The Mellanie’s Redemption stayed above Viotia because it was as good a place as any to wait. After his futile attempt to analyze the Sol barrier, he even managed to catch up on some sleep. Time was spent on reviewing the starship’s basic systems, getting up to date on maintenance procedures, fabricating some replacement components in the small high-level onboard replicator. There were also a great many files his u-shadow acquired for him from the unisphere, information and entertainment that would make a life of exile in another galaxy more bearable.

When the SI’s icon appeared, Troblum didn’t authorize the link at once. First of all, he was busy. And then … the last couple of weeks had eased him into a state of acceptance. He knew he was leaving; it was simply a question of timing now, and he didn’t really even have to make that decision. The Void’s final expansion phase would begin, and he would leave. It was that simple.

The SI, though, would bring complications back into his life.

“I know you,” Catriona Saleeb said. “Not knowing what it wanted to tell you will eat you up. And it’s being polite. It could have forced its way into the ship’s link with the unisphere.”

“Yes.” Troblum sighed. He canceled the blueprints in his exovision display and looked down at the micromanipulator he was using. Underneath its transparent dome, the clean-environment unit contained a scattering of newly replicated components that he was slowly assembling into a solido projector. He’d obtained enough base programs to construct a reasonable I-sentient personality. It would be himself, he’d decided, a younger, physically fitter version that would be able to share Catriona’s bed. He’d redesigned the sensory correlations with his own biononics so that they were a lot higher than a standard version, allowing him to enjoy the experience to the full. Incorporating those customizations took time. By itself, it was an intriguing problem to solve, one that had absorbed his intellect for several days. It was almost like becoming multiple. Catriona had said she was looking forward to it as well.

His u-shadow opened the link.

“I have an interesting development to report,” the SI said.

“What?”

“Oscar Monroe has just received a secure call from someone at Bovey’s Bathing and Culinaryware. That’s a macrostore in the Groby touchdown mall in Colwyn City.”

“So?”

“The originator claims to be Araminta. The link was established through a one time code which Oscar issued. Nobody else knew about it except him and the person it was given to.”

“And you. So any decent e-head could find it.”

“I only know about it because I’m monitoring all the links going in and out of Oscar’s hidden starship. Once I’d intercepted it, cracking the code was tough even for me. It would be beyond most e-heads in the Commonwealth.”

Troblum frowned at the tiny electronic components inside the micromanipulator case glittering like so many diamonds. “But it can’t be from Araminta.” His u-shadow had put the Pilgrimage departure into a peripheral exovision image; he could see the Pilgrimage fleet on Ellezelin. They had finally finished their chaotic embarkation. Several live feeds were showing Araminta standing on the observation deck of the Lady’s Light. “She’s in the flagship. They’re about to launch.”

“Exactly. So why is a onetime code given to her personally by Oscar being activated from Colwyn City?”

“I don’t understand.” It did make the puzzle of why she’d defected to Living Dream more absorbing. Troblum liked puzzles. Not that it changed anything. “What did they say?”

“Nothing much. She asked Oscar to meet her in a restaurant on Daryad Avenue in fifteen minutes.”

“But …” Troblum pulled the news feeds to center. The protective force fields over the construction yard were powering down, leaving the skies wide open for the colossal ships to launch. “She’s on board the Lady’s Light. I’m accessing the feed right now.”

“Yes. So either she’s bringing the entire Pilgrimage fleet to Viotia for a quick visit, or there’s something else going on.”

“What?”

“Are you taking an interest, Troblum? Are you considering contacting Oscar now?”

“I’m not talking to him. For all I know, this is some trick of yours.”

“If it is, it’s a little late in the day.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I’m infiltrating nodes inside the restaurant. Oscar’s team is running checks to provide cover for their man. They’re good, but I can elude them. Would you like to observe the meeting?”

Troblum closed his eyes. Images from the starship’s sensors showed him Viotia as a vast intrusion within spacetime’s gravity field. The planet was only a hundred thousand kilometers away, although the SI didn’t know that. Or perhaps it does.

The fear and worry that had ebbed away slowly over the last week suddenly resurged, elevating his heart rate. Tiny beads of sweat oozed out of his pores, chilling his skin. Biononics smoothly countered the physiological aspects, but they couldn’t quell his anxious thoughts. He couldn’t begin to guess what was going on. I don’t understand people, fuck it. Why is Araminta doing this? Why is she trying to kill the galaxy? Why is she calling Oscar? And he must know she won’t be meeting him.

“You said Oscar’s people are checking out the restaurant?”

“Yes. Two of them are physically deploying to cover the building. He’s already on his way.”

“But he knows where Araminta is; he knows she won’t be there. It must be a trap, yet he’s going into it.”

“A trap set by who? And why? And why now? No weapon in the galaxy can stop the Pilgrimage ships; we know that. Your Commonwealth Navy can’t break through the force fields Ilanthe has provided, nor can the warrior Raiel.”

“Are you saying it isn’t a trap?”

“I’m telling you what’s happening and offering to share.”

“Why? Why do you want to involve me?”

“To finally achieve what I’ve so often wrongly been accused of doing: influencing the outcome of human affairs. We must have more options ranged against Living Dream and Ilanthe. And the Cat, of course. You may yet be able to play a true part, Troblum. Do you want that?”

He looked across the cabin at Catriona, who was bestowing him with that worshipful look again. He put his head in his hands. She’s not real. Nothing I have is real. With biononics amplifying his strength, he suddenly thumped his fist down on top of the micromanipulator unit. It made a dull thudding sound, and some of the tiny components jittered around inside. His fist rose again. This time his biononics added a weapons pattern to the impact. The dome shattered, and the delicate little mechanisms inside were crushed beyond salvation. Electronic components scattered across the decking, ruined by both the violence and the air that contaminated their flimsy molecular structure.

“Show me,” he told the SI. “And who is Bovey?”

“Come alone.” Araminta had been insistent about that.

Oscar appreciated the sentiment, but … Some things were just too big to leave to goodwill and pleasantries. He took a table in the middle of Andrew Rice’s restaurant at the bottom of Daryad Avenue, an ancient (by Viotia standards) wood-and-carbon-paneled building barely a mile from the docks where Elvin’s Payback still sat in the warehouse, overlooked and unnoticed by the managers trying to restore order to the docks. There weren’t many people; the windows had just been replaced after having been smashed. Oscar was sure it should have had more tables, too; the remaining ones were certainly spaced unusually far apart. Perhaps some had been looted. Who loots a table?

A human waiter came over to take his order, and he asked for a salad. He rather liked the look of the enormous steak and kidney pies a couple of blokes were eating at a corner table, but he’d only just finished his tea and twister. It had taken less than ten minutes to walk to Rice’s from the Elvin’s Payback, which was cause for mild suspicion. Did Araminta know their location? It was hard to see how.