"If the Void's boundary sweeps through this sector of space, Earth and ANA will be perfectly safe."

"You don't know that."

"Oh, yes, we do."

"I really, really hope you're not basing your goals on some chunk of weapons technology you've managed to cobble together with a couple of old replicators. The Raiel cannot defeat the boundary. Even ANA: Governance can't work out what will happen if and when the Void's boundary washes across itself."

"That level of expansion is extremely unlikely, to the point of sheer impossibility. First, the stars of the Wall have tremendous mass, enough to facilitate the wishes of every Living Dream pilgrim for centuries. It is an absolute fallacy that every star in the galaxy will be engulfed by the Void. It's Raiel propaganda shouted in tedious repetition by the Ocisens. The Raiel are an ancient failed race, as changeless as the Void itself; they have no right to dictate to us. Even if the entire galactic core gets devoured, it doesn't matter. There's nothing alive in there; the planets are radiation-saturated husks of rock. You even believe it yourself, always accusing us of wanting the devourment. Have I ever said that?"

"No. I know exactly what Accelerators want: fusion. Right? You want to merge ANA with the fabric of the Void continuum. You think that's how we'll achieve postphysical status."

"You have accessed Inigo's dreams. We know the Conservatives have analyzed them as thoroughly as everyone else. Inside the Void, the mind directly affects the fabric of the universe. We can take charge of our own destiny."

"No, no, no," Gore shouted. "The Void is not a fucking universe; it is a microverse, a tiny insignificant little speck of nothing. In cosmological terms, it doesn't even register. You can play God in there, for sure; the Waterwalker does it. But you're only God in there, nowhere else. It is an alien version of ANA, that's all. That's not transcendence; it's being so far up your own ass that you can't see what's going on outside."

"It is a huge opportunity for growth. The Void has stalled; it has been changeless for millions-billions-of years. We can reinvigorate it. Humans have already begun that process, ordinary pitiful animals that now have mental powers even we can only fantasize about. Imagine what will happen when ANA has full access to such a technology and begins to manipulate it in new directions."

"Sweet Ozzie, you are pitiful. I'd be contemptuous if I considered you sentient, but you're not even that."

"We knew you would be opposed to the fusion. This is what our offer concerns."

"Go on," Gore said suspiciously.

"We will duplicate ANA. Those who wish to attain fusion with the Void can stay here; those who do not can transfer over and fly free."

"That doesn't solve a fucking thing, girlie. The Void can't be allowed to fuse with a postphysical mind or even ANA, which, face it, isn't there yet."

Ilanthe's expression hardened. "Your language betrays you. 'Can't be allowed'? You don't have the right to make that judgment. Evolution will occur, triggered either by the Pilgrimage or by a more direct connection. For all you know, the Waterwalker himself may bring about expansion."

"He happened a thousand years ago, ten thousand for all we know."

"Time is irrelevant in there."

"Shit! You're not Accelerators, not anymore; you've seen the light and converted to Living Dream."

"We have seen an opportunity to advance ourselves and taken it. We have never hidden our purpose from anyone."

"Accelerators didn't start out lusting after the Void."

"Now you are betraying your age, your own changeless nature."

"I should just get out of the way, then, should I? Maybe simply erase myself? Make it all nice and simple for the new order."

"You are responsible for your own destiny." She shrugged an elegant shoulder. "Your choice."

"Okay, granted, and I will make it, believe me. But assuming you're right and the Void doesn't expand like a hyperspace tsunami when the Pilgrimage gets inside, how are you going to fuse ANA with it?"

"We don't have to. Highers will travel with the Pilgrimage ships. They will study the true nature of the Void fabric and the mechanism which generates it."

"If it can be built once," Gore said quietly, "it can be built again."

Ilanthe smiled. "Now you understand. We can build a second Void here in this solar system and bring about the fusion right away. ANA will evolve and transcend."

"Nice science experiment. What happens if it doesn't work? ANA is the core of Higher culture; Earth is the physical center of the Commonwealth. If you take that away, two cultures will suffer."

"I never thought I'd hear that: Gore Burnelli, whining liberal. Normal, Higher, and Advancer humans will have to make their own way in the universe. That, too, is evolution."

"In a galaxy that your arrogance will have given a very short future."

"Our solution is one that will satisfy all factions. Both of us can carry on almost as before."

"You weren't even born on Earth. I was. It's my home. And I'm not letting anyone fuck with it."

"Then you are even less developed than we gave you credit for. Our offer stands. I expect the other factions will take us up on it when they see the inevitability of what is to come."

"Are you planning to blow the Empire fleet out of space?"

Ilanthe looked genuinely indignant. "Of course not. They are an irrelevance. Kazimir will deal with them one way or another." She smiled coldly. "Please consider our offer, Gore. It is made in the spirit of reconciliation. After all, if anyone can be said to be ANA's father, it is you. Time perhaps to let go and allow your child to make its own way in life." She trotted back into the waves and dived below the water.

Gore stared at the surf where she had disappeared, his mind tracing her withdrawal from his personal reality. "Fuck me," he grunted.

When he walked along the dirt track that curved up around the headland, he found Nelson already sitting by the pool at the base of the tower. As usual, there was a tall drink on the table beside him.

"Did you get all that?" Gore asked as he sat down.

"I got it all. I just don't think I believe much of it. For a start, she's being very glib about the Pilgrimage ships actually getting inside. What are you going to do?"

"I knew they wanted the kind of abilities the Void fabric has-that's a logical development on the way to becoming postphysical-but I'm concerned about their method of acquisition. I don't believe a damn word about some bunch of selfless academics going with the Pilgrimage to study how the thing is put together. We're going to have to root around a little harder to find out what they're really up to out there. Find out what you can about that guy Marius was visiting on Arevalo, that physicist, Troblum."

"Will do. And what if ANA does finally become capable of ascending to postphysical status?"

"I've always known it would right from the start. That was the whole point of it-well, that and giving ourselves the ability to defend the Commonwealth."

"Are you going to try to stop it?"

"Of course not. I just don't want the natural process hijacked. And that's what's going to happen if we're not careful."

It was already night when Aaron's regrav capsule landed on the pad of St. Mary's clinic, just outside the reception block. He stepped out and looked around. The clinic was set in four square miles of thick forest, with individual buildings scattered across the landscape. Tall gistrel trees formed a dark wall around the pad, their long feathery branches blocking any view of the villas, medical blocks, spas, and leisure domes he knew were out there. The only light came from the long windows of the reception block thirty meters away, shining through the black trunks.

Corrie-Lyn stood beside him, straightening her blouse. Her face was screwed up. "Gosh, I love the whole gloomy jungle-with-wild-creatures look they've gone for. Very welcoming."

"Perhaps we could get your manic depression eradicated while we're here."

"Screw you."

"Now remember, darling, happy faces."

He gripped her hand and produced a big bright smile. She almost shook free, then remembered and drew a reluctant breath. "Okay, but this better be quick."

The reception doors opened as they walked toward the low building. It was a plush interior that looked as if it had been carved out of pink and gold marble, with secluded grotto chambers recessed into the wall of the central hall. Most of the chambers had been utilized by exclusive retail outlets as display booths for their inordinately expensive designer clothes and products.

Their personal clinician was waiting to greet them: Ruth Stol, who clearly had been designed to promote the clinic's expertise, with a body that resembled a teenage goddess draped in semitranslucent silver and pink fabric. Even Aaron, who was perfectly mission-focused, took a moment to admire and smile at the vision of vitality who extended her flawless hand in greeting. His field functions detected a discreet scan from the building security net, which he deflected easily enough, showing the sensors an image of a moderately overweight man. The additional volume around his torso was actually provided by a bandolier harness carrying an array of weapons.

Ruth Stol was devoid of all enrichments, though she had more macrocellular clusters than the average Advancer. Her nervous system shone with impulses operating at the kind of rate that normal humans could achieve only with a serious dose of accelerants.

"Thank you so much for choosing our clinic, Mr. Telfer," she said. Her hand pressed against Aaron's palm, squeezing flirtatiously. His biononics ran a check for pheromone infiltration. Paranoid! But her touch and voice were definitely arousing him; his exovision grid showed his heart rate up, his skin temperature rising.

"No infiltration," his u-shadow reported. So it was all natural, then. Hardly surprising.

"You're welcome," Corrie-Lyn said in a voice so cold that it should have produced ice droplets.

"Er, yeah," Aaron mumbled belatedly. He reluctantly withdrew his hand, enjoying the coy amusement in the clinician's limpid green eyes. "Thanks for seeing us at such short notice."

"We're always happy to help couples achieve a more secure relationship," Ruth Stol said. "I believe you said you wanted twins."

"Twins?" Corrie-Lyn repeated blankly.

"That's right." Aaron put an arm around Corrie-Lyn's shoulders, feeling the muscles locked rigid. "The best we can have."

"Of course," Ruth Stol said. "Boys or girls?"

"Darling?" Aaron inquired.

"Boys," Corrie-Lyn said.

"Do you have an idea of their physiological status?"

"At least as good as you," Aaron told her, which produced another smile. "And I'd like the pair of us to be advanced to that level, too. It's about time I went cutting edge." He patted his bulky stomach ruefully. "Perhaps a little metabolism tweaking to thin me down."

"I'd be very grateful for that," Corrie-Lyn said. "He's so repugnant to look at right now. Never mind sex."

"Oh, darling, you promised not to mention that," Aaron said tightly.

She smiled brightly.

"It's a wonderful step to acknowledge any problems right at the start," Ruth Stol said. "You'll be an enviable family. We can begin our appraisal tomorrow and review what we can offer you. Our premium service will fast-track your changes; I don't expect this to take more than a couple of weeks. Were you intending to carry the twins yourself?" she asked Corrie-Lyn. "Or is it going to be a womb tank?"

"Haven't decided." Corrie-Lyn smiled back. "I love him enough to consider the physical burden, but you'll have to show me what you can do to make pregnancy easier before I commit."

"How sweet. I'll have a simulated sensory package of the full pregnancy option ready for you to review in the morning, and remember, we can always reverse the changes afterward."

"Lovely."

"We've given you villa 163, which has its own pool, and it's not far from block three, where you'll receive your treatments."

"Excellent," Aaron said. "I think I'll go check out the main pool and the restaurants first, especially that Singapore Grill I've heard about. What about you, dear?"

"It's been a long day. I'll go to the villa and organize that." Corrie-Lyn eyed the various displays around the hall. "After some shopping. I really like some of these designs."

"Don't spend too much." He gave her a farewell peck on the cheek and headed out the door. His u-shadow extracted the clinic map from the local net, which would give the appearance of normality for another few minutes. "Can you get into the vault?" he asked it.

"No. There are no data channels into the vault."

Aaron took a path away from the landing pad that would lead to the main pool building, a large blue-tinted dome that housed a lush tropical environment, with the pool itself fashioned to resemble a lagoon. The path lit up like a strip of glowing yellow fog under his feet. "What about the security system?" he asked his u-shadow.

"I can only access the lower levels. All guests are under permanent surveillance of some kind; several are red-tagged."

"Really? Are we red-tagged?"

"No."

"Will they know if I leave the path?"

"Yes. Various passive sensors are feeding the smartcore."

"Start some diversions, please. Trigger alerts and attack the security net in several places, well away from me. Nothing to warrant a police call-out."

"Initiating."

Aaron left the path and started to run through the trees. His suit spun a stealth effect around him. After a minute of slipping unseen through the forest, he arrived at the administration block. There were two stories aboveground, and his research had shown ten floors cut into the bedrock beneath the forest. The secure storage vault was on the bottom. His field function scan revealed a complex array of sensors guarding the walls and the surrounding swath of garden.

He began to sprint past the last trees, accelerating hard with field-reinforced muscles until he was at the edge of the lawn; then he jumped, extending his force field wide, shaping it into two long swept-back petals. Suspended between his invisible wings, he glided directly at a specific window on the upper floor like a silent missile. He grinned into the air that rushed against his face and rippled his suit. Excitement was starting to build, and his biononics could suppress it only so much. Even though he knew what he was going to have to do, he was still enjoying himself; this was what he existed for.

Aaron let out an em-pulse from his biononics, targeted to disable the sensors and power supply around the window. When he was five meters from the wall, he triggered a disrupter effect. Glass turned to white powder and blew inward with the sound of damp cloth being ripped. He canceled his force field wings and dropped through the hole, hitting the floor with a roll.

Inside was a long finance department office, deserted and dark. The door was locked. He did not use the disrupter effect but simply smashed it down with amplified muscle power. The corridor outside ran the length of the building. Orange emergency lighting produced strangely angled shadows across the walls. His scrambler effect knocked out the net across half of the building. He jogged to the emergency stairwell and burst through, vaulted over the rail, and landed with a loud thud on the concrete floor below, his integral force field absorbing the impact. He scanned the area.

Two security managers were sitting in the control center, both heavily enriched. They were motionless as their u-shadows interfaced them with the clinic's security net and they struggled to make sense of what was happening across the forest.

The door broke apart as Aaron walked through it. Eight energy dumps flew out from the bandolier straps under his suit, hand-size black discs that zipped through the air like cybernetic hornets. They struck the security managers before either could fire a shot. Both of them were transformed into silhouettes of searing white light as their personal force fields were overloaded relentlessly; tendrils of electricity lashed out from the incandescent shapes, grounding through the desks and chairs next to them. Ribbons of smoke crept up from the carpet around their feet. They began to thrash about as the discharge of energy soared to an unbearable thunderclap screech. Light panels in the ceiling detonated into splinters of bubbling plastic.

Aaron drew a jelly gun from the bandolier harness as the nimbus of light on the first manager began to fade. The man's force field flickered erratically into a purple and orange shroud. Dark shadows infiltrated the dying luminescence, exposing swaths of smoldering uniform. Aaron fired. The manager disintegrated in a spherical wave of gore that spattered across the room. After that, Aaron simply waited a few seconds until the energy dumps completed their work on the second manager and her force field sputtered out. The room was plunged into darkness as she fell to the floor in a sobbing heap, barely conscious.

He knelt beside her and took the surgical cutter from his pocket. The little black and silver gadget extended its eight malmetal arms as he placed it carefully on her head. Unlike Ruth Stol, the clinic had not designed any beauty into the security manager. She had a plain round face with dark enriched eyes; the skin on her cheeks was red and raw from the crackling electron currents. Tears were leaking across them as she gazed up at Aaron.

"Please," she croaked.

"Don't worry," he told her. "You won't remember this night when you're re-lifed."

The cutter settled on the crown of her head like some vampiric creature, the arms tightening to obtain a better grip on her singed flesh. Microsurgery energy blades slid out and began to cut. Aaron waited with only the sound of gooey blood droplets drizzling down from the soot-caked ceiling to break the dark silence of the room.

"Procedure complete," his u-shadow reported.

Aaron reached down and gently pulled the surgical cutter. It lifted upward with a slimy sucking sound, taking the top of her skull with it. A small amount of blood welled up around the edges of the severed bone, dribbling down through the matted hair. Her exposed brain glistened a pale gray in the weak emergency lighting shining in from the corridor outside.

He poised his left hand a couple of centimeters above the gory naked flesh. The skin on his palm puckered in seven little circles. Slender wormlike tendrils began to wriggle out of each apex. He brought the hand down on her brain and manipulated his force field to bond the two together, preventing his hand from sliding even fractionally. The tendrils insinuated themselves into her neuron structure, branching again and again like some plant root seeking moisture. Those tips were hunting out distinct neural pathways, circumventing conscious control over not just her body but her thoughts.

Synapses were violated and corrupted successfully. His mentallic software began to pull coherent strands out of the chaotic impulses.