"Say what?"

"Turn off the telepathy effect. It allows the Chikoya to track Inigo."

"Ah, I get it. Smart. No."

"I have brought Inigo to you. You cannot function effectively together if we are constantly interrupted by hostile elements."

"Man, I don't want to function effectively or any other way with that little t.u.r.d."

"You have to."

"No, dude, I don't."

"I will exterminate the woman if you do not switch it off."

"Jesus f.u.c.k! Why? Who is she?"

"Corrie-Lyn. A past member of the Living Dream Cleric Council and Inigo's lover."

"So why kill her?" Ozzie was getting a bad feeling about the way the man's thoughts functioned. In fact, he was beginning to wonder just what kind of biology was nestling inside the human skull. And who it belonged to.

"She is my leverage. If you do not comply, I will find others to kill until you do."

"Okay. I'll accept that threat is real for the moment. What does Inigo want with me?"

"He doesn't know yet. I am following orders from another source to bring you both together."

"s.h.i.t. Who wants that to happen?"

"I don't know."

"Come on! Seriously, dude?"

"Yes."

"Wow. So what do you expect us to do when we're up and talking?"

"I do not know. Those operational instructions will not activate until that stage of the mission has reached active status."

"You're not human."

"I was."

Yep, very very bad feeling. "I know of this kind of conditioning. The last time it was used on humans was by the Starflyer. And I'm pretty sure we got rid of that b.a.s.t.a.r.d." Ozzie grinned evilly. "But you never know, do you?" bad feeling. "I know of this kind of conditioning. The last time it was used on humans was by the Starflyer. And I'm pretty sure we got rid of that b.a.s.t.a.r.d." Ozzie grinned evilly. "But you never know, do you?"

"I do not know who I work for."

"So I have to take a chance, huh?"

"Yes. And spare Corrie-Lyn's life."

"Hmm. I guess the only reason your boss would get me and the d.i.c.khead messiah here together is if he or she or it thinks we can do something about the Void. And for that reason, and that alone, I'll switch it off. I'm curious to see what you think I can do." He directed his u-shadow to deactivate the device. "This will take a while."

"How long?"

"I have no idea. Maybe half an hour. It's never been switched off before."

"I will wait."

Ozzie watched him. The man wasn't kidding. What followed was no vaguely awkward interval where they occasionally made eye contact and hurriedly looked away, nor was there any attempt to talk. He just stood there, his field scan sweeping around; otherwise he had no interest in anything. That wasn't human. His thought routines, such as they were, resembled machine code in their simplicity. In one respect that was a relief; Starflyer conditioning was different.

After a while Ozzie felt minds.p.a.ce withdrawing, collapsing in on itself. It was akin to closing down his gaiamotes. The minds glimmering all around him faded away, most of them expressing sorrow and alarm as they felt minds.p.a.ce fading. The loss was more profound than he was expecting, even though he knew it was temporary. But he'd lived with and embraced minds.p.a.ce for so long now that it was a part of his existence.

"It's done," he said grimly, and pushed his hair back off his forehead. It had absorbed so much of the vapor thrown out by the water column, it had begun to sag and tangle in unpleasant rattails.

A tic started on the man's left cheek. Expression slowly emerged on his face, like color filling a penciled-in outline. He let out a long sigh, the kind a witness to something awful would make. "Okay, then, that's good."

A thoroughly fascinated Ozzie gave him a very curious look. "What's happening?" He had a strong urge to switch minds.p.a.ce back on and feel the man's thoughts again. But it would take days for the device to reestablish that state.

"My normal thought routines are back." The man gave Corrie-Lyn's unconscious form a quizzical glance. "That ought to go down well in some parts."

"So what was firing away in your brain before?"

"It's a kind of minimal function mode, in case of neural injury."

"Uh huh."

"In my profession there's a big chance my neural structure will suffer physical damage during a mission. This allows me to remain functional in adverse circ.u.mstances."

"Cool reboot. Uh, what adverse circ.u.mstances. .h.i.t you here?"

"The telepathy effect was affecting me in an unfortunate way."

"Right," Ozzie drawled. "So who the h.e.l.l are you, dude?"

"Aaron."

"Okay. Top of the list, huh?"

Aaron grinned. "Yes. And thank you for agreeing to meet with me. My minimal version doesn't have a lot of tact."

"Man, that's the biggest understatement I've heard in a century. But you said you've no idea why you're here."

"Partially true. When Inigo wakes up, I'll know what I have to ask the pair of you to do. I'm expecting it'll be to stop the Void's devourment phase."

"Oh, sure. I've got time before lunch. Shall I tell my superwarship crew to get ready to fly? Or are we going to sneak in through the back gate and steal the bad guys' unguarded power supply?"

Aaron smiled like a particularly tolerant parent. "Is that the back gate on the Dark Fortress?"

"Man, I don't like you."

"I appreciate that this isn't easy."

"You have no idea."

Some mornings after she'd woken, Araminta would walk out onto the balcony overlooking the vast expanse of Golden Park to watch the sunrise, enjoying the first rays as they touched the tips of the white pillars along Upper Grove Ca.n.a.l. Over a thousand people were usually there to greet her with waves and cheers and thoughts of thanks directed through the gaiafield. They camped there overnight, much to the annoyance of the city authorities. But Araminta had told the Clerics to grant them permission to stay, knowing that the more people who were watching her, the less anyone could do anything about her. She still gifted everything she saw and heard and felt to the gaiafield, which had led to a storm of embarra.s.sment the first few days as she used the toilet; she soon learned to stop gifting anything but sight at those times and was careful where she looked. She really didn't want to think about what it was going to be like when it was her time of the month. Mercifully, it was a kind of mutual embarra.s.sment, and no one who came into contact with her was cra.s.s enough to mention it.

She was thankful for the control she could exert on her own mind (sometimes resorting to the melange program for support); without that discipline, she would have been completely exposed to the impact of thoughts within the gaiafield. The thoughts of her devout followers she held back from, content simply to know their existence through the outpouring of grat.i.tude. For everyone else, the deluge of emotion from the billions upon billions of humans who didn't admire her, she kept herself as remote as possible. Even with that detachment it was impossible not to be aware of their hatred and vilification. Hour after unceasing hour she was subject to the superlative abuse and loathing of the majority of her entire species. The intensity was awesome in the extreme. They despised her as pure evil that had taken on human form. That was justified, she acknowledged weakly; after all, she was going to trigger the event that most likely was going to kill every single one of them.

She gave the Golden Park crowd a swift wave of appreciation and went back inside. The pool in the bathroom was almost big enough to swim in, and of course no one from the Dreamer down to the Cleric Conservator had ever entertained the notion of installing a decent modern spore shower in an un.o.btrusive corner. If the residents of the state rooms wanted to get clean, they jolly well had to do it the old-fashioned way. Araminta walked down into the body-temperature water and started slathering on the liquid soap. All that ever did was make her think of Edeard and the string of floozies he'd enjoyed during the dark time that had befallen him in Dreams Thirty to Thirty-three. She ordered the shower on and sluiced the bubbles off, mildly worried about how similar the whole episode was to starring in a p.o.r.n show.

Sure enough, and despite her resolve, she could feel the physical admiration of male Living Dream members seeping into the gaiafield as the water ran across her skin-and no little amount of appreciation from females, either. Worse still, a lot of her foes were registering their enjoyment of her flesh.

When this is over, I'm going to have to walk down the Silfen paths to the other side of the galaxy and live like a hermit forevermore. Her gaze was drawn down to the pendant as it dangled between her glistening b.r.e.a.s.t.s-Oh, Ozziec.r.a.pit, look away! It wasn't warm, and the light inside was dim, as if a wisp of phosph.o.r.escence had been caged within the crystal, but it still made its presence known. On the other side of it was the infinite comfort and wisdom of the Silfen Motherholme. That at least gave her some rea.s.surance she wasn't entirely alone. It wasn't warm, and the light inside was dim, as if a wisp of phosph.o.r.escence had been caged within the crystal, but it still made its presence known. On the other side of it was the infinite comfort and wisdom of the Silfen Motherholme. That at least gave her some rea.s.surance she wasn't entirely alone.

Three Mr. Boveys smiled in gentle sympathy as they sat down to a late dinner at home.

She ordered the shower off and stepped out of the pool. Then all she had to do was rub herself down with a towel, which she did while looking at the ceiling. A small growl came out of her throat as she grew cross with herself. She hurriedly struggled into her vest top and briefs, then slithered her long white robe on top. The belt had been modified by the palace security detail and contained a force field generator. They'd insisted, and she wasn't going to argue. Dressed and chaste at last, she made her way through the long ornate halls to the state dining room.

Underneath the glaring ceiling, the huge polished wooden table built for a hundred fifty guests was set for one. At least Edeard had Hilitte for company At least Edeard had Hilitte for company, she thought. And how would he have coped with body functions and s.e.x and life in general if he'd ever known of his audience? And how would he have coped with body functions and s.e.x and life in general if he'd ever known of his audience? She wasn't sure if a table this size set for two was more or less ridiculous that it was with just her lonely cutlery. But then, Edeard often was joined by Dinlay for breakfast. All she had were five superefficient staff members to serve her anything she wanted from the bolnut veneer sideboard that was loaded with an authentic Edeard-style breakfast from the Thirty-third Dream. She remembered the later dreams when he'd been properly elected Mayor. He and Kristabel had never had breakfasts like that, but then, he'd never taken up residence in the state rooms then, either. Perhaps the palace staff members were being ironic; if so, the nuance was lost on her. She wasn't sure if a table this size set for two was more or less ridiculous that it was with just her lonely cutlery. But then, Edeard often was joined by Dinlay for breakfast. All she had were five superefficient staff members to serve her anything she wanted from the bolnut veneer sideboard that was loaded with an authentic Edeard-style breakfast from the Thirty-third Dream. She remembered the later dreams when he'd been properly elected Mayor. He and Kristabel had never had breakfasts like that, but then, he'd never taken up residence in the state rooms then, either. Perhaps the palace staff members were being ironic; if so, the nuance was lost on her.

Just to be difficult, she ordered a hot chocolate to have with her croissant. One of the girls in a maid's uniform scurried off to the kitchens. As she tore the pastry open, Araminta reflected on how it would be nice to have someone there for company. She was a little sad that Cressida hadn't been in touch, but she could certainly understand why her cousin wanted nothing to do with her.

Her chocolate arrived in a huge cup, the top covered in whipped cream dotted with strawberry marshmallows. Darraklan walked in with the maid; he'd taken to wearing the long burgundy waistcoat, white shirt, and yellow drosilk cravat of the senior Orchard Palace personnel. He'd slipped very easily into the job of chief of staff, helping her settle in. "Good morning, Dreamer; Cleric Rincenso requests a moment of your time."

Araminta noticed that Darraklan didn't have any gaiafield emission relating to the Cleric whatsoever. But then, in his own repellent a.s.s-kissing way, Rincenso was also striving hard for favored status. She could use that; he'd want to score points by exposing any of his colleagues who doubted or schemed against her.

"Show him in," she said.

The Cleric came into the dining room as the corona of Querencia's sun erupted with flares all across the ceiling. The bright rippling light shining off his robes and highlighting his eager smile had an almost aquatic property. He bowed politely. "Dreamer."

Araminta gazed at him as she sipped her chocolate. It was delicious. Thank Ozzie, being a galaxy killer should have some perks, surely Thank Ozzie, being a galaxy killer should have some perks, surely. "Did you find them for me?"

"Yes, Dreamer. The women were at the mansion on Viotia. He was actually already here; our security services have been holding him."

"Why?"

Rincenso's smile became stretched. "It was thought he might be shielding you from our Welcome Team."

"Ah. He wasn't. I eluded them by myself." A pause for emphasis. "It wasn't that difficult."

"Not for you, Dreamer."

He was so smooth, he almost spoiled the taste of the chocolate for her. "Is he here now?"

"Yes."

"Bring him in."

Rincenso hesitated. "Dreamer, he was interrogated interrogated very thoroughly." very thoroughly."

"Thoroughly? You mean ..." She didn't like to dwell on that too much. I make a truly rotten despot I make a truly rotten despot.

"He was given a memory read, yes."

"Honious! Bring him in."

The man led through the dining room doors, who needed to be supported by a burly security guard in a constable's uniform, had the body of Likan, but the spirit was definitely withered. Any lingering anger she felt toward him was immediately banished. She got up and pulled out the chair next to her. The security guard helped him into it. There was no evidence of any physical damage, but his limbs were shaking badly, and he hunched up as if he were cowering from some omnipresent tormentor.

"I'm sorry," Araminta said. "I didn't know."

"You," he said with a bitter snarl. "There was always something about you."

"You were quite the personality yourself."

"That's not what you told me when we parted." He glared around the big room. "That's on record now. You know I'm telling the truth."

"They will give all the copies back to you. I wish it to be so," she said with simple authority. Rincenso nodded discreetly. "You can destroy them if you'd like."

"Ha. And what use will that be when the boundary comes reaching out of the stars to obliterate all of us?"

"A question I'm sure you asked yourself when you facilitated Viotia's compliance with Conservator Ethan's scheme. That whole monstrous invasion was dedicated to one purpose: to find me. What did you think the Second Dreamer was going to do once I ascended to the Orchard Palace?"

He forced his head to shake despite the jerkiness of his muscles.

"Like all nonbelievers, you considered us to be foolish and deluded," she continued. "You put your own greed before anything."

"I do not let greed drive me. I have strategy. I have logic and planning."

"Likan ... I'm not interested. Whatever there was between us is long gone. You're here today to correct an injustice."

"I f.u.c.k your apology all the way to h.e.l.l. I hope the warrior Raiel blows your Pilgrimage fleet to s.h.i.t. The rest of us will have the greatest party history has ever known to celebrate your death."

"I'm not apologizing for your interrogation; you brought that upon yourself."

"Yeah? Well, I'm going to plead with the Raiel to turn you over to the Prime. And we all know what they do to humans, don't we?"

She could feel billions urging him on, hoping his desire succeeded. "I'm prepared to let you go free," she said.

"What?"

"Free to go back to Viotia, perhaps? Our wormhole will be closing today or tomorrow now that all my followers have returned home. Free for the Viotia authorities to question you about your part in the government's corrupt submission to Cleric Phelim and the invasion-oh, Phelim's coming back to Ellezelin and joining the Pilgrimage fleet. Who will that leave to face trial, do you think? And I will look favorably on any request to turn over your read memories to them for examination. What evidence of treason will that turn up?"

His whole body juddered. "You said ..."

"I said I'd like to release you. But there is an injustice to right first, one that only you can do."

"b.i.t.c.h!"