'I'd introduce you, Marius said coldly. 'But of all the people on this station, Troblum, you are the one who doesn't need it. Now do you?

'Really, the Cat said, and grinned. 'Why's that?

Troblum's very dark fascination kept his muscles locked up tight. She wasn't easy to recognize, she didn't have that trademark spiked hair out of all her history files. It was still short and dark, but today she wore it in a smooth swept back style with a pair of slim copper shades perched up above her forehead. She was dressed in a chic modern suit rather than the leather trousers and tight vest she used to favour. But that darkish complexion and wide amused grin veering on the crazy… There was no mistake. She was so much smaller than he imagined, it was confusing, she barely came up to his shoulder height, yet he'd always visualized her as an Amazon.

'Troblum has a penchant for history, Marius said. 'He knows all sorts of odd facts.

'What's my favourite food? the Cat asked.

'Lemon risotto with asparagus, Troblum stammered. 'It was the specialty dish at the restaurant you waitressed in when you were fifteen.

The Cat's grin sharpened. 'What the fuck is he? She turned to Marius for an explanation.

'An idiot savant with a fetish about the Starflyer War. He's useful to us.

'Whatever turns you on.

'You're in suspension, Troblum said flatly; he couldn't help the words coming out even though he was afraid of her. 'It was a five thousand year sentence.

'Aww. He's quite sweet, actually, the Cat told Marius. She gave Troblum a lewd wink. 'I'll finish it one day. Promise.

'If you have a moment, please, Marius asked Neskia. 'We need to sort a proper ship out for our guest.

'Of course, she stood up.

'Oh yes, Marius added, as though it were of no consequence. 'Is Troblum behaving himself?

Neskia looked from Marius to Troblum. 'So far so good. He's been quite helpful.

'Keep it up, Marius said. He wasn't smiling.

Troblum bowed his head, unable to look at any of them. Too many people. Too close. Too intrusive. And one of them is the Cat! He wasn't prepared for that kind of encounter today. Nor any day. But she was out of suspension — somehow, walking around. She's in this station!

His medical display flashed up blue symbols down the side of his exovision, telling him his biononics were engaging, re-animating his chest muscles, calming them into a steady rhythm. It hadn't registered with him the way he'd started to suck his breath down as if his throat was constricted. A small cocktail of drugs were flushed out of macrocellular glands, bringing down his heart rate.

Troblum risked a glance up, his face pulled into a horren-dously guilty expression. The three of them were gone, out of sight, out of the saloon. He was gathering an excessive number of curious looks from his colleagues who were still seated. He wanted to tell them, to shout: It's not me you should he staring at.

Instead, he felt the trembling start deep in his torso. He stood up fast. Which made his head spin. Biononics reinforced his leg muscles, allowing him to hurry out of the saloon. In the corridor, his u-shadow diverted a trollybot for him sit on. It carried him all the way back to his quarters, where he flopped on to the bed. He loaded a nine-level certificate into the lock even though he knew how useless that was.

The Cat!

He lay on the bed with the cabin heating up, feeling the shock slowly ebbing away. Release from the physical symptoms did nothing to alleviate the dread. Of all the megalomaniacs and psychopaths in history, the Accelerators had chosen to bring her back. Troblum lay there in the warm darkness for hours wondering what they were facing which was so terrible they had no choice but to use her. He'd always been behind the whole Accelerator movement because it was such a logical one. They were nurturing an evolutionary lineage which had started with single cell amoebas and would end with elevation to post-physical status. A necessity that couldn't be disputed. The other Factions were wrong, it was that obvious. To him. Accelerator philosophy appealed to his physicist nature; because that hurtful vicious bastard Marius was right, there was very little else in the way of personality.

Forget that. It's not relevant.

Because anything that has to use the Cat to make it work can't be right. It just can't.

'—thus because the city is deemed to be a sole entity in its own right no human can «own» their residence in the traditional legal sense. However, in the fifteenth year after Rah's arrival, the newly formed Upper Council passed the first Act Of Registry. Essentially that means that any human can claim a residence within the city wall for their own usage. In order to register you simply have to find a house or maisonette or room which is unoccupied, stay in it for two days and two nights, then register your claim with the Board of Occupancy. This claim once notarized will allow you and your descendants to live there until such time as they choose to relinquish it. As there are no new buildings, and can never be, the most desirable and largest homes were claimed within ten years of Rah opening the first gate. These are now the palaces of our most ancient families, the District Masters, and as such can have up to five generations living in them, all of them first sons waiting to inherit the estate and seat on the Upper Council. The remaining available accommodation in the city today is small and badly configured for human occupation. Although even this is diminishing rapidly. Thus, while districts such as Eyrie are basically uninhabitable—

Edeard hoped he hadn't just groaned out loud from the terrible boredom. He was now as adept as any Makkathran citizen at veiling his emotions from casual farsight, but if Master Solarin from the Guild of Lawyers used the word thus one more time… It was a mystery how the old man could talk so long without a break. Rumour at the station was that Master Solarin was over two hundred and fifty years old. Edeard would be surprised if that were true. He certainly didn't look that young. His white hair had receded so far that the top of his skull was now completely bald, something Edeard had never seen before, though the remaining strands were long enough to reach down over his shoulders. And his limbs were horribly thin and frail, while his fingers had swollen to the point where he had trouble flexing them. His vocal chords, however, suffered no such malaise.

Along with his fellow probationary constables, Edeard was sitting at a bench in the small hall of the Jeavons station, listening to their weekly lecture on basic Makkathran law. In another two months they'd be facing a batch of exams on the subject, which they had to pass in order to graduate. Like all of them, he found Solarin a sore test of patience. A quick scan round showed Boyd was almost asleep. Macsen's eyes were unfocused as he longtalked the girls in the dressmaker's shop at the end of the street. Kanseen appeared to be paying polite attention but Edeard knew her well enough now to see she was as bored as him. Dinlay, though, was sitting up with rapt attention and even taking notes. Somehow Edeard couldn't quite laugh at that. Poor old Dinlay had so much to prove to his father and uncles he would undoubtedly pass his exams with high grades. That presented the rest of them with the very real danger that once they graduated, Dinlay would be appointed their squad leader. It would be something he took very seriously.

'—thus the precedence was set for the lower ancillary court to hear any application to evict when a civil malfeasance is suspected of taking place within the property itself. In practice a full hearing is unnecessary, and you may request a provisional eviction notice from the duty magistrate who acts as de facto high council to the lower court. And that I'm afraid brings this session to its successful conclusion. We will deal with the criteria for such application next week. In the meantime I'd like you all to read Sampsols Common Law, Volume Three, chapters thirteen through twenty-seven by the time I return. It covers the main parameters of weapons usage within the city wall. I might even enliven our time together with a small test. How exciting that will be, eh? Until then, I thank you for your interest and bid you farewell. Solarin gave them a vague smile and removed his gold-rimmed glasses before shutting the big book he'd covered with annotations. His ge-monkey placed it carefully in a leather shoulder bag along with the other books the lawyer used for his lecture.