"Paranoid clones and a Man with a shift system in his skull," Horza shook his head. "OK. Go on."

"Three-" Yalson said, "we're not mercenaries. We're a Free Company. Actually we're just pirates, but if that's what Kraiklyn wants to call us, that's what we are. In theory anybody can join so long as they eat the food and breathe the air, but in practice he's a bit more selective than that, and he'd like to be even more so, I'll bet. Anyway. We've carried out a few contracts, mostly protection, a couple of escort duties for third-level places who've found themselves caught up in the war, but most of the time we just attack and steal wherever we think the confusion caused by the war makes us likely to get away with it. That's what we're on our way to do at the moment. Kraiklyn heard about this place called the Temple of Light on a just-about-level three planet in this neck of the woods and he reckons it'll be easy in, easy out — to use one of his favourite expressions. According to him it's full of priests and treasure; we shoot the former and grab the latter. Then we head for the Vavatch Orbital before the Culture blows it away and we buy something to replace our bow laser. I guess the prices should be pretty good. If we hang on long enough people will probably be trying to give the stuff away."

"What's happening to Vavatch?" Horza asked. This wasn't something he'd heard about. He knew the big Orbital was in this part of the war zone, but he'd thought its condominium-style ownership would keep it out of the firing line.

"Didn't your Idiran friends tell you?" Yalson said. She dropped the hand with the outstretched fingers. "Well," she said, when Horza just shrugged, "as you probably do know, the Idirans are advancing through the whole inward flank of the Gulf — the Glittercliff. The Culture seems to be putting up a bit of a fight for a change, or at least preparing to. It looked like they were going to come to one of their usual understandings and leave Vavatch as neutral territory. This religious thing the Idirans have about planets means they weren't really interested in the O as long as the Culture didn't try to use it as a base, and they promised they wouldn't. Shit, with these big fucking GSVs they're building these days they don't need bases on Os or Rings, or planets or anything else… Well, all the various types and weirdos on Vavatch thought they were going to be just fine, thank you, and probably do very well out of the galactic fire-fight going on around them… Then the Idirans announced they were going to take Vavatch over after all, though only nominally; no military presence. The Culture said they weren't having this, both sides refused to abandon their precious principles, and the Culture said, "OK, if you won't back down we're going to blow the place away before you get there." And that's what's happening. Before the Idiran battle fleets arrive the Culture's going to evacuate the whole damn O and then blast it."

"They're going to evacuate an Orbital?" Horza said. This really was the first he'd heard of any of this. The Idirans had mentioned nothing about Vavatch Orbital in the briefings they had given him, and even once he was actually impersonating the outworld minister Egratin, most of what had been coming in from outside had been rumour. Any idiot could see that the whole volume around the Sullen Gulf was going to become a battle space hundreds of light-years across, hundreds tall and decades deep at least, but exactly what was going on he hadn't been able to find out. The war was shifting up a gear indeed. Still, only a lunatic would think of trying to move everybody off an Orbital.

Yalson nodded, all the same. "So they say. Don't ask me where they're going to pull the ships from for that one, but that's what they say they're going to do."

"They're crazy." Horza shook his head.

"Yeah, well, I think they proved that when they went to war in the first place."

"OK. Sorry. Go on," Horza said, waving one hand.

"I've forgotten what else I was going to say," Yalson grinned, looking at the three fingers she had extended as though they would give her a clue. She looked at Horza. "I think that about covers it. I'd advise you to keep your head down and your mouth shut until we get to Marjoin, where this temple is, and still to keep your head down once we get there, come to think of it." She laughed, and Horza found himself laughing with her. She nodded and picked up her spoon again. "Assuming you come through OK, people will accept you more once you've been in a fire-fight with them. For now you're the baby on the ship, no matter what you've done in the past, and regardless of Zallin."

Horza looked at her doubtfully, thinking about attacking anywhere — even an undefended temple — in a second-hand suit with an unreliable projectile rifle. "Well," he sighed, spooning more food from his plate, "so long as you don't all start betting on which way I'll fall again…"

Yalson looked at him for a second, then grinned, and went back to her food.

Kraiklyn proved more inquisitive about Horza's past, despite what Yalson had said. The Man invited Horza to his cabin. It was neat and tidy, with everything stowed and clamped or webbed down, and it smelt fresh. Real books lined one wall, and there was an absorber carpet on the floor. A model of the CAT hung from the ceiling, and a big laser rifle was cradled on another wall; it looked powerful, with a large battery pack and a beam-splitter device on the end of the barrel. It gleamed in the soft light of the cabin as though it had been polished.

"Sit down," Kraiklyn said, motioning Horza to a small seat while he adjusted the single bed to a couch and flopped into it. He reached behind to a shelf and picked up two snifflasks. He offered one to Horza, who took it and broke the seal. The captain of the Clear Air Turbulence drew deeply on the fumes from his own bowl, then sipped a little of the misty liquid. Horza did the same. He recognised the substance but couldn't remember the name. It was one of those you could snort and get high on or drink and just be sociable; the active ingredients lasted only a few minutes at body temperature, and anyway were broken up rather than absorbed by most humanoid digestive tracts.

"Thanks," Horza said.

"Well, you're looking a lot better than when you came on board," Kraiklyn said, looking at Horza's chest and arms. The Changer had almost resumed his normal shape after four days of rest and heavy eating. His trunk and limbs had filled out to something approaching their fairly muscular usual and his belly had grown no larger. His skin had tautened and taken on a golden-brown sheen, while his face looked both firmer and yet more supple, too. His hair was growing in dark from the roots; he had cut off the yellow-white lankness of the Gerontocrat's sparse locks. His venom-teeth were also regrowing, but they would need another twenty days or so before they could be used. "I feel better, too."

"Hmm. Pity about Zallin, but I'm sure you could see my point."

"Sure. I'm just glad you gave me the chance. Some people would have zapped me and thrown me out."

"It crossed my mind," Kraiklyn said, toying with the flask he held, "but I sensed you weren't totally full of crap. Can't say I believed you about this ageing drug and the Idirans, at the time, but I thought you might make a fight of it. Mind you, you were lucky, right?" He smiled at Horza, who smiled back. Kraiklyn looked up at the books on the far wall. "Anyway, Zallin was sort of dead weight; know what I mean?" He looked back at Horza. "Kid hardly knew which end of his rifle to point. I was thinking of dropping him from the team next place we hit." He took another gulp of the fumes.

"Like I say — thanks." Horza was deciding that his first impression of Kraiklyn — that the Man was a shit — was more or less correct. If he had been going to drop Zallin anyway there was no reason for the fight to be to the death. Horza could have bunked down in the shuttle or the hangar, or Zallin could have. One more person wouldn't have made the CAT any more roomy for the time it took to get to Marjoin, but it wouldn't have been for all that long, and they weren't going to start using up all the air or anything. Kraiklyn had just wanted a show. "I'm grateful to you," Horza said, and raised the flask towards the captain briefly before inhaling again. He studied Kraiklyn's face carefully.