“Thank you very much,” Michael said. He took the card, read it, and his eyes widened. He passed it to Geraint without comment.

“I take the lady separately from you gentlemen?” the woman asked, clearly a little puzzled to find them all crammed together in the same room.

“Perhaps you can measure me and my wife,” Serrin suggested, seeing that Michael obviously wanted to discuss whatever was on the card. The two of them left with Lucrezia for their own bedroom.

“Please be in the square at midnight, when a most interesting event will take place,” Michael read aloud for Streak’s benefit.

“Signed by one ‘Salai’,” Geraint said, looking over his friend’s shoulder.

“Very neat. He was the closest to what might be called an apprentice of Leonardo’s. Traveled with him for many years. As I recall, he was something of an asshole. According to the history books, that is.”

“That seems about right,” Geraint said with feeling. “So this is when he makes another move. The question is what we do until then,” Michael said.

“Whatever it is. it’s got to communicate with our target,” Geraint said.

“That means something public.”

“Post a message on the BBS?”

“That would be logical. I suppose. What do we say?”

“ ‘Mona Lisa wishes to meet Leonardo’?” Streak suggested. “Thats the kind of thing I usually browse.”

“I’m sure it is,” Michael said disapprovingly, “but I hardly think-”

“Maybe it’s not so totally off the wall,” Geraint said. “I mean, it probably should be something like that. It’s got to be jokey, I think. That damnable farce out in the square was supposed to be some kind of entertainment.”

They started to throw ideas around without really getting anywhere, and it was almost a relief when Lucrezia arrived with her catalogue and measuring tape. She dealt with the elf last.

“Watch that inside leg, Signora,” Streak said slyly. “I’m a red-blooded elf in my prime.”

Grinning, not taking offense, she slapped him playfully in the ear. The elf reeled back, a shrill singing tone ringing inside his head.

“Frag me, missus, I wouldn’t want to argue with you for real!” he complained and became as meek as a lamb, politely accepting the costume she suggested for him.

When Lucrezia left, Geraint and Michael burst into the laughter they’d been choking back after the elf’s chastisement.

“Serves you right. I warned you,” Michael sniggered.

“Rakk it, what a right hook,” Streak said as Serrin and Kristen rejoined them.

“Everything gets delivered after lunch,” Serrin said. “What happened to you?” He peered at the elf’s deep red ear.

“Nothing,” Streak mumbled.

“Our Lucrezia disciplined him for being a cheeky bugger,” Michael told Serrin with a smirk. “He’s going to be awfully well behaved for a while.”

“Right.” Serrin grinned. “Now what about business?” They told him what they’d been discussing, then picked up the thread where they’d left off.

“It needs to be something more pointed,” Serrin said. “Oh, by the way, here’s that thing we saw in the square.” He opened the book at the appropriate page and showed them the design for the military machine, which did indeed look extraordinarily like a primitive First World War tank.

“I wonder if we might not try something like asking Salai to attend a supper,” Serrin said. “And maybe call it ‘Mary’s supper’ ”

“You’re thinking of the painting in the square,” Michael said.

“Yes. I’m convinced that the Magdalene is actually the subject of that picture. It’s so obvious when you really look at it.”

“It’s certainly not what it appears to be,” Michael agreed.

“And if we included a line from that apocalyptic essay by Leonardo, the one about the floods, for good measure, we’d show that we understood more now than maybe our man thinks we do.”

“It’s worth a try” Geraint offered.

“We need to post it on as many BBSes as we can and leave a drop,” Michael said. “We can’t know if he’ll be monitoring, but-”

“Surely he must be. If what he does for fun is wipe his traces clean from the Doge’s system, routine BBS scanning ought to be pretty simple,” Geraint said.

Michael sat down with his deck. “Okay. Consider it done. I’ll leave Smithers to plant it.”

“Smithers? Who the frag is Smithers?” Streak demanded.

“One of his frames,” Geraint told him. “This one does the routine clerk stuff so he calls it Smithers.”

“Don’t ask about Tracey,” Serrin said.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Streak replied. “What a weird bloke he is.”

“I won’t take that to heart,” Michael said cheerfully. “Better than being boring, eh?”

It took less than a minute to post the message they finally composed, make the nominal payment transfer, and arrange the email drop. Now all they could do was sit back and wait.

“Now what?” Streak was becoming restless, agitated because he was still feeling the adrenaline rush that shooting people always gave him.

“Apart from this I’m not sure that’s much else we can do. We know something’s going to happen in the square tonight, so-”

Michael’s words were interrupted by a signal from his deck that Smithers had observed and located a reply to his posting. Eagerly, he downloaded it.

“Slot, that was fast,” he said. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” They all crowded around.

“ ‘Your understanding is superior to what we had expected. We look forward very much to further developments. Yours respectfully, Salin.’ Hmm.”

“Respect, indeed,” Geraint growled.

“Don’t be touchy,” Michael said. “look, he’s pleased with us.”

Are you a toy poodle or something?”

“It seems to imply that we’re being invited to get closer to him. ‘Further developments’.”

“We should post a reply to his reply,” Serrin suggested.

“Good idea, but what?”

“The flood. That apocalyptic flood.” For some reason, the idea suggested itself to him. “Thats so final. I think that’s a key, somehow. Maybe it’s just because he’s been here and been doing weird stuff with the canals, I don’t know. Let’s post a chunk about the flood. Maybe ask if it can be averted.”

“All right.” Michael settled to work with Serrin’s book open at the right page of text.

Again the reply came back within minutes. Michael read it aloud.

“ ‘Salai and his master congratulate you on making an intuitive leap that is beyond your understanding at this time, and express their admiration. They respectfully suggest no further communications are necessary at this time. Wail until midnight,’ Well, thank you, gentlemen.”

“Midnight tonight doesn’t leave us much time,” Geraint said.

“Look, we’ve got our channels open now, he knows about us and he’s said we understand some stuff. We’ll have to live with that for now.”

“It’s the best part of twelve hours until midnight in the square. What do we do until them?” Streak was pacing up and down the room now.

“Look, when Juan and Xavier get here, why don’t you take off and get some exercise?” Geraint told him. “I can see you need it.”

“Yeah, okay, I’m just getting a bit stir-crazy. Too much banging around and I start to seize up,” the elf said with a grin.

Right on cue, a loud knock at the door announced the arrival of the samurai pair. Streak opened it to find them already kitted out in full carnival regalia. The gold masks made them look even more sinister than usual.

“Ludicrous” Juan snarled. “But it covers the arms up.”

“Juan mate, good to have you on board again. And Xavier, my man,” Streak greeted them. “We’ve already had some unfriendly fire this morning.”

“Great” the ork said, cheered up no end. “Just tell me who we’re here to kill.”

Kristen sighed. Serrin Look her by the hand, off to their own room.

“Bleeding hearts,” Xavier growled.

“Disgraceful, ain’t it? And it was her they shot at,” Streak informed the troll, obviously somewhat embarrassed of the company he was keeping these days. “Anyway, guys, I need some fresh air. I wanna take off for an hour.”