'It's a long shopping list,' admitted the Doctor.

Roz looked across at Leabie, deep in conversation with Walid.

'I can't help but wonder...'

'What things might have been like if you'd stayed home?'

She nodded. 'Something's going on here. Leabie's not telling me about it, but you can see the web of power forming and reforming... Doctor, there's going to be war.'

'And you think you could have prevented that.'

'Possibly,' said Roz. 'On the other hand, maybe I'd be the one running it.'

'You've accomplished a lot since leaving,' said the Doctor.

'First as an Adjudicator, then with me. None of that work would have been done if you'd stayed here and tried to '

' shift the weight?'

He nodded.

'We're getting old, Doctor,' said Roz, with a wry smile. She waved at a waiter. 'Two extremely large and strong drinks, please.'

Midnight.

There was movement in the palace. More than the nocturnal activities of the servants, answering late-night calls, performing maintenance. Movement in the shadows where the lights were blinking off, one by one, and the cameras were dying.

A dozen murders happened in the s.p.a.ce of ten minutes. The security systems quietly crashed. A servant brought an initial report to Leabie in her boardroom, where she was still in conversation with the Duke. Chris snored. The Doctor and Roz were sitting in his room, talking politics, when the lights suddenly went out.

220.

Thandiwe screamed as the door to her bedroom shattered into pieces. A man stood in the doorway, peering inside with a weird bobbing movement of his head that made her think of the sims of vultures in her moving picture books. Her throat seemed to lock right up as the head swayed from side to side and then fixed in her direction.

The man came forward, his eyes locking on her. Thandiwe realized she couldn't make a sound. This was really happening.

A monster chewed through the roof of Somezi's bedroom and ripped him open before he even woke up.

Another smashed down the door of Leabie's boardroom.

'Again!' shouted Walid, pumping fifty rapid rounds from his personal plasma thrower into it.

Mantsebo tried to ward off the creature that had killed her bodyguard, s.n.a.t.c.hing up the man's laser weapon, but her aim was wide.

Security responded within minutes to contain the threat. But within minutes, a dozen Forresters had died.

Ostensibly Thandiwe's Fat Monster Eater was the same mid-range cybernetic comforter recommended ages one to four years as twenty-three per cent of the Empire's human population had owned as children.

Essentially it was a big floppy sphere slightly over a metre in diameter covered in short dirt-resistant fur. Its mouth had been designed using the latest kinderpsyche profiling to be large dough to give small children just the right frisson of fear when it opened all the way without scaring them witless.

Inside, the Fat Monster Eater was filled with a foam comprising billions of tiny bubbles a few millimetres across, each one containing its own heating element, actuator and pinbrain.

The actuators moved the bubbles around in concert to create facial expressions and interesting and playful lumps on its body; the heating elements varied the temperature within the bubbles to allow the Fat Monster Eater to achieve buoyancy at average room temperature and float around a child's bedroom in an amusing fashion.

221.

Right now the Fat Monster Eater was not amusing. Right now its big saggy mouth was wrapped around the head and shoulders of the monster that had come to kill Thandiwe.

She was screaming and screaming, a tiny, shrill sound, scrunched up on her bed while she hit the emergency b.u.t.ton over and over.

The distorted creature was struggling for its life, one arm caught inside the Fat Monster Eater's maw, the other raking at its bulk with metallic claws. It turned from side to side, trying to shake the toy loose or smash it against a wall. But the Eater had no single brain, no organs to damage. It clung on to its victim like a factory-standard Fat Monster Eater oughtn't to, slowly sucking more and more of the creature's body inside its own.

Security had taken over a minute to respond, almost overwhelmed by the distorted creatures in the corridor outside.

They saw Thandiwe on her bed, still screaming. They saw the Fat Monster Eater engulf its victim to the knees, its body stretched as far as it would go, foam pouring from its wounds, its baggy shape slowly slackening.

Everyone around her had simply gone to pieces. Roz forced her feelings down into a tiny corner of her being and concentrated on what needed to be done.

There was nothing to do. Security was tight, the threat was over, there was a pile of monster corpses in the central compound. There was nothing to do but pick up the pieces, the pieces everyone had gone to. Stay cool, you're needed.

She stood in the boardroom, where the surviving heads of security had gathered. They'd already rounded up every member of staff with a psi rating six were left alive and sent them home. Rumour had it they'd been shot, but Roz had watched them board a shuttle, bewildered and terrified.

Roz shifted her position slightly. She was holding Leabie, who was weeping uncontrollably, babbling in !Xhosa and tearing at Roz's clothes.

Chris was in another room, bouncing Thandiwe on his knee, telling her silly jokes. No one had told her clearly what had happened yet, why her mummy was so upset or why a monster 222 had come into her room. She wanted another Fat Monster Eater.

Everyone promised her one. Chris had been pale as the proverbial ghost, somehow managing to smile at the little girl.

Gugwani had been completely out of control with grief and terror. Both of her bodyguards had been killed by a man with four arms ending in mouths. Reinforcements had arrived a moment before the biting started.

And the Doctor sat on the bench at the window of Leabie's boardroom, head propped up in his hand, staring out at the surface of the moon. Completely still. Ignoring anyone who spoke to him. Of all of them, he was the one who worried Roz the most.

Duke Walid was standing nearby, looking as though he was desperate for something to do, someone to shoot. His clothes were torn, his dark hair in disarray, and Leabie's personal physician was fussing over a deep gash in his arm. Security's counterstrike had almost been a few seconds late for him. He'd saved Leabie's life.

'Who's behind this?' said the Duke, bewildered. 'Who has the power to create these monsters out of innocent people?'

Roz looked at him pleadingly, and he walked up to her, taking Leabie from her grasp. Thank you, Thank you, she mouthed. she mouthed.

'I'll see she's put to bed safely,' said the Duke. 'Come along, Leabie. There's nothing more we can do tonight.' He gestured to the physician, and they helped the devastated woman out of the room.

Roz watched her go. It was as though the grief had reduced her to nothing, just a wailing woman like anyone in a crowd, anyone in a news sim.

Roz sat down next to the Doctor. He didn't look at her. After a minute she realized he wasn't blinking, his eyes fixed on the landscape. She didn't know if he was even aware she was there.

It p.i.s.sed her off. What the h.e.l.l did he have to be shaken up about? He hadn't known Somezi and Mantsebo as babies. It wasn't his home the horror had invaded, his sister having hysterics in the next room.

223.

She leant against the gla.s.s, closing her eyes for a moment, suddenly aware of how tired she was. She'd come home, and she'd brought the monsters with her.

'They were after me,' he said.

Roz's eyes snapped open. She'd almost fallen asleep. 'What?'

'They wanted me. Instead, they killed Leabie's children.'

'That can't be right,' said Roz. 'That doesn't make sense.'

'And what am I going to do about it?' said the Doctor. 'What am I going to do?'

'Nothing,' said Roz. 'You're wrong. This wasn't about you.

This was an attack on the family. No, you are are going to do something.' going to do something.'

'What am I going to do?' said the Doctor.

'You're going to help me find out who was behind this.'

224.

Meanwhile Mont Blanc, Europe, 17 July 2982 Duke Geoffrey Armand looked up at the Alps. Naked of trees, naked of snow. Barren. Waiting for the time when the pines would once again march up the valleys and the winters would be soft and white. Waiting the way he was waiting.

Armand was tall and handsome, very aristocratic-looking, dark-skinned and curly-haired, and it wasn't a bepple. He came from some of the best stock. The High Sheriff had come from his family for three generations.

He had walked five kilometres along the valley floor, beside a crisp and freezing stream. His estate was a ten-kilometre-wide strip of preserved land, although some of the mountains had needed repairs after a local war in 2547. It was a shame the water wasn't safe to drink. He sat down on a rock, wiping the sweat from his brow.

In the distance, his personal home was a vast structure, built into the side of a mountain. A beautiful wooden structure that looked out over the valley. The bulk of the house was inside the mountain, including the family archives and a survival unit that could handle a nuclear strike.

His harem were fighting again. He'd left the servants with strict instructions to prevent any physical violence, and walked out of the house, not even telling security where he was going.

225.

You'd think they'd show him a little respect. He kept them in luxury they could go wherever they liked, do whatever they wanted. They didn't even have to sleep with him. You'd think they'd listen when he shouted at them to shut up. Maybe they'd show him a little more respect. Soon. When his plans came to fruition.

His personal secretary would be in a complete flap by now; Armand had given him the slip. After an hour's walking, he was reasonably sure he wasn't being followed. There'd be a search party soon, though.

He got up again, stretching, noticing the ache in his thighs, just over each knee. He really ought to get more exercise.

'Greetings Duke Geoffrey Howard Armand of Europe, Lord High Sheriff of Earth,' said a dozen voices.

Armand looked around. There was a woman standing not ten feet away. She had delicate cheekbones and large, dark eyes, but he could see trained muscles under the sleeves of her white jacket. Her face was utterly blank.

'I speak for the Brotherhood,' said the woman. He could hear one voice twelve voices a hundred voices echoes at the edge of his consciousness.

'For the Grandmaster,' he said.

'Yes. I have been sent to inform you. The attack was partly successful but the objective was not achieved. Further plans are in progress.'

'Not achieved!' Armand stood up, poking his finger into the woman's face. As he'd expected, she didn't react. 'Not achieved!

Do you realize how much danger we're in because you bungled that attack! I want full details sent to me immediately.'

'That will be done when the situation becomes clear,' said the woman.

'We should attack,' said Armand. 'An outright attack while they're at they're weakest. The Council are in turmoil. Walid and Leabie are hurt even if they're not dead. It's time I did something positive.'

The woman held up a hand. 'The war must remain in the shadows for now, Duke Geoffrey Armand of Europe.'

226.

'When do I get a say in this?' said Armand. 'When do all the promises come true? I've helped you from day one when is it my turn?'

'You are the channel through which our plans flow, just as I am the channel through which the leadership speaks. When you are Emperor you will speak for us.'

'When I'm the Emperor,' said Armand.

'Yes.'

'And when will that be? How close is it, now?'

'Very close. There will be further information and instructions soon. Return to your house. Wait for our messages.'

Armand sighed. 'All right. You know what you're doing. All right.'

He turned to go back. 'Wait a minute,' he said. 'What about '

But she'd gone. He looked around. Teleportation? Telepathic invisibility? 'Ah, cruk it,' he said.

He headed back for the house. The first thing he was going to do when he was the Emperor was get himself a new harem.

227.

4.

Europe Kuleya had been watching them for half an hour. Either they hadn't noticed her, or they were very, very good at not letting on they knew they were under surveillance. But then, a fourteen-year-old girl by herself, trying on hats, doesn't look that strange or threatening. Which was, of course, the whole reason to give her the mission in the first place.

She'd picked up some bits and pieces from the two humans'

surface thoughts. The shopping trip was a deliberate attempt to attract attention. A desperate last bid, thought Kuleya. She hadn't dared to probe further, in case she alerted them.

The three of them had gone to ground after the attack on Kibero. Some very serious searching had been done, but they'd been almost invisible for a month. Traces here and there suggested they were investigating the boss. Which was as it should be. But the fact they hadn't taken any action suggested they weren't getting very far with the search. Which was as it should be.

And then, one hour ago, Roz Forrester had used her newly created family credit account to buy a jacket.

Kuleya had started her search in the tailor's, following the faint trace of memories through the crowds and shops, each brain softly being asked, Have you seen these people? Have you seen these people? It hadn't taken long. It hadn't taken long.

228.

Now she had to decide between acting right away and waiting, making doubly sure they weren't aware of her presence. Of course, the longer she waited, the greater the chance of discovery.