Makkathran.

Edeard experienced the wonder of its thoughts. Immersing himself in a melody where a single beat lasted for years, chords so grand they could shake the very ground apart if they ever gained substance. The city slept the long sleep of all giants; untainted by the pitiful frantic tempo of parasitic humans crawling through its physical extremities.

It was content.

Edeard bathed in its ancient serenity, and slowly fell into a dreamless sleep.

'How long? Corrie-Lyn asked.

Aaron growled again and ignored her. He was inside a gym cage that the starship's cabin had extruded; testing the flexibility and strength of his restored upper torso. Pulling weight, pushing weight, bending, twisting. Working up a sweat as endurance was evaluated, measuring the oxygen consumption of the new flesh, blood flow rate, nerve speed…

'You knew Qatux could do it, she whined. 'So you must know how long it'll take.

Aaron gritted his teeth as gravity shifted off vertical and increased, forcing him to pull the handle he was gripping while stretching at the same time. Biononics reported the tendons were approaching their tear limit.

His patience was also undergoing a strenuous work out. They'd been back in the Artful Dodger for fifteen hours, a time which Corrie-Lyn had devoted to drinking and moaning. She now considered handing over Inigo's memories to be a terrible betrayal, not to mention a bad idea. A really bad idea. Stupid actually. As she kept saying.

'So it'll have like a mini-Inigo hanging round inside its own brain?

Aaron took a look at the oxygen usage in his shoulder muscles. The levels were only a couple of points off the original muscle. Not bad for a couple of days. Drugs and biononics had done what they could, the rest of it was down to good old-fashioned exercise. A decent callisthenics program should see the levels equalize over the next week or so. He shut the gym down.

'Something like that, he said.

Corrie-Lyn blinked at the unexpected answer. She rolled over on the couch and reached for the pitcher of tasimion margarita. 'So you ask the mini-Inigo a question…

'And Qatux answers it for us. Yes.

'What a load of bullshit.

'We'll see. He slipped his T-shirt off, and examined his torso. The membrane was starting to peel off. Underneath, the new skin was tender, but at last the colour was deepening to the same shade as the rest of him. 'I'm going to take a shower, he said.

'You're shaping up good, she giggled. 'Need a hand in there?

Aaron rolled his eyes. 'No thanks. He now had a strong theory of his own why Inigo had run away from Living Dream, and it wasn't anything to do with Last Dreams or the pressure of being idolized by billions. Maybe she only turned into this after he left?

The gym sank into the wall, and there was a moment's pause before the shower cubical extended out from the same section. He slipped his shorts off and stepped in as Corrie-Lyn let out a wolf-whistle. He must be recuperating, his cock was stirring. But if Qatux did come up with a notion of where the reluctant messiah was hiding out, she'd be more necessary than ever. So he turned the spore temperature down about as low as it would go, and thought of other things. Unfortunately, with a memory that didn't reach back past Ethan's appointment he didn't have much to mull over. Except his odd dreams. That horse ride… he'd been young. So it must have been his childhood. Seemed pleasant enough.

After he'd showered, they carried on their research into the odd Raiel who'd agreed to help them. Clued in by what it had said they'd sent their u-shadows out into the Unisphere to search for files on the history of Far Away during the Starflyer War. The first surprise was to find just over a million files on the period available. It took eight hours for them to filter it down to relevant and useful information. Even then, their was no direct evidence Qatux had been there.

There were endless documents on Bradley Johansson's team of Guardians chasing the Starflyer back to its lair, and how they joined up with an odd security team that Nigel Sheldon assigned to help them. Admiral Kime was one of them, of course; that was a common history text. His audacious hyperglider flight over Mount Herculaneum, and subsequent rescue by Nigel himself. Anna the Judas. Oscar the martyr. Paula Myo and the Navy interdiction squad, Cat's Claws.

'I didn't know it was Nigel who originally sent the Cat to Far Away, Corrie-Lyn exclaimed. 'What was he thinking of? She was sober again after a meal and a couple of alcohol-binder aerosols. Aspects of the search seemed to genuinely interest her.

'Be fair, he couldn't see the future.

There were some appendices that claimed the pursuit was aided by an alien. But the context was strange. The Bose motile was known to be part of Nigel's secret clique at the time. There were no references to a Raiel. One file said the Barsoomian group helped Johansson because he'd brought their genetic holy grail to Far Away. Again, nothing as to what that grail actually was.

'Let's try another angle, Aaron said. He told his u-shadow to find all files relating to a Commonwealth citizen called Tiger Pansy around the time of the Starflyer War.

The cabin's portal projected a rather startling image.

'No way, Corrie-Lyn said.

Aaron stared at the woman in equal disbelief. She was a complete mess. Terrible hair; bad facial reprofiling ruining the symmetry of her eyes, nose, and lips, appalling cosmetics making them appear worse; ridiculous breast enlargements; tight, short clothes that no girl over twenty could ever get away with wearing, let alone this one who must have been close to rejuvenation time again.

'Signed to the Wayside Production company on Oaktier, Corrie-Lyn read off her exovision. 'Appeared in a large number of their, aha, productions. Left them in the last year of the Starflyer War. No subsequent information. Nothing; no residency listing on any planetary cybersphere, no records of rejuvenation treatment, no bodyloss certificate. She simply dropped out of sight.

Aaron shook himself and cancelled the projection. 'Easy enough at the time. There was a mass migration from the Lost23 worlds which the Primes had invaded. After that, it got even more chaotic'

'Coincidence?

'The Raiel are not known for their lies. Maybe Qatux did marry her. She certainly looks the emotional type.

'That's not quite how I'd describe her, Corrie-Lyn muttered. And how did she get to Far Away? The planet was virtually cut off for decades until the starlines started flying there.

'She must have been with the Johansson team. I don't think it's relevant.

'No, but it's interesting. Why would a Raiel go there?

'You want to ask?

She shook her head. 'Naa, too intimidated.

'I'll ask for you.

'No. Let's just drop it.

'You're right though. It is interesting. I was obviously given the correct information. Qatux helps humans.

'He said he used to. Until Tiger Pansy was killed.

'By the Cat, no less. That'd be enough to shock anyone out of their dependency routine, no matter how delightful and ingrained.

'Yes, well, thank Ozzie, Paula Myo finally caught her.

'Yeah. And in about another four thousand years we can all share the joy of her coming out of suspension.

'Urrgh. I won't be around for that no matter what.

'Qatux knew Paula Myo, Aaron said. 'I wonder if that's relevant.

'How could it be?

He waited for a moment to see if his subconscious produced any clues. It didn't. 'No idea.

The Artful Dodgers smartcore told them the High Angel was calling. 'Please prepare for teleport, the alien starship told them.

'Oh bollocks, Corrie-Lyn said as she clambered to her feet. 'I really don't like this—