There wasn't even a moment of hesitation. 'That was an excellent deduction. I have the file.

Paula examined it. The identity was recorded as one Kent Vernon, a physicist from Salto. Exoimage showed her a face similar to Troblum's, but with ebony skin. 'He darkened his pigmentation considerably, though that face is definitely recognizable. Oh, of course, that name. He is descended from Mark Vernon. She smiled at the memory of Mark, a man really out of his depth, but a thoroughly decent human being. 'And Mark was married to Liz, who was Afro-American. Very neat, she complimented. 'If lacking in imagination. I'm surprised his Accelerator controller allowed that.

'He served a six month tour duty on the Navy Exploration Division science ship Poix fifty-six years ago, ANA reported. 'That particular research mission was concentrating on the inner two lattice spheres. They made some progress mapping tin-integral quantum function. Though the navy project is still ongoing; we still don't quite understand the mechanism behind the Dark Fortress.

'Even you?

'Even me.

'And according to his file "Kent Vernon" subsequently downloaded into you, Paula said as she scanned the exoimage. 'That ties up any loose ends as far as an inconvenient outside investigation is concerned. So let's see what real facts we can find. Her u-shadow called up the records from Troblum's apartment, and Daroca's utilities. Those for the period fifty-six years ago were already deep cached, but they were soon accessed with her authority rating. 'Look at that power consumption rate, she said.

'Nominal, for ten years. Implying Troblum wasn't there. Whatever he was doing took him off Arevalo for a decade.

'What kind of device takes a decade to build?

'His planet-shifting ftl drive has taken longer.

'Yes, but that was his personal obsession, and he was doing it with a minimal MEA budget. What would take the Accelerators ten years, with all their resources? And how is it connected to Dark Fortress technology?

'That was what Troblum wanted to tell you.

'Why didn't he just come straight out with it? she said in annoyance.

'He is a genuine paranoid. Understandably, given the clandestine projects he's been associated with, and under the supervision of Marius. A paranoia which was fully vindicated by events on Sholapur. He has probably left the Commonwealth altogether now. His starship seems quite capable of such a flight, even without ultradrive.

'I'd certainly like to leave, so I can believe that, Paula admitted. 'Unfortunately, wishful thinking is a luxury right now. List everyone who served with Troblum, and mine their history, please; start with his captain.

'The captain of the Poix was Donald Chatfield. A Higher, currently resident on Ganthia.

'All right, I concede this is more pertinent than the lead I have on the Cat. I'll go and interview Chatfield.

'As you wish.

'And you really can't guess what the Accelerators might have built?

'No. According to Gore, they wish to duplicate me and fuse this replica with the Void to initiate post-physical evolution. The systems to initialize another such as myself would be complex, but they wouldn't require any input from the Dark Fortress technology.

'Will that fusion work?

'Who knows?

'Very well, I'll call in as soon as I have something. Paula activated her field interface function, designating her exit coordinate. Earth's T-sphere immediately translated her back up to Sky Pier. As she crossed the reception centre to the station terminus her u-shadow told her Kazimir was calling.

'Bad news, he said.

Paula's heart performed a little flutter. There weren't many people left in the galaxy she cared about, but Justine was one of them. 'Justine?

'No. I have no further information on mother, which as far as I'm concerned is good news… But I am in contact with the Lindau.

'I don't know the ship.

'It's the Navy scout I dispatched to Hanko to monitor the whole Aaron situation for you.

'And?

'They don't have the best sensors in the fleet, but there's something wrong with the planet.

'Wrong in what way?

'Its gravity. We believe someone has fired a Hawking m-sink into it.

'Oh Christ. No! Why would they do that? It's a dead planet anyway.

'The Restoration project base at Jajaani has stopped broadcasting. Lindau is still picking up some of the project's surface beacons, so it looks as if the base itself was targeted.

'But an m-sink? That's a monstrous overkill. We know those ships were ultradrive, they'll be equipped with weapons powerful enough to take out an undefended civilian base.

'I don't know the reason, I'm just reporting the results. Naturally, there's no sign of either ultradrive ship.

'Naturally.

'However—

'Ah! Yes?

'The Lindau has also picked up a very powerful distress signal from the surface. It's a standard biononic emission. Nobody listed as a member of the Restoration team was Higher.

'So it's either Aaron, or Inigo himself.

'Yes. Which leaves me with a rather painful decision. With an m-sink eating away at its core, that planet isn't going to last much longer. The Lindau estimates a few hours more at best before the mantle starts to readjust prior to implosion, at which point nothing is going to survive. So, do they land at Jajaani and see if there are any survivors?

'No, she said immediately. 'They have to recover whoever is sending that signal with biononics.

'One person.

'If the m-sink hit at Jajaani, there will be nothing to recover from there, not even bodies, and certainly not any secure memory stores. Everyone working in Restoration projects knows there are risks, they all have back up memories and DNA samples on their homeworld. They will be re-lifed. If there is the slightest chance that survivor is Inigo, or can tell us where Inigo is, then you have to rescue them.

'I was thinking along those lines myself, but it's always satisfying to receive your endorsement. I'll speak with the captain, and keep you updated.

'Kazimir.

'Yes?

'Warn them to take extreme precautions. If it is Aaron down on the surface, there's no telling what he'll do.

'I know. I'll emphasise the need for caution.

Paula drew a deep breath, and gazed down through the transparent hull section of Sky Pier's reception centre. Bordeaux was spread out below the station, lush and beautiful in the lazy sunlight. She'd visited a few times when the vineyards were still producing their renown wine, and the remaining citizens stubbornly resisted the advances which the Commonwealth provided. Something about the area and its culture had made her feel comfortable and welcome, satisfying that deep human yearning for a simple life, a fundamental which had never been sequenced out of her psyche by her creators. She wondered what its long-departed people would make of today's life with all its associated bizarre problems. Somehow she suspected they'd be less than impressed.

Looking down on the region again, a small part of her wanted to just teleport down there and settle in one of the remaining homes. Cut off communication, deactivate her biononics; leaving her far away from Kazimir and Aaron and Marius and the Cat, and all the rest of it. Supposedly, there were several primitive groups on Earth, living as their ancestors had two thousand years ago. ANA always denied it, but rumours persisted. Not this time, though, she decided. So she walked into the terminus with its glowing Cherenkov light from the wormhole which led back to Orleans. From there another wormhole connected directly to Arevalo. By the time she got back to Daroca spaceport, the Alexis Denken would have been resupplied, and the medical chamber replaced. The starship would be ready to fly her onwards. Again.