'Oh, Lady, Kanseen exclaimed. 'Edeard, you've got to see this.

'On my way, he said.

The cellar under the warehouse was one of Ivarl's clandestine stores. Edeard had only taken a fast sweep with his farsight a couple of days earlier for fear of attracting attention. He'd noted the crates, bottles, and sacks piled up in the three vaulting cellars underneath. There were a lot of them.

Macsen and Urarl began opening crates, finding an astonishing array of expensive silverware. Smaller boxes contained jewellery. The sacks held bales of raw drosilk. There were bags of tea and spices from provinces hundreds of miles along the coast. Mottles of fortified wines were stacked to the arching ceilings.

'It's going to take a week to list all this, Urarl said in astonishment. They'd only opened the first few boxes in one cellar.

'Help's on its way, Edeard assured him.

By wonderful coincidence Ronark arrived at the same time as Ivarl. The Jeavons captain led three gondolas carrying accountants from the Guild of Clerks, who had followed Edeard down the Great Major Canal at a leisurely pace. They moored to the slipway at the same time Ivarl came hurtling out of Campden Avenue, out of breath and very very angry.

'I forgot you said you lived around here. Edeard smiled at the gang master. 'How nice to see you again.

Ivarl glared at Edeard, then at the impassive Captain Ronark. His gold-topped cane was raised. He hesitated.

'Is there something we can do for you? Edeard asked as Dinlay and Kanseen carried the first boxes of ingots out of the warehouse. Ivarl's wild-eyed stare switched to the boxes with their precious contents.

'Would you like to retrieve something in here, perhaps? Edeard continued. 'We'll need to see an invoice of course. There are a great many items stored in the cellars. Strangely, the Mayor's port inspectors have no record of them being landed at Makkathran, and consequently no duty being paid. I'm sure the accountants will soon calculate how much is owed on them. Until then they'll be placed in a city store. Perhaps someone will come forward to claim them and pay the tax.

A reluctant grin appeared on Ivarl's face. 'You're good, Waterwalker.

'Just doing my duty.

'But you have to be good the whole time. And good fortune is a fickle thing.

'Yes. I'm sure Tanamin will agree with that. It was two nights earlier when Edeard had listened to the sickening instructions Ivarl had issued to Harawold on the punishment to be given to Tanamin, who hadn't extorted enough money from his patch in Fiacre district.

Ivarl couldn't cover up the flash of surprise in his mind. When he did veil his emotions he was regarding Edeard with the kind of caution reserved for a cornered fastfox. 'Yes. Very good, I see that now. Are you sure you won't accept my hospitality? Together we can accomplish a great deal.

'There's not much to be accomplished from inside the Trampello mines.

'I see. That's a shame.

'Was there anything else?

'No. Not today.

By midday the Ellezelin paramilitary capsules streaking across Colwyn City had all taken to using their sirens, producing a constant doppler-mangled cacophony as they rushed between burgeoning trouble spots. Scarlet and azure laser fans would often sweep through the open balcony doors of Araminta's apartment as another one flew across the park outside, accompanying the discordant sound. Araminta scowled as the dazzling light flared across the kitchen area of the living room once more. She'd been making herself a cup of tea from a kettle, while the old culinary unit strove to fabricate the components of a simple chicken sandwich. She cursed, and kicked the base of the stupid unit as another set of thermal error symbols flashed up on its screen. Perhaps the laser light was disturbing its internal systems?

She sighed and shook her head, annoyed with herself for thinking something so silly. The worst thing was just sitting Around doing nothing. Actually no, it's not knowing what to do.

Another capsule screeched overhead. Araminta slammed down the kettle, and stomped over to the open balcony doorway. The capsule had vanished behind the apartment building by the lime she got there, presumably harassing the people in the park, which seemed to have developed into quite a centre for disobedience against the invaders. She would have liked to slam the doorway shut as well, but the glass wall sheet was formflow, so she had to settle for the glass slowly curtaining together. At least when it had become a single sheet again the sound of the sirens did reduce considerably — as it should with the expensive sound-deadening layer she'd added. The doorway had been open all day to give her some sense of connection to the city. It was kind of stupid, yet comforting at the same time. In fact, all she'd been doing was avoiding thinking about the real events. She'd certainly not done any work on the apartment.

Her u-shadow had pulled a steady stream of news out of the Unisphere, all relating to the Void expansion. There were very few hard facts, and far too much speculation and accusation. But her u-shadow was running an adequate filter, supplying her with the basics. Nothing much had changed. The observation team had evacuated Centurion Station. All the shows were playing the images of the base itself collapsing. Of more interest were the enigmatic DF spheres flying into orbit around the star. Commentators in the news studios were busy speculating on exactly what they were capable of; apparently they'd been copied by the Anomine who used them to imprison the Dyson Pair. Now everyone was hoping that they had more aggressive functions than simple force fields, no matter the gigantic scale.

Despite the loss of Centurion Station, a large number of sensor systems out amid the Wall stars were still operational and feeding their data back to the Commonwealth via the tenuous Navy relay. The Void boundary continued to expand, its surface rippling and distending to engulf the star clusters already falling in towards it. That voraciousness was cited by many as having purpose. Which came back squarely to the Second Dreamer and the Skylord.

After the balcony doors clicked shut she sank to her knees on the bare concrete floor. The tears she'd managed to contain all morning threatened to finally emerge. It's too much. No one person can expect to deal with all of this. I can't have put the entire galaxy in peril. I can't.

Her u-shadow reported a new file shotgunning into the Unisphere, passed between each node without restriction by the management routines and given unlimited access to everybody's interface address. It was a live feed to an address code she didn't recognize, but had Earth as its node host.

'Only ANA can achieve this level of coverage, the u-shadow told her.

'Access it, she ordered. If ANA wanted to talk to everybody it must have some words of comfort.

Gore Burnelli was standing on some rocky cliffs, his back to the clear tropical sea beyond. He wore a simple white shirt, his lair hair tousled by the breeze. Grey eyes stared out of a handsome twenty-year-old face, with skin tanned to a dusky gold. He looked directly at Araminta, making her feel incredibly guilty for no reason she could define.

'I doubt anyone out there in the Greater Commonwealth will remember me, he said. 'But I used to be one of the wealthy people who helped form the original Commonwealth. If you check my record you'll see I had a brief moment of fame in the Starflyer War. I hope that what I've done in the past will qualify me for a moment of your time here now; however, this is not about me. I'm speaking to one person alone: the Second Dreamer. I understand that you didn't realize the Skylord would kick off a devourment phase when you spoke to it. I don't blame you. I don't condemn you. And unlike everyone else I'm certainly not hunting you down. On which front, please be warned it's not just Living Dream that's coming for you, a number of other agents are searching, who represent various political factions both here in ANA and other Greater Commonwealth groups.