Even Lord Jagged was nonplussed. "The reference was a joking one, Mr. Underwood…"

"Satan's jokes are always clever. Happily, I have the example of my Saviour. Therefore, I bid you good-day, Son of the Morning. You may have claimed my soul, but you shall never own it. I trust you are thwarted as often as possible in your machinations."

"Um…" said Lord Jagged.

Harold Underwood and Sergeant Sherwood began to head towards the interior, but not before Harold had addressed his wife: "You are doubtless already Satan's slave, Amelia. Yet I know we can still be saved, if we are genuinely repentant and believe in the Salvation of Christ. Be wary of all this, Amelia. It is merely a semblance of life."

"Very convincing, on the surface, though, isn't it, sir?" said Sergeant Sherwood.

"He is the Master Deceiver, Sergeant."

"I suppose 'e is, sir."

"But —" Harold flung an arm around his disciple — "I was right in one thing, eh? I said we should meet Him eventually."

Amelia sucked at her lower lip. "He is quite mad, Jherek. What should we do for him? Can he be sent back to Bromley?"

"He seems very much at ease here, Amelia. Perhaps so long as he receives regular meals which the city, after all, can be programmed to provide, he could stay here with Sergeant Sherwood."

"I should not like to abandon him."

"We can come and visit him from time to time."

She remained dubious. "It has not quite impinged upon me," she said, "that it is not the end of the world!"

"Have you ever seen him more relaxed?"

"Never. Very well, let him stay here, for the moment at least, in his — his Eternal Damnation." She uttered a peculiar laugh.

Inspector Springer approached Lord Jagged with due deference. "So things are more or less back to normal then, are they sir?"

"More or less, Inspector."

Inspector Springer sucked at a tooth. "Then I suppose we'd better get on with the job then, sir. Roundin' up the suspects and that…"

"Most of them are in the clear now, Inspector."

"The Latvians, Lord Jagged?"

"I suppose you could arrest them, yes."

"Very good, sir." Inspector Springer saluted and returned his attention to his twelve constables. "All right, lads. Back on duty again. What's Sherwood up to? Better give 'im a blast on your whistle, Reilly, see if 'e answers." He mopped his forehead. "This is a very peculiar place. If I was a dreamin' man, I'd be 'alf inclined to think I was in the middle of a bloomin' nightmare. Har, har!" The answering laughter of some of his men as they plodded behind him was almost hollow.

Una Persson glanced at one of several instruments attached to her arm. "I congratulate you, Lord Jagged. The first stages are a great success. We hope to be able to return to witness the completion."

"I would be honoured, Mrs. Persson."

"Forgive me, now, if I get back to my machine. Captain Bastable…"

Bastable hovered, evidently reluctant to go.

"Captain Bastable, we really must —"

He became attentive. "Of course, Mrs. Persson. The Shifter and so forth." He waved a cheerful hand to them all. "It's been an enormous pleasure. And thank you so much, Lord Jagged, for the privilege…"

"Not at all."

"I suppose, unless we do return just before the loop is finally made, we shall not be able to meet —"

"Come along, Oswald!" Mrs. Persson was marching through the mellow sunshine to where they had left their machine.

"Oh, I don't know." Lord Jagged waved in reply. "A pleasant journey to you."

"Thanks most awfully, again."

"Captain Bastable!"

"— because of the drawbacks you mentioned," shouted Bastable breathlessly, and ran to join his co-chrononaut.

When they had gone, Amelia Underwood looked almost suspiciously at the man Jherek one day hoped to make her father-in-law. "The world is definitely saved, is it, Lord Jagged?"

"Oh, definitely. The cities have ample energy. The time-loop, when it is made, will re-cycle that energy. Jherek has told you of his adventures in the Nursery. You understand the principle."

"Sufficiently, I hope. But Captain Bastable spoke of drawbacks."

"I see." Lord Jagged pulled his cloak about him. Now Mongrove and the Duke of Queens, the time-traveller and the Iron Orchid, Jherek and Amelia were all that remained of his audience. He spoke more naturally. "Not for all, Amelia, those drawbacks. After a short period of readjustment, say a month, in which Nurse and I will test our equipment until we are satisfied with its functioning, the world will be in a perpetually closed circuit, with both past and future abolished. A single planet turning about a single sun will be all that remains of this universe. It will mean, therefore, that both time-travel and space-travel will be impossible. The drawback will be (for many of us) that there is no longer any intercourse between our world of the End of Time and other worlds."

"That is all?"

"It will mean much to some."

"To me!" groaned the Duke of Queens. "I do wish you had told me, Jagged. I'd hoped to re-stock my menagerie." He looked speculatively at the Pweelian spaceship. He fingered a power-ring.

"A few time-travellers may yet arrive, before the loop is made," comforted Jagged. "Besides, doleful Duke, your creative instincts will be fulfilled for a while, I am sure, by helping in the resurrection of all our old friends. There are dozens. Argonheart Po…"

"Bishop Castle. My Lady Charlotina. Mistress Christia. Sweet Orb Mace. O'Kala Incarnadine. Doctor Volospion." The Duke brightened.

"The long-established time-travellers, like Li Pao, may also still he here — or will re-appear, thanks to the Morphail Effect."

"I thought you had proved that a fallacy, Lord Jagged." Mongrove spoke with interest.

"I have proved it a Law — but not the only Law — of Time."

"We shall resurrect Brannart and tell him!" said the Iron Orchid.

Amelia was frowning. "So the planet will be completely isolated, for eternity, in time and space."

"Exactly," said Jagged.

"Life will continue as it has always done," said the Duke of Queens. "Who shall you resurrect first, Mongrove?"

"Werther de Goethe, I suppose. He is no real fellow spirit, but he will do for the moment." The giant cast a glance back at the Pweelian spaceship as he began to move his great bulk forward. "Though it will be a travesty, of course."

"What do you mean, melancholy Mongrove?" The Duke of Queens turned a power-ring to rid himself of his uniform and replace it with brilliant multicoloured feathers from head to foot, a coxcomb in place of his hair.

"A travesty of life. This will be a stagnant planet, forever cycling a stagnant sun. A stagnant society, without progress or past. Can you not see it, Duke of Queens? Shall we have been spared death only to become the living dead, dancing forever to the same stale measures?"

The Duke of Queens was amused. "I congratulate you, Lord Mongrove. You have found an image with which to distress yourself. I admire your alacrity!"

Lord Mongrove licked his large lips and wrinkled his great nose. "Ah, mock me, as you always mock me — as you all mock me. And why not? I am a fool! I should have stayed out there, in space, while suns flickered and faded and whole planets exploded and became dust. Why remain here, after all, a maggot amongst maggots?"

"Oh, Mongrove, your gloom is of the finest!" Lord Jagged congratulated him. "Come — you must all be my guests at Castle Canaria!"

"Your castle survives, Jagged?" Jherek asked, putting his arm round his Amelia's waist.

"As a memory, swiftly restored to reality — as shall be the entire society at the End of Time. That is what I meant, Amelia, when I told you that memories would suffice."

She smiled a little bleakly. She had been listening intently to Mongrove's forebodings. It took some little while before she could rid herself of her thoughts and laugh with the others as they said farewell to the time-traveller, who intended, now that he had certain information from Mrs. Persson, to make repairs to his craft and return to his own world if he could.