'How I envy you that day. Did she frighten you?

'I was weary of her. We all were. Perhaps you should be?

'I would not be frightened. I would be honoured.

'She is evil.

'Of course she is. But she is also noble. She showed us the way, she gave the Guardians of Selfhood purpose once more. She was the one who brought us together with the Barsoomians. After the Starflyer was destroyed, after you helped kill it, Oscar, there was nothing left for our ancestors. Bradley Johansson originally built us out of the ruin of enslavement. He forged us into warrior tribes to fight the greatest battle humans had ever known. The battle to save our entire species. And when it was over, he was dead, and we were lost, doomed to wither away as a dwindling band of old soldiers without a cause. An anachronistic embarrassment as Far Away was civilized by the Commonwealth.

'Soldiers always have to hang up their weapons in the end. 'You don't understand. It was our ethos she rescued. She showed us that strength is a virtue, a blessing. It is our evolution and should not be denied the way the liberals of the Commonwealth do, treating it as if it were some ignominious part of us to be always denied. If we had not been strong, if Bradley had not remained steadfast, the Commonwealth would have died on that same day you did, Oscar. If the Barsoomians hadn't maintained their clarity, today's humans would be emaciated short-lived creatures. He smiled at the portrait. 'One of us had strength, the other, purpose. She saw them both and combined them into a single bold principle, she gave us a vision we can remain forever true to. There is no shame in strength, Oscar.

'I know, Oscar said reluctantly. 'That's why I'm here. 'I had hoped that. You said you needed help. 'I do. He paused. 'What if it goes against your ideology? Tomansio laughed. 'We don't have one, Oscar. That's the point of the Knights Guardian movement. We follow one creed: strength. That is what we want to impart to humanity as it grows and diversifies. It is the most basic evolutionary tenet. Those sections of humanity who embrace it will survive, it's as simple as that. We are nature as raw as it can get. The fact that we are perceived as nothing other than mercenaries is not our problem. When we are hired to perform a job we do it thoroughly. 'I need subtlety for this. At least to begin with. 'We can do subtle, Oscar. Covert operations are one of our specialties. We embrace all forms of human endeavour, apart from the blatantly wicked, or stupid. For instance, we won't perform a heist for you. The Knights Guardians take their oath of honour very seriously.

Oscar almost started to ask about the Cat and what she used to do. Decided against. 'I have to find someone, and then extend them an offer of protection.

'That sounds very worthy. Who is it?

'The Second Dreamer.

For the first time since they'd met, Oscar witnessed Tomansio lose his reserve. 'No shit? The Knight Guardian started to laugh. 'Twelve hundred years without you, and now you bring us this. Oscar, you were almost worth the wait. The Second Dreamer himself! He suddenly sobered. 'I won't ask why. But thank you from the bottom of my simple heart for coming to us.

'The why is actually very simple. There are too many people who wish to influence him. If he does choose to emerge from the shadows, he should be free to make his own choice.

'To go to the Void or not, to possibly trigger the end of the Galaxy in pursuit of our race's fate — or not. What a grail to guard, Oscar. What a challenge.

'I take it that's a yes?

'My team will be ready to leave in less than an hour.

'Will you be leading them?

'What do you think?

'I was so sure! Araminta exclaimed. 'She was this mild scatty little thing. She did everything he told her to, and I do mean everything.

'Face it, darling, at the time you weren't in any position to be the perfect observer, Cressida said archly.

'But it was the way she did it. You don't understand. She was eager. Obedient. Like the other ones. I think. Shit. Do you think he was chossing me about? Maybe she is profiled and he told her to always give that answer. Araminta made an effort to calm down. Alcohol was a good suppressant. She tipped the wine bottle over her glass. There was none left. 'Damn!

Cressida signalled the smart-suited waiter. 'Quite an offer, though.

'Yeah. What is it about men? Why are they all complete shits? I mean, what kind of mentality does that? Those women are slaves.

'I know.

The waiter brought another bottle over and flipped the seal. 'The gentleman over there has asked if he can pay for it.

Araminta and Cressida looked across towards the giant floor-to-ceiling window, which gave them a stunning view out across the luminous glow of the night time city. The bar was on the thirty-fifth floor of the Salamartin Hotel tower, and attracted a lot of tourist types who thought nothing of paying the absurd bar prices. Today every room in the hotel was taken by Living Dream followers, which was why the lobby was besieged by protestors. Araminta had forced her way through the angry chanting mob to plead with the doorman to let her in. She'd been frightened; there was a strong threat of violence building up on the street. Cressida of course had the authorization code to land her capsule on the executive rooftop pad.

The man smiling at them from a table in front of the window was dressed in natural fabric clothes styled as only a Makkathran resident would wear.

'No, Araminta and Cressida chorused.

The waiter smiled understanding, and started pouring.

Araminta watched morosely as her glass was filled. 'Do you think I should go to the police?

'No, Cressida said emphatically. 'You do not go down that road, not ever. He sat you next to the Prime Minister at dinner for Ozzie's sake. You know how powerful he is. Besides which, no police force on the planet would investigate him, and even if they did they'd never be able to prove anything. Those girls — if you were right, and I'm not saying you're not — wouldn't ever be found, let alone analysed to see if their brain was wired up illegally. Forget it.

'How about the Commonwealth Government? Don't they have some kind of crime agency?

'The Intersolar Serious Crimes Directorate. So you take a trip to their local office, which is probably on Ellezelin, and you walk in and say you think some of his wives might be psychoneural profiled, because of how they behaved while you were all having sex together, an orgy during which incidentally your macrocellu-lar clusters were running a sexual narcotic program.

'It wasn't a narcotic, Araminta said automatically.

'Point in your favour, then. That should do it.

'All right! What if I told them about his commercial plans? The way he's built up Albany's capacity?

'Tell whom?

Araminta pouted. For a friend, Cressida wasn't being very helpful. 'I'm not sure. The industrial association of Ellezelin, or whatever it's called.

'Do you think they don't know? Albany isn't something you can hide. And exactly what has that got to do with psychoneural profiling?

'I dunno.

'Sounds more like vengeance than justice to me.

'He's a shit. He deserves it.

'Was he good in bed?

Araminta hoped she wasn't blushing as she concentrated on pouring out some more wine. 'He was adequate.

'Listen darling, I'm afraid this is one of those nasty times when you just have to forget him and move on. You learned a valuable lesson: just how ruthless you have to be to get on in this sad old universe of ours.

Araminta's head collapsed down into her hands, sending her hair tumbling down around her glass. 'Oh Great Ozzie, I went and had sex with him! How humiliating is that? She wished she could get rid of the memory, at least the bit about how much she'd enjoyed herself. Actually, there were various commercially available routines and drugs capable of performing neat little memory edits. Oh stop being so self-pitying, girl.