"I can see what you're thinking, and I don't think I like it," murmured Thorn. Before the analgesic patch on his biceps had fully done its work, he wrenched out the aerofan fragment imbedded in his arm. That there was no instant gush of blood to denote a severed artery almost surprised him, as that was the way his luck had been going. He then caught the roll of insulating tape Gant tossed him, and wound some of it tightly around the wound. Meanwhile, Gant was studying his leg.

"Here, take this," the Golem said at last, holding out the plascrete sprayer.

"So you're qualified in field surgery?" said Thorn, groping for humour.

"Who took that bullet out of your arse on Thraxum?" Gant muttered.

"I was trying to forget about that." Thorn looked away while Gant taped lengths of the alloy tube to his boot, and bound them close to the protruding fracture.

"I'll pull it straight," said Gant. "When I give the word, I want you to start spraying the plascrete."

Thorn nodded, then yelled out in agony. He watched in morbid horror the splintered bone drawn back into his flesh as Gant pulled the leg straight. When the limb seemed about the correct length, Gant gave the order and Thorn began to spray. He yelled again as the reacting epoxies burned the open wound. As soon as his lower leg was encased in its makeshift cast, Gant hauled him to his feet.

"At least you can walk a little now," said Gant.

"I'll not be winning any races," growled Thorn.

Gant turned to look towards the entrance. "You know, if that pulse-gun stops again, that door won't hold them out much longer," he said.

Thorn shrugged. "Do we need longer to formulate an escape plan?" he asked.

"You know, you get even more sarcastic as you get older," said Gant.

"At least I have that option," said Thorn. Then noticing Gant's odd glance, he added, "To get older, I mean."

Gant stared at him. "It bothers you that much, about me?" he asked.

"I grieved for your death, and now I feel cheated," said Thorn.

"You may not have been cheated, as whether or not I am really Gant is a moot point. I never intended for you not to know, but I had the memplant put in thirty years before I even met you — when I was a kid back on Earth. It just never seemed important enough to mention."

"That you were immortal?" asked Thorn.

"Is it immortality? I don't know. I do know that many other Sparkind have memplants, so why don't you?"

Thorn shrugged. "Just never got round to it."

The firing of the pulse-cannon ceased again, followed by the roar of calloraptors storming up the tunnel outside.

Gant headed towards the door. "Do me a favour," he said. "If we ever get out of this, get yourself memplanted, will you?"

"Can you still get drunk?" Thorn asked as Gant stepped over to the door, and braced himself against the grinding machine.

"I have that option," Gant replied, his expression puzzled.

"Then I will get it done, and we'll celebrate in Elysium."

Gant did not get much chance to reply to that as the first calloraptor hit the door and managed to wriggle its head around the warped metal.

Eldene woke with a start. She had fallen asleep despite the cold, her back propped against the rail and her head resting on the Outlinker's shoulder. He seemed to put out plenty of warmth, though, and when she realized he had his arm around her she felt a surge of some feeling she did not really want to identify. She realized that Stanton — a bulky silhouette against the stars and one tumbling moon of the predawn sky — must have spoken and that was what had woken her.

"About ten minutes," Stanton continued, and from that Eldene surmised they would arrive on solid ground soon. Apis did not remove his protective arm from her. Glancing at him in the half-light, she saw no sign of embarrassment at such new-found intimacy.

"Ten minutes until we land?" Unsteadily she stood, the rail seat flipping back up behind her, and looked out over the lightening mountains. Behind them, Calypse was a brown dome blistering up from the horizon, which was barely distinct from the sky above it. Below was a river valley, deep in shadow, but she could still distinguish the mercurial glitter of water.

"Yeah, ten minutes," Stanton confirmed. "Do either of you know how to fly one of these things?" He tapped a hand against the steering column.

Standing up also, Apis said, "The controls seem simple enough. I don't see any difficulty."

Stanton said, "Well, if, as you said, you brought in a lander without ion engines, I should think you able enough."

"Why do you ask?" Eldene inquired.

"Because, when I head for my ship, you can take this aerofan to the nearest Underworld entrance." He looked at Eldene. "You remember where it is?"

Eldene nodded, feeling an immediate sinking sensation. With one incident so rapidly following another, she'd had no time for thoughts of the future. It had often in fact seemed laughable that she might even have a future. Now she just didn't know… she just didn't know.

Ahead, a wide lake caught between sheer rock faces became visible, but from this angle it took Eldene a moment to recognize it as the one they called the Cistern — the landing spot of Lyric II. The ship, of course, was invisible somewhere on the further shore. In a moment Stanton brought the aerofan down low, its down-blast disturbing insectile shapes from their roosts on half-submerged rocks in the lake, and causing the flute grasses behind the shore to roll like sea waves. Stanton eventually landed them on a narrow beach Eldene recognized. As the fan motors wound down, Stanton opened the rail gate and stepped down onto sand and shells. Eldene noticed the insect things crawling back up onto their rocky perches.

"I'll be back in a moment," he said, "then you can head off." He turned away and started walking up the beach.

"As he walks towards it, he'll disappear," she informed Apis.

"Yes, chameleonware, I know about that," the Outlinker replied.

Eldene felt a flash of anger at his conceit, but still she was glad to be with him. "They used it on Miranda then, did they?" she asked.

"No, no, they didn't," Apis replied.

"How do you know about it then?"

"I was taught… educated…"

"Gosh, you are so clever," said Eldene, and had the satisfaction of seeing him flush with embarrassment.

Something was wrong. As Stanton kept on walking, he remained perfectly visible in the breaking dawn. By now he should have disappeared into the magical field projected from the ship. There was a clattering of falling stone, and Stanton turned to a rockfall on his left, his heavy pulse-gun drawn and aimed in one smooth motion. In a motion that was even smoother, a figure rose from behind a nearby boulder, took a few fast and silent steps, and pressed the snout of a smaller gun into the back of Stanton's head. Eldene had no time to yell a warning, but now grabbed up the rail-gun abandoned on the floor of the aerofan, and stepped out with it aimed at the newcomer.

"Girl, you better put that down before you hurt someone," said a voice behind her.

Eldene swung round to see Fethan, and felt a surge of joy — then dismay when she saw what had happened to him. Confused, she lowered the weapon and looked back at the drama ahead. It was the agent, Ian Cormac, who had captured their rescuer, and now Eldene was not sure where her loyalties lay. She watched silently as Stanton was disarmed and herded back towards the aerofan. Standing beside her, Apis gently took the rail-gun from her.

"Well, John, seems we've been here before," said Cormac. He glanced to Fethan. "I wondered who that was creeping through the grasses."

"Lellan sent me after you," Fethan replied. "She thought you might need some help."