'Ignore him, Dinlay said. 'He's just bitter at the way he got treated by his father's family.

'Not as bitter as they'll be when I'm through with them, Macsen said with unexpected heat.

'Plans for revenge? Kanseen asked.

'Don't have to plan. Those arrogant turds break the law a dozen times a week. One day I'll have the clout to have the whole lot of the bastards locked up and ruined.

'Now that's what I like to see: ambition.

'How come you didn't join a Guild, Edeard? Macsen asked. 'You have more psychic talent than the rest of us put together.

'I don't want to be ordered around for the next seven years, he told them simply.

'Lady bless that, Dinlay said. 'We just have to grit our teeth for six months and we've made it.

'That's a curious definition of making it, Kanseen said in a dismissive voice as a ge-monkey brought her a tray with a bowl of porridge and a tall glass of milk. 'Being allowed out on to the streets by ourselves to be shoved around by gangs and get beaten up trying to stop tavern fights.

'Then why are you here? Macsen asked.

She took a long drink of milk. 'Do you see me being a proper little wife to some oaf of a tradesman?

'Not all tradesmen are oafs, Boyd said defensively.

Macsen ignored him. 'Good for you, he told Kanseen.

Her head turned ponderously to stare at him. 'Not interested, thanks.

Edeard grinned while Dinlay and Boyd both laughed.

'Me neither, Macsen insisted, but he'd lost the moment and sounded very insincere.

'So is Chae right about buying the uniform? Edeard asked. He was conscious that he probably had more coinage in his pocket than the others.

'Depends, Dinlay said. 'If you're definitely going to be a constable then it doesn't matter how you pay. But if you're uncertain then you're best off having them take it from your wages, that way when you leave after a couple of weeks you hand the uniform back and you haven't lost any of your own money.

'Oh face facts, Macsen said. 'If we're here, it's not because we're uncertain: we're plain desperate.

'Speak for yourself, Dinlay said. 'This is my family profession.

'Then I apologize. I don't have the nicety of alternatives.

'You could have joined the gangs, Kanseen said lightly. 'It probably pays better.

Macsen showed her a fast hand gesture.

'How bad are they? Edeard asked. 'The gangs, I mean. I'd never heard of them before I reached town.

'Lady, you really are from the countiyside, aren't you, Macsen said. 'When did you get here?

'Yesterday.

'Yesterday! he said it in a voice so loud that several constables glanced curiously over at their table.

'Yesterday, Edeard said firmly.

'Okay, well, too late now. The gangs are big in some districts and not in others; the majority are based in Sampalok. If you're rich they're not much of a problem, if you're poor then it's more difficult for you. They specialize in protection. Think of them as an alternative tax system to the Grand Council.

'But with violence, Dinlay said. 'They're murderous scum, and they should be wiped out.

'After first being fairly found guilty in court, Macsen said with a smile.

'They're a real problem and getting worse, Boyd said. 'My brother is having to pay them to leave the bakery alone, and he's only ten minutes away from this station; which puts him about as far from Sampalok as you can be. It used to be safe there; my father never used to have such trouble.

'Why doesn't he report them to the constables? Edeard said.

Macsen gave a disrespectful snort. 'Take a look around you, Edeard. Would you ask us to protect you from an organized gang who think it's funny to throw your children or you mother into the canal with a rock tied to them? Are you going to stand outside a baker's shop for twenty-four hours a day for ten years just to save them? Do you think Chae would let you? And if he did, what about everyone else in the district? No. They're a fact of life in Makkathran now. The best the constables do is maintain an uneasy truce and stop us from falling into complete anarchy.

'So young, so cynical, Kanseen said. 'Ignore them, Edeard, it's nothing like as bad as they say.

'I hope not, he said in a subdued voice. Maybe he was still suffering from the shock of city life, but he had an uncomfortable feeling that Grand Master Finitan hadn't been entirely honest with him about life in Makkathran.

Investigator, second level, Halran stood in the vault's open door and surveyed the chaos inside. Every surface — walls, floor, ceiling, corpses — had been covered in a thick carpet of blue-grey gossamer fibre, as if a million spiders had spent the night spinning their webs together. The slender strands were actually semi-organic filaments that had taken over three hours to neutralize the nerve toxin leaking from spent kinetic projectiles, and also damp down several other lethal energy surges coming from munitions left over from the firefight. Halran was mildly surprised that the St Mary's Clinic would use nerve agents, but then important people did like reassurance that their secure memory stores were truly secure. He'd told the clinic manager that he'd be inspecting their toxic armaments user certificate at noon. A timescale long enough for high-level calls to be placed and the correct licence to be procured. It was that kind of flexible interpretation of procedure which had earned Halran his last two promotions. He figured what-the-hell, the big boys ran the world anyway, there was little capital to be made from annoying them. That was why the Police Commissioner handed him this assignment. And as soon as he got it, the Mayor's assistant was calling him to explain certain political considerations. Foremost of which was that the complete destruction of half a million memorycells belonging to the wealthiest, most influential people living in the state had not actually happened. If there was a temporary glitch in kube data retrieval due to the unfortunate accident with the clinic's power generator it was regrettable, but not a cause for alarm, nor excessive media interest. Reporters could cover the damage to the forest, they were not to be permitted into the administration block and its sub-levels.

Halran's u-shadow completed its analysis of the gossamer and reported that decontamination was complete. 'All right, he told the eight-strong forensic team standing behind him in the corridor, 'I want a full scene survey down to a molecular level. No budget limit; this is way way above our usual priority rating. Col, Angelo, you build the event sequence for me. Darval, see if you can get me the name of the memorycell that bastard Telfer was after.

Darval peered over Halran's shoulder; the emergency lighting projector rigged up in the doorway produced a silver-blue holographic glow throughout the vault, eliminating shadows. It made the gossamer shimmer softly, resembling a rippled moonlit lake as its undulations smothered the congealed splinters of half a million kubes. 'How in Ozzie's name am I going to do that, Chief?

Halran gave him an evil grin. 'There should be one missing. So all you have to do is reassemble the fragments of those that are still here, and tell me which one was taken.

'Fuck me.

'Good point. Plan B: go through the names on the registry and assign them a probability of someone wanting to steal their memories. Start with political, criminal, and financial categories.

Darval gave a reluctant nod.

'Force fields on at all times, please, Halran ordered. 'There were some very nasty munitions loose in here, I don't want to take any chances.

The forensic team moved cautiously into the vault. Examiners scurried in with them, bots like lead cockroaches scuttling along on black electromuscle legs, bristling with sensory antenna that wiggled though the gossamer to stroke the surfaces beneath. Over two thousand were released, streaming over the floor and up the walls to build up a comprehensive molecular map of the vault.