"You think the Aprahanti could — "

"Not the Aprahanti. From what you said, they didn't break moorage till after the gunfight, when the Rider moon started screaming about us. Whoever's behind this is independent of the Butterflies, and must be spread in very small numbers across many star systems — a vast set of tripwires, listening for things of interest. They noticed us, and weak as their outpost was they tried to grab our ship. Only when we were getting away did they advertise us. One way or another, they didn't want us to get away." He jerked a hand at the ultratrace window. "If I read that right, we've got more than five hundred ships on our tail."

Ravna's eyes flicked to the display and back. Her voice was abstracted, "Yes. That's part of the main Aprahanti fleet and… "

"There will be lots more, only they won't all be Butterflies."

"… what are you saying then? Why would Skroderiders wish us ill? A conspiracy is senseless. They've never had a nation state, much less an interstellar empire."

Pham nodded. "Just peaceful settlements — like that shepherd moon -in polyspecific civilizations all across the Beyond." His voice softened. "No, Rav, the Skroderiders are not the real enemy here… it's the thing behind them. The Straumli Perversion."

Incredulous silence, but he noticed how tightly Blueshell held his fronds now. That one knew.

"It's the only explanation, Ravna. Greenstalk really was our friend, and loyal. My guess is that only a small minority of the Riders are under the Perversion's control. When Greenstalk fell in with them she was converted too."

"T-that's impossible! This is the Middle of the Beyond, Pham. Greenstalk had courage, stubbornness. No brainwashing could have changed her so quickly." A frightened desperation had come into her eyes. One explanation or another, some terrible thing must be true.

And I'm still here, alive and talking. A datum for godshatter; maybe there was yet a chance! He spoke almost as the understanding hit him. "Greenstalk was loyal, yet she was totally converted in seconds. It wasn't just a perversion of her skrode, or some drug. It was as if both Rider and skrode had been designed from the beginning to respond." He looked across at Blueshell, trying to gauge his reaction to what he would say next. "The Riders have awaited their creator a long time. Their race is very old, far older than anyone except the senescent. They're everywhere, but in small numbers, always practical and peaceful. And somewhere in the beginning — a few billion years ago — their precursors were trapped in an evolutionary cul-de-sac. Their creator built the first skrodes, and made the first Riders. Now I think we know the who and the why.

"Yes, yes. I know there have been other upliftings. What's marvelous about this one is how stable it turned out to be. The greater skrodes are 'tradition' Blueshell says, but that's a word I apply to cultures and to much shorter time scales. The greater skrodes of today are identical to ones a billion years ago. And they are devices that can be made anywhere in the Beyond… yet the design is clearly High Beyond or Transcendent." That had been one of his earliest humiliations about the Beyond. He had looked at the design diagram — dissections really — of skrodes. On the outside, the thing was a mechanical device, with moving parts even. And the text claimed that the whole thing would be made with the simplest of factories, scarcely more than what existed in some places in the Slow Zone. And yet the electronics was a seemingly random mass of components, without any trace of hierarchical design or modularity. It worked, and far more efficiently than something designed by human-equivalent minds, but repair and debugging — of the cyber component — was out of the question. "No one in the Beyond understands all the potentials of skrodes, much less the adaptations forced on their Riders. Isn't that so, Blueshell?"

The Rider clapped his fronds hard against his central stalk. Again a furious rattling. It was something Pham had never seen before. Rage? Terror? Blueshell's voder voice was distorted with nonlinearities: "You ask? You ask? It's monstrous to ask me to help you in this — " the voice skeetered into high frequencies and he stood mute, his body shivering.

Pham of the Qeng Ho felt a stab of shame. The other knew and understood

… and deserved better than this. The Riders must be destroyed, but they should not have to listen to his judging. His hand swept toward the communications cutoff, stopped. No. This is your last chance to observe the Perversion's… work.

Ravna's glance snapped back and forth between human and Skroderider, and he could tell that she understood. Her face had the same stricken look as when she learned about Sjandra Kei. "You're saying the Perversion made the original skrodes."

"And modified the Riders too. It was long ago, and certainly not the same instance of the Perversion that the Straumers created, but…"

The "Blight", that was the other common name for the Perversion, and closer to Old One's view. For all the Perversion's transcendence, its life style was more similar to a disease than anything else. Maybe that had helped to fool Old One. But now Pham could see: the Blight lived in pieces, across extraordinary reaches of time. It hid in archives, waiting for ideal conditions. And it had created helpers for its blooming…

He looked at Ravna, and suddenly realized a little more. "You've had thirty hours to think about this, Rav. You saw the record from my suit. Surely you must have guessed some of this."

Her gaze dropped from his. "A little," she finally said. At least she was no longer denying.

"You know what we have to do," he said softly. Now that he understood what must be done, the godshatter eased its grip. Its will would be done.

"What is that?" said Ravna, as if she didn't know.

"Two things: Post this to the Net."

"Who would believe?" The Net of a Million Lies.

"Enough would. Once they look, most folk will be able to see the truth here… and take the proper action."

Ravna shook her head. "No," barely audible.

"The Net must be told, Ravna. We've discovered something that could save a thousand worlds. This is the Blight's hidden edge," at least in the Middle and Low Beyond.

She just shook her head again. "But screaming this truth would itself kill billions."

"In honest defense!" He bounced slowly toward the ceiling, pushed himself back toward the deck.

There were tears in her eyes now. "These are exactly the arguments used to kill m-my family, my worlds… A-and I will not be part of it."

"But the claims are true this time!"

"I've had enough of pogroms, Pham."

Gentle toughness… and almost unbelievable. "You would make this decision yourself, Rav? We know something that others — leaders wiser than either of us — should be free to decide upon. You would keep them from making that choice?"

She hesitated, and for an instant Pham thought the civilized rule-follower in her would bring her around. But then her chin came up, "Yes, Pham. I would deny them the choice."

He made a noncommittal noise and drifted back toward the command console. No point in talking to her about what else must be done.

"And Pham, we will not kill Blueshell and Greenstalk."

"There's no choice, Rav." His hands played with the touch controls. "Greenstalk was perverted; we have no idea how much of that survived the destruction of her skrode, or how long it will be before Blueshell goes bad. We can't take them along, or let them go free."

Ravna drifted sideways, her eyes fixed on his hands. "B-Be careful who you kill, Pham," she said softly. "As you say, I've had thirty hours to think about my decisions, thirty hours to think about yours."

"So." Pham raised his hands from the controls. Rage (godshatter?) chased briefly through this mind. Ravna, Ravna, Ravna, a voice saying goodbye inside his head. Then all became very cold. He had been so afraid that the Riders had perverted the ship. Instead, this stupid fool had acted for them, voluntarily. He drifted slowly toward her. Almost unthinking, he held his arm and hand at combat ready. "How do you intend to prevent me from doing what has to be done?" But he already guessed.