The thought had never occurred to him.

"Wouldn't you?" she repeated.

"Well, of course I would," he said. She didn't move. He could hear her breathing.

"You would, wouldn't you?" Yalson said. He brought his arms up and took her by the shoulders. She was warm, the down on her skin was soft, and the muscles and flesh underneath, over her slim frame, were strong and firm.

"Yes, I would," he said, and only then realised that he meant it.

It was during this time, between Marjoin and Vavatch, that the Changer found out what he wanted to know about the controls and fidelities of the Clear Air Turbulence.

Kraiklyn wore an identity ring on the small finger of his right hand, and some of the locks in the CAT would work only in the presence of that ring's electronic signature. The control of the ship depended on an audio-visual identity link; Kraiklyn's face was recognised by the craft's computer, as was his voice when he said, "This is Kraiklyn." It was that simple. The ship had once had a retina recognition lock as well, but it had malfunctioned long before and been removed. Horza was pleased; copying somebody's retina pattern was a delicate and tricky operation, requiring, amongst a lot of other things, the careful growth of lasing cells around the iris. It almost made more sense to go for a total genetic transcription, where the subject's own DNA became the model for a virus which left only the Changer's brain and, optionally, gonads — unaltered. That wouldn't be necessary to impersonate Captain Kraiklyn, however.

Horza found out about the ship's fidelities when he asked the Man for a lesson on how to fly the vessel. Kraiklyn had been reluctant at first, but Horza had not pressed him, and had answered a few of Kraiklyn's apparently casual questions about computers, which followed this request, with feigned ignorance. Seemingly convinced that teaching Horza how to fly the CAT would not carry the risk of him taking over the ship, Kraiklyn relented and allowed Horza to practise piloting the craft on manual, using the rather crude controls in simulator mode under Mipp's instruction while the craft went on its way through space towards Vavatch on autopilot.

"This is Kraiklyn," the ship PA announced to the mess a few hours after they ran through the Culture transmission warning of the Orbital's destruction. They were sitting around after a meal, drinking or inhaling, relaxing or in Dorolow's case, making the Circle of Flame sign on her forehead and saying the Prayer of Thanks. The big Orbital was still on the mess screen and had grown much larger, almost filling it with its inner surface daylight side but everybody had grown a little blasé about it and now gave it only the occasional glance. All the remaining Company were there save for Lenipobra and Kraiklyn himself. They looked at each other or the PA speaker when Kraiklyn spoke. "I've got a job for us, something I just had confirmed. Wubslin, you get the shuttle ready. I'll meet the rest of you in the hangar in three ship hours, suited up, team. And don't worry; this time there'll be no hostiles. This time it really is you-know-what in and out." The speaker crackled, then went silent. Horza and Yalson exchanged looks.

"So." Jandraligeli said, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his neck. The scar marks on his face deepened slightly as he put on an expression of thoughtfulness. "Our esteemed leader has again found us something to employ our slight talents?"

"Better not be in another fuckin" temple." Lamm growled, scratching the small horn grafts where they joined his head.

"How are you going to find a temple on Vavatch?" Neisin said. He was slightly drunk, talking more than he normally did when with the others. Lamm turned his face towards the smaller man a few seats away and on the other side of the table.

"You'd better just sober up, friend," he said.

"Seaships," Neisin told him, taking the nippled cylinder from the table in front of him. "Nothing but big goddamned seaships on that place. No temples." He closed his eyes, put his head back and drank.

"There might'. Jandraligeli said, "be temples on the ships."

"There might be a fucking drunk on this spaceship." Lamm said, watching Neisin. Neisin looked at him. "You'd better sober up fast, Neisin," Lamm continued, pointing with one finger at the smaller man.

"Think I'll head for the hangar," Wubslin said, standing and walking out of the mess.

"I'm going to see if Kraiklyn wants a hand," Mipp said, leaving in the opposite direction, through another door.

"Think we could see any of those Megaships yet?" Aviger was looking back at the screen. Dorolow looked up at it, too.

"Don't be fucking stupid," Lamm told him. "They aren't that big."

"They're big," Neisin said, nodding to himself and the small cylinder. Lamm looked at him, then at the others, and shook his head. "Yeah," Neisin said, "they're pretty big."

"They're actually no more than a few kilometres long," sighed Jandraligeli, sitting back in his chair and looking thoughtful, emphasising the scar marks still further. "So you won't see them from this far out. But they certainly are large."

"And they just go round and round the whole Orbital?" Yalson said. She already knew, but she would rather have the Mondlidician talking than Lamm and Neisin arguing. Horza smiled to himself. Jandraligeli nodded.

"For ever and ever. It takes them about forty years to go right round in a circle."

"Don't they ever stop?" Yalson asked. Jandraligeli looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"It takes them several years just to get to full speed, young lady. They weigh about a billion tonnes. They never stop; they just keep going round in circles. Full-size liners go on excursions and act as tenders, and they use aircraft, too."

"Did you know," Aviger said, looking round those still seated at the table and leaning forward with his elbows tightly folded, "you actually weigh less on a Megaship? It's because they go round in the opposite direction from the way the Orbital spins." Aviger paused and frowned. "Or is it the other way round?"

"Oh fuck," Lamm said, shaking his head violently, then getting up and leaving.

Jandraligeli frowned. "Fascinating," he said.

Dorolow smiled at Aviger, and the old man looked round the others nodding. "Well, whatever; it's a fact," Aviger declared.

"Right." Kraiklyn placed one foot up on the shuttle's rear ramp and put his hands on his hips. He wore a pair of shorts; his suit stood ready to be put on, opened down the chest front like a discarded insect skin, just behind him. "I told you we've got a job. This is what it is." Kraiklyn paused, looked at the Company, standing or sitting or leaning on guns and rifles throughout the hangar. "We're going to hit one of the Megaships." He paused, apparently waiting for a reaction. Only Aviger looked surprised and in any way excited; the rest, with only Mipp and the recently woken Lenipobra absent, seemed unimpressed. Mipp was on the bridge; Lenipobra was still struggling to get ready in his cabin.

"Well," Kraiklyn said, annoyed, "you all know that Vavatch is going to get blown away by the Culture in a few days. People have been getting everything they can off the place, and the Megaships are all abandoned now apart from a few wrecking and salvage teams. I guess all the valuables are off them. But there is one ship called the Olmedreca, where a couple of the teams had a little argument. Some careless person let off a little nuke, and now the Olmedreca's got a damn great hole in one side. It's still afloat and it's still scrubbing off speed, but, because the nuke went off on one side and that hole hasn't done a lot for the ship's streamlining, it's started going round in a big curve, and it's getting closer to the outside Edgewall all the time. The last transmission I picked up, nobody was sure whether it would hit before the Culture starts blasting or not, but they don't seem happy to take the chance, so it looks like there isn't anybody on board."