Marakata answered the summons, sliding sinuously over the mattress. Her fingers stroked Araminta's skin. The sensations her nerves experienced flowed like a tidal wave into her brain. She gasped at the impact, and pulled her attention to the sensations which were most pleasurable. Wallowing in them.

Under Likan's direction, Marakata plucked the negligee straps off Araminta's shoulders. Air flowed over her exposed breasts, followed by warm fingers. Araminta shuddered fiercely at the touch, smiling as she centred her mind on the feeling. Blood was loud and hot as it rushed into her nipples, swelling the buds.

'There, she told the owner of the fingers.

The caress was repeated, the ecstasy replicated. Then many hands were gliding over her. Warm eager mouths kissed. She wailed with helpless delight at the symphony of sensation which the harem kindled. The negligee was removed completely. Instinctively she arched her back. Likan's cock slid inside her. The experience was close to unbearable, it was all there was. Still her mind remained steadfast on the torrent of physical joy. Araminta promised herself, no matter what, she would not faint away as she had done with Bovey. This time there were no chemicals fugging her mind, this she was free to experience its incredible conclusion. She laughed and wept simultaneously as Likan started to move in a powerful rhythm. Then the harem recommenced their virtuoso performance.

The Skylord glided across the outer atmosphere of the solid planet; its vacuum wings long since retracted. Thick turbulent streams of the ionosphere swept across its forward section, creating lengthy vibrations across its giant bulk. Energy stirred in specific patterns within it, thoughts mingling with its body's elemental power, manipulating the fabric of the universe outside. Its speed began to slow, as it imposed its wishes on reality. Gently it started to lower itself into the atmosphere. Far below, the minds of the sentient entities sang out in welcome.

'Now! Cleric Conservator Ethan commanded the obedient waiting minds of the Dream Masters.

Their thoughts flared out into the gaiafield in a single stream, pushing at the dream fabric, seeking entry. Tendrils of raw will prodded and poked at the stubbornly resistant image emanating from the Second Dreamer. As the Skylord began to focus its attention of the ancient coastal city beneath, they felt its perception turn outwards, towards them. It felt them! It knew they were there!

'My Lord, Ethan called with profound respect. 'We need your help.

The Skylord's descent halted. Those dreaming the Skylord felt the mass of the planet press against the magnificent creature's perception. In that way they knew the winds that blew across the Iguru Plain. Experienced the waves rolling lazily over the Lyot Sea towards the coast. And there, right underneath them, so tantalizingly close, the physical form of Makkathran's buildings brushed against their consciousness. Each one exactly as it was in Inigo's dreams.

Adoration and gratitude swelled out into the gaiafield, buoying Ethan's thoughts along. 'We seek to reach you. Show us the way to you, my Lord. Receive us.

The dream shattered into a glorious pinnacle of agony. The Skylord's magisterial thoughts were wrenched away by a terrible power.

'NO! the Second Dreamer commanded amid the ruined bliss. 'I am me.

An infinite black surface swelled with malignant anger, sealing the gulf between the gaiafield and the Skylord.

Blinding pain seared deep into Ethan's mind as the blackness snapped at him. He screamed, every muscle contorting to fling him out of his chair and fall into merciful unconscious.

Araminta woke with a gasp, shooting upright on the bed; heart racing and breath coming in judders. She instinctively applied the program's knowledge again; settling her racing mind and quelling her body's distress. It worked a treat.

What the fuck is it with that dream?

It had been quite pleasant to start with, drifting gently above a strange planet; warm sun on her back, mysterious continents rolling by underneath. Then something happened, a smothering sensation that triggered an adrenaline rush, and she had to thrash about, trying to wake herself. Push herself clear from that oppressive constriction. It was as if someone was trying to steal her soul. She yelled defiance at the dark force, and finally managed to wake.

Kicking and writhing around as she shouted. Surely? Yet actually all she seemed to have done was shuffle round a bit and sit up.

She looked about her in confusion. Likan's boudoir was still illuminated by the same warm light. Nobody else was awake. Clemance was curled up beside her, one arm draped over her legs. The girl was stirring, blinking in confusion as Araminta moved. Araminta stroked her tangled hair and cheek, soothing her as she would a troubled child. A drowsy Clemance smiled worshipfully then closed her eyes again.

Araminta blew out an exasperated breath, and slowly sank back down. Despite the supple mattress her body was stressed tight — which would no doubt annoy Nifran. As she lay there rigid, she could hear two of the harem whimpering softly in their sleep. So she wasn't the only one suffering a bad dream. She wondered if she should creep across the room to wake them. But eventually they subsided into a deeper sleep. Yet she still couldn't relax and drop off. There was something scrabbling about in her subconscious that was unsettling her, an elusive memory she was trying to connect. Not the dream, something before that.

Once again, the program came to her aid. She cleared her mind and concentrated on her memories of the orgy. Physically, it had been hugely satisfying — no denying that. And the harem had delighted in teaching her a whole range of sensual acts which they and Likan enjoyed. But it was that ritual thing again; true passion had been missing, and with it the heat which came from abandoning herself the way she did with Bovey. This had been a little too much like mechanics, with all of them busy doing as Likan instructed.

Araminta sat up on the bed again, her skin cooling with shock. The memory of Likan and Marakata was perfectly clear in her mind, all thanks to his own wonderful program. And how's that for irony. She thought it through again, then reviewed some other suspicious recollections before finally dropping her head into her hands and groaning in dismay. 'Oh shit.

True to her word, Helenna didn't judge. She made no comment as the house emptied the drawers and closets, the clothes slithering away through the interstices between the rooms to fill her cases in the butler's lodge. Araminta almost wanted to ask how many others she'd seen leave abruptly after a night with Likan. But that would have been unfair on both of them.

Her bedroom wound through the ovoid house, and opened a door on to the path which ran round the outside of the building. Dawn light was shining a murky grey off the placid lake. Two of the household's smartly-suited staff were loading her cases back into her carry capsule.

'It's a shame, sweetie, Helenna said. 'I had you down as one who'd fit in easily here.

'Me too, Araminta said. Gave the maid a quick hug. 'Thanks for everything.

'Hey, it was nice meeting you.

Araminta turned and walked out of the bedroom. The door unrolled behind her.

'Wait! Clemance called out. 'You can't leave! She was hurrying out of another door, ten metres away, trying to pull on a translucent wrap.

Likan walked behind her, considerably more composed in a thick dark-purple robe. 'Not even going to say goodbye? he asked. There was a nasty frown on his puggish face.

'The house's net is active. You knew I was leaving. If you wanted to say anything before I left, you could, Araminta told him. 'And here you are.