"You object to casuistry, and yet you do not disdain the use of empty paradox, I note." Doctor Volospion remained, so it appeared, in good humour. "I am sure, sir, when we are better acquainted, you will not be so wary of me."

"Wary? I should be wary? Ha! If that is how you would misrepresent my nature, to comfort yourself, then I give you full permission. But know this — in giving that permission I am allowing you to remain in the grave when it might have been that you could have known true life again."

"I am impressed…"

"No more! I am your Master, whether you acknowledge it or no, whether I care or no, and that is unquestionable. I'll waste no more energy in debate with you, manikin."

"Manikin!" Miss Ming snorted. "That's a good one."

Doctor Volospion put a finger on his lips. "Please, Miss Ming. I would continue this conversation."

"After he's insulted you —"

"He speaks his mind, that is all. He does not know our preferences for euphemism and ornament, and so —"

"Exactly," said Abu Thaleb, relieved. "He will come to understand our ways soon."

"Be certain," fluted the stranger, "that it is you who will come to understand my ways. I have no respect for customs, manners, fashions, for I am Bloom the Eternal. I am Bloom, who has experienced All. I am Emmanuel Bloom, whom Time cannot touch, whom Space cannot suppress!"

"A name at last," said Doctor Volospion in apparent delight. "We greet you, Mr Bloom."

"That's funny," said Miss Ming, "You don't look Jewish."

Mr Emmanuel Bloom seemed for the moment to have lost interest in them. He stood upon the ramp of his spaceship and stared beyond Argonheart Po's cola lake (still bearing a whisp or two of flame) towards the barren horizon. He shook his head in some despair. "My poor, poor planet. What have they made of it in my absence?"

"Do you think we could go now?" complained Miss Ming to Doctor Volospion and Abu Thaleb. "If you really want to see him again you could tell him where to find you." She had an inspiration. "Or invite him to your party, Abu Thaleb, to make up for what he did to Argonheart's feast!"

"He would be welcome, of course," said the commissar doubtfully.

"His conversation would be refreshing, I think," said Doctor Volospion. He plucked at his ruff and then, with a motion of a ring, disposed of it altogether. He was once again in green and silver, his cap tight about his head, emphasizing the angularity of his white features. "There are many there who would respond rather better than can I to the tone of his pronouncements. Werther de Goethe, for instance, with his special yearning for Sin? Or even Jherek Carnelian, if he is still with us, with his pursuit of the meaning of morality. Or Mongrove, who shares something of his monumental millennialism. Mongrove is back from space, is he not?"

"With his aliens," Abu Thaleb confirmed.

"Well, then, perhaps you should invite him now, courteous commissar?"

"We could tell him that the party was in his honour," suggested Abu Thaleb. "That would please him, don't you think? If we humour him…"

"Can't he hear us?" hissed Miss Ming.

"I think he only listens to us when it interests him to do so," guessed Doctor Volospion. "His mind appears on other things at present."

"This is all very uncomfortable for me," said Mavis Ming, "though I suppose I shouldn't complain. Not that there's a lot of point, because nobody ever listens to little Mavis. It's too much to expect, isn't it. But mark my words, he's going to make trouble for all of us, and especially for me. We shouldn't be wondering about inviting him to parties. We should tell him he's not welcome. We should give him his marching orders. Tell him to leave!"

"It is traditional to welcome all visitors to our world, Miss Ming," said Abu Thaleb. "Even the dullest has something to offer and we, in turn, can often offer sanctuary. This Mr Bloom, while I agree with you he seems a little deluded as to his importance to us, must have had many experiences of interest. He has travelled, he tells us, through time and through space. He has knowledge of numerous different societies. There will be many here who will be glad to meet him. Lord Jagged of Canaria, I am sure —"

"Jagged is gone from us again," said Volospion somewhat sharply. "Fled, some say, back into Time — to avoid disaster."

"Well, there are women, too, who would delight in meeting one so passionate. My Lady Charlotina, Mistress Christia, the Iron Orchid…"

"They're welcome," said Mavis Ming. "More than welcome. Though what any woman would see in the little creep I don't know."

"Once he meets other ladies doubtless his own infatuation for you will subside," said Abu Thaleb encouragingly. "As you say, you are probably the first woman he has seen for many a long year and he has had no opportunity to select from all our many wonderful women one who pleases him even more than you do at present. He is evidently a man of great passion. One might almost call it elephantine in its grandeur."

Miss Ming put her chin on her fist.

There was a bang. Pensively, Mr Bloom had blown up the rest of Werther's mountains. He continued to remain with his hands on his hips, contemplating the distance.

"Miss Ming. As a student of history have you any knowledge of Mr Bloom?" Doctor Volospion came and sat next to her in the howdah.

"None," she said. "Not even a legend. He must be after my time."

"A near-contemporary, I would have thought, judging by his dress."

"He said himself he'd taken on someone else's appearance. Someone he'd admired."

"Ah, yes. Another prophet, do you think?"

"From the 19th century? Who was there? Karl Marx? Nietzsche? Wagner? Maybe he looks a bit like Wagner. No. Someone like that, though. English? It's just not my period, Doctor Volospion. And religion was never my strong subject. The Middle Ages were my own favourite, because people lived such simpler lives, then. I could get quite nostalgic about the Middle Ages, even now. That's probably why I originally started doing history. When I was a little girl you couldn't get me away from all those stories of brave knights and fair ladies. I guess I was like a lot of kids, but I just hung on to that interest until I went to the university, where I got more interested in the politics, well, that was Betty, really, who was the political nut, you know. But she really had some strong ideas about politics — good ideas. She —"

"But you do not recognize Mr Bloom?"

"You couldn't fail to, could you, once you'd seen him? No. Doctor Volospion, can't you send me home on my own? If I had a power ring, even a little one, I could…"

She had hinted to him before that if she were equipped with a power ring or two she would be less of a nuisance to him. Few time travellers, however, were given the rings which tapped the energy of the old cities, certainly not when, like Miss Ming, they were comparative newcomers to the End of Time. As Doctor Volospion had explained to her before, there was a certain discipline of mind — or at least a habit of mind — which had to be learned before they could be used. Also they were not one of the artefacts which could be reproduced at will. There was a relatively limited number of them. Miss Ming had never been quite convinced by Doctor Volospion's arguments against her having her own power ring, but there was little she could do save hope that one day he would relent.

"Regretfully…" He gestured. "Not yet, Miss Ming." It was not clear to which of her suggestions he was referring. She allowed her disappointment to show on her plump face.

"Hm," said Mr Bloom from above, "it is evident that the entire planet will have to be consumed so that, from the ashes, a purer place may prosper."