An explosion of anger from inside the room snapped him back to reality.

'He said what? The dirty sc.u.mmy slug!'

'I know, I know.' Forrester's voice was world-weary. 'But the shift supervisor's a fraggin' alien-lover. Me, I get caught in the middle. Do us both a favour: show me the stain. If I say it's still there, then we've got grounds to get rid of the slug. Nothing but a troublemaker, that one.'

Powerless Friendless shifted slightly beside Cwej, and frowned.

'It's all right,' Cwej said soothingly. 'She doesn't mean it.'

'I suspect she does,' Bernice said softly.

There was a scuffle of movement inside the room, then the guard said, 'There, look at it. What kind of job do you call that?'

'Hmm.' Forrester was silent for a moment, then she said, 'Hey, look at this.'

'What?'

'No, down here.'

'Where?'

'Look, right down here . . . '

Cwej risked a look around the edge of the door. The guard was kneeling down, his eyes a few inches from the floor and Forrester's pointing finger.

Forrester looked up at the doorway, saw Cwej and nodded towards the nape of the guard's neck. A few quiet steps brought Cwej up behind the kneeling man's back.

'Can't see nothing,' the guard said.

'What about this?' Forrester said as Cwej's hand sliced through the air, impacting on the guard's temple with a meaty chunk chunk! He shook his head slowly, and tried to turn around. By the time his eyes locked with Cwej's, there was n.o.body home. He slumped gracelessly to the floor.

'Brilliant,' Bernice said as she and Powerless Friendless entered the room.

'If ever I want some heavy hitting done, I'll be in touch.'

'Thanks,' Cwej said, pleased at the unexpected praise. He looked around, taking in the details of the room for the first time. Apart from a desk and chair on one side and a metal vault door and a window set into the far wall, the 180room was empty. Like Powerless Friendless had said, the window showed a view across to the next block, but the door in the wall next to it was security rated. He moved across and looked out of the window. It was no simcord, that was for sure.

Bernice walked across his side and stared at the vault door. As far as Cwej could see it was made of solid alutrium. A small but sophisticated security lock on the desk presumably controlled access to whatever lay beyond.

'I don't suppose . . . ' Bernice started to say, then looked back at Forrester, Cwej and Powerless Friendless. 'No,' she finished, 'I don't suppose any of you do.'

'Wait a moment,' the Hith said, and slid forward. 'I think I might be able to help.'

'You?' Forrester said. 'How?'

Powerless Friendless's eyestalks rotated to look at her. 'Krohg,' he said. 'My pet. He's good with locks.' He started rummaging around in his rucksack.

'This isn't just a lock,' Bernice said. 'It's a computer-controlled access system. No budgie, however smart, is going to get in.'

'He's very clever,' Powerless Friendless said, still rummaging. 'But I can't seem to '

'He's here,' Cwej said, reaching into his pocket and closing his hand around the small, soft form of the creature named Krohg. At Forrester and Powerless Friendless's accusing glares, he shrugged and said, 'Well, he's cute.'

'Cute?' Forrester said. 'Cwej, you're sick.'.

Cwej tickled the little orange creature under the chin at least, he a.s.sumed it was the chin and handed it to Powerless Friendless. The Hith slithered across to the desk and placed Krogh against the access panel, murmuring something to it as he did so. The little creature flattened itself against the keys, and quivered slightly.

'We're wasting time,' Forrester said. 'We need to get through that door, and this isn't doing us any '

With a beep and a faint rumble of machinery, the door opened.

'I don't believe it,' Forrester murmured.

Cwej rushed across and picked Krohg up before Powerless Friendless could retrieve it.

'Well done,' he said. Turning to Bernice he said, 'Don't you think that was well done?'

She didn't answer. She was just staring through the opening that the vault door had revealed. A strange grey light was playing across her face.

Cwej turned to follow her gaze. Through the doorway, a catwalk extended for a hundred or so metres. At the end of the catwalk was a s.p.a.cecraft of a strange design, rounded and spiked, like some alien insect. Everything else 181through the opening apart from the catwalk and the ship was a pearly, shifting grey that looked as if it was simultaneously infinitely distant and close enough to touch.

'Isn't that . . . ?' Cwej started to say, but Bernice beat him to it.

'Yes,' she said quietly, 'it's hypers.p.a.ce.'

182.

Chapter 13.

'I'm Shythe Shahid and this is The Empire Today The Empire Today , on the spot, on , on the spot, on and off the Earth. Reports from the Imperial Palace in orbit around and off the Earth. Reports from the Imperial Palace in orbit around Saturn suggest the Empress is on the verge of imposing martial law Saturn suggest the Empress is on the verge of imposing martial law in selected Overcity areas in an attempt to contain the rioting that is in selected Overcity areas in an attempt to contain the rioting that is slowly but surely eating its way like a cancer across the heart of the slowly but surely eating its way like a cancer across the heart of the Empire. The first measure to be announced will almost certainly be a Empire. The first measure to be announced will almost certainly be a curfew, with death as the penalty for non-compliance. Meanwhile, it curfew, with death as the penalty for non-compliance. Meanwhile, it is rumoured that Professor Zebulon Pryce, noted scientist and ma.s.s is rumoured that Professor Zebulon Pryce, noted scientist and ma.s.s murderer, has escaped from the Landsknechte Penal Inst.i.tution on murderer, has escaped from the Landsknechte Penal Inst.i.tution on Dis. We go live now to . . . ' Dis. We go live now to . . . '

The Doctor's eyebrows rose in surprise and amus.e.m.e.nt, partly at what Hater Of Humans had said and partly at Provost-Major Beltempest's openmouthed astonishment.

'You've built an encampment on Purgatory Purgatory?' he said.

Hater Of Humans nodded.

'Before terraforming Hithis,' it said, 'the Landsknechte preserved a portion of its surface and transplanted it to their own world. They did this not in remembrance of our planet, but as a trophy, and as an example of territory on which their tactics had been tested, and found to be lacking.' Hater Of Humans sighed heavily. 'It was all that was left of Hithis as we remembered it. After the War, some Hith were allowed to take menial jobs on Purgatory.

Dedicated agents managed to work out a way to disable the Landsknechte's sensors. Our ships can slip in and out of Landsknecht s.p.a.ce at will, without being detected. This encampment was built for myself and the Hith government in exile. Our agents cleaners for the most part alert us if an exercise is to be carried out, and we pack up the tents and leave the planet for the duration. Given the number of planetary environments on Purgatory, it happens very rarely.'

Beltempest was making spluttering noises through his trunk.

'Good for you,' the Doctor said, grinning. 'I can, however, appreciate your desire to regain your own world, and presumably your plan is to use this sample of Hithis as a template with which to "Hithisform" your own world again.' As Hater Of Humans nodded, he continued: 'I do, however, have a question concerning this lost ship of yours.'

183.Hater Of Humans sighed. 'Yes, human?'

'I'm not . . . Oh, never mind. What was so special about it? How exactly did icaron technology help you to construct a better warship?'

Hater Of Humans shrugged. 'I am not a technician,' it said loftily, 'I am a ruler.'

The Doctor scowled. 'Indulge me. What can you remember?'

The guard started forward, but Hater Of Humans waved her back with a languid pseudo-limb.

'My advisors informed me,' it continued, 'that the main problem with our warships was the immense power they need to generate in order to enter . . .

hypers.p.a.ce? and thus move between the stars. With so much power dedicated to that task, there was less to use for weaponry and manoeuvring in ordinary s.p.a.ce. It seemed at the time a plausible argument.'

'So?'

'Somehow,' Hater Of Humans said, 'icarons helped solve this problem. I know not how. My only interest was in preventing the Earth Empire from raping our glorious planet. I would have grasped at any pa.s.sing opportunity.'

The Doctor turned to Professor Pryce, whose eyes were closed and whose body was relaxed. 'Professor? Perhaps you can help us out here.'

Pryce's eyes opened slowly, and he turned his black gaze on the Doctor.

'Icarons are elementary particles that exist in their rest state in hypers.p.a.ce,'

he whispered. 'As their energy levels increase, they slip from hypers.p.a.ce into the real universe. In this regard they are the opposite of normal matter, which requires energy to take it from the real universe into hypers.p.a.ce. It is that extra energy, over and above the rest-state energy of particles of normal matter, that makes them so dangerous to the human mind.' He smiled slightly. 'You appreciate that I use the term "real" with some distaste. Nothing is real. All is illusion.'

'And so,' the Doctor added, 'by building a s.p.a.ceship around a low-energy icaron particle accelerator, you ensure that it actually prefers being in hypers.p.a.ce which is, if you like, its natural habitat. The low-energy icarons act as an anchor in hypers.p.a.ce, whereas, if they are given energy, they pull it into real s.p.a.ce. Most of its power can then be diverted to weapons and manoeu-vrability.' He raised his eyebrows as the implications of the thought unrolled before him In a strange sort of way, the Hith had done with a s.p.a.ceship what the Time Lords had done with a time craft. After all, TARDISes 'lived' in the time vortex, and only emerged into reality under protest and with much encouragement.

Beside him, Provost-Major Beltempest caught his breath. 'Incredible,' he said. 'A ship like that could have changed the course of the war if it hadn't been captured!'

184.Hater Of Humans shifted in its seat. Beside it, Hopeless Itinerant curled a pseudo-limb around the vestigial sh.e.l.l at the base of its tail and yanked hard.

'You have no idea how pleased I am to hear it,' Hater Of Humans murmured over Hopeless Itinerant's squeal. 'But you distract me.' It turned to Pryce.

'Professor Pryce, where is is our ship? Where is the our ship? Where is the Skel'Ske Skel'Ske?'

Pryce shook his head.

'I do not know,' he said simply.

'But . . . ?' Hater Of Humans jerked upright in its seat. The guard grabbed for her gun.

'After my mind was opened to higher possibilities,' Pryce whispered, low and compulsively, 'after the sacrament of pain and degradation was revealed to me, the Imperial Landsknechte took your ship away. I believe it was given to an independent company with experience in subatomic particles. They were contracted to take it apart, on the basis that they could patent any spin-off technology. I don't know which company it was.' He smiled. 'By then, I was past caring about such mundane things as finance. Only death interested me.

Death, and the prolonging of the moment of death, the stretching of pain until it became like a fine, taut wire that, when plucked, rang out in a scream of pure agony.'

Pryce closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. All eyes and eyestalks turned from him to Provost-Major Beltempest.

'Don't look at me,' he protested. 'Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you.' He turned to look at the Doctor.

'Who would be likely to get such a contract?' the Doctor said.

'Doctor, I will not discuss cla.s.sified information with aliens!'

The Doctor removed a gold Hunter watch from his waistcoat pocket and opened the face. As Beltempest, Pryce and Hater Of Humans watched, fascinated, he counted off ten seconds, then put the watch away.

'Based upon my earlier calculations in your laboratory,' he said, 'fifteen people have just gone mad on Earth as a result of the release of icaron radiation from the Skel'Ske Skel'Ske. How many more will you allow to die? What proportion of humanity will have to be sacrificed before you change your mind? Who knows what the effects will be on the Empire? We have to make them realize the dangers of dealing with icarons!'

Beltempest took a deep breath. 'You have an unerring knack of reducing everything to a simple choice between two unpleasant alternatives,' he said through clenched teeth. 'If I wanted robotic workers for something, I would choose INITEC. Their experience in cybernetics and robotics is unparalleled.'

'INITEC?' the Doctor queried. 'I thought I'd come across most of the major corporations in my time, but that's a new one on me.'

'It stands for Interstellar Nanoatomic ITEC,' Beltempest replied.

185.'If I knew what ITEC stood for it might help,' grumbled the Doctor.

Beltempest sighed. 'Where have you been? ITEC is an acronym for Independent Terran Empire Corporation.'

A bit like the words 'limited' or 'incorporated' back in the time of his exile on Earth, the Doctor reflected. Interstellar Nanoatomic ITEC. Something about that name caused a shiver to run up his spine. Not the name itself, but its component parts. He'd heard them before, in a different order, and not in a pleasant context.

'Interstellar Nanoatomic ITEC is the only major corporation whose head-quarters are still on Earth,' Beltempest continued as the Doctor rolled various alternatives around in his mind 'Every other one has moved to the outer Rim planets, but INITEC stayed. Their building is in s.p.a.ceport Five Overcity, but '

Now that that name rang a bell, as Quasimodo once said. name rang a bell, as Quasimodo once said.

's.p.a.ceport Five Overcity,' the Doctor said grimly. 'The area of Earth that everybody who went mad had pa.s.sed through, if you remember our calculations on Purgatory.'

It fell to Beltempest to sum up what they were all thinking All except Pryce, whose thoughts were of a colour and texture that n.o.body else could understand.

'So the Skel'Ske Skel'Ske is on Earth,' Beltempest whispered, 'and the radiation from its engines is driving people mad.' is on Earth,' Beltempest whispered, 'and the radiation from its engines is driving people mad.'

The null-grav lift shaft was only large enough to carry one normal-sized person, and Viscount Henson Farlander, aide-in-chief to the Empress, could feel its curved walls sc.r.a.ping his sides. He rose gently away from the vast ball-room with its teeming flocks of the aristocracy toward the Imperial Presence.

The walls were cold cold enough that ice was forming on them and he tried his best to pull his flesh away to avoid blisters. Still, it was a miracle of engineering. Not six inches away was the hard, cold vacuum of s.p.a.ce. Here in the shaft it was just a trifle uncomfortable.

The shaft deposited him at the base of the spherical Imperial Throne Room.

He looked around, stunned as always by the view. The transparisteel walls were polished so well that he couldn't even see them. All that he could see was Saturn's majestic bulk, and the rainbow of its rings arcing away from him, front and back, as if the Imperial Throne Room were a transparent bubble sliding gracefully along an endless road of ice.

The Divine Empress's naked body hovered above him: a warty excrescence of flesh with stumps for limbs, bloated by the incurable, inoperable tumours and diseases of extreme old age. Thin wires haloed her asymmetric head, leading to the machines that boosted her intelligence and sent it flying across s.p.a.ce. She had ruled for so long that generations had lived and died without 186realizing that she was centcomp; that she was the controlling intelligence that ran the solar system. And yet . . . and yet . . .

There were some problems that even she couldn't solve.

'NEWS?' her voice boomed. Farlander knew that only a fraction of her attention was directed at him. The rest was shunting information for hundreds of trillions of people across billions of miles.

'Most Supreme and Puissant Majesty . . . ' Farlander began in his most humble voice.

'NEWS?'