Professor Harris stalked back to the display screen and brought up the next image.

"And what of this?" he demanded.

The room fell silent. The picture showed an arch, exactly like the ones that had first appeared on Earth all those centuries ago, the arches that formed the network that had allowed humanity to escape and spread out into the cosmos, and whose mechanisms had been back-engineered to provide engines for ships like the Ameline, who could take short cuts within the network because they weren't tied to its labyrinthine routing.

The Dho shuffled forward a few steps.

"As we fled The Recollection, we found traces of other races, younger races, and we knew we could not leave them defenceless. So we constructed the arch network to help them spread out across the stars, in the hope that some of them might escape the horror that followed us. For we knew The Recollection would never give up its pursuit. We knew it would never forget about us or grow weary. We knew it was coming."

The Dho turned to face the crowd.

"And now, it is almost upon us."

The meeting dissolved into uproar. Arguments broke out between scientists. People rose to their feet, yelling questions and accusations. Some wanted to get to the Dho, but the Acolytes had formed a circle around the creature, shielding it.

"If you can build the arches," the woman beside Toby shouted, "why do you travel in this?" She waved her arms to encompass the bulk of the crystal Ark.

The Dho's head swivelled in her direction. When it spoke, its voice silenced the room.

"Our species is uncomfortable in hyperspace," it croaked. "We find the transition disorientating and often fatal. That is why we must rely on our Acolytes to talk for us on all the settled worlds of human space."

It raised its head and the light caught on the bony sheen of its four horns.

"When we ran from The Recollection, we seeded the space behind us with probes, to monitor its progress. Like us, it moves at speeds slower than light. It has been a thousand years, but we have at last received the signal we have been dreading. The Recollection approaches human space. Already the darkness will have befallen the world you call Djatt. Others will soon follow."

Toby leapt like he'd been electrocuted.

"Djatt?" He elbowed his way forward through the crowd, ignoring indignant protests. Harris moved to intercept him.

"Calm down, lad."

"Let me go!" Toby tried to shake the older man off, but the gnarled fingers were stronger than they looked.

"You knew!" Toby waved an accusing finger at the Dho. "And still you let her go!"

The circle of Acolytes drew tighter around the alien creature, which shivered. The bulges squirmed under its black robe.

"We were not sure," it said. "We suspected, but it was only hours ago that our suspicions were confirmed."

Toby stopped struggling. "Is she in danger?"

The creature bowed its head. "She will be protected by the pendant given to her by our Acolyte, Mr Hind."

"But what is the cloud?" Harris thundered in frustration, all semblance of patience lost after five years of painstaking and frustrating work. "What is this Recollection?"

The Acolytes moved and the Dho stepped forward. It spoke in a voice so loud Toby felt it in his bowels.

"The Recollection is darkness and hunger. It is a cancer gnawing at the bones of the galaxy. None of you can stand against it."

The creature paused, its laboured breathing the only sound in the room.

"It is a tsunami of unspeakable horror, and it will swamp your defences and drown your souls. It cannot be defeated, appeased or bargained with, and it will scour all the life from your planets."

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

PHANTOM LIMB SYNDROME.

Katherine Abdulov woke in a hospital bed, in a private room with no windows and a police guard on the door. The walls, ceiling and floor were a soothing shade of green. The sheets smelled of disinfectant, and a surgeon stood by the far wall, arms crossed, watching her.

"How do you feel?"

She smacked her lips a couple of times and swallowed.

"Where am I?"

"You're safe. There are guards on the door. No-one's going to get to you here. Don't try to move. You're still on Vertebrae Beach, in hospital. My name's Doctor Misaki. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Kat gave a weak nod. Misaki smiled.

"That's good. Now, can you remember why you're here?"

She frowned. Her thoughts were as woolly and cumbersome as clouds, and she had a bone-deep ache in her right arm. "There was an accident?"

The surgeon uncrossed his arms. He glanced at the guard on the door.

"I'm afraid it's more serious than that. Three days ago, you were caught in a bomb attack. You're lucky to be alive."

Kat tried to sit up but found she lacked the strength.

"What happened?" she said.

Doctor Misaki stepped over to the bed. He looked to be somewhere in his early thirties. "You were on the observation deck of the Ticonderoga when a bomb went off. It wasn't a big bang, but against the outer wall, it was enough. The window was old and weak and it gave way. Luckily, the ship's automatic pressure seals worked, or we might have lost the whole dome, and everyone in it."

Kat lifted her head. "But I was with someone. Enid Abdulov. She'd hurt her leg. What happened to her?"

Misaki's fingertips eased her back against the pillow.

"Don't try to get up," he said.

"But Enid..."

The doctor scratched his forehead, his face pained. "Look Katherine, we've already had this conversation three times. It's the anaesthetics. They'll wear off soon."

"Just tell me she's all right."

Misaki drew back. "I can't, I'm sorry."

Kat struggled. "She's dead?"

The doctor put a friendly hand on her shoulder.

"Try not to upset yourself."

"No-"

"If it's any consolation, you did all you could. The people who dragged you clear said you were still reaching back through the airlock when the room sealed itself." He took a deep breath, preparing to impart more bad news. "As a matter of fact, that's how you hurt your arm."

"My arm?"

Kat watched as, slowly, Misaki peeled back the crisp white sheet.

"When the airlock door slammed shut, it severed your left arm just above the elbow. We saved what we could, but..." He finished sliding the sheet down, revealing two black struts protruding from the loose sleeve of her hospital nightgown. For a disorientating moment she couldn't understand what she saw, and then it all clicked into place and she felt the room sway drunkenly around her.

"We can grow you a new arm from stem cells," Misaki said, "but it will take some months to fully mature. In the meantime, we've given you this prosthetic."

He took the arm and gently raised it off the bed. The black struts she'd seen were bones carved from black carbon fibre, light and strong. As they moved, tiny servo motors hissed and clicked in the elbow, wrist and finger joints.

"There are pressure sensors in the palm here and here, and on the tip of each finger," Misaki said, touching each in turn, his fingers producing an unfamiliar tickling sensation. Kat jerked the arm away. She turned it back and forth, examining it. She didn't dare roll her sleeve high enough to see where it had been grafted to her flesh.

"It hurts."

"Where?"

"All over."

Misaki gave a sympathetic nod. "You may get phantom pains as your brain adjusts to the loss of your limb."

Kat screwed her eyes tight. She didn't want to look at it any more.

Oh Enid, I'm so sorry.

She rolled away from the pain until she faced the wall. Behind her, Misaki continued to talk but she wasn't really listening. Her concentration came and went. She felt cold and raw inside, and her thoughts were slippery and hard to pin down. The disinfectant smell of the hospital sheets reminded her of the day Victor walked out on her: of the operation, and the baby...

Eventually, the reassuring words dried up. She heard Misaki turn to leave.

"Why am I so calm?" she said.

He stopped, half-turned.

"It's the drugs, Katherine."

"Drugs?"

"We've been keeping you pretty heavily sedated for the past seventy hours. You've had a shock. Lie back. You need time to recuperate." He gave her a final sideways glance, then stepped past the armed guard, out into the corridor.

"Try to get some rest," he called as he hurried away. "You'll feel better."

Alone, Kat closed her eyes.

"Screw you," she said.

An hour later, wearing her coat draped over her shoulders, her new arm held tight to her chest like a sling, Kat stepped unsteadily from the floating jetty to the Ameline's rear airlock. One of the coat's arms was ripped, torn off just above the elbow. The fresh wind blew through her hair. Both the ship and the jetty moved on the ocean swell, and the unfamiliar weight of the prosthetic arm unbalanced her.

As soon as both her feet were aboard, she closed the outer airlock door and strode forth through the echoing cargo hold toward the bridge at the ship's bow. Passing through the passenger lounge, her eyes lingered for a second on the couch so recently occupied by Toby Drake. What would he think if he could see her now, like this? Climbing the ladder to the flight deck, she screwed her eyes tight. She still couldn't bring herself to look at the black alloy struts of her new hand.

> Girl, you look terrible.

Her lips twitched. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity of it all. She clenched her teeth.

"Get your systems fired up, we're leaving."

> Are you sure you can fly? My records show you discharged yourself against the advice of your surgeon.

Kat shrugged off her coat and tossed it over the back of the co-pilot's couch.

"He was an asshole."

> But still, you've been under sedation. Are you fit to fly?

"Do you want to stay here?"

The ship gave an electronic snort.

> Have you any idea what this salt water's doing to the underside of my hull?

"You've been waterproofed."

> Thirty years ago. That stuff wears off, you know.

Kat stepped onto the bridge. "Well, we're leaving now," she said.

> For Djatt?

"Where else?"

> You know Victor blew out of here three days ago?

Kat settled herself into the pilot's chair. "We'll catch him."

> He left something behind.