'So we can get through?

'We can just walk out until they seal that up with their troops, yes. Even then there are various tunnels available if you know the right people. My u-shadow will send the files over for you. Anyway, the point is: some friends and I are chartering a starship. We're leaving completely, not just Colwyn but Viotia itself. There's a seat on it for you if you want, I'm holding it as part of our family's block booking.

'Urn… but Mr Bovey?

'Darling, you'd need five starships to get all of hims off. Be realistic. And be sensible. In times like this you have to think about your own arse.

'But they're not letting anyone out of the city, let alone offplanet.

'You leave that to us. Anybody who believes Living Dream is some kind of irresistible force has clearly forgotten about lawyers. We're chartering a foreign-owned starship with full diplomatic status. If Phelim tries restricting that he'll find himself staring down a Commonwealth Navy warship disruptor cannon. Let's see who blinks first then.

'I see.

'So are you in or out?

'I… I don't know.

'There's one thing, darling, which I'm going to have to bring up. It won't be cheap. Where do you stand on selling the apartments?

'Oh. Not good. I still don't have deposits on the last two, and I haven't completed any of the others. Nobody's going to buy anything now.

'Yes, that is a problem. You didn't find that offload sucker like I told you then? Never mind. You should never underestimate the market when it comes to making things happen for a profit. Give it a day and there'll be venture groups on half the External worlds offering Viotia citizens cash for their business and properties; it'll be way below yesterday's market rate, but they'll be thinking long term. Once Living Dream grabs the Second Dreamer things will start to stabilize. Give it twenty years and everything will be back to normal, and those properties will be five times the value.

'If it's going to be normal again, why are you leaving?

'Normal for a Free Trade Zone hagiocracy planet, darling. Which I have no intention of spending the rest of my lives on, thank you very much. I want a nice liberal market-based democracy with all the opportunities for misunderstanding and conflict that entails. Wherever there's an argument you'll find us lawyers offering to help. And help equals lots of money. On which subject; I've already transferred my cash accounts offworld.

'Already?

'Certainly, darling; the banks were keen to welcome me. And I wasn't exactly the first. There's enough money flying offplanet right now to leave our beloved Prime Minister a magnificent economic nightmare by lunchtime, never mind tomorrow. The only thing she has left to worry about is how painful her bodyloss is going to be when her previously loyal voters get their hands on her. So — do you want me to see if I can offload your apartments for you? I have some finance seeker semisentients I can assign the problem to.

'Urn, yes. Yes, I suppose so.

'Great, so I'll reserve that ticket for you.

'Yes. Do that. Araminta just said it without thinking. She didn't want to leave, but Cressida had to be placated somehow, and anything else might be suspicious. Ozzie, it didn't take me long to become a paranoid schemer, did it?

'Don't worry, Cressida said. 'Ten days from now we'll be sipping cocktails on the pool terrace of La Cinal on Etinna. It'll be fun, a new beginning.

The call ended, and Araminta stared at the semi-decorated open-plan living room in a mild daze. She couldn't believe that even Cressida could abandon her whole life with such casual ease. But then that was Cressida for you, thinking faster and smarter than anyone else. She'd probably run through the whole shock, anger, assessment, calculation, and action stages in the first hour; while Araminta was still firmly mired in the shock segment. Certainly she'd never thought what life on Viotia would be like after things settled down; and of course Cressida was right, they would be part of the Free Trade Zone for ever now. Unless the Senate and Navy intervened, or Viotia's residents organized a rebellion.

Or the Void devours us.

Whatever the future outcome, Cressida was right about one thing, Araminta couldn't just wait around hoping to avoid detection. She started to think what it must cost politically and economically to invade a planet. Cleric Conservator Ethan and his sidekick Phelim wouldn't do that and then just hope they'd stumble across the Second Dreamer. They'd have a plan. And it would be a good one.

Araminta forced herself to get to her feet. She didn't know what she was going to do, but doing nothing was not an option.

It took two hours, and a stint in the ship's medical chamber, but Troblum eventually stopped shaking. When he emerged he could barely manage to cover the couple of metres from the chamber to his big chair. He sank into its padding, fearful he would start trembling again. The medical read out in his exovision showed him just how many drugs were coursing through his bloodstream right now, working in conjunction with his biononics to suppress his body's animal reactions. He had been terrified.

He was also rather surprised that he was still alive. All he could remember of the neutron laser shot was a dazzling flash, and a noise that was so great his bones had felt it rather than his ears. His biononics were still repairing his retinas and inner ears. How he staggered into the ship's airlock was some kind of miracle; the smartcore had to give him directions, telling him how to move every limb.

But he was alive, and almost intact. The smartcore had used sensors to follow the Cat's starship flying away from the villa, then vanishing. Her stealth systems were as good as his own if not better. He hadn't waited around to find out how good Paula's ship was, he'd simply stealthed up and dropped into hyperdrive. Now he was sitting in transdimensional suspension ten lightyears out from Sholapur.

'You were lucky, Catriona Saleeb said.

'I know. He glanced at the single item of his collection to survive. Mellanie Rescorai's handheld array lay on the decking where he'd dropped it. The foxory casing was blackened round the edges, the outline of his hand clearly visible. He closed his eyes and turned his head, making sure he was looking up at the ceiling before he opened his eyelids again. All of it, gone. The entire collection. Destroyed by his own hand. Every unique significant piece. It was as if history itself had been weakened.

'You won't be again, Trisha Halgarth said, twirling a strand of Catriona's hair round her index finger as she nestled up against her friend. 'I'm surprised the Cat didn't finish you off.

'I'm not, Catriona said. 'She's going to come after you, Troblum. She's going to catch you. And then you'll die. It'll probably take several years.

'Shut up! he yelled. 'Shut up. Support me.

'Okay, Catriona said, she cuddled Trisha. 'You're not safe as long as the Cat is around.

'And Paula didn't kill her off, Trisha said, sounding vaguely puzzled. 'So you've got two options left.

'Two? he queried.

'Go after her yourself, and finish the job.

'No! That's not an option. Only Paula can do that. She's still the only one I trust. I can't believe ANA is so compromised. That's got to be down to flaws in the Unisphere which a Faction can manipulate.

'Think on it, Catriona said earnestly. 'The Cat is allied with the Accelerators, they gave her everything she wanted, ship, weapons, the lot; and somehow she knew where you'd be. You can't trust ANA, not any more. I certainly don't, she added haughtily.

'It has to be the Unisphere, he said, more to himself than the girls. 'They intercepted my message.

'Which only makes your position worse, Trisha said. 'That leaves option two. Run! Run far and run fast. We've got to make it to another galaxy. Mellanie's Redemption can do it. You'll be safe there.