

�Get him to safety,� Ravana urged Govannon. She hefted the cannon to her shoulder, thumbed the power switch and smiled grimly as the implant-controlled targeting cross-hairs appeared in her virtual eye line. �Philyra can lead you back to our ship.�

�Spiders!� wailed Artorius. �They took Stripy and Nana!�

�Don�t dawdle,� urged Govannon. �We�ve already lost one archaeologist on this trip.�

Despite everything, Ravana grinned. �You call this archaeology?�

Govannon gave a wry smile, hoisted Artorius onto his back and with a hand on his hat slipped away into the flickering green light of the tunnel. Lilith and a terror-stricken Dagan hurried after them, leaving Quirinus, Kedesh and the android still shooting at the skittering spiders. Ravana ran back into the chamber and lined up the cannon to take a shot at a cluster of arachnids near the three twitching bundles of silk. The creatures were relentless, yet there was something about their advance that reminded her of holovid news footage of street battles between royalists and Que Qiao back on her native Yuanshi. Around thirty arachnids had come through the portal and barely a quarter had fallen to gunfire.

�Ravana!� yelled Quirinus. �Get back!�

�Knock them for six!� cried Kedesh.

Ravana fired. A streak of white light leapt across the chamber and suddenly the air was thick with smoke and chunks of black flesh. She looked for a new target and saw a large spider at one of the rods, prodding its mouth parts against the faint indentations that had last seen Stripy�s nimble fingers. Another tremor struck the chamber, then the rods jolted back into life and started to circle the central dark pool once more.

�They�re reopening the portal!� cried Ravana.

�There�s more on the way?� Her father�s face was a picture of dismay.

Ravana, Quirinus and Kedesh looked at one another, turned and raced for the archway. They had barely entered the labyrinth when the staccato rifle retorts from the android back in the chamber fell ominously silent. The echoes of their pounding footsteps were soon joined by the eerie chatter of mandibles and scuffle of feet that quickly grew louder. Ravana risked a glance over her shoulder and to her horror saw the first of the pursuing spiders barely ten metres behind. She paused, aimed the cannon and fired her last remaining plasma bolt at the arachnid�s bulbous head. Her grin upon seeing the resultant smear upon the wall soon faded when three more spiders appeared at the end of the tunnel.

�Ravana!� hissed Quirinus, who had also stopped. �Save the heroics until later!�

He grabbed her aching arm and pulled her forward. The passageway seemed never-ending, made more so by the sound of the scurrying spiders behind. After what seemed an age, they spied the light of the exit and finally scrambled into the trench beyond.

Zotz was waiting in the dome, calling and waving from the entrance of the flexible walkway. Kedesh limped to Ravana�s side, still holding the waste cartridge taken from the cryogenic capsule. She had also found time to grab her cricket bat on the way.

�Jizo made me leave it behind,� Kedesh said sourly. �She was no fan of cricket.�

�This way!� Zotz cried. �Quickly!�

Behind them, the jaws of a spider snapped at the ragged opening in the arch. Quirinus raised a gun, released a barrage of shots into the arachnid�s head and the creature fell to the ground. He shoved the pistols into his belt and reached for his wristpad communicator.

�Momus!� he yelled. �Start the engines!�

Ravana, Quirinus and Kedesh, out of breath after their frantic dash back through the labyrinth, hurried to where Zotz eagerly beckoned them on. The dome�s airtight door was open, beyond which the walkway tunnel curved up to where vacuum clamps held it to the underside of a spacecraft�s curved bow. At the other end, Ravana saw the welcoming sight of the open pod bay door of the Platypus, from which dangled a wire ladder. As Zotz sealed the dome door behind them, a pair of legs appeared at the pod bay hatch. Govannon clambered uneasily down the ladder and dropped into the tunnel ahead.

�What happened to the others?� gasped Quirinus.

�All present and accounted for,� Govannon reported. �The Que Qiao agents made off in their own transport, see? Everyone else is aboard. I�m sorry to say that includes Dagan and the other Dhusarian. It seemed cruel to leave them here.�

�This is Kedesh,� Ravana said, seeing his wary look. �She helped us escape.�

�What happened to the Dhusarians� transport?� asked Kedesh.

�Momus hooked it up to the road-laying machine and set it off on automatic pilot across the desert,� Zotz replied, grinning.

They became aware of a faint chattering on the other side of the airtight hatch, a sound rapidly followed by the muffled patter of arachnid feet. Ravana put an ear to the door and shivered. Quirinus flipped the timer switches to release the clamps securing the Platypus to the tunnel, then with Ravana quickly followed Govannon, Zotz and Kedesh up the ladder and through the pod bay to the flight deck of the ship. Ravana quickly made for her co-pilot�s seat and ran her fingers across the console, checking flight systems.

�Ship!� Quirinus called, shutting the floor hatch. �Seal the EV pod bay door.�

�I�m already on it,� retorted Momus. He caught Quirinus� stare and moved to the adjacent seat to leave the pilot�s chair clear. �Ready when you are, captain.�

�Pre-flight checks complete,� intoned the AI. �Life support and flight systems online and functioning normally. Faults remain in the forward��

�We haven�t got time for that!� snapped Quirinus, taking his chair.

A series of clunks sounded, followed by a thud and the flexible walkway fell away from the ship. Govannon slipped into the crawl tunnel to join his students, huddled together on a bench in the cargo bay, the couch in the carousel having already been commandeered by Fornax, Philyra, Lilith and Dagan. Seeing Zotz take the fourth seat on the flight deck, Kedesh was about to follow Govannon when a movement outside caught her eye.

�Look!� she cried, pointing. �They�re coming through the dome!�

Ravana gasped in horror. A spider was wriggling through a hole in the dome�s inflatable wall, its powerful jaws masticating upon shreds of ripped fabric. The poisonous air of Falsafah did not seem to be slowing it down. Momus glanced up and went pale.

�What the bloody crapping hell is that frigging eight-legged freak?�

�Ship!� yelled Ravana. �Start the engines, maximum reverse thrust!�

�Brakes released,� said Quirinus. �I�m extending the wings now.�

The Platypus shuddered into life with a roar of thrusters and backed away from the dome. More spiders were forcing their way through the dome�s sagging wall. Kedesh tore her eyes from the scene, turned to the crawl tunnel and cursed as a couple of the AI�s tendrils dropped from a conduit and slapped her in the face. She gave Quirinus a startled stare, wedged her cannon and cricket bat under another thick tendril, grabbed the cryogenic capsule cartridge and hurriedly slipped away to the cargo bay to find a seat.

�Main engines running using onboard oxygen,� the AI confirmed.

�Ravana, can you handle take-off?� asked Quirinus. �The boosters aren�t wired into the AI, so I need to run some manual calculations on when to fire them.�

�What about me?� retorted Momus. �The pilot you hired?�

�I know exactly when to fire you,� Quirinus muttered. Zotz grinned.

Ravana nodded anxiously. She switched to forward thrust, pulled the rudder across and the beak-like nose of the Platypus swung away from the archaeologists� domes onto the runway. Several tense moments passed before the ship reached the end of the airstrip and turned once more for its take-off run. Ravana�s implant link to the AI was live and she mentally scanned the various read-outs for alerts. The hull sensors made it feel as if the spacecraft�s wings were trembling in sympathy with her own nerves rather than on the breeze. Quirinus pressed a switch to activate the ship�s intercom.

�Ready for take off,� he announced. His amplified voice echoed back through the crawl tunnel. �Anyone not strapped into a seat is about to get very bruised.�

�Ship,� said Ravana. �Let�s get out of here.�

�Your wish is my command,� said the AI. �Commencing full thrust now.�

The main engines roared and the Platypus surged down the runway. They were close to take-off speed when a huge arachnid suddenly scurried across the airstrip ahead. Ravana gritted her teeth, hauled back on the aileron control and the spacecraft lifted just as a loud thud came from below. Her hands firm upon the controls, she used her implant to switch on the rear-view camera. The display rewarded her with an image of the mangled remains of a spider spread across the runway. More importantly, they were in the air.

�That was close,� she murmured and flexed her throbbing arm. �Too close.�

�Cool,� murmured Zotz, looking pale.

�Good work,� Quirinus agreed, glancing from where he tapped busily at a console. �We need to persuade Verdandi to give you a pilot�s licence. It doesn�t seem fair that the law makes you wait until you�re eighteen.�

Momus stared at her. �You haven�t got a frigging licence?�

Ravana grinned. �Out here, who cares?�

�How about the police ship behind us?� suggested Zotz.

The rear-view display showed a flying-wing spacecraft hot on their tail. Ravana accessed her implant and brought up the ship�s location beacon data.

�The Alf-Sana Booma,� she said. �It must be the Que Qiao agents� ship.�

�Forget them,� said Quirinus. �We need to fire the boosters at ten kilometres. It�s more marginal than I hoped, but I never expected to have this many people aboard.�

�What if they don�t bloody fire?� asked Momus.

Quirinus ignored him and instead looked questioningly at Ravana.

�Altitude is five kilometres and climbing,� she said, after a lengthy pause. �We�re on the maximum rate of ascent but still some way off escape velocity.�

The violent shuddering of the ship began to ease as they climbed ever higher through the thinning upper atmosphere. She watched her father�s hand go to the control panel for the trio of rockets fixed to the hull, fully aware that what they were about to attempt was risky in the extreme. The Mars-class Platypus was not designed to break free of a planet with the gravity of Falsafah. If anything went wrong, the only place they could go was down; most likely in a jumble of burning wreckage.

�Eight kilometres,� she said. �I�m bringing in the wings. Ship, how are we doing?�

�Atmospheric ascent is steady and holding,� responded the AI.

The Alf-Sana Booma shot into view above them at the head of four blazing spears of thrust. It was a more powerful ship and would have no problem making orbit. An unexpected pang of jealousy made Ravana feel quite defensive about the ageing Platypus, which had been a part of her life as long as she could remember. She gave the console a soothing pat.

�Ten kilometres on my mark,� she said. �Five, four, three, two��

Quirinus thumbed the switch. Ravana felt a surge of relief as all three boosters fired, instantly shoving her back in her seat to a rumble she felt through the vibrating hull rather than heard. Startled shrieks drifted from the carousel and cargo bay, which were promptly drowned by a sudden chorus of alarms from the console. The ship was being pushed past its design limits for atmospheric flight and the AI did not like it one bit.

Momus reached to the console and silenced the alarms. Through the windscreen, the curvature of the planet below was becoming more pronounced, wreathed in atmospheric haze below a pink Falsafah sky darkening to black. Ravana, her hands drenched in sweat upon the controls, concentrated on completing their course into orbit. Her headache had returned, this time on the grounds it felt like her eyeballs were rattling inside her skull.

After what seemed an age, the boosters cut out and the shaking of the ship eased. The stillness that descended upon the flight deck was sudden and sweet, broken only by the gentle murmur of the main engines. Ravana leaned back in her chair and sighed with relief.

�Orbital insertion complete,� the ship informed them. Ravana thought the AI sounded surprised it was not delivering a more doom-laden missive. �That was a most exhilarating experience. Main engines powering down. Interplanetary plasma drive on standby.�

Quirinus stretched wearily and batted away a stray tendril floating up from the console. The fading look of panic upon his face spoke volumes.

�Piece of cake,� he remarked. �Next stop, Barnard�s Star.�

�Cake?� Ravana smiled and thought of the greys. �I gave the last of it to Nana.�

Her face fell when she saw the angular blip on the scanner screen. The Alf-Sana Booma, ahead in a higher orbit, was dropping back down and coming their way.

The Alf-Sana Booma loomed large through the windscreen. It had not taken the Que Qiao officers long to bring their ship alongside the Platypus and issue their demands to come aboard. The flying wing approached from above, belly-side up, spraying jets of gas as it moved to dock its roof airlock with that of the aged freighter. Ravana and Quirinus both knew the Platypus could not outrun the police flyer, but figured they had nothing to hide. That did not stop Kedesh looking worried.

Several anxious minutes later, there was a clunk and the two ships docked. Quirinus asked Momus to watch over Lilith and Dagan in the carousel until they found out what the agents wanted, but left the ship�s intercom switched on so everyone could hear. Fornax and Philyra stayed with the Dhusarians, eager to question them for Fornax�s coveted scoop. Being in orbit meant there was no real gravity within either ship, but with Artorius and Govannon joining Quirinus, Ravana and Kedesh on the flight deck, plus Zotz, Xuthus, Hestia and Urania all scrabbling for space to watch from the crawl tunnel, being able to float did little to ease an uncomfortably crowded situation as they waited for their visitors to arrive.

Yima was first to drift through the ceiling hatch. He winced as his bandaged arm found the handrail before his fingers did, only to receive an unsympathetic sneer from his colleague behind. Ininna flinched at the sight of a tendril slowly uncurling towards her neck. Ravana got the impression the ship�s AI did not relish their presence. Both agents were quick to reveal they were armed with replacement guns.

�Welcome aboard,� said Quirinus, eyeing Ininna carefully. �To what do we owe this pleasure? Do you want a witness report on how you bravely ran away from the spiders?�

�Silence!� snapped Ininna.

Ravana, sat in her co-pilot�s seat, watched as Ininna manoeuvred across to where Kedesh calmly drifted. Artorius sat sullenly in Zotz�s vacated seat, nursing his bandaged hand. The boy was clearly upset; Hestia had done what she could for his broken finger with the ship�s first-aid kit, but Ravana�s attempts to speak to him had only deepened his sulk.

�Marion Kedesh,� spat Ininna. �Why did you not leave Falsafah when we asked? Now I have the tedious job of arresting everyone aboard this heap and taking you all to Aram for interrogation. Have you any idea how much form-filling that involves?�

�Nobody is going anywhere,� Quirinus said roughly. He floated poised behind his pilot�s seat with a hand upon the switch panel for the mining thrusters. �Did you see the rockets strapped to the hull? It wouldn�t take much to fire the release mechanism and shoot the top booster straight through your nice shiny spaceship.�

�You�re bluffing,� growled Yima. His glance went to the switch beneath Quirinus� fingertips and a flicker of doubt crossed his face. �We don�t want trouble.�

�What do you want?� asked Govannon, his hand on his hat.

�The two Dhusarians we suspect you of shielding are wanted on terrorist charges,� Ininna replied, facing her audience one by one. �Kedesh here is a veritable thorn in our side. We have special orders regarding the boy; and also for you, Ravana O�Brien.�

�Me?� exclaimed Ravana, startled. �What did I do?�

�You are not taking my daughter anywhere!� growled Quirinus.

�Doctor Jones!� cried Xuthus. �Say something! Don�t let them take Ravana!�

�You�re not taking Artorius, either!� retorted Ravana.

�We have been monitoring communications on Falsafah,� Yima told her. �Including the internal camera feeds at Falsafah Alpha. Your scarred little face was matched against one of a party of royalist rebels causing mischief on Yuanshi several months ago. Do you make a habit of sabotaging research stations?�

Kedesh had not yet spoken. Ravana watched as she withdrew a familiar vial of blood from her pocket. Her other hand held the waste cartridge from the cryogenic capsule.

�This is what your superiors want,� Kedesh said, offering both to Ininna. �Artorius and I will play along and come with you, if you let the others go free.�

�No!� Ravana cried. �He�s staying with us.�

�You made Stripy and Nana go away,� muttered Artorius. �I don�t like you anymore.�

Kedesh gave Ravana an apologetic grin. �Rude as ever, I see. Once the Americans hear Que Qiao has him, he�ll be back home safe and sound on Avalon in no time.�

Ravana looked confused. �I don�t understand.�

�You and me both,� grumbled Quirinus.

Ininna motioned to Yima to relieve Kedesh of the vial and cartridge.

�Evidence,� Kedesh told them. �I�m sure you have basic forensic equipment aboard your ship. Get some DNA samples and see what you find.�

�Why the sudden cooperation?� Ininna asked, suspicious. �Is this some kind of trick?�

�No trick. I want you to know the state of play if we�re coming with you to Aram. What happened down there is far bigger than you can possibly imagine.�

�Bigger than an alien temple with huge killer spiders coming out of ground?� scoffed Yima. �Have you done a visual scan of Arallu since you left? There�s hundreds of the damn things, pouring across the desert and dropping like flies. I�ve never seen anything like it.�

�They�re dying?� asked Quirinus.

Ininna shrugged. �It seems they do need oxygen, after all.�

Artorius looked at Ininna. �I want to go home,� he said.

�You could come with us,� Ravana suggested gently. �We�re your friends.�

�My friend was Stripy,� he retorted. �You sent him and Nana down a hole.�

�We will look after you,� Ininna said to Artorius. �They�re worried about you back on Avalon. We just need to ask you some questions about the people you were with on Falsafah and then we�ll take you home. Would you like that?�

Artorius nodded. He wriggled free of his seat belt and pulled himself across the cabin to where the agents waited. Yima pocketed the vial, took Artorius� hand and led him through the roof hatch into the Alf-Sana Booma. Ravana watched Artorius go with tears in her eyes. She did not want him to be angry about the departure of the greys.

�A wise decision,� remarked Ininna. �So he�s important to the Americans?�

�We spoke to Missi, the AI at Falsafah Alpha,� Kedesh told her. �It was obsessed with experiments it had continued to run despite there being no human crew at the station. I guess you know of the eight-legged horrors loose in the nearby valley. When we were in the alien chamber, I saw the cut marks on the body of the dead weaver where someone had removed tissue samples and wondered if there was a connection.�

�Weaver?� asked Ravana, puzzled.

�We did find evidence of a previous dig,� Govannon said. �There was an old oxygen cylinder, see? In an area of recent infill around the entrance.�

�Someone also left a bomb for Professor Cadmus,� piped up Hestia. Ininna responded with a glare, having seemingly forgotten her audience in the crawl tunnel.

�There was an American expedition to Arallu around ten years ago,� said Kedesh and smiled at Govannon�s surprise. �Very hush-hush, if you know what I mean. My guess is that the samples taken from the chamber were Missi�s experiment, in that the giant spiders in the valley are clones grown from the dissected tissue. But Missi also spoke of Artorius when it referred to other experiments. I think something else was taken from the chamber.�

�The cryogenic capsule,� murmured Quirinus. �It was empty.�

�No!� Ravana shivered. �It can�t be true!�

�You tell me,� said Kedesh. �How old is Artorius?�

�He said he was eight,� Ravana said quietly.

Ininna frowned. �You�re saying the boy is a clone? From the body in the capsule?�

�Oh my word,� murmured Govannon.

�Cloning people is illegal,� said Zotz, from the crawl tunnel. Xuthus, Hestia and a dubious Urania were whispering excitedly about their theory that the capsule was from the lost USS Constellation. �Except cyberclones. They�re more like robots.�

�What is it with Dhusarians and clones?� murmured Ravana. The revelation left her feeling uneasy. �How did an American capsule get into the chamber? Are you saying the spiders or the greys somehow brought it to Falsafah through the portal?�

Kedesh shrugged. �It�s possible. Somehow, the Dhusarians got wind of it and decided it fitted with their prophecy. That�s why Jizo called him the star man and said that stuff about �frozen traveller created anew�. The Americans have a huge exobiology research centre on Avalon, which could be why Artorius was born and raised in the Alpha Centauri system.�

�It�s incredible,� murmured Quirinus.

�So this has nothing to do with Que Qiao?� asked Ravana.

�They financed your dig,� Kedesh pointed out. �Though I�m puzzled as to why the corporation was happy to let the Dhusarians take first innings. Que Qiao is no doubt watching events with interest. Technology like that portal is way ahead of anything we can do.�

�The Americans must have put the capsule there themselves,� Govannon protested. �The dating samples show the chamber last saw sunlight twelve thousand years ago. If it was the same light we saw today, your so-called portal last opened back when humans were stuck on Mesolithic Earth. The capsule could not have arrived that way, see?�

�Time travel,� Hestia said solemnly. �I was right all along.�

Urania snorted. �Don�t be stupid!�

�Watchers don�t play cricket when it comes to regular space-time,� Kedesh told her.

�Paw-prints of the gods?� Ravana suggested accusingly. �Nana and Stripy said the chamber was built by the greys. The hieroglyphs at the entrance were from the Isa-Sastra. Is all this what that damn cat woman referred to as some kind of game?�

�Perhaps the script was added later,� mused Govannon. �As a warning, see?�

Ravana frowned. Yima reappeared at the ceiling hatch looking solemn, holding the vial of blood Kedesh gave him earlier. As the agent climbed through into the Platypus, the boy�s head appeared at the hatch behind him.

�This ship is much better!� Artorius said with glee. �It�s got guns and everything.�

�Take no notice of the silly little boy,� Ravana murmured, patting the console.

Ininna regarded Yima impatiently. �Well?�

�This is from the boy?� asked Yima. He showed Kedesh the vial, who nodded. �What I got from the cartridge is badly degraded, but the DNA matches that of the blood.�

�See?� said Kedesh, smiling smugly at Ininna.

�There�s more.� Yima looked puzzled. �I ran a carbon-fourteen count on the cartridge sample. Whoever it came from took their last breath over ten thousand years ago.�

�What?� cried Ininna. �That must be wrong.�

�It�s pretty close to when you said the portal last opened,� Kedesh told Govannon.

�Nonsense!� retorted the archaeologist, but the way he scratched his stubbly chin suggested doubt. �Carbon dating can�t be used away from Earth. No calibration data, see?�

�Time travel!� protested Hestia. �It must be.�

�There is more going on here than I can take right now,� Ininna told Kedesh irritably. �I would dearly love to arrest you all, but there�s not enough room on our ship and I don�t trust you to follow in this heap of junk. You, the boy and the Dhusarians come with us. Your friends have one hour to leave this system and if I ever see any of them again, or if anyone ever speaks of what we saw, I will personally hunt them down, rip out their tongue and poke a sharp pointy stick in their eyes. Do I make myself understood?�

�Perfectly,� Kedesh murmured.

�Both our eyes?� asked Quirinus and waggled his eye patch.

�Don�t get smart with me,� Ininna growled. �I also want everyone�s wristpads. I saw some of the students recording what was going on down there.�

Xuthus gasped in protest. �Our wristpads?�

�You heard me,� snapped Ininna. She turned to Ravana. �As far as I�m concerned, you�re wanted on Yuanshi, not here. Not my jurisdiction,� she added, with a sideways glance at Kedesh. �But one of your little grey friends gave you something. Give it to me.�

Ravana had forgotten about the globe. Ininna�s fierce glare was enough to persuade her to comply and she pulled it from the pocket of the borrowed jumpsuit. The soft green sphere had lost its sparkle and looked quite mundane under the cabin lights.

�Funny little Nana,� Ravana said and sighed. The grey�s gift was an odd souvenir of their Falsafah adventure. �She�s been through such a lot. I hope they get home okay.�

�You said �she�,� Kedesh noted, smiling. �That�s a lot better than saying �it�.�

�What�s that?� asked Artorius, watching from above. �Alien poo?�

�Aliens do not exist,� Ininna said coolly. �And that�s official.�

She snatched the globe from Ravana�s hand and dropped it into her own pocket. Pistol in hand, Yima went round the flight deck and took the wristpads from those who had one, then ordered Urania to collect the rest from everyone in the crawl tunnel and beyond. He counted what she returned and gave a satisfied nod.

�The reporter said you�re lucky that place was underground,� said Urania. �Otherwise everything her cambot saw would have gone out live.�

�There will be no news from Falsafah,� snapped Ininna. �Bring the Dhusarians.�

Ravana glanced to the crawl tunnel. Zotz, Xuthus, Hestia and Urania, looking glum following the confiscation of their wristpads, realised they were blocking the entrance and one by one retreated into the carousel. Momus, Lilith and Dagan had been listening on the ship�s intercom and the Dhusarians looked sullen and apprehensive upon entering the flight deck, where Ravana greeted them with a hostile stare. At the hatch above, Artorius took one look at Lilith and disappeared inside the agents� ship without even so much as a goodbye. Ravana had to admit he seemed okay to be going with Ininna and Yima.

�Poor Artorius.� Ravana sighed. �Does he know he�s a clone?�

�It matters not what he is, only that he is here,� said Lilith, sounding far more smug than Ravana expected given the situation. �What happened at Arallu was unexpected, but he has done Taranis� bidding and this must be how it is supposed to be.�

�Giant spiders?� Dagan retorted nervously. �I didn�t sign up to church for that.�

�It was the greys who opened the portal,� Ravana pointed out. �Not Artorius.�

With a weary sigh of resignation, Ininna gestured to Yima to lead Lilith and Dagan into the Alf-Sana Booma. Dagan reached for a grab handle and pulled himself up after the agent. Lilith moved to follow but was stopped short by a touch of Ravana�s hand.

�Taranis,� Ravana said, sounding hesitant. �You said he was dead. Is it true?�

Lilith smiled. �I did say that, didn�t I?�

�Answer her question!� growled Kedesh.

�I lied,� Lilith said coldly. �I�m pleased to say that the father of our Church is alive and well. Rest assured he has not forgotten you, my so-called demon king.�

She pushed Ravana�s hand away, reached for the handrail and hauled herself through the hatch, away from the girl�s dumbstruck gaze. Ininna motioned to Kedesh to follow, then rolled her eyes in exasperation when she saw the woman was more interested in retrieving her cricket bat from where it had been wedged.

�This is the longest arrest ever,� the agent complained.

Kedesh shoved the bat under an arm, gave Ravana a smile and held out her hand.

�It�s been a pleasure,� she remarked. �A veritable test match of sticky wickets, but final scores were pretty much as expected. The Grand Priory can use people like you.�

Ravana hesitantly shook Kedesh�s hand. �Will you and Artorius be okay?�

�We�ll be fine,� she reassured her. �I won�t bore you with stuff about timelines and paradoxical quantum shifts. Let me know if you�re ever up for some more fun.�

�Get in the ship!� snapped Ininna.

Kedesh grinned and reached for the hatch. Ininna gave one last glare and followed her into the Alf-Sana Booma. The hatch swung closed behind them, then with a muffled thud and puff of jets the agents� ship broke free of the Platypus. By the time Zotz, Xuthus, Hestia and Urania joined Ravana, Quirinus and Govannon on the flight deck, the Que Qiao ship was firing its main engines to break orbit. Ravana watched it go with a sadness in her heart, for despite Kedesh�s erratic loyalty and Artorius moody selfishness, they had been through a lot together. Zotz came to her side, behind whom she saw Momus, Fornax and Philyra slipping from the crawl tunnel into the crowded cabin. Kedesh�s mention of timelines puzzled her.

�Hey,� Ravana said and ruffled Zotz�s hair. �We didn�t kill Taranis, after all.�

�I heard,� he said. �What happened to your cat?�

She thought about her electric pet clasped tight in Stripy�s grasp. �Jones is in safe hands,� she reassured him. �But I don�t think we�ll see it again.�

�Never mind that,� Philyra complained. �They took my wristpad! I had a really cool picture of me with Artorius, the real-life boy king from Gods of Avalon!�

Quirinus regained his seat and began to plot a course away from Falsafah so they could make the jump to Barnard�s Star. Ravana settled back into her own seat, directed the long-range visual scanner to the archaeology site at Arallu and silently watched the dark scuttling shapes pouring from the ruptured domes. The spiders at the edge of the seething black tide were still, asphyxiated by the unforgiving atmosphere. Ravana shuddered at the thought of what may have happened had the portal been on a planet like Earth.

�That mad Chinese woman called while you were at the dig,� Momus said suddenly, interrupting her thoughts. �There�s frigging lizard men all across the five systems.�

�Ostara?� Ravana asked Momus, who nodded. �So all twelve survived?�

�Endymion also said the copy he had of Taranis� book was hacked,� added Zotz.

�Jizo had his notes on her slate,� mused Ravana. She wondered where her own slate had gone. �I can�t help thinking they wanted it for more than just this.�

Zotz looked at the console display. �Where are all those spiders coming from?�

He looked more than a little perturbed. The same question troubled Ravana, for the thought that the portal led to a land of giant spiders was not a nice one.

�They rose from the plug hole to hell,� she murmured, watching the screen. �Athene warned that we had no idea of what�s on the other side. Well, we do now.�

�Athene?� asked Hestia, puzzled.

�Our friend, the mysterious watcher,� Ravana said and gave a hollow laugh. �The mad ghost who rode the greys� chariot into the void.�

�The Dhusarians wanted a place of pilgrimage,� remarked Fornax, who too had her eyes on the console. �The new runway was just the start. That young man Dagan was full of ideas of how Arallu would become their Mecca, their Jerusalem.�

�Looks more like crappy Gomorrah,� muttered Momus.

�Professor Cadmus, a Dhusarian!� remarked Govannon. �What about his Que Qiao Alien Encounters Board? First contact with genuine aliens and they start a cover up!�

�It isn�t the first,� mused Ravana. �Que Qiao know about greys but deny they exist.�

�Hey, Aberystwyth,� said Urania. �Do we include giant spiders in our site reports?�

�You heard the agents. We keep quiet, see. No essay writing when we get back.�

Xuthus moved forward to where Zotz had pulled himself into the port-side chair, both transfixed by the images on the holovid screen. Ravana smiled, recalling how Xuthus had intervened when Ininna threatened to arrest her. With a sudden rush of emotion she reached out, hugged Xuthus tight and gave him a kiss.

�Thanks for sticking up for me,� she said. �You�re not so bad, after all.�

Xuthus gave a strangled yelp and struggled free of her grasp. Ravana caught Urania�s giggle and frowned. Hestia gave her a perturbed look.

�Get off me, scar face!� cried Xuthus. �What did you do that for?�

Ravana turned away, insulted and embarrassed. The console signalled an incoming message and she spun away to activate the transceiver holovid, eager to take advantage of the distraction. To her surprise, the call sign was that of the Dandridge Cole. The signal was a little erratic, but she instantly recognised the beaming face of Professor Wak. He was using a holovid booth near a window in Dockside and a warm yellow glow poured through the frosty glass. Sunlight once again shone brightly within the hollow moon.

�Hello Professor,� she said gaily. �I see you�ve finally fixed the sun.�

�Ravana! You�re safe!� cried Wak. �Never doubted it for a moment, of course.�

�All present and correct,� confirmed Quirinus. �We�re on our way home.�

�No more adventures,� added Ravana. She saw her father�s sideways look and grinned. �We have a lot of work to do when we get back,� she said solemnly. �Don�t we, professor? Crops to plant, animals to defrost, that sort of thing.�

Quirinus frowned. �You went on a simple field trip and ended up rubbing shoulders with a secret agent, aliens and cyberclone monks,� he pointed out. �Farmers spray crops for greenfly, not blast giant spiders with a cannon. Are you sure you won�t be bored?�

�After the last few weeks, boredom suits me fine,� Ravana replied defiantly.

Philyra laughed. �Sure it does.�

Ravana�s gaze fell to the plasma cannon, wedged beneath a rogue tendril at the rear of the cabin. She had a horrible feeling her father and Philyra were right.