"No!" she yelled. Her wild face looked directly at the man in front of her, pleading. He seemed ordinary enough, middle-aged, dressed in a smart jacket. He won't hit a woman He won't hit a woman, she thought. "We just want to go. Let us go."

"b.i.t.c.h." His fist slammed into her nose. She heard the bone crunch. For the first second it didn't hurt; she was numb with shock and terror. Then the frightening pulse of hot pain pierced her brain. Mareble screamed, crumpling to her knees. To one side she saw a boot kick Da.n.a.l's ribs. Blood was pouring down her mouth and chin.

"That's enough," a woman's voice said calmly. A dark figure stepped into the middle of the mob.

Then finally finally the gaiafield was awash with sympathy and kindness. The amazing sensation grew and grew like nothing Mareble had ever known before. She gasped in astonishment, blinking up at the woman, who was now opening her coat as if emerging from a coc.o.o.n. Underneath she wore a long cream robe resembling those of the Clerics. It seemed to glow of its own accord. A pendant on a slim gold chain around her neck shone an intense blue light across Mareble's face, which somehow siphoned out so much of her fear. For a moment she trancended her own body to look out across the stars from a viewpoint outside the galaxy. The sight was extraordinarily warming. Then she was back on Viotia and looking up in silent awe at the figure grinning down at her. the gaiafield was awash with sympathy and kindness. The amazing sensation grew and grew like nothing Mareble had ever known before. She gasped in astonishment, blinking up at the woman, who was now opening her coat as if emerging from a coc.o.o.n. Underneath she wore a long cream robe resembling those of the Clerics. It seemed to glow of its own accord. A pendant on a slim gold chain around her neck shone an intense blue light across Mareble's face, which somehow siphoned out so much of her fear. For a moment she trancended her own body to look out across the stars from a viewpoint outside the galaxy. The sight was extraordinarily warming. Then she was back on Viotia and looking up in silent awe at the figure grinning down at her.

The front rank of the mob was hesitating, their first angry glances at the intruder fading to bewilderment. Even their hatred and rage couldn't stand against the blaze of serenity and comfort she poured into the gaiafield.

Da.n.a.l raised his head, a look of incredulity rising over his pain. "Dreamer!" he gasped in wonder.

"h.e.l.lo, Da.n.a.l." Araminta smiled. She pushed some of the Skylord's contentment into the greeting, feeling it wash over the poor abused man, feeling his relief. Mareble was watching her worshipfully as she tried to staunch the flow of blood from her broken nose, and right across the Commonwealth, Living Dream followers sent their welcome and thanks that she had finally come out of hiding to take up her destiny. The wave of goodwill was awesome in its extent, combining the emotion of billions, sending it sweeping across hundreds of worlds.

Then one of the mob finally managed to shake off the daze of sensation Araminta and the Skylord were radiating out into the gaiafield. It was the one who'd punched Mareble. "You!" he spit. "This is all your fault." A metal bar was raised. Araminta stared at him, feeling something something flow from the Skylord into her mind, elevating her thoughts still higher. And she recalled Ra.n.a.lee's iniquitous ability. "No," she told him quietly, and changed his mind for him, draining away the fear and hatred. flow from the Skylord into her mind, elevating her thoughts still higher. And she recalled Ra.n.a.lee's iniquitous ability. "No," she told him quietly, and changed his mind for him, draining away the fear and hatred.

His mouth parted in a silent gasp, and the metal bar clattered to the ground just as a squadron of capsules roared in overhead. Araminta grinned up at them as they descended, sharing the sight with everyone everywhere. She held a hand out and helped Mareble to her feet as armor-clad figures shoved their way through the sullen silent mob.

"Thank you, gentlemen," she said mildly as they came right up to her, guns drawn to cover the throng. "Please a.s.sist Da.n.a.l."

The officer in front hesitated. She could sense the uncertainty in his mind, the desperate wish to be anywhere else. "You're to come with me," he announced.

I AM THE DREAMER, Araminta proclaimed into the gaiafield, using the Skylord's strength to bolster the claim. The officer swayed back from the force of the thought, almost falling as his knees weakened. Behind him, people were flinching, cowering at the power of her thoughts. "Did the Waterwalker travel by capsule?" she continued mildly. "I think not. I will walk to the wormhole. Those of you who wish to follow the dream may accompany me." She gave the mob a calculated look. No one would meet her gaze now. "Those who would hurt my followers will be dealt with." She glanced at the officer again. "Your name?"

"Darraklan. Captain Darraklan."

"Very well, Captain Darraklan, your men will perform escort duty. There will be peace in this city. That is my wish."

"Yes, ma'am," Darraklan stammered.

Araminta raised an eyebrow. The hint of censure peeked out from her mind.

Darraklan bowed. "Yes, Dreamer," he corrected himself.

Araminta gave Mareble a gracious smile. "Come." The crowd parted, and she started walking down the slope toward the river and the docks. Bewildered Ellezelin troopers quickly helped Da.n.a.l to his feet.

By the time she reached the bottom of Daryad Avenue, she'd picked up quite a retinue. Happy Living Dream followers had rushed out of every intersection to greet her, disbelief and joy surging out of their minds. Captain Darraklan's troopers maintained a careful escort, not pressing in yet forming a secure perimeter. Capsules drifted high overhead, keeping pace. Araminta ignored them.

There had been many protests outside the docks themselves. Several hundred hardy city residents had set up camp in front of the main entrance, only to be largely ignored by the capsules that flitted in and out over their heads. Now they formed a curious crowd, watching as Araminta led her procession toward them. Anxiety and uncertainty began to rattle along the front rank. It was one thing to taunt the una.s.sailable, indifferent paramilitaries on the other side of the fence for the injustice they'd brought to Viotia and quite another to face down a living messiah with mysterious telepathic powers. Araminta was still a hundred meters short of them when they began to part, leaving a clear pa.s.sage to the dock entrance. Tall gates were hurriedly peeled open to reveal another batch of paramilitaries. These were headed by Cleric Phelim himself, who didn't offer anything by way of complicity or acceptance.

Araminta knew this was the first real test of her claim to be the Dreamer. Phelim wouldn't crumple like Darraklan, though she was certain that ultimately he wouldn't be able to withstand Ra.n.a.lee's dominance technique. She sincerely hoped the Skylord would lend its a.s.sistance again if she asked, if she showed an obstacle to bringing the faithful to the Void as she had promised she would. In fact, it really shouldn't need the intervention of a Skylord. To the whole of Living Dream she had a.s.sumed her rightful position as their leader, their savior. Clerics had become nothing more than administrators and bureaucrats, simple functionaries to facilitate her wishes. Judging from the expression on Phelim's face and the few tightly controlled thoughts he did permit to be shared through the gaiafield, he was beginning to realize that, too.

I just have to keep going, she told herself in that little core of ident.i.ty she didn't share across the gaiafield, be an unstoppable force just like I promised Bradley. The true followers won't stand for anyone be an unstoppable force just like I promised Bradley. The true followers won't stand for anyone interfering with me, not now that I can deliver the Pilgrimage. That's what Living Dream stands for; it is everything to them interfering with me, not now that I can deliver the Pilgrimage. That's what Living Dream stands for; it is everything to them.

A phony respectful smile spread across Cleric Phelim's face. "Second Dreamer," he said, with a slight emphasis on "second." "We are so glad you have chosen to come forth at last. Welcome."

Araminta didn't even stop walking. She headed straight at the troopers lined up behind Phelim. They quickly shuffled aside. "Part of the reason I remained concealed was the suffering you unleashed on this world," she said as she led her supporters through the troopers. Mareble, who had stayed close by the whole way down Daryad Avenue, glared at Phelim. It was a common sensation directed at the man. Up ahead was the wormhole; Araminta could see the violet-blue Cherenkov radiation leaking out from the edge. A different sunlight shone through the center.

Phelim's expression hardened as he struggled to restrain himself. "I a.s.sure you we did everything that we could to-"

He was moving with her now, ambling in an awkward sideways gait. She'd won. "When I sit in the Orchard Palace, I will order a full and open inquiry into your part in this aggression," she said dismissively.

"Wha-" Phelim managed to blurt.

"Violence was something the Waterwalker strove to eradicate. He devoted his lives to it. The cause almost broke him, but he succeeded. That is his true inspiration to us. And this monstrous invasion is the ant.i.thesis of everything Living Dream stands for. To believe you will go unpunished for such an atrocity is arrogant beyond belief."

Cheering broke out all across the docks as Phelim abruptly stood still, watching with an open jaw as Araminta carried on to the wormhole. A lot of the enthusiastic jeering voices were rising from the protesters just outside the entrance.

Araminta smiled proudly, savoring the victory. The wormhole was directly ahead of her now, guarded by tall metal pillars studded with weapons and sensors. The Ellezelin forces parted before her. Helmets were discarded, showing grinning faces. The true believers were delighted she was here, was going to lead them onward just as the movement had always promised. She was cheered and applauded.

"Thank you," she told them. "Thank you so much." It was hard not to laugh outright. She'd accessed politicians working the crowds enough times, always hating the smug cynical b.a.s.t.a.r.ds putting on a human persona whenever elections were due. Now she understood how they did it; puppeting the crowds was apparently an inbuilt ability.

Just as she reached the wormhole, she slowed and gripped Mareble's hands. The woman looked at her with an alarming degree of adoration, eyes bright above the dried blood staining her face and dress. "You can go home now," Araminta told the overwhelmed woman. "I will lead us on Pilgrimage shortly, once the ships are ready."

Mareble's lower lip trembled as she began to cry.

"It's all right," Araminta a.s.sured her. "Everything is all right now." That was a lie on the grandest scale possible. She was rather pleased with herself for carrying it off with such panache.

Araminta raised a hand to her newfound friends and walked into the mouth of the wormhole, where she was engulfed by Ellezelin's warmer, yellower sunlight.

"Holy c.r.a.p!" Oscar muttered.

"That's not her," Tomansio said.

"She's f.u.c.ked us," Beckia grunted. "Totally f.u.c.ked us. She's killed the whole galaxy."

On the other side of the starship's cabin, Liatris shook his head, his mouth raised in a lopsided smile of admiration. "Smart lady. They kept pushing her and pushing her, backing her into an impossible corner. There were only ever two options. Cave in or come out fighting. They never expected her to do that."

"Because that's not her," Tomansio said confidently.

"Looked like her," Oscar said. His u-shadow was still accessing the unisphere news feeds, showing the mouth of the wormhole not half a kilometer from the Bootle & Leicester warehouse where the Elvin's Payback Elvin's Payback was secreted. It had taken a great deal of willpower not to run out of the starship and take a look at events for himself. The unisphere feed showed him hundreds of joyous people following their newfound messiah through the wormhole to Ellezelin. Unisphere coverage ended there. The other end of the wormhole was in a security zone. was secreted. It had taken a great deal of willpower not to run out of the starship and take a look at events for himself. The unisphere feed showed him hundreds of joyous people following their newfound messiah through the wormhole to Ellezelin. Unisphere coverage ended there. The other end of the wormhole was in a security zone.

The gaiafield, however, was still gifting Araminta's sight and emotions as she walked across the nearly empty staging field. Capsules rushed through the air toward her. People were breaking off from their tasks on the acres of machinery scattered about to cheer her arrival in Greater Makkathran. And how is dear old Cleric Conservator Ethan going to react to this? And how is dear old Cleric Conservator Ethan going to react to this? he wondered. he wondered.

"So that's it," Beckia said. She was still cranky at having to wear the medical sleeve on her arm, which was busy knitting the deep-tissue repairs she'd undergone after the fight in Francola Wood. Three other enriched agents had swarmed her, and her integral force field had temporarily overloaded down her left side. Oscar had pulled her out of the fray just before the capsules landed. He considered her lucky. Tomansio had managed to extract them, and the medical capsule that had repaired her had performed a minor miracle.

"Maybe," Oscar said. "She must have a plan."

"That's a dangerous a.s.sumption," Tomansio said. "Liatris got it right; she's been forced into this act simply to survive."

"I thought you said it wasn't her," Oscar countered.

Tomansio's handsome face shone with a bright smile. "Touche."

"It's her," Oscar said.

"Still not convinced," Tomansio said. "This ... empress empress isn't the same girl we've been chasing after. Facing down Living Dream simply isn't in her psychology." isn't the same girl we've been chasing after. Facing down Living Dream simply isn't in her psychology."

"What, then?" Beckia demanded.

"Double bluff," Tomansio said. "They got to her; they broke into her mind and installed their own operating routines. This is a puppet of Living Dream, one that's been pushed out center stage to focus everyone's attention. Big bonus that she'll do what every follower wants and lead them to Pilgrimage. It makes perfect sense for Ethan to do this; he gets everything he ever wanted."

"Except lead Living Dream," Oscar said. "That's her next step. It has to be; she can't do anything else but claim the throne now."

"It doesn't matter," Tomansio said. "He still gets what he wants, which is a ticket into the Void, and at the same time he doesn't get any of the blame if it all goes belly-up."

"Which it will," Beckia said.

"I still don't buy it," Oscar said. He remembered the expression of fear and determination he'd seen on Araminta's face when they met oh so briefly in Bodant Park. Her magnificent run eluding not just his team but the entire complement of agents from every power player in the Commonwealth. Besides, she was descended from Mellanie, and that meant trouble trouble on a level these modern Greater Commonwealth citizens couldn't comprehend. His lips registered a slight smile. on a level these modern Greater Commonwealth citizens couldn't comprehend. His lips registered a slight smile. Something Something about the whole situation wasn't quite right-Tomansio had the truth of that-but he had absolutely no idea what. about the whole situation wasn't quite right-Tomansio had the truth of that-but he had absolutely no idea what.

"Then what is she doing?" Beckia asked. "She might have come out fighting from the corner they'd backed her into, but she's burned any options. She has to take Living Dream on Pilgrimage now. That's what her whole tenuous authority is based on."

"Suicide?" Liatris suggested. "She leads them into the Gulf, and the Pilgrimage ships get blasted apart by the warrior Raiel."

"That'd work for me," Beckia grunted.

Oscar grinned from the strength of his own conviction. "Have a little faith," he told the Knights Guardian. "After all, she is a messiah now."

Tomansio groaned. "You mean you want us to stay on?"

"You've seen what's going on in the docks right now. Every Living Dream follower on the planet is going to come running to the wormhole, and Phelim will have to shut off the weather dome to let them in. If we left now, we'd definitely be seen; we'd blow our cover."

"We don't need cover if the operation is over."

"Give her a few days. She is rather busy right now, after all. And she has my number."

"Don't we all," Beckia muttered.

Araminta stood at the front of the big pa.s.senger capsule, looking through the transparent fuselage that wrapped around her. Five hundred meters below, Greater Makkathran was laid out across the ground, a phenomenal urban sprawl that stretched to the horizon in every direction. Sunlight glinted and flashed off the crystal towers rising from lush parks; lower buildings shone with implausible colors. It was, she acknowledged, a beautiful city. However, her vision of the capital was slightly obscured by the sheer number of capsules rising up out of the designated traffic streams to wait for her to pa.s.s. Then they curved around to join the festive armada already flying along behind her. There were so many packed together like a smoke cloud, she could actually see the hazy shadow they splashed over the ground.

Up ahead, the ocean appeared on the horizon where the city dipped down to a broad swath of green park. And there, gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight, Makkathran2 was perched on the sh.o.r.eline.

"Do you want to go straight to the Orchard Palace, Dreamer?" Captain Darraklan asked. He'd stayed with her after they walked through the wormhole, seemingly appointing himself as her personal guard. She wasn't about to argue. With his helmet off, he was actually quite handsome in a cla.s.sic square-jawed way, his floppy chestnut hair reminding her of one of Mr. Bovey's younger selves.

"No," she said without taking her gaze from the hauntingly strange reproduction city. "Edeard first entered through the North Gate. Take me there; that will be fitting. I will walk to the Orchard Palace." Which will give Ethan plenty of time to throw up the barricades, if he dares Which will give Ethan plenty of time to throw up the barricades, if he dares. She felt a grim amus.e.m.e.nt coming from Darraklan's mind as the capsule began to lose alt.i.tude. He must have been thinking the same thing.

They touched down on the vast circle of parkland surrounding the crystal wall. As she alighted onto the gra.s.s, she glanced back at the armada that was now tussling for ground s.p.a.ce. It really had turned the sky dark. She was sure none of them were obeying local traffic control orders anymore. That's good. A little knot of anarchy which I influence. They don't all obey Ethan's laws unquestioningly That's good. A little knot of anarchy which I influence. They don't all obey Ethan's laws unquestioningly.

So far everyone was waiting to see what would happen next, pushing her along with their enthusiasm and her apparent newfound relish for the role of Dreamer. All she had to do was supplant Ethan, and the only way to do that was to show her ability and determination were greater than his. Just like Bradley said Just like Bradley said.

Araminta walked through the great arch in the crystal wall, with people pouring out of their badly parked capsules to form a carnival procession behind her. She didn't really get much of a look at Makkathran2 from ground level. High Moat, which the gate opened on to, was jammed with people; surely everyone who lived in their shrine city had turned out to welcome her. The cheer that arose at her arrival was deafening. A row of men in Makkathran constable uniforms exactly like those of the Waterwalker's squad saluted. Darraklan and their sergeant shouted back and forth while Araminta waved at the crowd, all the while moving forward. Never hesitate, never slow Never hesitate, never slow.

After a moment the constables fell in around her, easing her pa.s.sage toward the bridge over North Curve Ca.n.a.l and into Ysidro.

She was wrong about the whole population being on High Moat. Ysidro's narrow twisting streets were packed solid with supporters, some crying openly. The eerily familiar Blue Fox tavern was there beside the ginger sandstone bridge that took her into Golden Park, where the sunlight was shimmering off the white pillars. Another sea of bodies thronged the vast open s.p.a.ce, and the high domes of the Orchard Palace dominated the far skyline.

While she was walking along one of the park's elegant paths, Darraklan leaned over to murmur in her ear. "The Cleric Council has convened at the entrance to the palace."

"Wonderful," she replied. There were a lot of children lining the path, all of them with shining adulation in their eyes. It was hard to keep pushing on knowing she would ultimately betray that trust and reverence. It is their parents who have misled them, not me. I will be the truth for them It is their parents who have misled them, not me. I will be the truth for them.

By the time she reached the wire and wood bridge that crossed Outer Circle Ca.n.a.l, her resolution had returned. The thousands of smiling faces that urged her on no longer even registered as she crossed the ca.n.a.l. Darraklan accompanied her while the constables tried to stop the crowd pressing forward into the ca.n.a.l itself. They were all so desperate to see what happened next, their combined thoughts urging the Clerics to acknowledge their new Dreamer.

As Darraklan had said, the Cleric Council was waiting for her just inside the Malfit Hall, resplendent in their scarlet and black robes. Ethan stood in front of them, his white robes shining far brighter than Araminta's own. Reasonable enough, she admitted. After all, she'd sewn hers together from the lining of Mr. Bovey's semiorganic curtains.

The Cleric Conservator bowed deeply. "Dreamer," he said. "Welcome. We have waited so long for this moment."

Araminta gave him a sly smile. For someone who'd just been politically outmaneuvered, he was in surprisingly good humor. "Be careful what you wish for."

"Indeed. May I ask why you have finally come forward?"

"It was time," she replied. "And I wished to end Viotia's suffering."

"That was most regrettable."

"It is past," she said lightly, knowing how angry her homeworld would be at that. "I am here to lead those who want a better life for themselves, those who chose to live as the Waterwalker did." Again she appealed to the Skylord, who said: "We await you. We will guide you."

The gasp of joy from the crowd outside was audible through the hall's thick walls. She smiled significantly at Ethan: your call.

"We are honored," he said effusively.

"Thank you. Shall we move to the Upper Council chamber now? We have much to settle."

Ethan glanced along the line of Cleric Councillors, their uncertain hopeful faces. One of them smiled slickly. "Of course, Dreamer," he said.

"Rincenso, isn't it?" Araminta said.

"Yes, Dreamer."

"I'm grateful for your support."

"My pleasure."

I'll bet it is, you unctuous little t.i.t. "Which way?"

Rincenso's bow was so deep, it verged on parody. He gestured. "This way, please, Dreamer."

She watched the eternal storm playing across the ceiling, oddly saddened by the fact it was only a replica of the real Malfit Hall and the vivid images above her were nothing but a copy of Querencia's planetary system. Now that she'd begun this course of action, she was actually keen to see it resolved, to walk through the real Makkathran and see for herself the streets and buildings where Edeard's dramas had played out.

They walked silently through the smaller Toral Hall and into the Upper Council chamber. Araminta grinned at the solar vortex playing on its cross-vault ceiling. Here the copper sun's accretion disc was still in its glory days, not as Justine had just seen it, with the brash comets dwindling and a new planet orbiting where it should never have been.

"You haven't updated it, then?" she inquired lightly as she walked straight to the gold-embossed throne at the head of the long table.

"This is the Makkathran of the Waterwalker, Dreamer," Ethan said.

"Of course. Not that it matters; we will soon be leaving here for good. Be seated," she said graciously.

Ethan claimed the seat on her left-hand side, and Rincenso sat opposite him. There were just enough seats for everyone. No Phelim No Phelim, she thought sagely. Let's keep it like that Let's keep it like that. The thin Cleric unnerved her somewhat.

"May I ask if you intend to keep sharing so widely with the gaiafield?" Ethan said.