Aaron stood under the tall novik trees that dominated the fane's encircling park, and looked up at the tapering turrets with their bristling bracelets of stone sculptures, his nose wrinkling in dismay. 'The arcology couldn't have been worse than this, he declared. 'This is your leader's ultimate temple, his statement to his birthplace that he's moved onwards and upwards? Damn! He must have really hated his old town to do this to it. All this says to me is beware of Kuhmoians bearing gifts.

Corrie-Lyn sighed and shook her head. 'Ozzie, but you are such a philistine.

'Know what I like, though. And, lady, this ain't it. Even the old Big 15 worlds had better architecture than this.

'So what are you going to do, hit it with a disruptor pulse?

'Tempting, I have to admit. But no. We'll indulge in a little data mining first.

The Inigo museum, in reality a shrine, was every bit as bad as Aaron expected it to be. For a start they couldn't just wander round. They had to join the queue of devout outside the main entrance and were assigned a 'guide'. The tour was official and structured. Each item was accompanied by a full sense recording and corresponding emotional content radiating out into the gaiafield.

So he gritted his teeth and put on a passive smile as they were led round Inigo's childhood home, diligently uprooted from its original location two kilometres away and lovingly restored using era-authentic methods and materials. Each room contained a boring yet worshipful account of childhood days. There were solidos of his mother Sabine. Cute dramas of his grandparents whose house it was. A sad section devoted to his father Erik Horovi who left Sabine a few short months after the birth. Cue reconstruction of the local hospital maternity ward.

Aaron gave the solido of Erik a thoughtful stare, and sent his u-shadow into its public datastore to extract useful information. Erik had been eighteen years old when Inigo was born. When Aaron checked back, Sabine was a month short of her eighteenth birthday when she gave birth.

'Didn't they have a contraception program here in those days? he asked the guide abruptly.

Corrie-Lyn groaned and flushed a mild pink. The guide's pleasant smile flickered slightly, returning in a somewhat harder manifestation. 'Excuse me?

'Contraception? It's pretty standard for teenagers no matter what cultural stream you grow up in. He paused, reviewing the essentially non-existent information on Sabine's parents. 'Unless the family was old-style Catholics or initiated Taliban or Evangelical Orthodox. Were they?

'They were not, the guide said stiffly. 'Inigo was proud that he did not derive from any of Earth's appalling medieval religious sects. It means his goals remain untainted.

'I see. So his birth was planned, then?

'His birth was a blessing to humanity. He is the one chosen by the Waterwalker to show us what lies within the Void. Why do you ask? Are you some kind of Unisphere journalist?

'Certainly not. I'm a cultural anthropologist. Naturally I'm interested in procreation rituals.

The guide gave him a suspicious stare, but let it pass. Aaron's u-shadow had been ready to block any query the man shot into the local net. They'd managed to get through the museum's entrance without any alarm, which meant Living Dream hadn't yet issued a Commonwealth-wide alert. But they'd certainly respond swiftly enough to any identity file matching himself and Corrie-Lyn, no matter what planet it originated from. And the fact it came from Anagaska barely two days after the Riasi incident would reveal exactly what type of starship they were using. He couldn't allow that.

'Hardly a ritual, the guide sniffed.

'Anthropologists think everything we do is summed up in terms of rituals, Corrie-Lyn said smoothly. 'Now tell me, is this really Inigo's university dorm? She waved her hand eagerly at the drab holographic room in front of them. Various shabby and decayed pieces of furniture that resembled those shown in full 3Dcolour were on display in transparent stasis chambers.

'Yes, the guide said, returning to equilibrium. 'Yes it is. This is where he began his training as an astrophysicist; the first step on the path that took him to Centurion Station. As an environment, its significance cannot be overstated.

'Gosh, Corrie-Lyn cooed.

Aaron was impressed that she kept a straight face.

'What was that all about? Corrie-Lyn asked when they were in a taxi capsule and heading back for the spaceport hotel.

'You didn't think it was odd?

'So two horney teenagers decided to have a kid. It's not unheard of.

'Yes it is. They were both still at school. Then Erik vanishes a few months after the birth. Plus you tell me Inigo had an aunt, who has been very effectively written out of his family. And you claim Inigo is Higher, which must have happened either at birth or early in his life; that is, prior to his Centurion mission.

'What makes you say that?

'Because, as you said, he took extreme care to hide it from his followers; it's not logical to assume he'd acquire biononics after he began Living Dream.

'Granted, but where does all this theorizing get you?

'It tells me just what a load of bullshit his official past is, Aaron said, waving a hand back at the shrinking museum. 'That farce is a perfect way of covering up his true history, it provides a flawless alternative version with just enough true points touching verifiable reality as to go unquestioned. Unless of course you're like us and happen to know some awkward facts which don't fit. If he was born Higher, then one of his parents had to be Higher. Sabine almost certainly wasn't; and Erik conveniently walks out on his child a few months after the birth.

'It was too much for the boy, that's all. If Inigo's birth was an accident like you think, that's hardly surprising.

'No. That's not it. I don't think it was an accident. Quite the opposite. He told his u-shadow to review local events for the year prior to Inigo's birth, using non-Living Dream archives. They'd almost reached the hotel when the answer came back. 'Ah ha, this is it. He shared the file with her. 'Local news company archive. They were bought out by an Intersolar two hundred years ago and the town office downgraded to closure which is why the files were deep cached. The art block in Kuhmo's college burned down eight and a half months before Inigo was born.

'It says the block was the centre of a gang fight, Corrie-Lyn said as she speed-reviewed. 'A bunch of hothead kids duking out a turf war.

'Yeah right. Now launch a search for Kuhmo gang-culture. Specifically for incidents with weapons usage. Go ahead. I'll give you thousand to one odds there aren't any other files, not for fifty years either side of that date. Look at the history of this place before Inigo built his monstrosity. There was nothing here worth fighting over; not even for kids on the bottom of the pile. The council switched between three parties, and they were all virtually indistinguishable, their polices were certainly the same: low taxes, cut back on official wastage, attract business investment, and make sure the parks look pretty. Hell, they didn't even manage to get rid of the arcology by themselves. That thing stood there for nearly nine hundred years. Nine hundred, for Ozzie's sake! And they couldn't get their act together for all that time. Kuhmo is the ultimate middle-class dead-end, drifting along in the same rut for a thousand years. Bad boys don't want a part of that purgatory, it's like a suspension sentence but with sensory torture thrown in; they just want to leave.

'All right, all right, I submit. Inigo has a dodgy family history. What's your point?

'My theory is a radical infiltration; it's about the right time period. And that certainly won't be on any news file, deep cached or otherwise.