Remembrance glanced up as another Bandati dropped down from the war-dirigible's gondola, then skittered to a hard landing nearby.

Remembrance immediately recognized 'Scent of Honeydew, Distant Rumble of Summer Storms', and greeted him with a formal snap of his own wings.

'I see you're familiarizing yourself with the mountain wildlife,' Honeydew clicked, picking himself up and approaching. 'Strange-looking critters, even to me. And I was born here.'

'I've seen stranger,' Remembrance replied. 'You got the message, then?'

Like Remembrance of Things Past, Honeydew wore a weapons harness fastened around his upper body, crossing over twice diagonally from each shoulder to opposite waist. The harness featured several sealed pockets and loops holding a shotgun and a smaller pistol, the former secured sideways across the back below the wing-muscles and the latter to one side at the front.

Honeydew was Chief of Security for Darkwater, and had been partnered with Remembrance for the duration of a long cross-Hive investigation into Alexander Bourdain's smuggling activities.

Honeydew nodded towards the cave entrance. 'Who gave you authorization for this raid?'

'I didn't request any,' Remembrance replied immediately. 'It takes too long.'

Honeydew's wings twitched in annoyance. 'And just how sure are you that Bourdain is in there?'

'Very sure indeed.'

'You should know there's a storm of s.h.i.t going on down there because of your actions.' Honeydew waved towards the city far below. 'First you track Bourdain on your own time without telling me, then call in a raid you don't have the authorization for. All this without providing any evidence that Bourdain is even still on Iron-bloom at all. Do you have any idea how much trouble you're going to be in if you've got this wrong? We're talking a major diplomatic incident with yourself firmly in the spotlight.'

'I appreciate the warning,' Remembrance replied drily, watching as Honeydew's wings twitched yet more angrily.

'All right, it's your call, then,' Honeydew finally relented. 'The security services for two Hives trying to track down one single human together couldn't find him, but you you track him down all on your own. So tell me, how did you do it?' track him down all on your own. So tell me, how did you do it?'

I infiltrated your own Hive's internal security databases, Remembrance almost confessed, Remembrance almost confessed, and found everything I needed in the last place I expected. and found everything I needed in the last place I expected. There were levels of corruption within Immortal Light's administration that even he couldn't have antic.i.p.ated. There were levels of corruption within Immortal Light's administration that even he couldn't have antic.i.p.ated.

'Look, we can talk about this later,' Remembrance parried. 'I have the direct authority of my own Queen, and that's enough. You know from my reputation that I'd never call in a raid without extraordinarily good reasons.'

Honeydew looked less than convinced. 'You still don't have the jurisdiction to go pulling stunts like this. I'd rather-'

'Listen, someone somewhere inside your Hive has been keeping Bourdain under cover and well out of sight. That's exactly how he's been staying ahead of us. And that that means somebody on the inside of your own security service is working against you,' Remembrance continued patiently. 'If I'd done things the usual way the means somebody on the inside of your own security service is working against you,' Remembrance continued patiently. 'If I'd done things the usual way the approved approved way we'd have lost him again, so I called in a raid using my own authority-' way we'd have lost him again, so I called in a raid using my own authority-'

And didn't bother to tell me until it was already under way?'

'-since your chain of command is compromised, as I just explained. So here's what we do: we go in now, grab Bourdain -and then maybe we'll have the last link in the smuggling chain.'

Honeydew buzzed his wings in indecision. 'If he isn't there, you'll be at the mercy of our Hive, and even your precious Queen of Darkening Skies won't be able to do a d.a.m.n thing to help you.'

'Let's just get this over with,' Remembrance snapped, 'and save the threats until later, okay?' He reached up and pulled his shotgun loose, then held it close against his chest. Honeydew fixed his gaze on the shotgun barrel for a moment, then drew his own. 'You are aware, I hope, of the precise nature of the establishment we're about to enter?'

Remembrance of Things Past glanced towards the cave entrance. Apart from the polished stone floor of the ledge beyond, little had been done to alter its natural appearance: just a rough-edged, eight-metre-tall crack in the side of the mountain, wide enough at its base for several Bandati to enter side by side.

Uncultivated wild scrub grew on the rising slopes above the cave entrance, immediately over which an enormous sign of glowing multicoloured tubes had been constructed: a crude animation of monstrous jaws alternately opening and closing on a crowd of helpless but clearly human diners.

'It's a public eating establishment,' Remembrance replied, with a world-weariness that spoke of a lifetime of having seen all too much. 'A restaurant, restaurant, as the human vernacular has it.' as the human vernacular has it.'

Such public consumption of food was taboo within the Bandati culture, and only the most offensively perverted of their species gathered together in order to practise it. Remembrance had become aware that the restaurant's human owners were discreetly servicing an exclusive Bandati clientele that greatly valued their privacy.

'I've raided places like this before, Honeydew.' He glanced up at the sign above the cave entrance. 'Mind you, actually advertising it this way . . . that's got to be a slap in the face for common decency, hasn't it?'

'It's called The Maw,' Honeydew explained.

Remembrance stared back at him in incomprehension.

'It's become quite famous,' Honeydew continued. 'The owners are proponents of what they call "extreme dining".' Raising his shotgun for a moment, he added, 'Believe me, it's not the place to start a fire-fight.'

All I know about it is that it's a place of public eating, designed for other species.'

'By my Queen's sphincter, all this time on Ironbloom and you don't. . .' Honey dew's wings flickered in exasperation. 'Listen, the restaurant is a living organism, a maul-worm. Its body extends deep inside the caves that riddle the mountainside. It adheres very closely to the curves and contours of those caves. The inside of a maul-worm is basically a miniature ecosystem in its own right, and dozens of other species have taken up residence there. For the most part, the worms live a long time. They hardly ever move unless provoked, and they reproduce maybe once a century. The restaurant is located inside inside the worm and, if Bourdain is really here, that's where you and I need to go too.' the worm and, if Bourdain is really here, that's where you and I need to go too.'

'Bourdain,' Remembrance echoed, 'inside a monster's gullet?'

'A monster which, if provoked, will rapidly close up and consume every living thing currently inside it,' Honeydew concluded. 'Which means anyone and everything entering it has to do so extremely slowly, quietly and carefully'

Remembrance glanced towards the mounted gun turrets, once he realized Honeydew was not, in fact, joking. He suddenly understood the real reason for the defences.

'The turrets . . . ?'

'One grenade tossed just outside the entrance would be enough to trigger a deadly gustatory reaction,' Honeydew affirmed. 'You can sometimes see the creature's internal gullet-tentacles s.n.a.t.c.hing at the smaller organisms it plays host to. Not,' Honeydew added hastily, 'that this has ever presented a problem to larger-bodied organisms such as ourselves. The artillery is there to safeguard it from attack.'

Suspicion, mixed with horror, bloomed in Remembrance's mind. 'So you've gone in there before?'

'Don't start making any accusations. Yes, my work means I've had to deal with the human owners here. They have to provide us with rea.s.surance that they won't admit any Bandati clientele.'

'They're lying, then.'

'Of course they are. They're aliens, aliens, and their ways are not ours. But I know this mountain well younger Bandati still like to blimp up here just to jump from the highest points, and then try and free- fall all the way down to the city.' Honey dew spoke with undisguised nostalgia. 'All extremely dangerous, of course.' and their ways are not ours. But I know this mountain well younger Bandati still like to blimp up here just to jump from the highest points, and then try and free- fall all the way down to the city.' Honey dew spoke with undisguised nostalgia. 'All extremely dangerous, of course.'

They started moving in the direction of the cave entrance. Honeydew's own security squad had already secured the gun platforms, and twitched their wings in greeting as they drew nearer.

'Any other fascinating little tidbits I should know?' asked Remembrance.

'Just be aware that it's very, very very easy to upset a maul-worm.' easy to upset a maul-worm.'

Moist, warm air filtered out through the mouth of the cave before getting drawn back in. 'And what if Bourdain resists arrest?' Remembrance asked in an appalled tone. 'Just give up because this . . . worm worm might eat us? What kind of lunatic would ever enter such a place?' might eat us? What kind of lunatic would ever enter such a place?'

'Someone with a distinctly jaded palate, I should say. You really might have avoided all this if you'd just let us know what you were up to.'

The cave's interior was unpleasantly warm and dank. 'There's no other way out of here, am I right?'

Honeydew merely nodded in affirmation.

'Then he'll risk death by resisting arrest. Frankly, I can think of a lot of ways I'd rather go.'

'Maybe he would rather die than be taken back to the Consortium.'

'Bourdain?' Remembrance clicked in amus.e.m.e.nt. 'That's unlikely. I've dealt with him in the past, and I know he's not nearly that brave.'

Remembrance had indeed spent some time undercover on Bourdain's Rock, posing as a black marketeer. He'd managed to gather d.a.m.ning evidence but then the Rock itself had been destroyed, along with much of his evidence, and Bourdain himself had fled to Bandati-controlled s.p.a.ce.

'Yet brave enough to set foot in here.'

'Bravery doesn't come into it. I've been in human establishments called mog parlours that aren't so different. They're the kind of places where the clientele never talk about what or who they've seen and heard. If we were ever going to track down Bourdain, it was always going to be in someplace like this.'

They had paused for a few moments before properly entering, but now, as if by some unspoken mutual decision, they walked determinedly further inside the cave. Remembrance let Honey dew take the lead, having been here before. The very thought gave him a pang of disgust, even though he knew the security agent must have had perfectly legitimate reasons for doing so.

As Remembrance brushed against something soft, there was a squeak and several small, pale, winged bodies batted past him in squawking confusion. He looked up and around in the deepening gloom and spied dozens of pairs of tiny, glowing eyes winking all around them. He then turned and looked behind him to see the cave entrance was now visible only as a pale oval of light, and seemed impossibly far away.

He fluttered his wings experimentally and the sound of them returned to him eerily from distant unseen walls. His eyes, however, were beginning to adjust, so he could now see pale, leafy growths twined around extendable metal poles ahead, reaching upwards into murky gloom. There were more poles looming further into the darkness ahead.

They soon approached a thick, rubbery ridge that ran across the cave floor directly in front of them, immediately before the first of the line of poles. The ridge continued up the cave walls on either side of them before presumably meeting far overhead, at some point Remembrance couldn't discern in the gloom.

Beyond this low ridge, the walls and floor of the cave took on a smooth, organic texture, and were coloured a pale milky-grey. At this point, closer inspection revealed a series of stubby cones running in two parallel lines and continuing all the way up either side of the cave.

It took a moment for Remembrance to register that these were teeth.

'In case you were wondering,' Honeydew commented, 'those poles are to help prop its mouth open.'

'And if the worm decided to close it?'

'Then they wouldn't make much difference, I'm afraid, as they're there for show more than anything a way of rea.s.suring the clientele.'

I am entering the gullet of a monster, Remembrance thought, then firmly suppressed the terror that had begun to grow in him the farther they got away from the light of day. Remembrance thought, then firmly suppressed the terror that had begun to grow in him the farther they got away from the light of day.

I am Remembrance of Things Past, Queen's Consort, and Most Favoured of the Court of Darkening Skies. Therefore I will not succ.u.mb to base panic.

The delicious scent of rotting meat, carried on a slow exhalation of warm air, made him suddenly feel hungry despite his disquiet.

They pa.s.sed over and beyond the stubby rows of teeth and, further inside, Remembrance could see how closely the flesh of the maul-worm adhered to the interior surface wall of the cave. Light was provided by a series of glow-globes atop yet more metal poles reaching up to just under the ceiling of the maul-worm's gullet, while others still had been placed in special recesses along the many turns and twists of the cave pa.s.sage, in order to better illuminate their path. Shadows grew to ma.s.sive proportions, before shrinking just as quickly, as small, unidentifiable creatures constantly darted through this artificial light.

Remembrance glanced down at the soft, moist surface upon which he and Honey dew trod. I am walking on something's tongue, I am walking on something's tongue, he reflected. he reflected. I am walking deeper into something's throat, I am- I am walking deeper into something's throat, I am- He slammed down on this train of thought and concentrated instead on what lay ahead. Honeydew moved on blithely, apparently unaware of Remembrance's growing agitation, though Remembrance knew that in reality the Immortal Light agent was keeping a close eye on him.

They came eventually to a vast interior s.p.a.ce so different from the innocuous mountainside behind them that they might as well have arrived on another world entirely. More glow-globes, positioned far overhead, cast light across the pale ridged flesh of the worm's innards. Directly in front of the two Bandati was a low platform, on which stood a couple of dining tables with chairs, the nearest of which was unoccupied. The air was filled with music: soft, rhythmic, ambient Bandati throat-clicks that echoed throughout the cavernous s.p.a.ce.

'You know, Bourdain might have friends here, friends we don't expect,' Honeydew mentioned casually, glancing around. 'Perhaps we should pull back, and wait him out. I could set some of my personal security team to-'

Remembrance tugged his companion to a halt. 'Is there some reason you don't want to be here, or are you just determined to get in my way?'

'I'm just telling you that you have n.o.body but yourself to blame if things turn out badly. You broke the rules, Remembrance, and there's a good reason those rules are in place.'

'I take full responsibility for whatever happens.' Remembrance then spotted the food-preparation area, a brightly lit cl.u.s.ter of cooking facilities at the far end of the platform, partly hidden behind several folding screens, which were also used to divide the platform into more intimate sections.

'Does anyone in here have any idea what's going on outside?' Remembrance asked, peering into the unsettling darkness that extended beyond the platform, even deeper within the worm's gullet.

'I don't think so, as we're blocking any and all transmissions in or out of this place, and we've only just arrived. Besides, it doesn't sound like anyone's panicking yet, does it?'

Remembrance heard some distinctive Bandati clicking noises from somewhere nearby, and the sound of sizzling accompanied by the aroma of human cuisine. The smell of it made him queasy. 'Not yet, no.'

He moved tangentially until he was able to see past a folding screen to where some cloud-cow carca.s.ses had been artfully laid out on a ring-shaped table, from the centre of which rose a column perhaps five metres in height. Unaware that royal agents were presently observing them, several Bandati clung to the column. Remembrance stared in horror as one of them extended a long, proboscis-like tongue into the sweet-smelling offal. He looked away, unable to bear the sight, and filled with disgust at witnessing such a private and degrading activity.

Unsurprisingly, the area reserved for the restaurant's human clientele was positioned as far away from the Bandati customers as possible, and several more folding screens shielded them from view. From where he now stood, Remembrance couldn't see whether Bourdain or indeed anyone else was seated on the far side of those screens.

A small, pale-winged creature came gliding past one of the glow-globes just as Remembrance saw something long and tendrillike reach down from the dimly seen ceiling like a fleshy whip. It s.n.a.t.c.hed the winged creature, which suddenly disappeared upwards with a frenzied squeak.

A moment later he heard the snapping of bones, and the squeaking terminated.

A human with a mask pulled down over his mouth and nose emerged from behind the screens concealing the kitchen area, and began pushing a barrow towards the Bandati hanging from their perches around the central pillar. The wheel of the barrow was heavily padded, and the man pushing it was proceeding remarkably slowly, and with entirely understandable care. Even so, the barrow b.u.mped up and down noticeably as it rolled across the widely-s.p.a.ced slats of the platform, exposed sections of the monster's gullet visible in-between.

Another human, wearing a multicoloured floor-length gown, his long hair fashionably braided and coiled in the style of the Martyrs of the Io Rebellion, came tiptoeing out from behind the same kitchen screens, wringing his hands in a gesture of extreme concern. Slowly and carefully, he began to make his way towards Remembrance and Honeydew.

'Victor Charette,' Honeydew quietly clicked in Remembrance's ear. 'He's the manager here.'

'Who would want to manage a place like this?'

'Someone who will retire rich from his efforts on behalf of the restaurant's owners,' Honeydew clicked in response. 'Of whom Alexander Bourdain is one,' he added. 'I've dealt with Charette before, so I'm going to have to ask you to keep your interpreter switched off while I talk to him. He's not going to tell us anything if he thinks you're listening in.'

In fact, Charette ignored Remembrance altogether, focusing his attention on Honeydew. Remembrance watched as the Immortal Light agent activated his interpreter, the tiny, bead-like device hovering close to his mouth-parts changing from green to a softly glowing blue to indicate when it was active.

Human speech was still a mystery to Remembrance, largely because - in common with all other members of his species he was physically incapable of speaking it. Human body language, however, was another matter altogether. That Charette was currently under stress was clear enough, and it was also obvious that he and Honeydew were acquainted.

Remembrance had already spent long, frustrating months on Ironbloom, finding his every attempt at locating Alexander Bourdain thwarted by bureaucracy and misinformation. It hadn't taken long to develop an overwhelming suspicion that someone was helping Bourdain stay always one step ahead of him. And if Bourdain knew he was being chased, it was only a matter of time before he would board a convenient coreship out of the Night's End system.

And to allow such a thing to happen would be to fail in his duty to his Queen.

And so, as Charette gestured animatedly and waggled his thick, meaty tongue and rubbery wet lips at Honeydew, Remembrance reached up and quietly switched on his own interpreter while their attention was still turned away from him.

As Honeydew spoke, his clicks were translated into an approximation of human speech. The bead was a field-suspended device that tracked the user's movements, always maintaining a set distance. Sound didn't carry very far in the soft and moist environment of the maul-worm's gullet, but it wasn't hard to guess why Honey-dew didn't want Remembrance listening in.

'. . . your voice down,' Honey dew was saying, 'unless you're really in a mood to become a worm snack.'

'You told me we were safe from raids!' Charette snapped in a half-choked whisper. 'And now you come in here armed. armed. Tell me, what do you think will happen if those soldiers of yours come blundering in here? We'll all die. You, me, them everyone. Or do you just want to kill us Tell me, what do you think will happen if those soldiers of yours come blundering in here? We'll all die. You, me, them everyone. Or do you just want to kill us all all?'

'We want you to evacuate slowly, and carefully, and do it now,' said Remembrance. The Immortal Light agent glanced at him sharply, but Remembrance ignored him. 'We're only interested in Alexander Bourdain. So is he here?'

'I don't think either of you know what you're getting into,' Charette replied by way of an answer. 'I-'

Sometimes, Remembrance had found, the best approach with members of the species h.o.m.o sapiens was the direct one. He reached down and took a firm, hard grip on Charette's reproductive organs through the thin cloth of his gown. It was an approach, experience had taught him, that could generate remarkable levels of compliance.

'We're only here for Bourdain,' Remembrance repeated, as Charette gasped and began to crumple. 'Clear everyone out. I don't care what kind of arrangement you have with Honey dew or Immortal Light, just get them out except for Bourdain. Now.'

A choked sound emerged from Charette's soft, pale throat. Remembrance twisted harder, and a moment later the restaurant manager was down on all fours on the sticky mat of the maul-worm's tongue.

Remembrance stepped back, noticing the rest of the kitchen staff all human staring towards them in shock.

'I meant now,' now,' Remembrance repeated. 'Or I start asking very public questions about why some of your clientele appear to be Bandati. I'm a.s.suming you're aware of the punishment you would be facing if that became public?' Remembrance repeated. 'Or I start asking very public questions about why some of your clientele appear to be Bandati. I'm a.s.suming you're aware of the punishment you would be facing if that became public?'

The barely-lit gloom of the worm's interior served to the two agents' advantage. Beyond the kitchens nearby, it didn't appear this little contretemps with Charette had been noticed. Except in one place? Remembrance glimpsed a shadow move close behind one of the screens separating a part of the dining area he couldn't see into. The shadow moved closer, revealing the outline of a cadaverous human skull, pressed up against the thin, semi-translucent material . . .