17286 MOD3 by davidandrew12

The Matter of

Dark Book 3

The Ashes of Stars

The Matter of

Dark

a trilogy and epilogue by Colin Stewart

Book I

Journey to Zero

Book II Strangers and Adventurers Book III The Ashes of Stars Book IV The Voyage of the Silver Star

a story of mystery, danger … and the power of friendship

The Matter of

Dark Book 3

The Ashes of Stars

Colin Stewart

Elsbury Books

IIlustrations by

Rachel Labovitch

First published in 2026 by Elsbury Books, Studio 108820 PO Box 4336, Manchester M61 0BW, UK elsburybooks@belerion.co.uk All rights reserved No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means without the prior permission of the publisher © Colin Stewart 2026 © Illustrations and Cover Artwork Rachel Labovitch 2026 The right of Colin Stewart to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental A CIP catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library ISBN 978-1-7392291-4-6 Typeset and printed by Beamreach Printing, Cheshire, UK

My Thanks to Tim and Ramona Wilson Tom Jacobson Sarah and Oscar Fitzharding Rachel Labovitch David Exley for all their kind help with this book

Awg’s Map of Zero was redrawn by Ramona Wilson v

One

Bob Harris is a window cleaner. He is twenty-six years old and, sadly, he is never going to get to be twenty-seven. And the time he isn’t going to get to it is one minute and thirteen seconds from now. At this moment, Bob is outside the Science Museum in London. He is just about to clean the first of one hundred and ninety six windows on this part of the building. Standing on a small platform suspended by ropes and pulleys, he has just unclipped his safety harness in order to reach a squeegee brush which has dropped out of his belt. As he bends down to pick it up, he gets a particularly clear view through the window of the museum. The gallery inside is devoted to the measurement of time. It contains all manner of devices from sundials and Egyptian water clocks to classic Rolexes and digital watches. Something very odd is happening in front of one of the display cases. This particular exhibit focuses on historically important timepieces of the eighteenth century. Bob cannot of course make out this degree of detail. What he notices is that there seems to be a disturbance in the air. Bob can see to either side of it quite clearly but in the centre everything is distorted, like he is looking through a fog or a dense heat haze. As he watches, the blurry area seems to be getting brighter. It is actually beginning to glow. Bob has eleven seconds of his life left. A blinding green glare bursts out towards him. Shock. As he involuntarily steps backwards, he catches a glimpse of a dark and hooded figure silhouetted against the brilliance. It is the 1

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last image he will ever see. His left foots slips over the rear edge of the platform and he falls backwards. Bob grabs the side rail but his hand is soapy from the squeegee and slips off. He tries to steady himself, but fails. Bob weighs one hundred and seventy pounds and he falls ninety feet. By the time he hits the pavement below, gravitational acceleration has caused him to reach a speed of fifty-two miles per hour and develop sufficient kinetic energy to power a small bomb. Since stone pavements are unyielding in their hardness and inflexibility, all this energy is dissipated in reducing Bob’s body to a mess that it is better not to look at. * And so it was that the very first casualty on Earth of this war occurred entirely by accident. The hooded figure had no suspicion that his final journey home had brought about a death. Such a misfortune would have troubled him deeply because he was a wise and kindly man who wished to harm no one. As far as planet Earth was concerned, this was a very strange war indeed. Only nine of its inhabitants ever knew it was actually taking place and yet, if things were to go badly, not a single one of the billions who lived there would survive.

Two

Benedict sat cross-legged on the floor. He knew it was best not to try and get up again for a while. His body felt stiff and sore, and he had a raging thirst. Looking around, he felt fairly sure that his experiment had worked. Not that he had ever been in this building before – he had not. But Awg had told him about it, and he had taken the risk. Eventually, he felt well enough to stand. At first he could not bear to look, so conflicting were his feelings. Then he steeled himself and gazed into the display case. And there it was, just as he had imagined. He remembered the toil and the care that had gone into the making, and how he had put the very best of himself into the task. He remembered the week it was finished, and getting up each morning at dawn to check the working of the mechanism. And there in the background to the display was his own name written alongside those of the great masters he had long admired and respected: Tompion, Mudge, Harrison in England; Martinot and the Thurets in Paris. Something he himself had made was considered important enough to be preserved in a great museum for men and women and children to come and see. He read the printed description: Brother Benedict’s Clock Llangarreg, Wales, 1768 3

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This is one of three surviving ‘Monk’s Clocks’ from Llangarreg known to have been made by the founder himself. Benedict established the manufactory in 1732 and oversaw the making of clocks until the fire of 1776 which ended production. This example has a unique temperature compensation mechanism and is still accurate to within a quarter of a minute per month.

Almost right, he thought to himself. I made the movement and the case, but Brother James painted the face for me. He was always the best draughtsman, and the most artistic. I wonder what happened to him – to them all, when their livelihood was destroyed? What must they have thought of me – I, who vanished without trace? He stared at the clock. So many memories. And now it had come into his life once again, providing an anchor for the end of this long journey. His last journey. A noise from below brought him sharply back to the present. And the present was early morning. People were arriving for work. Very soon, museum staff would be getting the building ready for opening. To be suddenly thrown into an unfamiliar time and place was unnerving – but Benedict had been in situations like this before. He knew what to do – and mainly that meant making yourself as inconspicuous as possible. You needed time to blend yourself into the new environment and avoid making mistakes that would attract attention. For the moment, the most important thing was a hiding place. He had to wait for the safety of the crowds. And then he needed some luck. At the far end of the gallery was a door marked ‘Private’. That looked promising. It was, of course, locked. Benedict unlaced a pocket concealed within the folds of his gown. The habits which form the traditional clothing of monks do not as a rule have pockets. Benedict had sewn this one himself. Normally, it served to contain the large hourglass with which he travelled. At present, it also stored the small stock of useful

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items provided by a young technician friend of his. (And yes, the friend did have eight limbs.) Benedict took out a small metal rod and held it against the lock. The tip of the rod appeared to melt away, a ribbon of grey metal flowing into the keyhole. In a few moments, the flow ceased and Benedict twisted the rod. There was a sharp click, and the handle turned easily. Benedict found himself in a long corridor running behind the public part of the gallery. Half way along was a drinking fountain. Benedict wetted his parched lips. Then he drank very slowly, knowing that otherwise he would choke. There were several offices, all fortunately empty. Someone had left a biscuit and a half-eaten banana on one of the desks. Benedict considered. He was getting to be very hungry but the food was not his. On the other hand, it would almost certainly be thrown away when the cleaners came in and that would be wasteful. He decided. At the end of the corridor was a door labelled EMERGENCY EXIT. It was not locked. A series of bare stone stairways led downwards past similar doors on each floor. On the bottom flight Benedict sat down, ate the brown banana and the biscuit, and waited for the streets outside to fill with people. He surveyed his escape route. The final door held an extra piece of information: EMERGENCY EXIT – PUSH THE BAR. AN ALARM WILL SOUND. Benedict took a small coil of impulse-cancelling silver wire from his pocket and wound it around the end of the bar. He opened the door. No alarm sounded. Benedict found himself at the rear of the building, amongst the bins. The area was deserted apart from a lorry backing down to one of the delivery points. Feeling uncomfortably noticeable, he walked quickly around the corner and up the service road to the main street. The museum front entrance was already busy and Benedict gratefully lost himself in the throng of visitors outside. Two nuns went past, talking together and almost bumping into

The Matter of Dark

an Indian woman in a colourful sari coming the other way. Benedict at last began to relax. Perhaps a monk in a black robe would not look so out of place here. But he had important work to do and he needed to make a start. It wasn’t easy. It was the speed of the traffic that unnerved him most. He had been prepared for the huge size of everything and the hectic activity of the streets. That much he had witnessed before. But the number of vehicles and the speed with which they roared by was terrifying. ‘Are you all right, Father?’ Benedict spun around. He gaped at the black uniform in horror. He had never seen a London policeman before, but it was obvious that the man was some city official and the very last thing he wanted was to attract the attention of the authorities. ‘Yes – quite all right, thank you.’ ‘It’s just that – you look a bit lost, sir. Where do you need to get to?’ It seemed that this encounter might actually be helpful. ‘I was on my way to Lambeth Palace, but I can’t quite get my bearings. I haven’t been here for a long time and I’m not used to all these carriages.’ ‘You’d be best to take the Tube, sir. Just walk along the tunnel to South Kensington station.’ Benedict was alarmed by the words ‘tube’ and ‘tunnel’. They did not sound at all safe. ‘Couldn’t I walk? Just show me how to get to the river and I think I can manage.’ ‘It’s quite a way, sir – but if that’s what you’d prefer. You’re in Exhibition Road now, so just keep on going in the same direction as the road and eventually you’ll get to the river. Then bear to your left until you get to Lambeth Bridge. Just cross that and the Palace is on your left.’ ‘You mean there’s a bridge there now? I’m most relieved. That old horse ferry was so slow – and quite dangerous when the river was running. Thank you.’

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It is fair to say that the policeman seemed baffled by this reply.

Three

It took Benedict over an hour to reach the river. This was partly because of the difficulty of weaving through a labyrinth of unfamiliar streets, partly because of his terror of the traffic – but mostly because of his utter amazement at the sights of a great city on Earth in the twentieth century. Pausing at the rack of newspapers outside a shop in the Kings Road, he checked the date and breathed a sigh of relief. Just about where he wanted to be. A serious error could not have been corrected. Eventually, he came to Lambeth Bridge and began to cross. The river seemed much narrower than he remembered. There were so many fine buildings along its length, and he could recognise hardly any of them. He turned downriver and walked round to the gatehouse of the Palace. Benedict had two things uppermost in his mind. Firstly, he had to find some way to get in and talk to the Archbishop. Secondly, he had absolutely no idea how he was going to do it. Officialdom in a grey uniform barred his way. ‘Good morning sir. Have you come for the ‘Action on Poverty’ meeting?’ Benedict thought for a moment. This was never going to be easy. Here was a possible way in – and if he said ‘No’ he’d probably not even get past the gate. But it wasn’t true and he didn’t like lies. ‘Yes, that’s it. Thank you.’ ‘Can I just check your briefcase sir? Security, I’m afraid.’ ‘I don’t have a briefcase. There’s just me.’ ‘That’s all right, sir. Through the archway, into the courtyard, 8

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and then the second large door on the right. There’s a big notice outside – you can’t miss it.’ The large door led into a spacious hallway. Tables were set out with rows of folders on them. To each folder was attached a lapel badge and the tables were labelled ‘A to E’, ‘F to J’, and so on. Behind each table sat an administrator with a list of the delegates expected. They all looked up as Benedict entered. So did everyone else in the room. They were all wearing dark suits. Benedict kept his nerve. He walked briskly over to the first table. ‘Brother Benedict,’ he said. ‘Surname?’ ‘Benedict – of Llangarreg.’ The woman behind the table gave him a quizzical look and consulted her list. ‘I’m afraid that there’s no one of that name here. Which organisation do you represent?’ Benedict stood motionless, at a loss for what to say. He had little practice at deceit. ‘Did someone mention Llangarreg?’ A man in an ecclesiastical collar came over to them. He had a roll of sticky tape in one hand and was attempting unsuccessfully to restrain a small avalanche of drawing pins cascading from the other. ‘Can I help? I was putting up the service sheet for the Chapel when I thought I heard someone say the name Llangarreg.’ ‘Yes, I did,’ said Benedict. ‘Do you know it?’ ‘I know of it. Priory – dependency of the Benedictine Abbey at Shrewsbury. Founded in the 12th century, dissolved by Henry VIII. I had an uncle who spent his retirement going round all the old places. He always remembered Llangarreg because he saw a ghost there. Dined out on the story for years.’ It took Benedict a considerable effort to conceal his surprise. ‘I should be most interested to hear about it,’ he said. The clergyman looked embarrassed and glanced at his watch.

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Benedict reacted quickly. He could not afford to miss this opportunity. ‘I know you must be extremely busy – but I assure you that I have a good reason for asking.’ ‘Then let’s go to my office where it’s quieter – but I need to be in the Chapel by eleven. My name is Christopher Langton and I am the Archbishop’s chaplain.’ The chaplain’s office was wood-panelled and rather dark and stuffy. Benedict sat on the edge of a green armchair in front of the chaplain’s desk and listened. ‘This is what happened – or, at least, how Uncle told the story. He was a churchman too, by the way – vicar of Down Astley in Gloucestershire. ‘He said he was spending an afternoon looking around the ruins. He was inside the chapel – when all of a sudden a figure appeared out of thin air. Well, naturally, it gave him a bit of a turn and he came over faint. Whereupon this figure enquired if he was all right and sat him down against the wall to recover. When he looked up again, the place was empty.’ ‘Did he describe what the apparition looked like?’ asked Benedict. ‘Said he was dressed as a monk and was carrying an hourglass.’ Benedict stood up, threw back his hood and reached into the pocket of his habit. ‘Like this one, perhaps?’ The chaplain went completely white. ‘Oh my God!’ ‘No. Just a very old and very tired disciple of St Benedict who learned by accident to travel through time and space. But I do have something of the very greatest importance to say to the Archbishop. That is why I have come.’ The chaplain wondered if he was going to wake up soon. But the room and its contents seemed familiar and solid enough. He took a deep breath. ‘Is it really important?’

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‘I would not have risked such a hazardous journey if it were not.’ The chaplain reached for the telephone. ‘I’m not able to speak to Dr Hughes directly, but I can try his personal assistant.’ The old black telephone was loud and crackly, and Benedict was able to hear both sides of the conversation. ‘Anne – I know today is very full – but I have someone here who needs to see the Archbishop urgently.’ ‘Yes – they all do. Really, Christopher, I cannot cut swathes through Dr Hughes’ diary to accommodate another of these crackpots. I made time for the Eleventh Day Satanists. I listened patiently to the woman who heard the trees telling her to plough up the State of Arizona and turn it into a bee farm. And what happened to the Sons and Daughters of Death? They never even showed up for the appointment.’ ‘No, I think they all committed suicide. But this is different. Listen … ’ * In a distant room in Lambeth Palace, Archbishop Geoffrey Hughes picked up the telephone. ‘Good morning, Anne.’ ‘Archbishop, I’m afraid that we have to rearrange your appointments for today. I have a monk here who needs to talk to you about the End of the World … ’

The Matter of Dark

Four

The Archbishop sat with his hands folded in his lap. Outwardly, he appeared entirely calm. Only his eyes betrayed his anxiety: the anxiety of being left alone with someone who may be a dangerous madman. He trusted his chaplain’s judgement, but all the same … Benedict in turn surveyed the face before him. It was kindly, but possessed of a fierce intelligence. That was good. This was no time for grey platitudes and polite but meaningless conversation. If only the Archbishop would have sufficient patience to hear him out. ‘Your Grace, it is very kind of you to see me. I assure you that I should not be here unless it were a matter of the utmost gravity. It concerns the future of the world we live in – in fact, the very survival of that world. ‘You will find what I have to say quite extraordinary. I will leave you to judge my sincerity and my sanity. But I swear to you that everything I tell you is true.’ Benedict paused, looking for some sign of acceptance. ‘Please go on. My mind is quite open.’ Benedict continued. ‘I will be as brief as I can, although some background must be sketched in. I was born in the year 1361. At the age of seventeen, I was accepted as a novice in Shrewsbury Abbey. After I was professed, I was sent to join the community at Llangarreg priory. ‘Part of our ceremonial in summer was to maintain vigil on the mountain at night. During one of these nights of prayer I was assailed by a stone falling from the heavens and swept out

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of the world. At first, I believed that I had been sent to Hell for my sins, for I found myself in an alien domain surrounded by strange creatures, although some of these possessed a form similar to that of men. ‘They treated me well and, in time, we learned to communicate with each other. I discovered that these creatures were thinking beings like myself, but with technical capabilities beyond anything I could ever have imagined. Their dwelling was a planet which they had named Zero. In turn, they began to seek my advice on problems of everyday life, and I myself became respected for my judgement. ‘In due course, I attempted to return to my original home. I succeeded in terms of place but at a later time. So I reappeared in Llangarreg in the 18th century and became Brother Benedict the clockmaker. But our workshop was destroyed by a storm in 1776 and I was nearly burned to death.’ Up to this point, the Archbishop had gradually been letting his mind wander away from the detail of Benedict’s story. He had heard many similar, delusional tales before. But now he caught his breath as Benedict pulled up the sleeves of his robe to show horrific scars on both his arms. The Archbishop began to listen more intently. ‘In the inferno, I was driven from the Earth again and found myself once more on planet Zero. The people cared for me and healed by wounds, and so I determined to make my home there with my new friends. In the intervening years, I have returned occasionally to Llangarreg – sometimes, I regret to say, unintentionally alarming people when I did so.’ ‘Where is this … planet Zero?’ asked the Archbishop. ‘Is it known to Earth’s astronomers?’ ‘No it is not, for it is not in Earth’s Universe. It is in what to you is the Dark World, a Universe of dark matter undetectable from Earth except by the force of its gravity. For Zero, the reverse is true and it is the Earth’s Universe which is invisible.’ ‘My dear friend,’ said the Archbishop. ‘Stop and consider for a moment. Please understand how difficult it is for me to

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accept the truth of what you say – that you have travelled to an invisible planet in some alternative universe. How many people could believe such a thing? And what of the threat – this catastrophe that Christopher alluded to?’ ‘Again I will be brief. For many years, the scientists on Zero have been aware that their planet – and many of those nearby – are dying. Their suns are old and nearing the end of their lives. Zero itself is heating up and beginning to lose its atmosphere. But recently they found that the process was far more complex than anyone had realised. And then it was discovered to be more than a local phenomenon. At first we believed that it was only other galaxies in our own world which were involved – but now we have become aware of a threat to Earth’s domain as well. We are facing the prospect of destruction both for Zero’s galaxy and for worlds elsewhere.’ ‘And this includes our own planet?’ asked Archbishop Hughes, in amazement. ‘Yes. But not only the Earth itself. It is your whole Universe which could be destroyed.’ * There was a very long silence before the Archbishop replied. ‘Are you seriously suggesting that our entire Universe may be about to end?’ ‘I’m afraid so – yes. They sent me to warn you. They thought that somebody ought to know.’ ‘But can nothing be done to prevent this?’ ‘By your people, nothing. There is absolutely nothing that you can do. However, it is just possible that the people of Zero may be able to find a solution. That is what they also wish me to tell you – that they will do all they can. So there is hope. But they are not optimistic. The problem is too huge, even for them – although their resources are unimaginably vast by your standards.’ ‘And why is it you that they have sent?’

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‘For two reasons. Firstly, the journey at this present time was extremely dangerous – but I volunteered. At least I myself had some previous experience. But I regret to say that there is also a deeper reason.’ The Archbishop caught the note of contrition in his voice. But nothing prepared him for Benedict’s confession. ‘I am the cause of the catastrophe.’

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Five

The Archbishop seriously considered making a dash for the door. Things were getting out of hand. But perhaps he should avoid antagonising his clearly deranged guest and play for time. He contented himself with a short protest. ‘It is impossible.’ ‘No. I wish it were. But I am the link between the two worlds. The Zeroians discovered the Earth’s Universe because of me. And because they discovered it – and made use of it in their technology – they made it vulnerable to the same fate as themselves. Rather worse than themselves, in fact.’ There was another long silence. ‘But why did you come to me?’ ‘We felt that someone should be told, and considered many options: leading politicians, the military, academic experts, and so on. In the end, we decided that none of these groups had the far-sightedness to deal with such a burden, and our news might cause only hurt or misfortune. There was also the possibility of complete disbelief, and our uncertainty over the timescale seemed likely to cause further scepticism. ‘And what is the timescale?’ asked the Archbishop quietly. ‘Do you have children?’ said Benedict. ‘Yes – a son and a daughter.’ ‘We think – within their lifetime.’ There was a sharp intake of breath, followed by a moment of silence. ‘Can you prove any of this?’ ‘Not directly, but I can show you a small example of Zeroian

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technology which may go some way towards convincing you.’ Benedict took from his pocket a series of black glass discs. ‘You will not find anything on your own planet to equal these. Hold each one to your eye against the light. In them you will see – in great detail – my home on Zero, our cities, our leader the Patrician and his daughter Asa, our diverse peoples, and finally some of those few from Earth who have also made the same journey as myself.’ Dr Hughes took the discs one by one. At first he gasped in amazement or cried out in shock. Then, as he looked at the strange images, he grew more and more silent. Until he came to the last of them. ‘But one of these is just a boy!’ he exclaimed. ‘And he has his arm around a thing like a giant spider!’ ‘Yes, they are great friends. Friendship is a wonderful thing, and it is truly universal. A being of similar form, Xurog, is the leader of our scientific community. The Archbishop sank back in his chair. ‘Will there be comets in the sky, and earthquakes, and all that sort of thing? You know, weeping and wailing and … ’ ‘No. There won’t be time for any of that,’ answered Benedict. ‘As far as I understand there will be no warning whatever and the whole thing will be over in less than one second.’ ‘Like the Big Bang – but in reverse.’ ‘Exactly, I’m afraid. But we felt it our duty to let someone know in advance. So in the end we decided to identify somebody who was learned, wise, intelligent, compassionate and with no axe to grind – and tell them.’ ‘Me?’ ‘You.’ ‘What do you wish me to do?’ ‘Think, consider, pray; talk with anyone who you judge will understand and can be trusted to do good and not harm.’ Archbishop Hughes sat with his chin propped in his hands. Today had started as a fairly normal day and by ten-thirty he was contemplating the end of the world.

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* ‘Are you going back, now – to Zero, I mean?’ asked the Archbishop. ‘No, I’m not going to return. I’m very tired and I don’t think I could survive another journey. In any case, there’s nothing more I can do there. I’m not going back again. ‘I have a second important call to make, and then I shall find my way to Llangarreg. If anywhere is my true home, it is there.’ ‘This other call – is it in London?’ ‘I have to take news to a young friend of mine. You saw his picture a few moments ago.’ ‘So he – this boy – has also both travelled to Zero and returned to Earth?’ ‘Yes. About a year ago in Earth’s reckoning. He has little idea of the peril I spoke of – but I must tell him of it. He lives in a place called Strenton. Do you know how I can get there?’ ‘On that point, at least, I can do something. If you have in truth come across time and space to see me, it would be a poor thing indeed if I could not help you a mere few miles further upon your way.’ ‘What are you going to do about what I have told you?’ ‘I am not yet sure. I shall think carefully, and of course pray for guidance. Incidentally, in all your travels you haven’t seen … ?’ ‘Sadly, no.’ ‘I thought not. Did you ask any of the beings you encountered?’ ‘No,’ said Benedict. ‘They wouldn’t understand. The concept is unknown to them. That’s why they haven’t had so many wars.’ ‘Ummm … I see.’ Benedict decided to ask something that had been on his mind for a while: a thought which reached back into his distant past, when such things had been his concern each and every day. It seemed a good opportunity to get an authoritative opinion.

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‘I was just thinking … isn’t He going to be a bit upset about the whole Universe going up in smoke? Or do you think it is His will and the world has got so full of greed and cruelty that it’s sinking under the weight? I just wonder if, as far as humans are concerned, He has given us up.’ ‘What! Abandoned His creation?’ ‘You see, perhaps He’s looked at what a mess we’ve made of everything: squandering His gifts and spending our time killing one another, and just said hang it all, let them get on with it.’ ‘What about His infinite mercy?’ ‘Perhaps it isn’t that infinite.’ ‘Then, do you think that what you have told me might be His way of drawing a line under it all so that He can start afresh somewhere else?’ It was Benedict’s turn to be surprised. ‘I hadn’t thought of it like that,’ he said. ‘But I suppose it’s a distinct possibility.’

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Six

‘Anything this morning?’ asked Robo. ‘Nope.’ ‘That makes five weeks then.’ Awg took a notebook from his pocket and scanned through it. ‘Five weeks exactly.’ The notebook contained almost a year’s worth of messages from one of Awg’s friends. Along with Robo, probably his best friend. But whereas Robo was at that moment sitting just across the table in the same room, Zert was a lot further away. ‘Perhaps it’s knackered. You’ve not worn it in the shower again, have you?’ ‘No I bloody well haven’t! I forgot just that once, that’s all. Anyway, it dried out OK. It never actually stopped.’ What they were talking about was a watch. This was no ordinary watch. Well, to be strictly accurate, it had been an ordinary watch when Awg bought it from a local shop. But its ordinariness had ended abruptly on planet Zero when it was taken apart and reassembled by a particularly clever trainee technician (Zert, of course). It now represented their only means of communication. The messages you could send were very short because the technology it relied on was experimental. To be truthful, ‘experimental’ is overstating the degree of sophistication. ‘Definitely dodgy’ would be closer. This was largely due to the fact that the planet Zero was in a different Universe.

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Awg put the notebook on the table and flipped back the pages. ‘Look. Here’s the very first message I sent.’ 4 November: H O M E S A F E ‘And we got a reply nine Earth days later.’ 13 November: G H I T O J W O R K I N G H A R D Z (A ‘translation’ would read that Gary (Robo’s father) sends greetings to his son (real name Jonathan) and is getting down to work – message sent by Zert.) Although the main reason for Awg’s second visit to Zero had been to find and rescue Robo’s father, Gary had not in the end returned home with him. He had decided to remain behind to work alongside the Zeroian scientists on the problems facing their dying planet. Most of Zert’s messages had been reports on their progress. But five weeks ago the messages had stopped coming. 14 June: A W A I * E D I C T Z ‘That was the very last one. It doesn’t exactly say much, does it?’ said Awg. ‘Well, you can’t say a lot in about twenty characters a week. If I was stuck with that for Gwen … ’ ‘You’d die of frustration! I know. Let’s check when the messages first started to break up.’ Robo turned over the pages. ‘This is the last complete one. “7 March: N E W L E A D W T S G”. ’ ‘What’s ‘WTS’?’ asked Awg. ‘Watch this space. Typical Dad comment! And I think he must mean ‘lead’ as in ‘breakthrough’ rather than the metal.’ ‘Suppose so. We sent a reply the same day.’ “7 March: T E L L M O R E W E O K H E R E J”. But then we heard nothing until 22 March, and that’s when they stopped transmitting properly.’ 22 March: * E R R I B * V E R Y G ‘I’ve put asterisks where there’s bits missed out,’ continued Awg. ‘But we can’t tell how much. The hand on the watch just thrashed about. Not like when it settled properly on a number

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[1=A … 26=Z]. I tried saying ‘re-send’ but we still got nothing for 2 weeks.’ 5 April: * A N N O * A V O * T * R E A T G ‘After that, all we got were several more odd bits at long intervals, then the 14 June one “A W A I * E D I C T Z”. ‘Well, the first word of that must be ‘await’: nothing else makes sense,’ said Robo. ‘And an edict is an order – a statement. So if it’s ‘await edict’ then we’ve got to hang on until there’s some sort of announcement. But who from?’ ‘No idea. Perhaps we’d know if we could make out more of the earlier stuff.’ ‘I’ve been trying to fool myself that the first word of March 22 isn’t ‘terrible’ – but I can’t think of much else.’ ‘Terrible … recovery?’ ‘Could be. The ‘-very’ bit does seem to be at the end of a word, because you haven’t shown a break between that and the ‘G’. Just try and convince me the message isn’t ‘Terrible Discovery’. The room seemed to have grown very quiet, and suddenly cold. Awg voiced the thoughts of them both. ‘So you mean – one of the last reports is about something bad they’ve discovered – and soon after that, the messages stop.’ ‘That’s about the size of it. Now look at the message we got on the fifth of April. I got hung up on that for ages. I couldn’t get the ‘anno’ bit out of my head because I kept thinking it was something about a year. Stupid – so unlikely! Once I got over that, it was easier. ‘After that, I got fixed on ‘cannon’ for a while. But then I thought the last word had to be ‘threat’. And then the whole thing clicked as ‘cannot avoid threat’. Terrible Discovery. Cannot avoid Threat. Awg felt a bit ashamed of himself. He’d kept hoping for the next message to come and clear up all the unknowns. But all the while Robo had been working away at what they already had. ‘What d’you think’s happening on Zero?’ he asked.

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‘Whatever it is, it’s not good.’ ‘Takeover by Sharibvdl and his crew? Surely that’s impossible? They haven’t got anything like enough power.’ ‘Who knows? That’s the problem. We don’t know what the hell’s going on and we’ve no way of finding out.’

The Matter of Dark

Seven

The Gunners were winning. Awg was Arsenal and Robo was Chelsea, and Chelsea were getting hammered. The live-action soccer game was the best on the market. You worked the players with handles and rods at the side and there were extra features for the goalies, ref and linesmen that operated from each end. To control it all properly you had to be seriously light on your feet, and it was almost as tiring as playing the real thing out on the field. It was definitely more fun than the computer version. Awg’s father had unexpectedly become a millionaire when one of his inventions went ballistic commercially. Since then, their house had been greatly extended. Mr Bradley at last had a proper workshop, Mrs Bradley was given the kitchen of her dreams and the two boys had a large bedroom each. Robo and his father had always been very close, and Robo had been devastated by his dad’s decision to stay behind on planet Zero. With Gary away for months – possibly years – Robo was eventually persuaded to give up the flat they had shared together and move in with Awg and his family. It was the latest of many changes of scene. He had been to five different schools in three different countries. So he quickly settled into the highly eccentric Bradley household. In turn, Awg was glad to have a sort of adopted brother around the house. His parents often forgot he was there at all, and usually he was left almost completely to himself. Whilst this did have advantages, it had actually been quite a lonely life, as Awg was only now beginning to realise.

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The games room had been a special present for the boys. They had been allowed to choose the layout and contents themselves. Mr Bradley, showing remarkable common sense for once, had given them a generous but fixed budget and made it clear that they were expected to stick to it. By mutual agreement (and prolonged argument) they had chosen a widescreen TV and a small stack of video games, a large sofa to sprawl on, a small fridge (for drinks), a snooker table, a mini-gym and the soccer game (which had cost almost as much as the TV). Chelsea had scored twice in the last five minutes and were shaping up for the equaliser. Things were getting very noisy. So Awg and Robo did not hear the ring on the doorbell or the subsequent conversation in the hall. The first they knew of developments outside the Highbury ground was the arrival of a very flustered Mrs Bradley accompanied by two policemen. ‘Jonathan dear, these constables want to ask you some questions.’ The shorter of the two, who was a full sergeant, glared at Mrs Bradley before turning to Robo. ‘It’s about your flat in Marsh Lane. It’s been broken into.’ ‘It isn’t my flat,’ replied Robo. ‘We only rented it, and everything was paid up when I left. It’s nothing to do with me now.’ The sergeant smiled politely, while his companion (who was a constable) tried unsuccessfully to look relaxed. ‘All the same sir, we’d like you to come down to the station and talk to us. If you don’t mind.’ Mrs Bradley didn’t like this at all. Policemen in her house – it was most irregular. She would have liked to ask her husband about it – but it was her rule never to disturb him when he was working. It might upset his brilliant mind. She might be responsible for a wonderful invention not getting made – and that would be unthinkable. ‘It’s all right, Mrs Bradley,’ said Robo. ‘I don’t mind going, although I shouldn’t think there’s anything I can say that’ll be

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the slightest help. Just let me run upstairs for a moment to use the bathroom.’ Robo was gone for rather more than a moment, and Awg could see that the police looked very relieved when he finally reappeared. He went out with them to their car and was driven away. After three hours he had not returned.

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Eight

It was late evening before Robo finally reappeared. He looked tired and drawn. Mrs Bradley fussed around him for a while (which was annoying) but then brought him a plate of sandwiches (which was what he really needed). She was finding it quite difficult to have two teenage boys in the house. Previously she had hardly noticed she had one. Awg could see that she was making an effort, doing her best. He felt quite proud of her really. Awg collected two cans of Coke from the fridge. He also helped himself to some of the sandwiches. ‘So what was all that about?’ ‘D’you mean what they said it was about, or what it was really about?’ said Robo angrily. ‘Not the plods following up the burglary?’ ‘Like hell! But at least it was the plods.’ ‘Eh?’ ‘You didn’t think I was going off with those two on their say-so. I want to go on living. What do you think I was doing upstairs?’ ‘Not having a piss?’ ‘Checking with the police HQ on Scotland Street. They OK’d it.’ ‘So what happened?’ ‘They took me to an office on the top floor. Detective Inspector Flite, CID. So obviously not just routine.

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‘He started on about the flat at Marsh lane – said how it had been broken into. So of course I said so what, it’s nothing to do with me now, the guys living there at the moment should sort it. ‘THEN it turns out that the flat is empty. Apparently it was re-let for six months but then the people left and it’s been unoccupied ever since.’ ‘So someone burgled an empty flat?’ ‘So he said. Then he banged on about had I left anything in the flat, so I said no, of course not. ‘And he kept on was I sure, there wasn’t anything I’d left there – maybe hidden there? I didn’t have a clue what he was getting at. At first. But then he switched to another line, and I began to see what it was all about.’ ‘Not about the break-in?’ ‘If there was a break in. Listen. He went back to when I’d given up the flat. Why had I given it up?’ ‘Well – without your dad, where were you supposed to go?’ ‘Exactly. Without Dad. That was what it was all about. When did I last see him? When had I last heard from him? Had he sent me anything at around the time he disappeared?’ ‘What did they mean?’ said Awg. ‘Letters and stuff? There wasn’t anything, was there? Not until you got that letter from the Cambridge people saying he’d gone missing?’ ‘That’s right. So he fished around until I told him about the emails and how they were in code. He acted all surprised about that (but I bet he knew anyway) and how unusual it was for a man to write to his son in code. ‘Hey – go easy on those sandwiches. I’m the one who got no supper!’ ‘OK. Sorry.’ ‘So I said not at all. Intelligent men tried to stretch their kids a bit, set them challenges and so on. ‘He didn’t like that, because he thought I was getting at him. Which I was. Then he made a mistake. He left his desk a moment to get some stuff from a filing cabinet. So I

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craned over and took a good look – and that’s when I saw the paper with the eagle crest on it: US Government, Central Intelligence Agency.’ ‘So we’re back to that.’ ‘Yep. Then he started on again about stuff Dad sent to me. Was it just emails, or were there letters – packages maybe? Perhaps a heavy package to be left for when he returned home? ‘Of course, then I saw the whole thing. They weren’t interested in the break-in. There probably wasn’t any break-in. They just wanted to quizz me about Dad, and whether he’d sent me anything.’ ‘The resonator!’ ‘Yep. Somehow they’ve got on to that, and they’re desperate to know what it is and what happened to it.’ ‘Well, they’re never going to figure that out.’ ‘No, but it doesn’t stop them trying. I wonder what they’re thinking?’ ‘Search me. But you know what this means? It’s almost a year since your dad disappeared. And since then, how much have you heard from the authorities?’ ‘Sod all.’ ‘And now, out of the blue, they start asking questions. It means there’s been a new development. Something’s happened.’

The Matter of Dark

Nine

Next morning, a letter arrived for Robo, addressed to Marsh lane. It had been forwarded by the post office. Robo looked at it warily. It was thin and flat and didn’t seem to contain anything very much. Nevertheless, he opened it cautiously. It was as well to be careful. Inside was a single sheet of notepaper. This is what it said: 3 1 2 12 51 16 23 24 4 37 31 63 81 8 7 88* 50 10 25 44 30 17 15 21 56 61 29 52 28 344 38 82 20 ‘This must be what your police thing was about,’ said Awg. ‘They think it’s come from your dad. Only, we know it hasn’t.’ Robo looked again at the envelope. ‘Bristol postmark. Posted a week ago. Probably delayed in the sorting office while they re-addressed it.’ ‘And by the police, when they intercepted it,’ said Awg. ‘Doesn’t look as if it’s been opened. But I suppose it wouldn’t.’ ‘Message from Henry and Violet?’ ‘Good bet, I should think.’ ‘Did Henry know any of your Dad’s codes?’ ‘No. And it isn’t one of Dad’s codes. It’s something quite different.’ Robo sat for several minutes, studying the letter. Finally, he slid it across the table to Awg. ‘What d’you think? Have a good look.’ Awg stared at the paper.

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‘No idea. The thing that’s odd about it is that all the numbers are different. If it was a letter-to-number code like the watch you’d expect repeats.’ ‘Exactly. Which means it’s probably a substitution code with a key. Each number represents a letter from a document: 1 for the first letter, 2 for the second, and so on. Or it could all be reversed. ‘You can guess a few things – like 344 must be an unusual letter like Q or Z because they’ve had to trawl a long way through the passage before coming to one. Otherwise it’s almost impossible to break unless you have the key. So, where is it?’ ‘Invisible ink!’ exclaimed Awg in excitement. ‘The key’s on the paper but you can’t see it. Or perhaps it’s written inside the envelope. Or hidden in a microdot or something.’ ‘Um … possibly. We could try a few things, like warming the paper. But – don’t you think it’s a bit complicated? If it is from Henry, he’d want us to suss it out fairly easily. And there’s another thing – it goes against code logic.’ ‘You mean ‘eggs in one basket’?’ ‘Yeah. Only a complete dickhead would put the key in the same place as the message. Any serious search would find it for sure.’ ‘Which means – the key must be somewhere else. But somewhere we’d be able to find it.’ ‘Or in something we’ve already got. YESSSSSS!!!!!!’ Robo shot out of the door. Scrabbling noises interspersed with certain expressive Anglo-Saxon words emerged from his bedroom. Luckily, no-one was listening. A few minutes later he was back – holding a second letter. ‘I’ve only ever had one letter from them before, so that’s got to be it!’ Inside the envelope were the short note and press cutting Robo had received after meeting Henry and Violet in Bristol a year before.

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Thought you might be interested in this. Looks like we had a lucky escape, Violet. ARMED ROBBERS FOILED BY GRANNY One man is in custody and another in hospital with a fractured scull following a failed robbery attempt yesterday. The intended victims were Mrs Violet Milroy and her son Henry of Bainrigg Road, Knowle. Seventy-one year old Mrs Milroy, who was upstairs when the doorbell rang, told our reporter that she always keeps a good look out for callers because her son is of a nervous disposition. ‘I just knew those two were up to no good when I saw them coming up our path,’ said Mrs Milroy. ‘And when the tall one pulled a gun out of his coat I was sure of it. Luckily, my big pot of begonias was on the windowsill so I dropped it on his head. It must have surprised him because he fainted.’ Mrs Milroy called an ambulance for the wounded man. His accomplice was found hiding in a dustbin and gave himself up to police on the condition that they didn’t let ‘that woman’ near him.

‘Where d’you think we start?’ asked Awg. ‘Should we include the written message?’ ‘Dunno. Let’s try it with the first six characters and see. 3 1 2 12 51 16. Starting at ‘Thought’ it’s O T H I C B … ’ ‘Doesn’t look promising. Try the bit from the newspaper.’ ‘OK. That’s E O N U D D … ’ ‘What? That’s worse. Unless it’s in Welsh.’ ‘Doesn’t make much sense backwards, either.’ ‘Try beginning with the headline. You started with ‘One’. ’ Robo wrote out the letters: MARSHLANECALLBOWTENAMEIGHT EENJULY

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‘Bullseye! But ‘callbow’? Must be ‘callbox’.’ ‘It’s just a mistake,’ said Awg. ‘He miscounted the letters.’ ‘No. I see. That’s why he’s put the asterisk – to show it’s not quite right. It’s the nearest he could get. There isn’t an ‘x’ in the report. ‘Anyway, sod that. What’s the date today?’ ‘Eighteenth. And it’s nearly a quarter to ten.’ ‘Shit! Of course, he doesn’t know I’ve moved. Must have thought I’d get the letter in plenty of time.’ He leapt to his feet. ‘OK. Faster than a speeding bullet, Robo …’ He was halfway down the stairs and heading for the front door when Awg launched himself after him. ‘WAIT. Think!’ Robo waited and thought. ‘You’re right. It’s over the back fence and through the side streets. I hope I can do it.’

The Matter of Dark

Ten

By the time Robo got to the telephone box at the corner of Marsh lane it was three minutes past ten. Worse than that, the box wasn’t empty. ‘No, you tell him. I’m not going out with him on my own. You know what he’s like.’ ‘No. You’ve got to say it to him. It was you he asked first.’ One girl was inside holding the phone, the other propping the door open. They argued and giggled. Then they dropped all their money on the floor and spent ages picking it up. By the time they left it was 10.15. One minute later, the phone rang. Robo slipped out of his hiding place in a doorway and leapt into the box. He recognised the voice on the other end of the line. ‘Hallo. Is that Jonathan?’ ‘Yes. Some girls were on the phone sorting out their love life. Henry?’ ‘Yes. But for safety we must ask each other a security question. You first.’ Robo thought quickly. What the hell could he say? ‘What did we have for lunch when we met?’ ‘Fish and chips.’ ‘OK. Now you, Henry.’ ‘What is my mother’s name and what colour hat was she wearing?’ ‘Violet – and blue.’ ‘Good. I’ll be brief. There’s something you should know. There’s been a breach of my security. You remember what I

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explained to you, about the 3 places I set up? – Don’t spell it out!’ ‘Yes. I remember.’ ‘Well, one of them had a change of staff. The new guy didn’t bother to read the rules about preserving confidentiality and phoned me up. Stupid idiot! ‘Of course, the call was traced. My phone is monitored all the time. The offices were burgled the same night. The place was roughed up to make it look like a normal break-in and various files were taken. But most of them were recovered from a skip a few blocks away. Guess which one wasn’t!’ ‘Yeah, OK.’ ‘So they have all my stuff – the full report of what happened at Trollheim. Most of it they already knew about in general. But now they have the detail and all the photos, including a couple I took in your father’s place when I went in and found him gone – just before my own very rapid exit. ‘So – I thought you should know. Be on your guard. Things may start happening again. Good luck.’ ‘But how can … ’ There was a click. Henry was gone. * ‘Well I guess that explains the police visit,’ said Awg, with a sour look. ‘They must’ve been tipped off right away.’ ‘Yeah. More likely than the letter. Perhaps they didn’t even know about that, let alone try to decode it. And I don’t think there was anyone watching the phone box.’ ‘Is it all about the resonator?’ ‘About that – and Dad’s disappearance.’ ‘Maybe they’re linking the two. You don’t think they’ve guessed the truth – that they know what the resonator is?’ ‘Could be – but I don’t really think so. It’s a pretty big leap of imagination to believe that something like that actually exists. No, I guess that whatever’s in their mind is much more down to earth.’

The Matter of Dark

‘I bet they think it’s a weapon,’ said Awg. ‘That’s why they’re paranoid about it.’ ‘What?’ ‘Look. One: from the bog remains they’re pretty sure they’re dealing with alien life forms and an extraterrestrial visit. Two: there’s this strange metal object that’s gone missing. Three: they’ve got photos showing damage in the place your dad’s just escaped from. They think the resonator’s a weapon and he’s used it to blast his way out of trouble.’ ‘Holy shit! And … I wonder if there’s something we don’t know? Like people got hurt on their way to pick Dad up. Perhaps even killed? If that happened they’d be wetting themselves trying to get hold of whatever did it. They’ll think they can get their hands on some completely new type of beam gun or something.’ ‘Hell!’ Awg grabbed Robo’s arm. ‘What if they find out there’s another of them? A second resonator.’ ‘But they couldn’t! There’s nothing to connect the Norway finds with Llangarreg.’ ‘Yes there is. You! You’ve been to Llangarreg. Stayed there for weeks. And how many times have you been back since to see Gwen?’ ‘Six or seven times … ’ ‘You see? We’ve got to act fast. I’ll ring Joseph and tell him to hide the resonator. It’ll be on the windowsill in his workroom. We put it back in that case he made for it after my first trip. You phone Gwen to see if there’s been anyone nosing round, asking questions … ’ Awg broke off. He was staring at something outside the window. Robo drew a deep breath and turned nervously in his chair. A large black car with darkened windows was gliding slowly along the street, obviously searching for a particular address. And it was stopping outside their house. Awg pulled Robo to his feet.

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‘Get out the back way. Quick! Get down to the station. Go to Llangarreg!’ They heard the sound of a door open, voices in the hallway. It was too late.

The Matter of Dark

Eleven

‘I’m afraid we haven’t any mead,’ said Mrs Bradley, sweetly. ‘Would cider do?’ She went to the door and called up the stairs. ‘Allardyce, dear – there’s a monk here to see you. I’m just giving his driver a cup of tea. Do you know, he’s brought him all the way from Lambeth in London!’ * As far as Awg knew, four humans from Earth had travelled to planet Zero. In all cases their journeys had been accidental, the result of happenings far off and beyond their control. Benedict had been the first. Roughly a thousand Earth years later, Awg, his grandfather Joseph, and Robo’s father Gary had followed in relatively quick succession. The common factor had been that the transportations were not meant to occur. Rules had been broken. The auto-policing system that had removed Awg from a remote Welsh village to a subterranean prison in the deserts of Zero should not have been able to operate outside Zero’s galaxy. The route taken by Joseph had required a short-circuiting of two intergalactic beam systems which were in theory totally independent of one another. Gary’s arrival on Zero had involved the accidental activation of a guidance system which had been dormant for hundreds of years. And the snatching of Benedict from one Universe into another had been the result of a surge of power

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from the turning on of a machine which was so vastly powerful that its own inventors struggled to control it. Perhaps the case of Benedict was truly one in which foolhardiness, risk and chance had played the major part. For the others, Awg was beginning to suspect that the long arm of coincidence might have overreached itself. He was right. On planet Zero, a team had been looking into these matters very closely. What they were finding had at first puzzled them. After a while, they became seriously uneasy. The final shattering realisation took much longer. And then they were left with the horror. * ‘Are you really Benedict?’ asked Robo. ‘The Benedict. The one Awg talks about? And – is Dad OK? The messages from Zert have stopped coming and we don’t know why.’ ‘Well, of course I have no way of knowing what Awg may have said about me – but yes, I am Benedict: Benedict of Llangarreg. The monk who made the clocks. And your father is well. At present, everyone is well.’ ‘But why are you here?’ said Awg. ‘How did you get here, and why were you in London? And what do you mean ‘at present’?’ ‘All in good time. All shall be told in time. But at the moment I am very tired and need to rest. I should be most grateful if you could find me somewhere to sleep. * ‘He looks so old,’ said Awg. ‘Well, if he’s been around for a thousand years you’d expect him to be a bit wrinkled.’ ‘No. I mean so much older. I’ve never been able to tell how old he really was. He’s always looked sort of ageless. That’s how

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he was when I last saw him on Zero. But now he looks different – shrunken, somehow.’ ‘How much d’you know about him?’ asked Robo. ‘I met him in the priory, the first time I ever went to Llangarreg. That’s what started all this. I got lost, and went into the chapel – and he was just there. We talked for a bit and then he said goodbye and vanished.’ ‘Vanished?’ ‘Yeah. Suddenly. Completely disappeared.’ ‘Wow! Creepy.’ ‘And then when I got to Zero the first time I met him again, and discovered he’d been coming and going between the two worlds for years. I don’t think anybody quite understands how he does it, not even him. It’s something to do with the meteorite and how it interacts with the plasma transport beams.’ ‘He travels on a meteorite?’ ‘Not on one, with one – by means of one. It landed on Gellyn mountain while he was up there with some other monks on a night-time vigil. It seems to be the thing that makes him able to do the time travelling.’ ‘So does he have to heave a lump of rock about with him all the time?’ ‘I think he did at first, but it got damaged in the fire and began to crumble apart. So the Zeroians put the stuff that was left inside an hourglass for him, to preserve it.’ ‘You’re not making this up, are you?’ asked Robo. ‘It’s not exactly a great time to be taking the piss.’ ‘No. You know I wouldn’t. Anyway, I couldn’t outweird Benedict. Listen. When he first left the mountain it was about 1390, but when he eventually got back to Llangarreg it was 1725 and the priory had been knocked down. That’s why he had to make the clocks – to earn a living. But the workshop was struck by lightning in 1776 and burnt down, and he’s been mostly on Zero ever since.’ Awg paused for a moment. In many ways he was as baffled as Robo.

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‘It’s really strange that he’s here,’ he continued. ‘Here in Strenton, I mean. And that he’s been to London. I wonder why he went there? I thought he only ever travelled to Llangarreg, and even there he keeps out of the way as much as possible. He hates to alarm people.’

The Matter of Dark

Twelve

Mrs Bradley felt rather honoured to have a monk in the house. She was looking forward to telling her Townswomen’s Guild friends about it. ‘You see, he’d been to Lambeth to see the Archbishop, and he – the Archbishop of course – wouldn’t hear of him travelling by train, so he arranged for a private car – a limousine actually … ’ She decided that the whole family should have breakfast together. This was most unusual. In fact, Awg couldn’t remember it ever having happened before. Mr Bradley looked rather cross. He was used to having his breakfast brought to him in his study, and he wanted to get on with his work. He’d just had this wonderful new idea for a frisbee that you could play like a CD … Still, he had to admit it wasn’t every day that a monk came to visit, and this particular monk did seem to have something about him: an air of … Mr Bradley couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Benedict had asked for fruit, cereal, milk and honey and seemed to be peacefully enjoying it. Mr Bradley was reading his paper. Awg and Robo were keeping quiet and waiting to see what might happen. There was rather a lot of silence at the moment. ‘Er … hum … was that your first visit to London, Mr … er … Father … er … Benedict?’ asked Mrs Bradley in a high and nervous voice. Benedict smiled. He had slept well and felt much better. ‘No, no. Actually, I had been before. Twice, in fact. Once

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when I was a young man, and once when I was older.’ ‘And … and … did you find the City much changed?’ continued Mrs Bradley, determined to keep the conversation going. ‘Yes, greatly.’ ‘And what did you notice most?’ ‘The smell.’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ This was not quite the sort of topic Mrs Bradley had in mind. Especially at breakfast. ‘Much improved. In some parts, the air was formerly quite rank, especially down by the river. I expect that the drains have been extended, and of course there are so few horses now.’ ‘Horses?’ ‘Yes, I only saw two during my visit, and of course once there were thousands. The streets used to get in a terrible state.’ Mr Bradley’s head appeared above his newspaper. ‘When exactly did you last visit, then?’ Benedict looked at Awg, who swallowed hard but said nothing. ‘The last time I came was to deliver one of my clocks. It had been ordered by Sir Roger de Court, and as it was rather special I felt I should accompany it. I took the clock to Sir Roger’s house myself. It was very grand – in Westminster, not far from the new bridge.’ Mr Bradley was beginning to get quite interested. ‘What was so new about it?’ ‘Well, it was quite a novelty to have another bridge, although of course the City people had their noses rather put out of joint. They cleared all the buildings off the old bridge and widened it, just to show they were not going to be outdone, especially by some upstart architect from Switzerland.’ Mr Bradley knew a thing or two about bridges, and he knew that Westminster Bridge was built by the Victorians in about 1860. But he also remembered that there had been an earlier bridge, built a hundred years before that – and, yes, he dimly recalled that the designer was Swiss. Hmmmmm.

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‘So what sort of time are we talking about?’ he asked, rather gruffly. ‘I’m not sure exactly. I know I made my visit in about 1768 – but the bridge at Westminster was already nearly twenty years old by then, I believe.’ There was a long silence. Mrs Bradley laughed in a twitchy sort of way, spilling the tea she was pouring. ‘Of c-course, the Holy Father is only joking.’ But Mr Bradley carried on. If this man was joking, he would let him make a complete fool of himself. ‘I’d be most interested to hear about your earlier visit – when you were a young man, you say?’ ‘Ah – that was quite different,’ continued Benedict. ‘It was not long after I was newly professed and sent to Llangarreg. Our Prior had received a group of pilgrims from Ireland. They were bound for Jerusalem, and he instructed two of the youngest brethren to accompany them as far as London. ‘The journey on foot took us more than a week – but, as you can imagine, we were thrilled to see the great city – although it was very much smaller then, of course. But such a jostle and noise of animals and carts, all rushing along; and people shouting, bargaining at stalls – we had never seen anything like it. Shrewsbury itself seemed a village by comparison. ‘I saw the Archbishop on that occasion too – his name was William Courtenay. There was a gathering of many pilgrims at St Paul’s Cross outside the great church, and he came to bless their journey.’ ‘It must have been quite a sight,’ remarked Mr Bradley. ‘All the travellers assembled, and the great dome of St Paul’s towering over it all.’ He felt rather pleased with himself. That comment should show this monk up for the impostor he must be. But Benedict shook his head. ‘Oh no, Mr Bradley, there was no dome. This was the old church and it had a great spire – the tallest in the land. They told me it was nearly five hundred feet high.’

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‘And about when would this be, then – what year?’ said Awg’s father, now in a rather subdued voice. If this strange man was making it all up, he was doing a very convincing job. And what was his motive for doing it at all? Benedict thought for a moment. ‘Let me see … I was shortly to be twenty two years of age – so it would have been 1382 in your reckoning.’ Mrs Bradley got up suddenly and went into the kitchen where she rattled the crockery a good deal. Benedict looked embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry. I thought Awg might have explained.’ Mr Bradley looked startled and his voice was no longer steady. ‘H-Have you come all the way from London just to see my son?’ ‘Yes. Perhaps he has not had time to mention that we have met several times before.’ ‘Recently?’ asked Mr Bradley, with just a tinge of panic in his voice. ‘Oh yes, quite recently. I have met Jonathan’s father also.’ Benedict sensed that it would not be a wise to mention where, at present. ‘And do you intend to return to London now?’ Mr Bradley heard his own voice asking the question, but it was as if the speaker were someone else. ‘No. I need to make a visit to Llangarreg. There are matters I must discuss with your parents.’ ‘My parents? You know my parents?’ ‘Yes, of course. Joseph and I have passed many pleasant hours together talking as fellow clockmakers. I was also rather hoping you would let the boys accompany me on my journey.’ Once again Mr Bradley felt his lips moving, but his brain was left way behind in the conversation. ‘But – they have a week of school left before they break up for the summer holidays.’

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‘Then perhaps together we could compose a little note of explanation. I assure you that they will learn more of importance in Llangarreg then they can possibly do at school.’ Benedict judged it best to retire to his room for a while and Robo went to help Mrs Bradley in the kitchen, so Awg was left alone with his father. Normally, they had little to say to one another. Mr Bradley had always been too preoccupied with his work to think much about his family. But just at that moment he knew something extraordinary was happening, and he had no idea how to deal with it. He spoke in a low voice, almost a whisper. ‘Allardyce – do you agree with me that either your friend is a lunatic or he is speaking the truth?’ ‘Yes, dad.’ ‘Which is it?’ ‘He’s telling the truth.’ ‘I was afraid you’d say that.’ His father had never spoken to him like this before and Awg felt that a bridge had been crossed. Mr Bradley got up slowly from the table, went to his study and closed the door.

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Thirteen

‘What is he up to?’ said Robo. ‘He’s seen the Archbishop of Canterbury and now he wants to go to Llangarreg. And the only thing he’ll say to us is ‘all shall be told in time’.’ ‘Well, he must have said something bloody convincing in London. Not only does the Archbishop not heave him out as a loony – he fixes him up with a swish car and helps him on his way. It’s ultraweird.’ ‘I thought your mum was going to have a fit when he started on about the horses and the stink.’ In fact, Mrs Bradley was now rather afraid of Benedict and was avoiding him as much as possible. Mr Bradley reappeared only briefly to write a letter for the school explaining the boys’ absence. Awg and Robo packed up rucksacks for their journey to Llangarreg. There was a lot of stuff to take because Benedict had warned them that they could be away for some time. ‘Just Llangarreg?’ asked Awg, who already suspected that their eventual destination might be far more distant. ‘That depends,’ replied the monk. ‘What on?’ ‘On what you decide.’ They said goodbye to Awg’s parents. Benedict thanked them warmly for their hospitality. ‘ ’Bye Mrs Bradley, Mr Bradley,’ said Robo, subdued and wondering what the monk would tell them at Llangarreg. ‘Goodbye, and thanks for everything.’

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Awg himself was unhappy about going away. Things had never been easy at home and now the atmosphere had got really tense. It was all his fault. His mother was worried because she didn’t understand what was going on, and his father was worried because he was beginning to. But at least there was one good bit. This last year with Robo at home had been great – the nearest thing to a normal family life Awg had ever had. As Awg closed the garden gate, he turned and waved to his parents. The image of the two of them standing together at the front door etched itself in his mind, like one of Benedict’s portraits of a bygone London. He never forgot it. * Benedict was fascinated by the railway. The technique of using a fixed track to guide the wheels of a vehicle was new to him, and he spent a long time speculating to himself about how the idea might have come about. He guessed it had something to do with the deep ruts in the old roads: carts sometimes got stuck in them and were carried along in whatever direction they led. Perhaps someone had noticed this and decided to turn it into something useful. It took them two hours to get to Shrewsbury, and then they had another two hour wait before the connection left for Pontrhyd. The delay had unforeseen consequences. ‘Do you think I might go into the town for a brief visit to the Abbey?’ asked Benedict. ‘It’s a long time since I last saw it.’ ‘Was that when you were a novice there?’ asked Awg. ‘No – later on. I also visited the town several times in my clockmaker days. Of course, much of the Abbey had been pulled down by then. It made me very sad to see it.’ Benedict found a town map on a wall near the station exit. ‘It seems that from the railway station I can get into Castle Street. So if I go down through the town and over the river I shall reach the Abbey quite quickly.’

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‘About twenty minutes, I should think,’ said Robo, eyeing up the distance. Awg consulted his watch. ‘Our train goes at ten past two. We must catch it because there’s not another one for four hours and Grandpa Joseph will be waiting for us at Pontrhyd. So – as long as you get back before then.’ ‘I will return by two o’clock lacking the quarter.’ ‘I think he means 1.45,’ said Robo, watching Benedict as he strode happily away. ‘Do you think he’ll be OK?’ ‘Well, he got himself across London, so I should think so. Anyway, he’s been here before.’ ‘Yeah. But that was three hundred years ago. Things might have changed a bit since then.’ They made their way to the station buffet and got drinks and some sandwiches. They bought a salad sandwich and a bottle of water for Benedict, so that he wouldn’t miss out. ‘What sort of ticket d’you get for him?’ asked Robo. ‘Standard single. I thought he might go at a special rate, like soldiers and bikes. But the man at the ticket office said no, dogs were free but monks went like ordinary people.’ They waited patiently, keeping a sharp look out. An hour and a half later, they were still waiting.

The Matter of Dark

Fourteen

At 13.40 there was no still sign of Benedict. ‘I think I’d best go and see where he’s got to,’ said Awg. ‘You stay here in case I miss him. I’ll be as quick as I can.’ Awg jogged down the road towards the river. As he neared the Abbey entrance, his heart sank. A large crowd had gathered. At its centre were a monk, a policeman and several Abbey officials, all obviously disagreeing with one another. ‘What’s happened?’ asked Awg, stopping beside an old lady in a green coat who was craning her neck to get a better view. ‘It’s that monk,’ she said. ‘He’s letting people in free.’ ‘So, do you have to pay to get in?’ asked Awg, knowing that Benedict did not have any money. ‘There’s no actual admission charge – but they expect you to make a donation as you go in. But that monk opened up a side gate and told people they could go in free, and that they shouldn’t pay.’ Awg pushed into the ring of people so that he could hear what was happening. Benedict was arguing with one of the officials. ‘I did not pick the lock. I am not a common felon! I merely opened the gate with a self-assembling key.’ ‘A what?’ ‘A self-assembling key. It takes on the negative form of the lock pattern in order to operate the mechanism. How else can a traveller deal with gates? It is not possible to carry a set of keys large enough to open every lock.’ The policeman showed considerable interest in this remark.

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‘Where d’you get it?’ ‘A friend gave it to me. He very kindly made several such devices to assist me on my journey.’ ‘Oh, did he now … ’ Awg knew the hand of Zert when he saw it. And he could see what would happen if this got seriously investigated. He broke into the centre of the circle and shouted out. ‘Sorry, everyone. It’s a joke! ‘My friend got it from Hanleys toyshop. He’s an actor. It’s a publicity stunt to advertise their new range of tricks and puzzles. So – take your kids to Hanleys and ENJOY YOURSELVES. Bargains on every floor. Goodbye.’ ‘Come on.’ Awg grabbed Benedict’s arm and hauled him away. They just caught the train. The old lady in the green coat was puzzled. She had spoken to the monk when he arrived and he seemed genuine enough. And she’d never heard of a toyshop called Hanleys, although she had lived in the town all her life. * ‘I’m so sorry,’ said Benedict, cautiously chewing his way through a Travelfare sandwich, ‘but the thought of payment to enter the Abbey really distressed me. People should be free to come and go as they wish.’ ‘Things have changed, Benedict,’ said Robo. ‘These places aren’t rich any more, and the government doesn’t pay for their upkeep. They have to get money wherever they can.’ ‘But wasn’t it the same in your day?’ added Awg. ‘Weren’t there all sorts of schemes for raising funds. What about those religious relics they used to sell – stuff like Saints’ fingers and toes, and chunks of the Cross?’ ‘Yes, I must admit that always worried me. There seemed to be rather too many objects, and not enough questions asked about where they came from. But it was mainly the Templars who traded in relics, not the monastic orders. We were more

The Matter of Dark

concerned with goods and land. In fact, that was how I became a monk in the first place. Have I never told you?’ The two boys shook their heads. They also checked around the carriage that no one else was listening too closely. Enough eyebrows had been raised for one day already. ‘I was born within the bounds of the Abbey itself. We lived there, because my father worked as an assistant to the cellarer.’ ‘So was your father a monk as well? I thought they didn’t, I mean … ’ Benedict smiled. ‘No, he was a layman. A large institution like the Abbey employed many laymen to help with the running of the building and gardens. In fact, most of the senior monks had personal servants. My father was unusual in that he could read and write, and his duties were to assist the cellarer with the business affairs of the Abbey – keeping the accounts, managing the leases of Abbey lands, and so on.’ ‘And the cellars – looking after the beer?’ asked Robo, who felt this was probably one of the better jobs going. ‘Ha! The malting and brewing were only a small part of the cellarer’s responsibilities. Although titled ‘cellarer’ he was really in charge of most of the Abbey’s non-religious activities. His importance was second only to that of the Abbot himself. A good man in such a position meant prosperity for the House, and a poor or dishonest one could spell debt and ruin. ‘Fortunately, our cellarer was a fair and competent man, and he treated my father and his family well. So I grew up alongside all aspects of Abbey life. As I got older, the brethren saw that I was quick-witted and intelligent, and I myself felt drawn to the monastic way of life. So in due course I was accepted as a novice and eventually became Brother Benedict – first, of Shrewsbury, and latterly of Llangarreg.’ The monk settled back in his seat. ‘You know – if I close my eyes I can picture it all as if it were yesterday.’ He seemed to be falling asleep, but after a few moments opened his eyes again.

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‘Awg,’ he said. ‘That woman you were talking to outside the Abbey – what did she mean when she asked if I was Brother Cadfael?’

The Matter of Dark

Fifteen

‘Doesn’t it remind you of the helicars?’ whispered Benedict. ‘I mean, they do shake about a lot – and the noise of their engines …’ Awg nudged him and put his finger to his lips. Joseph’s green Morris Traveller ground its way up the steep and narrow road towards Llangarreg. Around the hairpin bend by the waterfall. Through the hamlet of Pen-y-gwyn and past Edward Pryce’s farm. Into the higher lane where the road got even steeper and had clumps of grass growing along the middle. And at last to Llangarreg and to the house where Awg’s grandparents lived. It was not an ordinary house. Bryn Castell: the castle on the mound. Once part of a medieval stronghold, the round tower had survived to become a house. It stood proudly beside the ruins of the priory, the flag of Wales flying from its roof. As the car drew up, the iron-studded door opened and a tiny woman with a mass of silver hair came down to meet them. Awg jumped out, raced up the path and flung his arms around her. ‘No poker this time?’ he asked with a grin. ‘You know, I’d almost forgotten about that!’ said Grandma Annie, just a little embarrassed. ‘But come in – all of you. Jonathan! How lovely to see you again – we’ve really missed you. And you are Benedict! No stranger to Llangarreg, or to this house of course – but we’ve never actually met one another until now.’

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Apart from a small kitchen at the back, the house had only three rooms, each completely circular and on a separate level. A narrow stone staircase leading to the upper floors spiralled its way between the inner and outer walls of the tower. At the top was Joseph’s workshop, which also doubled as a bedroom when the boys came to stay. Next came Joseph and Annie’s bedroom, and the ground floor contained the living room. Here, after their journey, they sat down to what Benedict (who usually ate little) described as ‘a rather wonderful meal’. Annie enjoyed having guests and was proud of her kitchen. After supper, Joseph went upstairs and returned carrying an oblong wooden box which he placed in front of Benedict. ‘I thought you might like to see this again,’ he said. ‘We look after it for Awg.’ The monk opened the lid and took out a metal object. It consisted of three bronze-coloured metallic spheres joined together by a silver rod. The central sphere was much larger than the outer ones and was about the size of a cricket ball. ‘The Resonator – the original one from the Patrician’s palace! I can see you keep it safely.’ He examined it closely, turning it over and over in his hands and scrutinising every part of the structure. ‘It seems to be unaltered. You yourself have not noticed anything different recently? No signs of change or discoloration?’ ‘No. Why do you ask?’ ‘Because of this.’ Benedict took out the hourglass. The sand inside had come from the rock of a meteorite. Awg remembered it as bright and glittering, but it was now a dull grey-brown. ‘It is a sign of the times,’ said the monk sadly. ‘The particles are responding to the breakdown of the plasma field.’ ‘We ourselves judged that things on Zero were far from well,’ said Joseph. ‘And how did you learn that?’ asked Benedict, surprised. ‘Come and see,’ said Annie.

The Matter of Dark

She took them over to the high shelf on which stood the great clock – the ‘Old Curiosity’ which Benedict had made secretly over two hundred years before. Its hidden Zeroian power source had been the cause of Awg’s first, accidental, journey to planet Zero. She pointed up to the beautifully lettered white face in its triangle of ebony- black wood. ‘It stopped two days ago.’ ‘But that clock has run for over two hundred years!’ exclaimed Robo. ‘Except for when I jiggered it,’ said Awg, looking rather guilty. ‘Yes – but that wasn’t for very long,’ said Joseph. ‘I rebuilt it quite soon after your … um … accident. It’s run non-stop for all the rest of its life as far as we know.’ ‘Even now, you would not find any fault with it,’ said Benedict. ‘I am quite certain that the movement itself is still sound. It is the power unit which has failed.’* ‘Is that why my watch doesn’t work any more?’ asked Awg. ‘The communications bit, I mean. The messages from Zert started to break up and then they stopped altogether.’ ‘Yes. All the Zeroian beam systems are failing. But things are far more serious than that. That is why I have come. And we did try to tell you that I was on my way – or at least that I was about to attempt the journey. Zert sent a message to your watch, but it seems that you never received it.’ ‘Yes we did!’ exclaimed Robo. ‘But it wasn’t complete and we didn’t make the right guess. It said AWAIT EDICT. What you meant was AWAIT BENEDICT!’ ‘That is correct. We decided that the only course of action left to us was for someone to attempt the journey in person. But as you can see, the whole thing was fraught with danger because the plasma transport system was no longer reliable. I * Technical Note: Strictly speaking, the power source itself was still operational. The problem lay in its control system because this, like the tamper alarm, was beam-activated from Zero.

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volunteered, because I had the most previous experience – and because I might be able to do a little good here on Earth – and, because … well, because I was the most expendable. We couldn’t risk sending your father, or Zert, because they are all desperately needed back on Zero.’ ‘But you still haven’t told us why!’ said Awg. ‘I shall do so tomorrow, and I have the following proposal. The weather seems set fair – so, let us all rise at dawn and climb to the top of Gellyn mountain. We will spend the day there, and I shall explain everything. It is an appropriate place for such an event. What do you say?’ Annie was the first to reply, strictly practical as usual. ‘If we’re on the mountain tomorrow then there’s boots to be cleaned and sandwiches to be made. And I think our two youngest walkers can come and give me a hand!’ Robo got up, but then said rather awkwardly, ‘You know I’ll help – but there is someone I’ve really got to go and see first.’ Joseph laughed. ‘I’ll do your share. Just this once, mind! You go and see Gwen now – but be back before ten at the latest. You’ve to be up sharp with the rest of us in the morning.’

The Matter of Dark

Sixteen

The sun shone. Apart from a few wisps of cloud, the sky was an azure blue. From the top of Gellyn mountain the view down the four valleys was clear: to the east stretching unbroken over hills and fields, and to the west rolling out until swallowed up by the hazy shapes of the great mountains in the far distance. In the still air there was no sound other than Benedict’s voice. ‘Awg – do you remember when we first met on Zero and I took you into the Hall of Memory?’ ‘You showed me the memorials to the Pioneers and told me about the expeditions that tried to get to Earth,’ replied Awg. He could clearly picture the dark, echoing space and the walls covered in stone tablets with their hieroglyphic inscriptions. ‘Yes. And I said something else that day. Something about the limits of our knowledge. It was just a chance remark at the time, but it has turned out to be far, far more important than I could possibly have realised. ‘You know that Zero is heating up and beginning to lose its atmosphere. This has been going on for millennia and should be an extremely slow and gradual process. But it has long been accepted that eventually the Zeroians will have to abandon their native planet and live elsewhere. It is partly in preparation for this that the virtual city of Auyvhasdh has been constructed. However, Zero’s scientists have come to realise that for some reason everything is happening too fast, and getting faster. ‘As they searched for some cause for this acceleration, they found a very strange thing. You will of course appreciate that

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movements in the cosmos always follow well established patterns and can be predicted. However, an extraordinary exception was discovered. The progress of a galaxy called Boscabuon was found to be following an irregular course. At one point it appeared to be moving away from Zero’s galaxy but it is now heading towards it at an increasing rate. ‘Are you suggesting that this galaxy is defying the laws of physics?’ said Joseph indignantly. ‘No indeed.’ ‘Then how do you explain such a movement?’ ‘I myself could not attempt to. But the Spyridi, who have expended years of effort on the problem, have concluded that the motion of the galaxy is being controlled.’ ‘Controlled? Think of the colossal energy involved! What could possibly exert such control?’ ‘They do not know – only that it seems to be happening and, if so, stupendous forces are at work, as you say. Now let me return to my remark to Awg in the Hall of Memory. It was something like “How can beings from Earth live here on Zero? How is it that the peoples from the two worlds can see each other?” ’ ‘I don’t see why those things should be so remarkable,’ said Grandma Annie. ‘The incredible thing is surely the journey – how anyone can travel such a distance.’ ‘No, it’s more than that,’ broke in Robo. ‘The really amazing bit is the difference between the two worlds. The Dark Matter. Each Universe is invisible to the other – dark to the other. That’s what he means. So, even if humans can reach Zero, how can they live there normally, and themselves be seen?’ ‘Xurog told me there was a difference in atomic structure,’ said Awg. ‘A … neutrino that wasn’t quite the same in the two places.’ ‘Yes. And it’s someone like Xurog that you will have to ask to get this explained properly. But it’s what you have just said that is the key. As I understand it, there is indeed a tiny difference in the structure of matter from one world to the other. Absolutely

The Matter of Dark

tiny – but it is this which prevents light and similar radiation from one Universe being detected by the other. ‘And now we come to the most astonishing – and deadly – part of all. The scientists on Zero have carried out theoretical work which proves that small amounts of matter from one Universe can exist stably in the other. The phrase they use is ‘congruent co-existence.’ The two forms become equivalent for all practical purposes. ‘BUT there is a catch – and it lies in that word ‘small’. They predict that – beyond a certain threshold – there will be a catastrophic breakdown between the two forms of matter. They will annihilate each other.’ ‘Like matter and antimatter?’ suggested Joseph. ‘Yes, partly like that. But in this case there is a level at which the two things can exist together without harm. Then, at some critical higher concentration, they burn each other up.’ ‘So, isn’t it OK as long as we find out what the concentration is and make sure we don’t go that far?’ said Robo. ‘Surely it’s not like two people go to Zero and it’s OK, and then another one arrives and they all go BOOM.’ Benedict laughed. ‘I’m so sorry. We must not make light of such a terrible matter – but your description conjured up such a wonderful picture. ‘No. You must realise that I am telling you only what I myself have been able to grasp. I am told that the true nature of the critical quantity is still being calculated, but it is huge – far greater than we need to think about in any normal consideration of people or materials. We are talking about quantities on a cosmic scale.’ ‘Then there’s no need to worry.’ said Awg. ‘There’s no way our activities can cause harm.’ Benedict looked grim. ‘I wish with all my heart that that were true. But it is not our own activities that are the cause for concern. It is something infinitely larger and more terrible. The force that is driving Zero and its galaxy to its doom is sucking in matter from Earth’s universe also. There is a drift of

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cosmic material from Earth’s universe to that of Zero, and it is accelerating. It is only a question of time before the critical point is reached and the balance between the two worlds undone. Zero’s universe will itself be devastated and depleted – but it is feared that Earth’s universe will be completely destroyed.

The Matter of Dark

Seventeen

‘And that, I am afraid, is what I came to tell the Archbishop,’ said Benedict sadly. ‘We felt that someone in authority should know.’ At the top of Gellyn mountain, the small group of friends sat in silence. Below them in the sunlit fields the sheep methodically chewed the grass, unconcerned. ‘Are the Zeroians sure?’ asked Annie, in a small voice. ‘There is little doubt,’ replied Benedict. ‘The main uncertainty is over the timing. The calculations take so long, you see, and a lot of the information is incomplete. In terms of the Earth’s universe, they reckon certainly within one hundred years and probably less than fifty.’ ‘What did the Archbishop say?’ asked Joseph. ‘He was shocked and distressed, naturally – and for the moment at a loss what to do. But he is a sincere and brilliant man who will endeavour to act for the best. I think our decision to tell him was sound, although it was a difficult choice.’ ‘But what are the Zeroians doing about it?’ said Awg. ‘I can’t see them just sitting around and waiting for everyone to be wiped out. Surely the Spyridi can think of something?’ ‘That is the second reason for my journey – to tell you that the Zeroians are doing all they can. But consider the nature of the problem: to find some way of destroying an entire galaxy, or changing its course across the heavens, or undermining the power of whatever is guiding it. Think of the magnitude of the task! Even with all their knowledge, they hardly know how to begin.

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‘This also I have said to the Archbishop – that the Zeroians are working to their limit. And that is why I have come to you now. My time is over. I am no longer strong enough to return. And your grandparents are also too old to make the journey. But you and Jonathan have a choice, and I bear messages for you both. ‘Jonathan – your father is committed to remain with the Zeroians. He has done valuable work and wishes to continue. He asks that you consider whether to join him. But he knows about Gwen and will understand if you decide to stay. ‘Awg – Asa asks for your help. You have been a generous friend in the past and the Zeroians respect you. But again they realise that you have your family to consider and will not think badly of you if you remain at home with them.’ ‘What do you think I should do?’ asked Awg. ‘I cannot advise you one way or the other – but I will say this. No one will blame you if you choose to stay, and the Zeroians have no idea of how you could help. But if you join them, you will be one more representative of Earth in the battle, and you seem to have been lucky in the past.’ ‘But even if they decide to go,’ said Joseph, ‘how will they make the journey? You yourself have told us that the beam systems are breaking down and that your own transfer was fraught with danger.’ ‘I have instructions from Xurog,’ replied Benedict. ‘If either or both of the boys decide to attempt the journey, we can give them the best chance. However, the coherence of the plasma field is getting worse by the day, so that any attempt must be made as soon as possible. And of course I do not need to tell you what follows from this.’ ‘No way back?’ said Robo. ‘That, I regret to say, is the most probable outcome,’ said Benedict. *

The Matter of Dark

‘I can’t believe what we’ve been asked,’ said Robo. ‘It’s totally unreal.’ In their workshop bedroom, the clean smell of wood shavings and machine oil seemed real enough. Through the tall windows of the tower room, the stars in the night sky shone out as they always did. But nothing was the same. ‘I’ve got to go,’ replied Awg. ‘Even if I get lost somewhere and never get to Zero at least I’ll have tried. And no one here’ll miss me much except Joseph and Annie, and at least they’ll understand. But it’s different for you.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Because of Gwen. I know you really care about her.’ ‘So, if you really care about someone, don’t you try and do stuff for them? But I’m on a loser both ways. If I leave Gwen and actually get to Zero, I might be some help in the fight with this ravaging galaxy. Seems bloody unlikely, but I just might. And I’ll be back with Dad. ‘If I stay, I’ll be with Gwen but I’ll never see Dad again. And it looks like everything’ll get trashed anyway, so what’s the point?’ ‘Are you going to say anything to her? You’ll have to tell her everything – or nothing.’ ‘She already knows there’s weird stuff going on, but she’s never asked me straight out. I don’t know what the hell to do.’

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The Ashes of Stars

Eighteen

Benedict took from his pocket a small square of black glass. As he ran his fingers down a silver band at the side, a mass of hieroglyphs became visible on its surface. ‘This is what Xurog has proposed,’ said Benedict. ‘But there might be a problem with one part of it. I didn’t read the whole message at the time, and looking at it now I can see Xurog has forgotten that things on Earth are not quite the same as on Zero.’ Benedict was sitting with Joseph and the boys in the garden behind the house at Bryn Castell. ‘The basic idea,’ he continued, ‘is to localise and concentrate the plasma field as much as possible. So we make use of both the resonator and my hourglass. But this will only achieve an improved focus. To increase the concentration within a localised area, we need a very dense substance. ‘Xurog first suggested metallic osmium but I was sure that we would not be able to obtain it easily. So when he asked me what other heavy metals might be more readily available, I’m afraid I mentioned gold. I was thinking we might be able to borrow a wedding ring or small ornament. I did not realise exactly what he had in mind.’ Benedict consulted the detail on his noteglass. ‘He instructs us to obtain at least twelve gold bars weighing a minimum of twenty-five pounds each, and set these out on flat ground in a symmetrical pattern at as high an altitude as possible.’

The Matter of Dark

‘How many?’ said Robo. ‘Er … twelve.’ ‘And weighing twenty-five pounds each?’ said Awg. Joseph did a little sum on a piece of paper. ‘By my reckoning,’ he said, ‘that represents around six million pounds worth. Give or take the odd million.’ ‘Something tells me this isn’t going to work,’ said Awg. ‘Let’s get this straight,’ said Robo. ‘We need a focusing device, and the resonator and hourglass will do for that. But we also need a collector to concentrate whatever field is still holding up, and this has to a heavy metal.’ ‘You could ask Gwen – you told me she was really into Deep Purple.’ ‘Piss off. Oh – sorry, Benedict. … But actually, you’ve given me an idea. Llanclynnog church.’ ‘What?’ ‘It’s on the top of a hill,’ continued Robo, ‘and they’ve just replaced the roof – the lead roof. There must be tons of it up there. They were just finishing the work last time I was here, when Gwen and I went climbing on Mynydd Du. The path up goes right past it.’ ‘What d’you think, Benedict?’ asked Awg. ‘It’s a brilliant idea. I’m sure we will not find anything better. If we station ourselves in the centre of the building then we are as high as we can be on the hill and there is a wide expanse of dense metal roof above us. I’m just a little … ’ ‘ … worried about it being a church?’ asked Joseph. ‘Yes. But as I think more about it, then the ancient idea of sanctuary comes to me. And what we are doing is aimed at finding sanctuary for our embattled world. So – as long as we respect our surroundings and cause no harm, then my conscience is clear.’ *

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It was never completely dark in the boys’ bedroom at Bryn Castell. Even with no moon, the starlight bathed the workshop in a soft grey light. The air was cold, and spiced with the fresh smell of chiselled wood. After a long silence, it was Robo who spoke. ‘I told her. Just the basic bits about you and Zero’s universe and how ours looks like it’s for the chop.’ ‘Did she believe you?’ ‘Benedict lent me some of the picture glasses.’ ‘And?’ ‘She said I had to decide, but … ’ ‘But what?’ ‘But she couldn’t live knowing that someone had passed up a chance to save the world because of her.’ * ‘What did you mean when you said I’d given you the idea?’ ‘Eh?’ Robo forced his eyes open. ‘Errggghhh. I was nearly asleep.’ ‘When I said about heavy metal and Gwen, you said it gave you the idea about the church roof.’ ‘Oh that! Come on, you plonker – can’t you guess?’ ? ‘Led Zeppelin.’

The Matter of Dark

Nineteen

Awg woke early. In the pale light of the morning, things seemed a lot clearer. The important decisions had already been taken. Both he and Robo were heading for Zero – or at least making the attempt – and they had Xurog’s plan. Benedict had said they should try as soon as possible. They had to get going. He got out of bed and poured a few inches of peaty brown water from the jug into the wash basin. He plunged his hands in, lowered his head and sloshed a wave of water over his face. ‘Aaaaaarrrrrrgggggghhhhh!’ The glacial chill of Bryn Castell well water took his breath away. It was the same summer and winter but he never got used to it. Robo woke with a start and sat up. ‘Oh, for chrissake! It’s only cold water. I thought you were being murdered at the very least.’ ‘We’ve got to practise. The whole thing’s got to be sorted out here first.’ ‘Whaddya mean?’ ‘The set-up for the transfer. It’s got to be our best shot. We can’t spend ages crawling about on a church floor trying to get things right. We’ve got to take Xurog’s instructions and get the whole procedure sorted. When we know exactly what to do, then we go up to Llanclynnog.’ After breakfast, Annie helped them clear a space in the centre of the main room. They waited for Xurog’s orders. Benedict consulted his noteglass. ‘You have to lie flat on the ground, as close together as possible. So, on your backs. The resonator should be in the

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middle, between you. Awg is also to wear his watch – on the wrist nearest the centre. ‘It’s usually on my left wrist – so I’ll lie on the right, then. What’s it for?’ ‘To act as an additional field focus and identifier. I am to put the hourglass by your heads, and, when you are ready, you are to invert it. The idea is that the movement of the meteorite grains will start the build-up to the transfer process.’ ‘So – is there some interactive element?’ asked Robo. ‘Are they trying to detect when we’re ready to go?’ ‘They got things pretty well focused when I went to Zero the last time,’ said Awg. This was an agonising memory for Robo because Awg had been picked up by the transfer beam and he had not. He’d been totally gutted. Hell’s teeth – what if it happened again? ‘In ideal circumstances I believe they could,’ answered Benedict. ‘In the present unstable situation, I think they’re relying on a change of local symmetry to trigger the transfer.’ ‘Do you mean a sort of domino effect?’ said Robo. ‘They set it all up and then we give it a push to make it snowball.’ ‘I think that’s exactly it. They allow the plasma field to build as much as possible overall, and then you discharge it locally.’ He glanced at the noteglass again. ‘Now – any belongings should be distributed as evenly as possible. So, one rucksack each, by your side at your waist and in line with the resonator. And the whole thing centrally under the lead roof of the church, so that once again – apart from the hourglass – everything is symmetrical.’ ‘How are we going to do the hourglass?’ asked Awg. ‘Together – one hand each,’ said Robo. He was determined not to be left out of anything this time. Lying flat on the floor they each reached above their heads and practised flipping it over. After a few tries, they could do it perfectly. They were ready. Gwen came to lunch. Not many words were spoken. Everyone felt increasingly uncomfortable.

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Finally, Awg said, ‘Look – we’ve practised what we have to do. Is there any reason we shouldn’t say our goodbyes and just go up to Llanclynnog and do it?’ ‘No, I don’t think so,’ said Benedict. * So they did.

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The Ashes of Stars

Twenty

BENEDICT’S DIARY

26th July We were like a group of pilgrims – a small procession winding its way up the valley towards Llanclynnog. Robo and Gwen led the way, followed by Joseph and Anne, and I walked with Awg at the rear. Awg was very quiet. I don’t think he was fearful of the journey itself, although he knew the risks. But I think the enormity of the task before him was beginning to sink in. Eventually, he spoke. I want to write down what we said, as near as I can remember. I think it is important. ‘D’you think we stand a chance?’ Awg spoke quite calmly. ‘Of averting the catastrophe?’ I replied. He nodded. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘A chance. There is always a chance, however slender.’ ‘Any advice?’ ‘There is no knowing what perils you may face. I will say only this: Do not throw your life away for no purpose.’ ‘One life’s nothing compared with the billions who are threatened.’ ‘No. You are wrong. Every single life is a sacred thing and is to be honoured and treasured. Never think of people as nameless masses. They are all individuals – some bad, some good, some loved, some hated – but all in principle of equal value. As their circumstances change, so do the labels we attach to them.’ ‘What about my label?’ Awg asked. ‘What d’ you think it’ll say?’ ‘I think people get themselves into a lot of trouble when they worry overmuch about their labels. Just try to let it say ‘He always did what he thought was right.’ ’

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‘But how will I know what that is?’ ‘You’ve not done too badly so far.’ ‘Thanks, Benedict.’ ‘Benedict?’ ‘Yes?’ ‘Will we meet again? I don’t think so. So I would like to thank you also.’ ‘What for?’ ‘For not screaming and running around in circles waving your arms.’ ‘That seems a long time ago.’ ‘Not to me. I go back a long way, remember? But that’s over now. You are the future, if we have one. You, and Robo, and Asa, and Zert.’ ‘Well – I’ll do my best.’ ‘Farewell Awg. And Good Luck!’ ‘Goodbye Benedict.’ We went into the church and helped them to arrange everything as we had planned. Then we left them. We waited outside for hours, but nothing happened. I had no idea what to expect but I did expect something. Poor Gwen was getting cold. She was very tearful and upset at leaving Robo. Anne and Joseph took her home. I promised to wait. Still nothing happened for several hours and I began to get anxious. I had almost decided to go back inside when I saw a strange thing. Some birds had been perching on the roof – several pigeons and a gull. They had been there since we arrived. Then, without warning, they all flew away, as if suddenly frightened. There had been no unusual noise or other disturbance that I was aware of. But then I noticed the window. I was sitting on the wall at the East end of the church. The East window contains some fragments of medieval glass (some of which I suspect originated at Llangarreg Priory) and is rather fine. I realised that the glass was glowing with light in the way I have seen it on sunlit winter mornings. Only – then, I was inside the building – and now I was outside. I waited until the brightness had died away and then cautiously opened the church door. The wood and stone of the interior looked as it usually did: quiet, dimly lit – and empty.

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28th July Now that the boys have gone (and I think about them every minute of every day) I have become the occupant of the upper room. Joseph and Anne have been wonderfully kind. I had some idea of trying to find lodging in one of the neighbouring farms – but they would not hear of it. Anne said that I should return to the house in which I dwelt and worked long ago, and live with them at Bryn Castell. I have to admit that this is truly what I would have wished, for there does seem to be a sort of rightness about it – a sense of coming home at last. I was afraid that Joseph would resent the presence of another stranger in his workshop but he actually seems to welcome it. We have spent many hours talking about the clockmaker’s art and he has even suggested that I might try my own hand again. I was at first excited at the prospect but now feel that it may not be wise. However, I was touched by his generosity. 3rd August Since coming back to Llangarreg, my heart has been at peace. I am ready to accept whatever the future brings. We all feel that we should spend as much of our time together as we can. Any day could be our last. There is a black cloud hovering over us all – over the whole of our Universe. It is impossible to forget. And yet, there is also a curious sense of disengagement, almost of relief, knowing that we ourselves can do nothing more. The problem has passed away from us. The fate of our world lies in the hands of others – far away, beyond our knowledge, and now completely out of reach.

The Matter of Dark

Twenty One

The carpet of blue seemed to stretch in all directions. Until it met the blue sky. Lying on his back, Awg turned his head from one side to the other. Nothing but blue. Everywhere. Not Wales. Definitely. He tried to sit up. This had the effect of spreading his massive headache to every other part of his body. His throat was parched, his tongue like leather. He rolled over on his side and lay still, his eyes closed. There was a slithering sound. Something touched his arm. There’s stuff on this planet you can’t even imagine. Zert’s warning flashed into his mind. It was not a good time to remember it. Awg steeled himself and opened his eyes. Then he relaxed, breathed deeply and waited until the pounding of his heart had returned to something like normal. In turning over he must have kicked his rucksack, which had toppled towards him. There was nothing else. He shut his eyes again and counted three good things. 1. I’ve survived the journey. 2. I’m not going to get slaughtered and eaten. Or at least, not immediately. 3. I’ve still got my rucksack. Then he opened his eyes wide and counted one very bad thing. Where the hell is Robo? He forced himself to sit up, clasped his hands around his knees and rocked gently backwards and forwards until the pain

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was a bit less. Then he opened his rucksack and pulled out one of the two large bottles of water he’d brought with him. They took up a lot of space but, knowing what he did about the effects of plasma transport and the lack of water on Zero, one thing he definitely needed to guard against was dehydration. Very slowly, he drank the whole bottle. Soon, he began to feel better. So The transport process has worked. But I’ve lost Robo. And I don’t know where I am. The amount of blue was worryingly reminiscent of something that had happened to him on his last visit to Zero. Awg had been sent to investigate a strange underground chamber – the ‘black coffin’ – and had found himself in the featureless white landscape of an extradimensional bubble where time and distance were bewilderingly distorted. It was time to try the rucksack test. With an effort he stood up and took a few steps. It was hard to keep his balance at first, but it got easier. He put his rucksack down by his feet and walked away from it, checking his watch as he did so. One pace, two paces, five paces, ten, twenty. Eighteen seconds. He turned around to look at his rucksack. It was exactly where it should be, twenty paces behind him. He walked back towards it. Five paces, ten, twenty – it was at his feet. Seventeen seconds – near enough. OK. It looked like this was a normal, three-dimensional place where the usual rules for movement and the passage of time behaved themselves. And where watches still worked. As Awg got moving he began to recover from his journey. And, as his body sorted itself out, so his brain also began to work properly. Awg soon realised that this was definitely no polydimensional illusion. In that first time bubble, everything had looked the same. And there was that peculiar translucent surface: glassy and smooth, but slightly flexible, like hard rubber.

The Matter of Dark

You could tell it was seriously weird. It was only there because something had to divide one globule of space-time from the next – and that was it. Otherwise it wouldn’t be there at all. And, given the right technology (like Zert’s silver cone) to deal with virtual surfaces, you could pass right through it. This blue stuff was nothing like that. It was – well – a bit like grass, mown really short; and a bit like moss, dense and springy; and a bit like lichen, because it was fairly spiky and not at all soft. It was some sort of plant, growing. And there was an awful lot of it. But, now he was standing up and walking around, Awg could see that the surface wasn’t completely flat, either. Behind him, the carpet of blue stretched, almost imperceptibly, upwards, until it merged into a hazily distant range of hills. In front of him the land curved gently downwards. From the sharpness of the horizon, Awg guessed that he was nearing the edge of a great upland. Awg sat down and ate the first of his food packs. Four more to go, and one bottle of water. He hoped that some sort of Zeroian search party was already out looking for him. And for Robo. A cloud passed across the sun and Awg felt a sudden chill. Time to get going. He set off down the slope. After an hour he was still descending, and the slope seemed to be getting steeper. In a further half-hour he reached the edge of the escarpment. The ground fell away before him and he found himself looking out across a vast plain. The overall blue colour still prevailed, but now he could make out lighter and darker patches – although whether they were hills and valleys, or just changes in the vegetation, he could not see. But what he could see, because it was impossible to miss, was the huge grey and white imprint upon the landscape at the foot of the escarpment – the unmistakable outline of a great city.

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Twenty Two

Awg knew of only three cities on Zero. The ancient city of Gexadkydubm, which was the capital and the seat of the Patrician. The virtual city of Auyvhasdh, which was the home of the Spyridi, and was not strictly on Zero at all. And Chykideyh, which was a city of aerial masts, the centre of Zero’s communications network. Awg had heard the Patrician’s daughter, Asa, speak of others. Presumably, this was one of them. There were no paths over the ridge, but neither was the descent particularly steep. Awg easily made his way down the slope, striding rapidly across the blue moss-grass. At first, there seemed to be no variation in the carpet of blue: no other plants, no flowers – and certainly no trees or shrubs. But at one point he could see an area of brighter colour: a circle of livid green about thirty yards across. He approached it cautiously – which was just as well for, when he was still some yards away, his foot broke through the surface and he sank in up to his knee. He threw himself backwards and pulled his leg out without difficulty, but it would have been a different story if he had just blundered onwards towards the green. As it was, his trainer and jeans were soaking wet and covered in foul-smelling black mud. He continued downwards, keeping a very sharp look out for any other changes in the landscape. There were no more circles of green mire, but, at one point, a broad track cut across his path. As wide as a road, its surface was smooth and glistening white. Awg began to walk across, but as soon as he touched

The Matter of Dark

the white surface his feet slipped from under him and he went sprawling. He tried to get up but the surface was like oiled glass. Hands and feet could find not the slightest grip. He managed to aim a kick at his rucksack, which span away to the far side, and he eventually succeeded in rolling across to the same point. He dug his fingers into the moss-grass at the side of the track and hauled himself off the treacherous road. It seemed to come down from some point high up on the plateau and head towards the city at its foot. Awg decided to follow its path – but keeping a respectful distance from its ice-smooth surface. By this time, he had expected to see some sort of welcoming party: people coming up out of the city or maybe a helicar or two in the air. There was nothing. And, more than that, there was not the slightest sound or movement anywhere. He trudged onwards. As he drew closer to the city, Awg could begin to make out the shapes of the buildings. They were not like anything he had seen on Zero before. Not like the stepped pyramids of Gexadkydubm’s administrative centre, or the square, flatroofed houses of its Old City; nor resembling the cleanlyfunctional architecture of Auyvhasdh’s university quarter or the sphere-and-tunnel structures of the Spyridi city. Here were streets of lofty buildings decorated with columns, arches and skilfully-crafted stonework; towers of white marble (or some material very much like it) ornamented with an inlay of grey and black patterns in the same smooth stone. These were classical structures laid out on a huge scale: buildings designed to impress. But to impress whom, or what? At the first group of buildings, the white track met a more conventional roadway made of stone blocks. But the glistening path continued, now as a perilously smooth strip down the side of the – obviously older – avenue. As Awg marched along the stone road, the regular beat of his tread reverberated amongst the tall buildings. It was the only sound in the air. He stopped for a moment – and, when the echoes of his footsteps had died away, the silence was absolute. Nothing moved. Tufts of the

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blue moss-grass thrust upwards around the edges of the stone blocks, and through cracks in the stones themselves at points where the slabs had broken. Awg found himself reminded of the approach to the Patrician’s palace in Gexadkydubm where he had sensed a similar atmosphere of neglect and decline. Awg walked straight onwards, resisting for the moment the temptation to explore the side streets. He would cross the city and see what was on the other side. Sooner or later he would be sure to find some signs of life. The wide, stone block road was clearly one of the main thoroughfares. After about a mile, the avenue opened out into a spacious square, ringed by silent white buildings. In the centre was what Awg at first took to be the ruins of a further large building – a huge pile of white rubble. Only when Awg went over to examine the pile more closely did he find that it wasn’t rubble. It was a vast pile of bones. Skulls grinned out on every side. The skeletal pillars of what had once been limbs poked out at crazy angles. Backbones and rib cages hung drunkenly and precariously at the edges. It was a mountain of decay. Some of the remains looked almost human, but brief scrutiny showed that this was not the case. Awg pulled at a strange and unfamiliar bone to examine it more closely. This proved to be a serious mistake. No sooner had the alien bone come away from the pile than several more followed it. Then a skull rolled down from much higher up, followed quickly by two others. As Awg stepped back in alarm, a complete skeleton crashed down, missing him by a fraction. Then the whole side of the heap gave way, burying him up to the waist in a landslide of death. Bones rained down on him, and, cracking and grinding, the entire pile was on the move: bouncing, rolling, sliding, crashing to the ground. Awg struggled to free himself but could not. And then the drumming began.

The Matter of Dark

Twenty Three

BOOM ! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM ! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM ! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM ! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Black waves of sound raced round the square, ricocheting off the naked stone faces of the buildings, reverberating in every tiny crack and echoing space. BOOM ! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM ! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Awg clapped his hands over his ears to shut out the mindnumbing din. He waited for something to happen, for doors to open, for people to appear, for some unseen enemy to attack. For the dead bones to come alive. There was nothing. BOOM ! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! It was as if he had been observing the petrified white city from the far side of a soundproof window which had suddenly and violently shattered. Awg eased his fingers away until some of the sound came back, and he struggled to locate its source. Despite the treachery of the echoes, he was getting more and more sure that the sound was coming from the tall white tower at the opposite side of the square. Near the top was some sort of balcony. Statues of alien creatures looked down from it, and gargoyles with impossible faces leered out at its corners. The origin of the drumming was from somewhere within. Awg struggled to free himself from the bone pile which threatened to engulf him. Every time he tried to clear a space

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in the graveyard around his body, other gruesome relics rattled down to refill it. But his arms were still free, and, in desperation, he grabbed some of the nearest and largest bones and forced them into gaps in the pile above his head. Then he arranged other pieces across them to make a rough lattice. Despite several collapses, he eventually managed to stabilise his grisly scaffolding. This Lego tower of ghost limbs held back the deluge of bony missiles from above and he was then able to kick a hole in the pile around his feet. Awg levered his body out of the pit he’d created and threw himself clear. As he rolled across the flagstones a new avalanche of skulls and vertebrae swept down to bury the hole he had occupied just seconds before. Uggghhhhhh. BOOM ! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM ! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The sound was definitely coming from the top of that tower. Awg made his way towards it, passing in a wide sweep around the mountain of bones. Even walking close to them was creepy. At the base of the tower, the huge metal hinges of a longdecayed door hung slantwise across the opening. They were the first objects Awg had seen that were not made of stone. He dodged around them and began to climb the wide stone stairs. Each step displayed the fine workmanship that Awg had seen everywhere, many different shades of the marble-like material being fitted expertly together. At each turn of the stair, roundtopped stone windows let in the air and light. BOOM ! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The huge sound thundered down the stairwell. BOOM ! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM ! da-BOOM! da-BOOM! da-BOOM! Da-BOOM-da! Da-BOOM-da! Da-BOOM-da! DaBOOM-da! BOOM-da-BOOM! BOOM-da-BOOM! BOOM-daBOOM-da-BOOM! BOOM-da-BOOM-da-BOOM-daBOOM-da ……….. The drumming grew more and more complex.

The Matter of Dark

Awg paused on the stair, mesmerised, his fear ebbing away. BOOM-da-BOOM-BOOM-da-BOOM-BOOM-daBOOM-da-BOOM-da-BOOM-da ……….. It was beginning to sound more and more familiar. And it was speeding up. BOOM-da-BOOM-da-BOOM-da-BOOM-da-BOOMda-BOOM-da-BOOM-da-BOOM-da ……….. Finally, it burst into the riff that wound up one of his favourite Blue Animals tracks. Awg knew only one other person who could play the drums like that. He ran up the rest of the stairs and burst out on to an airy platform, open on four sides, where a figure in camouflage cargoes and a leather jacket was seated at a huge metal drum. The figure looked up with a wicked grin on his face. Awg ran over and thumped him on the back. ‘You mad devil! You absolute weirdo! Jeez – am I glad to see you!’

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Twenty Four

‘It’s all gone wrong,’ said Robo. ‘It’s nothing like you said – and there’s nobody here. Nobody alive, anyway.’ He got up, walked to the edge of the platform, and looked down on the deserted square. ‘See? Not a damn soul.’ ‘What you doing up here, anyway?’ asked Awg, still trying to get over the shock. ‘I thought I’d make as much din as possible. Then if there was anyone around, they’d be sure to come and sort me out. And I knew you’d show up sooner or later. You always do. Benedict says you’ve got a charmed life.’ Awg was dumbstruck. Robo had been through a plasma transport beam for the first time, passed into a different Universe, and landed up in a ghost city – and seemed completely unfazed by everything. ‘Are you all right? D’you feel OK? I mean … what happened when you first arrived?’ ‘I’m fine. Well, I did feel pretty shagged when I first woke up. But I remembered what you’d told me and had something to eat and drink – and then I was fine. At least, until I found the first bone pile – I admit that was a bit of a bummer.’ ‘The first bone pile?’ ‘Yeah – there’s loads of them. I counted eight so far. So it looks as if we’ve screwed up. We’ve arrived in the future. Too late. The catastrophe’s already happened and all your mates are dead.’

The Matter of Dark

Awg sat down heavily on the stone floor. It felt very hard and very cold. ‘No … no. It can’t be. It’s impossible.’ ‘Look – you told me there’s no link between the time in Zero’s universe and the time in our own. And Benedict’s rule says that these journeys always take you forward in time – the problem is, you never know how much. Well, we’ve gone too far. It must be because the beam systems were all screwed up. Benedict said we’d get the best shot they could manage, but there was no betting it would work. Well, it hasn’t.’ ‘So – d’you think we’re the only beings left alive in the entire universe?’ asked Awg. ‘Which universe d’you mean? If the big firework really has gone off, there’s nothing left of Earth’s universe. But most of Zero’s is supposed to survive.’ ‘Maybe the planets have survived but life hasn’t,’ said Awg, deathly white. ‘And we’re all that’s left.’ He buried his face in his hands. ‘Sorry – but I just can’t get my head around this.’ * ‘What the hell are you doing?’ ‘C’mon Robo. You’re the one that’s good at puzzles – AND you know about fossils and stuff like that.’ They had eaten a very sombre meal and then left the tower to explore the rest of the city together. As they passed yet another bone pile, Awg had suddenly dashed across and begun pulling items out on to the surrounding pavement. Very carefully, this time. ‘C’mon Robo! You’re keen on body building.’ ‘Yeah – but not this sort.’ ‘Just get on with it. Let’s see what these guys looked like.’ After about an hour, they had made a rough assembly of five skeletons. ‘Think they were children?’ asked Robo.

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‘Could be – but there’s no bigger skulls in this pile, at least.’ ‘So – animal-like but quite small. Very odd-shaped heads. Long backs. And six limbs. Wow! They’re nothing like you said – the three peoples.’ ‘No, that’s the point.’ Awg’s face had lost its ashen pallor and he was beginning to look more like his usual self. ‘They’re not humanoids, certainly not zwnerbas and definitely not spyridi.’ ‘There could be other sorts you didn’t see.’ ‘I don’t think so. The reason these are here is – that this isn’t Zero.’ ‘What!’ ‘There’s been lots of clues, but I kept ignoring them because I wanted it to be Zero. But it isn’t. ‘There’s nothing on Zero like this blue moss-grass. It’s mostly scrub and desert, with yellow-brown rocks and spiny bushes. And there’s water here. I almost fell into a sort of bog-hole on my way down. And there’s clouds in the sky. I never saw any on Zero.’ ‘All that could be different if we’re a long way into the future. Loads of stuff could have happened to the climate and vegetation. Or you might be somewhere you didn’t go before.’ ‘No. It’s not right. It’s all going the wrong way. And there’s a clincher. Look at the sun. Well, not right at it – you know what I mean.’ ‘It’s very small and very bright.’ ‘Yeah – it’s a young star. Zero’s sun was on the way out – big and very red. This isn’t Zero. We’re on an unknown planet.’

The Matter of Dark

Twenty Five

‘How long d’you think we’ve been here now – since we arrived?’ asked Robo. ‘If this watch is working the same way as on Earth, then for me it’s been twenty-eight hours and thirteen minutes.’ ‘And so … ?’ ‘Yeah, I know. The sun does look a bit lower in the sky, but not much. Weird. Must be a very big planet.’ ‘No, can’t be.’ ‘Because … ?’ ‘How high can you jump?’ Awg jumped. Up and down, in a very ordinary way. ‘I see what you mean. It’s around the same size as Earth. So it’s got to be the rotation.’ ‘Yep. Very slow.’ ‘Maybe it doesn’t rotate at all. Is that possible?’ ‘I think so. I don’t think there’s any rule that says a planet has to rotate. And I know Mercury turns very slowly – so its day is about two Earth months long.’ Awg gasped. ‘Holy Moly! A night out on Mercury would really be something to remember!’ ‘It’d be a short memory. The temperature goes down to –200 C and there’s hardly any atmosphere.’ ‘So that’s another similar thing. Wherever we are’s got about the same atmosphere as Earth. We can breathe just about the same as normal.’ Robo shouldered his rucksack and turned back the way they had come.

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‘Well – I’m knackered,’ he said. ‘And I need some sleep. So if it’s never getting dark, I’m just going to rest anyway.’ They returned to the drum tower and made themselves as comfortable as they could on the darkest part of the stairs. They chatted and dozed. * ‘D’you think it was some sort of warning system?’ ‘The drum up there? Yeah – I should think so. Obviously didn’t work – or they sounded it too late. Whatever it was got to them first.’ ‘Yeah – whatever it was.’ * ‘What were you using as drumsticks?’ ‘Better not to ask. Couldn’t find anything else. Anyway, I put ’em back on the same pile afterwards.’ * Neither Awg nor Robo slept properly, but the rest was better than nothing. They ate another food pack each and drank some water. Both knew that soon their supplies would run out. They wandered on through the city, stopping occasionally to explore the deserted buildings. In some were the remains of stone bowls and drinking vessels, a few containing resinous traces of their former contents. In one room, a low stone slab still showed the fibrous remnants of the cloth bedding that had once covered it. At the far edge of the city, the road and the streets of buildings came to an end in a broad strip of stone paving. This stretched away to the left and right and was bounded at the opposite edge by a low wall of stone blocks. Most of these were of a regular rectangular pattern but some were much bigger and contained

The Matter of Dark

large holes bored right through them towards the upper edge. Awg and Robo walked across to the wall. They looked out upon a huge swamp of oozing green slime. The glistening white track, which had everywhere formed a strip along the side of the stone block road across the city, here ended in a ramp which descended at a gentle angle through a break in the wall and into the morass. Robo ran his hand across its surface. ‘Wow – that’s SO slippery! What the hell is it for?’ ‘I don’t know, but it goes right up into the plains behind the city.’ They left the ramp behind them and walked along the paved edge of the swamp. ‘Look – over here!’ Awg was peering into the swamp at a point just below one of the large holed blocks. Jutting out of the gunge was a slender black platform which tapered towards them to a point. The upper side of the platform, where it descended into the slime, had been hollowed out. ‘It’s a boat! It’s the prow of a boat!’ Awg leant over to get a closer look. ‘Watch out! If you fall in that lot, you’ll be a goner.’ ‘It’s OK. I wanted to feel it, to see what it was made of. I think it’s lava. The surface is rough and it’s got loads of little holes all over it. It’s a boat made out of pumice, or something like that.’ ‘So – a stone that could be made to float,’ said Robo. ‘And look at this.’ He pointed to the holed stone above the boat. Around the lower lip of the hole were shreds of fibre. ‘A stone boat was moored here – with some sort of rope.’ ‘So this swamp was once a lake,’ said Awg. ‘And we’ve been walking along the promenade. People – beings – came for a stroll along here on a Sunday afternoon to watch the boats.’ He looked suddenly sheepish. ‘Well, you know what I mean. And then something happened

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and they all got the chop. And now the lake’s a swamp and – Robo … ’ ‘What?’ ‘ … there’s something else.’ Ahead of them, by the wall at the edge of the promenade, was a stone pedestal. And on top of it was an object that looked very out of place. But it was something that Awg had seen before.

The Matter of Dark

Twenty Six

In the first place, it was made not of stone but of metal and glass. On the top was a black cube screen, and below this was a small platform on which were traced the outlines of fingers. It was the same type of communication device that Awg had found in the Town House in Gexadkydubm. ‘Wheeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwww! Am I glad to see that! We’re saved!’ ‘Yeah – but what the hell is it?’ asked Robo. ‘It’s a sort of phone – and it’s made by the Spyridi. Here, look!’ Awg searched around the black cube screen for the small icon he knew would be there somewhere. ‘Yeeesssssssss!’ On the bottom right hand corner of one of the cube faces was a strange symbol, a bit like a child’s drawing of the sun:

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‘It’s a sort of spyridi trademark. They put it on everything they make. So they’ve been here, and there must be some connection with planet Zero.’ ‘How’s it work, then?’ ‘I think you ought to try it. But I warn you, it’s not like using a mobile. You don’t have to say stuff, just think it. And you don’t actually have to look at the screen once you’ve got started.’ Robo gave him a funny look and strode up to the stone plinth. He spread out his hand on to the finger-spaces. The cube began to glow and a line of hieroglyphic symbols appeared on its surface. ‘That’s the message in the Zeroian language,’ said Awg helpfully. Robo half-turned. ‘That’s no sodding good. How am I supposed to … ’ ‘Just look,’ said Awg. The display had changed. It now said: welcome to our city please press the tab to summon assistance we thank the communications network of planet zero for providing this facility ‘Now move you head away and look somewhere else,’ said Awg. ‘Aaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!’ ‘Just take your fingers off the pad and the message’ll disappear. And don’t press that button !!!’ ‘I could still see the words when I looked away,’ said Robo, in a state of shock. ‘They just sort of … hung in the air.’ ‘Yeah. They were inside your head. Neat, isn’t it? The machine translates the meaning of whatever language is on the screen into symbols you can understand.’ ‘It was scary. And what’s going to happen if we press that tab?’

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‘I’m not sure. It’s a bit worrying.’ ‘How d’you mean?’ ‘Well – it all depends on how up to date that message is. If it’s really ancient, then probably nothing’ll happen. But if it’s more recent, then perhaps something will – and I’m not sure I want to see it.’ ?????????????? ‘Well, this seems to be a city of the dead … ’ continued Awg. ‘You don’t mean you think it’ll raise the dead?’ ‘Perhaps this city isn’t empty after all.’ ‘You mean it’s a city of ghosts – and if you hit that button it might be like Aragorn and the Paths of the Dead?’ ‘It’s not something I want to find out about. Don’t forget I’ve already had one brush with a thing that could disappear into another set of dimensions.’ ‘The pan-object. The pebble?’ ‘Yep.’ ‘But surely that was scary in a completely different way. Scary like it might have blasted you all into animal confetti. I think if there was anything here that was like the oath-breakers, we’d have already been scared shitless. And I don’t feel at all threatened. Just very lonely. If there’s a chance of making contact with someone helpful, we’ve got to take it.’ ‘Go, then. Press the button.’ Robo did. Nothing happened. At first. Awg was standing with his back to the swamp. The first indication that help was on its way was the look on Robo’s face. He was staring at something over Awg’s shoulder and his face had turned the colour that you get if you go over a yellow highlighter pen with a green highlighter pen. Then he doubled over and threw up.

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Twenty Seven

Awg had three thoughts very quickly one after the other. The first was, I think I want to run away very fast. The second was, that would be rather tough on Robo. And the third was, I’m glad I remember what Zert said about the Nerians, because that makes things a whole lot easier. Oozing up the ramp out of the swamp was a slug-like object about the size of a small car. It was composed primarily of green slime, although its translucent nature allowed the livid purple nodules distributed throughout its bulk to be clearly identified. It made its way along to the communication device and spread itself out on the rear of its base. Awg could now see that what he had taken to be a particularly smooth flagstone was in fact a large plate of black glass. The Nerian was clearly waiting for something, so Awg himself approached the communicator. Seeing what was happening, Robo did the same, coughing and wiping the mess off the front of his jacket. They stood one each side of the screencube which at once came to life. Welcome. We have been expecting you. Do not be embarrassed, Robo. Regrettably, we have that effect on many articulated life forms. I am sorry. I assume you are a Nerian. [Awg] That is correct. Before you is our city. But we thought it was deserted. [Robo]

The Matter of Dark

The city of stone behind you is deserted. The city of water before you contains almost the entire population of our people. The swamp is a city? [Robo] Of course. Regrettably, it offers neither food nor shelter to your kind. I am sorry. So who lived in the stone city? [Awg] They were a cultured but primitive people who lived here for many millennia. Sadly, their sun developed a temporary instability – we think that it was probably hit by a comet. a huge solar flare bathed the planet in a wave of intense radiation which extinguished nearly all life. Only a few strains of bacteria remained. And the blue moss-grass? [Robo] No. We introduced that. It is our food. How did you travel here? [Awg] The Zeroians alerted us to the vacancy. The original inhabitants had been dead for many years and the Zeroians helped us move in. In return, we supplied them with critical scientific data which they lacked. Our home planet was in terminal decline. The temperature here is much more to our taste and we soon adapted the lake to our requirements. The stone city is of no use to us, although we did collect up the bodies. The unfortunate people were scattered about everywhere. It was most distressing. You said you were expecting us. [Awg] That is correct. Xurog asked us to assist in monitoring your transfer. When it became apparent that an error was developing, we intercepted you for safety reasons. Otherwise, you could have been lost. Loss of coordinates? [Awg] That is correct. You are well informed. In the current circumstances it is a constant problem. What will happen to us now? [Awg]

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when you have rested sufficiently, we will complete your transfer to zero under closely controlled conditions. Do you have any further questions? Only that we have nowhere to rest. [Awg] when I said that we could offer neither food nor shelter I was referring only to our city itself. You would not find its facilities at all to your liking. However, we frequently entertain other peoples here. you will find all you need in the building at the far end of the promenade. Stating your names and mission controller will gain you admittance. Goodbye – for the time being.

The Nerian oozed back down the ramp and disappeared into the swamp. ‘Well, now we know what the white track’s for,’ said Awg. ‘It’s how they get about.’ ‘Yeah. They said that blue stuff was their food. Perhaps they all trog up into the hills to graze – like a herd of jellyblob cows.’ ‘Could be. Glad I didn’t meet them up there.’ They walked along the promenade together, towards a group of low buildings they could now just make out in the distance. Robo was unusually quiet at first. Then he said: ‘D’you remember the first conversation we had – the very first one? After you’d blurted out that stuff about hyper-intelligent spiders and silver aliens to that dork Crutchley?’ ‘I remember you said you actually believed I could have travelled to another universe. I was so glad somebody did.’ ‘Yeah. And when we talked together at Marsh Lane, you told me all about the amazing stuff you’d seen on Zero. But never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I’d be doing any of this – travelling in time and space, meeting aliens … . And then, the first time didn’t work and I got left behind in Llangarreg. And I was so gutted.’ ‘But this time it did,’ said Awg. ‘And you’re on an unknown planet, in a different universe.’

The Matter of Dark

‘Yeah. And today – just a few minutes ago – I met my first alien.’ Robo stopped for a moment, and stared down at his feet. ‘And what I’ve realised is that, actually, we’re the aliens here. This is someone else’s planet. And they’re looking after us, and being kind to us. I was scared when that blob appeared – but they’ve already accepted us. And I wondered what would happen if the tables were turned and they came to visit Earth. And I think I know. And I feel ashamed.’

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Twenty Eight

At the end of the promenade they found a small complex of interlinked buildings. Awg recognised them as being very similar to the accommodation blocks in the student village at Auyvhasdh. Separate sections had been built to cater for the differing shape and size requirements of different life forms. Awg and Robo approached what seemed to be the main entrance, but found the door securely shut and with no obvious means of opening. ‘What was it the Nerian told us?’ said Awg. ‘Just say your names and who sent you,’ answered Robo. He went up to the door and said ‘We are Allardyce Bradley and Jonathan Robertson from planet Earth. Xurog and Benedict sent us.’ Nothing happened. ‘I think you’re being too posh,’ said Awg. He went up and rapped on the door. ‘Come on! It’s Awg and Robo, sent by Xurog and Benedict. Open up!’ The door slid back. On the wall inside, they found a diagram showing the layout of the accommodation. There were representations of the different types of guests expected. ‘This section looks like it’s for humans.’ ‘Humanoids,’ corrected Awg. ‘Humans come from Earth. But there’s others.’ He suddenly realised he didn’t know how many. The native Zeroians were human-like – but maybe there were similar ones from other places. It was an interesting thought.

The Matter of Dark

They found the rooms on the upper floor and chose one with two beds in it. Somehow, the idea of spending the night alone in separate rooms on an alien planet was not appealing. If things did go bump in the night, the idea of having each other for company definitely seemed a good idea. To their surprise, their window looked out upon a section of the lake that was still a lake – although whether this was for the scenic benefit of visitors or for some more practical reason they never discovered. Awg showed Robo the control by the window that altered the amount of light coming in (exactly the same as in his old room in Auyvhasdh). It was just beginning to dawn on him how much he himself had got used to living in alien worlds, and how very strange it must all be for Robo. He had become, almost without realising it, quite a seasoned traveller in time and space. Down on the ground floor again, they went in search of food and drink. Robo had wanted to try out one of the cylindrical lifts, but Awg was still wary of them after his experiences in the desert prisons and preferred the safety of the stairs and ramps. They found a spacious room fitted out with what could loosely be called tables and chairs – but in reality was a mixture of all the possible arrangements which could be imagined for the purpose of sitting, standing or lying at all levels. In the centre of the room was a small fountain of flowing water with a selection of cups, siphons and tubes – so that it was clearly meant for drinking as well as decoration. Connected by further tubes was a shallow tank in which a variety of fruits and vegetables were growing. ‘There’s a word for it,’ said Awg. ‘But I can’t think of it.’ ‘Hydroponics,’ said Robo. ‘How d’you remember all that stuff?’ ‘I dunno. It sort of sticks, somehow. But there’s loads of stuff I do forget, or don’t understand. Like – how all this works. What powers it – and what sort of power? Nothing’s connected by wires or anything.’

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‘You’ll have to wait and ask Zert. I think a lot of it’s basically electrical, but it’s generated and switched and transmitted in ways we don’t have back on Earth.’ They went over to look at the fruit and vegetables. Once again, Awg’s experience came in handy. ‘Those red ones taste a bit like oranges – and the small green ones are like grapes. There’s quite a few I haven’t seen before, though.’ Robo reached out his hand towards a bunch of purple berries. They looked very much like blueberries. ‘Ouch! That hurt!’ ‘What’s up?’ ‘I got an electric shock.’ ‘How can you get an electric shock from blueberries?’ ‘It wasn’t from them. I got the shock before I touched them. You try it if you don’t believe me.’ Awg tried it. ‘Aarrrgghhh! You’re right. I wonder … ’ Awg stretched out his hand towards the red pseudo-oranges. He picked one off the stem easily. ‘You know what I think?’ he said. ‘There’s no signs saying zwnerbas shouldn’t eat this, or humanoids will get gut-ache if they take one of these. But it stands to reason there must be stuff like that. It’s a safety system – to stop you eating something you shouldn’t.’ ‘But how the hell’s it know who should eat what?’ ‘Dunno. How does the plasma transport system work?’ ‘OK. Point taken.’ Robo took another of the red oranges. Better safe than sorry. All along one wall were rows of small cupboards with transparent fronts. Inside were sealed packs of food. ‘How d’you get into them?’ asked Robo. ‘No idea. The food in the students’ canteen was always out in the open.’ Robo touched one of the small windows. At once the front dropped out of sight so that you could get to what was inside.

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He took the pack out and tore it open. ‘What you got?’ ‘Looks like a sort of wafer.’ He bit into it. ‘It’s OK – there some sort of cheesy stuff inside.’ Awg made a selection and tapped the window he’d chosen. It didn’t open. He tried another – and this opened at once. Robo laughed. ‘It’s the same thing. Your clever friends won’t let you choose something that’s bad for you. The first one you tried’s got a yellow mark by it. Perhaps that means poison or something.’ Awg touched the yellow mark – and jumped about a foot in the air. ‘More electric shocks?’ ‘No. It was a message. Like the thing on the prom. I saw writing. It said caution – high element 16 ‘What’s element 16?’ Robo thought for a moment. ‘In the Periodic Table it’s sulphur – atomic number 16. That’s got to be the same here, I should think. Perhaps that’s why the mark was yellow.’ ‘Yeeessssss! That’s it. I remember now. I never met any, but there was a type of people that had to have a high-sulphur diet. There were notices in the canteen warning humanoids off the stuff.’ ‘That’s a lucky escape, then.’ ‘Yeah. I’m glad I didn’t eat any.’ ‘You’re glad! I meant it was a lucky escape for me! There’s no way I’m going to share a room with you if you’ve been wolfing down a load of sulphurous food. It’d be like spending a night in a stink bomb factory!’

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101

Twenty Nine

Robo couldn’t sleep. Too many things had happened. Most of them he could hardly believe had taken place at all. But he knew this wasn’t a dream, and he wouldn’t wake up and find everything was OK with the world. Things were horribly serious, and he and Awg were in a desperate race against time. It looked as if they’d get to Zero soon and then the battle would really begin. Against whom, or what? How could you fight a galaxy? He had no idea what he should do, or where he should do it, or even whether anything he did would make the slightest difference. All he knew was that he wanted to try. And somehow get to see his father again. He wondered about Gwen. Was she thinking about him, or just too terrified that doom for everyone was approaching? Then he smiled to himself. Knowing Gwen, she would be getting on with her everyday life and trying to help her parents keep their farm going. It was a tough life, and there was no sense in worrying about things way out of your control. All the same, he did hope she was thinking about him – just a bit … He got up quietly so as not to disturb Awg, who was sound asleep. He crept down to the large room where the food and drink were, and helped himself to some water and a few of the green pseudo-grapes. No shocks with these, so Awg had been right. Then he went back upstairs and wandered along the upper corridor. He went into one of the single rooms they’d looked at earlier before deciding to stick together. He walked over to

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the window and looked out. It was still daylight. No sign of approaching dark. No sign of anything, in fact. Apart from a few clouds the sky was empty, and the waters of the lake were calm and undisturbed. Robo started to experiment with the variable light control. Not too much mystery there. He’d encountered varilight windows and lenses back on Earth. But this was certainly very neat, and the response was immediate. Turn it this way and the window becomes fully transparent. Turn it the other way and the glass dims until no light is coming through and the room is dark. But the room wasn’t dark – because a small lamp by the bed had come on automatically. He wondered how the lamp worked. The light at the top came from a small glass bead. The beam seemed to radiate evenly from all over. There was no bright centre that might indicate a filament or focus point. Probably some sort of fluorescent device, perhaps not so very different from strip lights back on Earth. But what powered it? It was not attached to anything. He picked it up and found that the bottom part was slightly loose. He worked it from side to side and found that it unscrewed. A few turns, and the base plate had come away in his hand. He turned the lamp on its edge and looked inside. No wires, no battery, nothing inside that he recognised. Just a small, flat cylinder of dull grey metal. It seemed to be made in two halves as there was a faint line running all the way around the outside edge. Robo took out his Swiss Army knife, selected the small screwdriver and pressed it against the line, trying to force open a small crack. It didn’t want to open. Robo pressed a little harder. There was a loud humming noise. Robo pressed a little harder still and twisted the screwdriver. Someone shone a blinding light into his eyes. Someone else grabbed him by the feet and whirled him round and round.

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Someone else hit him over the head with a blunt, heavy object. At least, that’s what it felt like. But there was no one else in the room.

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Thirty

It was an alarm. Awg woke with a start. It was definitely an alarm. A high-pitched, intermittent warning note. Did it mean the place was on fire? Was the building being attacked? He’d better get out. They’d better get out. Then he saw that Robo’s bed was empty, his rucksack on the floor, his jacket draped over it. He must have got out already. Surely not? Robo’d never run and leave someone else at risk. Impossible. So where the hell was he? Awg grabbed his own stuff and hammered down the stairs. No one in the entrance lobby. No one in the food hall. No smoke. No fire. No shells crashing through the walls. Nothing anywhere. Except the shrieking of the alarm. And then it stopped. The silence itself came as a shock. Awg stood rooted to the spot. Not because of the silence, but because of what the silence contained. For within it there was a tiny sound, an infinitesimal ripple on the pool of stillness. Very, very faint. A voice. A familiar voice. ‘Awg! Awg!’ It was distorted and artificial – like a voice made of plastic – and he couldn’t make out where it was coming from. He ran back upstairs, and the sound was there too, just as faint and distorted as before. ‘Awg! Awg!’

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105

Awg rushed wildly about, searching for its source. ‘Awg! Press the stud!’ Awg was frantic. ‘What stud for chrissake?’ He sat down on the stairs and ran his hand through his hair. ‘Awg! Press the stud!’ The voice was nearer than ever. And then he got it. Awg pressed the stud on his watch. The stud that Zert had added the second time he modified the watch. ‘ ’Bout time. Listen!’ Now the voice was loud and clear. ‘Zert – is that really you?’ ‘Yessss. Listen! You’re in danger. There’s bin a prohibited event in the plasma transport system. The Nerians’re panicking ’cos they think you’re makin’ ’em a target. You both gotta leave. Now.’ ‘But I can’t find Robo. He’s not here.’ ‘Whaddyamean he’s not there? The Nerians reported “safe interception, two solid-framed bipeds, identities as specified”. Last night. Did they screw up?’ ‘No, we both arrived safely. Not together, but we met up and got to the hostel. But when I woke up this morning there was an alarm going off and Robo wasn’t in the room. I can’t find him anywhere.’ ‘Go do a building scan.’ ‘What?’ ‘When’ya got to the hostel, was there a sort o’ map inside with all the rooms marked?’ ‘Yeah. There was a diagram on the wall.’ ‘Go back to it an’ find the scan button. It’ll be black, and prob’bly at the bottom.’ ‘But … ’ ‘Do it!’ Awg raced over to the wall plan. He hadn’t realised it was an active one. There were a series of tabs at the bottom. He pressed the black one. A bright dot immediately appeared and Awg could see it was exactly at the point where he was standing.

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Zert’s voice came on at once. ‘So, how many finds – how many lights come on?’ ‘Just one, and it’s me.’ ‘OK, so he’s not inside. Is there any reason he mighta gone out?’ ‘No. And I’m sure he would have woken me up or left some sort of note if he’d done that.’ ‘OK, so we gotta get you out at least. Go down to the basement an’ get yourself into the transfer chamber. It’ll be just like the one you used here on Zero. Hit the stud again when you’re ready to go.’ ‘But I can’t go without Robo.’ ‘You got to. There’s no knowin’ what’s happened to him an’ we gotta get you out ’fore you’re taken as well.’ ‘Taken?’ ‘Get down to the chamber.’ Awg did as he was told, and he was scared. He’d never known Zert like this. He gathered up all his own stuff, and Robo’s as well, and went to the basement. There he found a spherical chamber very much like the one that had been used on Zero for previous journeys. There were two bunks in the centre. He put the rucksacks and Robo’s jacket on one and strapped himself into the other. Then he unstrapped himself, got up, found the control which closed the double doors, and then strapped himself in again. He grinned at his stupidity, feeling glad to have at least something to relieve the heaviness in his heart. Another thought. Awg leaned across to his rucksack and took a small box from one of the side pockets. He stuffed the translocution modules firmly into his ears and replaced the box. Now he would be able to understand what was said to him when he woke up. He forced himself to think when and not if. Plasma transport was risky at the best of times. And these weren’t the best of times. The lights went out. It was pitch black, cold and eerily silent.

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107

He felt for the stud on his watch, pressed it, and waited. He wondered what the ‘prohibited event’ was, and whether the transfer system would work at all. He wondered what was happening on Zero and if he would ever get there. He wondered whether Asa and her father, the Patrician, had lost control. Most of all, he wondered what had happened to Robo. He was still wondering when everything went white, before the darkness swallowed him up.

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Thirty One

‘OK – that was easier than we expected!’ Awg had never been more glad to hear Zert’s voice. Well, almost never. There had been that time on Morvkd when he believed … he didn’t want to think about it. He opened his eyes, found Zert staring down at him – and gave a little, involuntary jump. Perhaps you never did get completely used to it. Looking quickly around, he could see he was in the familiar spherical chamber at Auyvhasdh transfer terminal. That was a relief. At least the journey to planet Zero had gone without a hitch. Zert handed him a tube of clear, slightly greenish liquid. ‘You better drink this. An’ don’ try an’ get up. You knows the drill by now: drink – rest – recover. Then you gets up. An’ sorry ’bout the hassle to pull you off Qun real quick.’ The liquid was slightly salty and tasted of lime. Or something a bit like lime, but not lime. ‘Qun?’ ‘Yeah. The planet you was on. It was the Nerians – they hates any sort o’ trouble. Always wanna be neutral. So they helps us with your transfer, ’cos it looked routine. But soon as the alarms went off, they panicked. They’re a weird lot. Brilliant, though.’ Coming from one of the Spyridi, that was a pretty amazing statement. ‘But why did the alarms go off?’ asked Awg. ‘Dunno. Prohibited event. Way things are, plasma transport system’s mighty closely controlled an’ monitored. Everythin’s locked down real tight. So if somethin’ goes through the works you didn’ set up nor expect – wham! you’re in deep shit.’

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109

‘And that’s what happened?’ ‘Yep. Funny thing is, we can’t analyse it. Usually, we gotta complete track o’ every event. But not this one. The trace’s in there all right – but there’s absolutely no record o’ what it was. Hence the panic. Could be transfer in or transfer out. Could be a single being or a medium-size object. Not an army, or anythin’ real big like that. Can tell that from the size o’ the blip. That’s ’bout all, though!’ ‘D’you think it was Robo? It seems too much of a coincidence that he went missing at the same time.’ ‘Hope not. That’d mean a real escalation.’ ‘Escalation in what?’ ‘Sharibvdl’s activities. Him an’ others. There’s been abductions, threats. But so far jus’ physical kidnappin’s, an’ all on Zero itself. If he’s somehow got into the plasma transport system an’ can use it … ’ ‘So that’s what you meant when you said Robo might have been ‘taken’.’ ‘Yep. But let’s hope not – for all our sakes.’ ‘But what else can have happened to him?’ ‘We dunno. P’rhaps he did go outside. P’rhaps there’s some problem on Qun we don’ know ’bout.’ ‘Perhaps the Nerians took him.’ ‘No. You can definitely rule that out. They never harm no one. Whatever happened to Robo has nothin’ to do with them.’ * Awg dozed for a while. He awoke feeling a lot less like a punchbag and a lot more like a normal human being. Admittedly, a normal human being in highly abnormal circumstances. Zert came in. ‘You OK now?’ ‘Yep. Much better. By the way, what was easier?’ ‘Eh?’

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‘When I first woke up I’m sure I heard you say something was easier than you expected.’ ‘Oh, that. Gettin’ you here. Come nex’ door an’ look.’ Awg had never been in the control room before. It was impressive. Zert obviously knew his way around very well. Screened off at the back was a bank of very scary-looking equipment – a bit like a high-voltage electricity sub-station, only a lot weirder. The sort of kit you don’t go too near unless you want to end up like something at the bottom of a chip pan that time forgot. In the centre of the room was a circular console above which were several black glass screencubes. These were much larger than any Awg had seen before. On the far wall was an illuminated display which Awg thought looked a bit like a Jackson Pollock painting he’d seen at school – all squiggles and blobs and curly lines. Zert pointed to different bits of it. ‘That lot controls the field gen’rators – where most o’ the actual power goes in. An’ over here’s the search an’ tunin’ section – that locates the startin’ site, identifies the transfer object an’ locks on to its exact destination. ‘So look here …’ He worked for a few moments at the console. ‘… this was you at the transfer point on Qun.’ Inside the first of the screencubes was a three-dimensional network of grid-lines with a small red dot near its centre. ‘That’s ’bout the highest resolution we ever gets. Now I’ll pull back the data for your transfer from Earth.’ The second black cube began to glow. Inside the grid this time was something that looked like a large, badly-made dumpling. ‘You c’n see the problem – an’ I’ve had to reduce the scale twice even to get it on the screen. That’s all we’d got to find you an’ Robo when you started. Tricky. ‘O’course, the comparison’s not really valid ’cos Qun’s in Zero’s universe – in fact, only just ’cross the galaxy a little way – so it’s gonna be a lot better anyhow. Incident’lly, that’s why I could activate the voice system in your watch, ’cos you’d got so

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111

much closer. But the equipment on Qun’s a bit primitive an’ I wouldn’t have ’spected the location image to be so sharp.’ Awg dodged back inside the transfer chamber and grabbed Robo’s rucksack. With Zert looking on, he opened it. Wrapped inside a pair of Levi’s was the resonator; and rolled up inside a clean tee shirt, wrapped in another (definitely not so clean) tee shirt, was – Benedict’s hourglass. Zert clicked furiously, mad with himself that he’d forgotten. ‘O’course – you still got these with you! That’s why the image was so intense an’ focused.’ ‘Did they help with the journey from Earth? I mean, that splodge you showed me looked pretty bad.’ ‘It was pretty bad – but we got it. If you’d not had these – an’ done that thing with the big sheet o’ metal … ’ ‘The lead roof?’ ‘Whatever it was. It was dense an’ large, an’ that was enough. If you’d not done them things, there’s no way we’d ever have found you. You’d still be back there, on Earth.’

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Thirty Two

When Awg was fully recovered, Zert walked over with him to his old quarters in the student village. Awg was glad to be back in the familiar room. It felt almost like coming home. He was less glad to find a note waiting for him from Gary Robertson, Robo’s father. It wasn’t exactly unfriendly, but there was certainly a suggestion of ‘what have you done with my son?’ about it. Awg wasn’t really surprised. He knew that Gary and Robo were very close and that Robo’s mother had died when he was born. Gary had been waiting a long time to see his son again, and now at the last minute it had all gone wrong. Up until this moment, Awg hadn’t been too massively worried about Robo. He’d been so much his usual self when they met up on Qun. Awg somehow couldn’t believe that anything monstrously bad had happened to him. He seemed bomb-proof, indestructible. But now, faced with his father’s note, Awg began to get a very bad feeling about it all. They met in one of the common rooms in the student block. It turned out that Gary was staying in a different part of the same building. Awg knew Robo’s father only from a photograph and from what Robo had told him. They had never met. Until now. Awg’s first impression was how very tall he was. Robo himself was tough and solid, but not particularly tall for his age. Gary was well over six feet. His face was like his son’s, but longer and thinner, which made him seem even taller. His hair was darker than Robo’s but his eyes had exactly the same steel-grey intensity.

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113

Awg extended his hand and found it locked in a grip of unyielding severity. ‘Just tell me what happened.’ Awg was taken aback. He had expected at least a ‘hello’ or ‘good to meet you at last’. He wasn’t sure where to start, or how much Dr Robertson knew already. Robo’s father released his hand, but showed no sign of relaxing or sitting down. The conversation continued with them both on their feet, Awg feeling decidedly shaky. ‘W-w-well, the transfer from Llangarreg worked OK. We didn’t both arrive at exactly the same point – but we met up, and got to the hostel.’ He thought it best not to mention the bone piles, or the drumming. ‘We had a meal and then we went to bed. I got woken up by an alarm going off and when I looked across to Rob… er … Jonathan, he wasn’t there. ‘Had his bed been slept in?’ ‘I saw him get into it, but then I fell asleep.’ ‘But was the bed still warm? Didn’t you check? That would have told you how recently he’d got up.’ ‘N-no. There was this alarm going off and I didn’t know what was happening. I ran down the stairs and looked in the entrance lobby and the food hall but he wasn’t there. And then the alarm stopped and I got a message from Zert. He told me to use the wall plan to do a scan of the building, but all it showed was me. So then Zert said I should get straight down to the transfer chamber in the basement. And … here I am.’ ‘So, didn’t you search the rest of the building – check all the other rooms?’ ‘No. Zert wanted me to get out as quickly as possible, and anyway the building scan showed I was the only one inside.’ ‘Awg, what you have failed to grasp is that those scan systems work on a wide spectrum of infrared frequencies. They are designed to detect humanoids, zwnerbas, spyridi and a variety of other beings – but they only show people who are alive.’

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Awg was appalled. If Robo had met with some terrible accident, he might still be there. Dead. ‘I didn’t realise. I would’ve checked through the whole complex. Of course I would.’ His mind raced back to that awful day in Strenton when in the same way he’d had to search the flat at Marsh Lane, not knowing what he might find. ‘It’s too late now – or d’you think Zert could send me back?’ Gary eyed him coldly. ‘There’s no point,’ he said. ‘The Nerians have already done it. There’s no one there – at least, not now.’

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115

Thirty Three

‘And that was it. Dismissed.’ Awg was still shaken by the confrontational tone of his meeting with Gary Robertson and it was a relief to talk it over with Zert. ‘I s’pose it’s nat’ral. Robo’s missing an’ he jus’ wants someone to blame. Tough on you, though. Didn’ he tell you nothin’ ’bout the situation here – ’bout his own work?’ ‘No. Only what I just said. Then he walked out.’ Awg and Zert were having a meal together in the student canteen. Not much food had been put out, and apart from four zwnerbas at a table in the corner there was no one else there. Awg concentrated on his meal. Watching Zert eat wasn’t one of his favourite occupations. All that could be said politely was that Zert’s use of his eight limbs was remarkable versatile. ‘This place is so quiet,’ said Awg. ‘Where’s everybody gone?’ ‘Things here ain’t good. There’s bad stuff goin’ on an’ now food’s beginnin’ to get scarce, so the students’ve mostly gone home.’ ‘Why’s the food getting short?’ ‘Two reasons. The gen’ral population blames it all on the corruption, an’ stuff gettin’ diverted on to the black market. An’ at the moment, they’re mostly right. But there’s more. If you plots the surface crop yields against time, there’s a decline. It’s small now, but its gettin’ more an’ more significant. An’ it’s no accident.’ ‘Boscabuon – the galaxy that’s moving in?’ ‘Yep.’ ‘But how?’

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‘We dunno the mechanism yet, but there’s a drop in visible light from our sun, an’ the flux o’ dangerous radiation’s increasin’. Zero’s magnetic field’s dyin’ away, an’ that’s what shields the planet from cosmic rays. So it’s bad news for anythin’ livin’ or growin’ on the surface.’ ‘What’s Asa doing?’ ‘Asa took a unit to Morvkd an’ raided Sharibvdl’s HQ. He warn’t there but all the others was rounded up, includin’ that poisonous female – the one he calls his ‘finance manager’. She’s like a snake. But she won’t tell ’em where Sharibvdl is. P’rhaps she really don’t know. It’s the Zeroians like her that’s the trouble. Most o’ the zwnerbas were same as the one you found – only too glad to get ’way.’ ‘But this is crazy. There’s a huge disaster approaching and all that’s happening is you’re all frigging about over a petty crook.’ ‘Wrong on two counts. First, that ain’t all that’s happenin’. There’s a massive effort goin’ into the Boscabuon problem. Second, Sharibvdl ain’t a petty crook. He mightta started that way, but not any more. No how. You saw that on Morvkd – an’ so did I, if you remembers.’ The recollection of Zert’s escape from death hit Awg like a blow. ‘Of course I remember. I’ll never forget that. Ever.’ ‘So we can’t ignore Sharibvdl. If some guy’s gotta knife t’your throat, you can’t forget ’bout it even if someone else is comin’ to burn your house down. If you don’t counter the smaller threat, you won’t be ’round to face the larger one. ‘An’ besides, the two things is connected. Where’s Sharibvdl gettin’ it all from? Not from anyone on Zero, that’s for sure. An’ he’s not bright enough himself. It’s gotta be an outside source, an’ somethin’ pretty nasty.’ ‘Ugh! What happened about that black pool in the cave and the big jellyfish thing?’ ‘The jelly blob didn’ appear again but Asa tried to suss out the pool. Sent cameras down – too dangerous for divers. Cameras never reappeared but they pulled up some blobs o’ molten metal. So a watch was kept on it day an’ night. One mornin’

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both guards was found dead – poisoned somehow.’ ‘Yeah – I remember that flying blue thing that came after us.’ ‘Anyhow, Asa got the troops to lob a sort o’ mini depth charge into it. It must’ve found somethin’ ’cos it sank for ages an’ then there was a huge burst o’ light from deep down an’ a load o’ white jelly an’ black lumps come floatin’ up. ‘Soon after that th’abductions started. Prom’nent people disappeared an’ they got threats an’ demands: release all o’ the pris’ners from Morvkd an’ a total amnesty for Sharibvdl an’ the rest o’ his crew, or else. At the moment it’s a stalemate. Nothin’s bein’ done.’ ‘What about the Patrician?’ ‘Um … I think we gotta problem there.’ Awg pricked up his ears at once. It was the first time that Zert had ever said anything even mildly critical about the Patrician. ‘He shouldda talked to Asa an’ consulted the Council. But he didn’. The feelin’ is he don’t rate either o’ the threats very high. Some folks wonder if he believes in ’em at all.’ ‘But he must do! He should be up there at the front. In the lead.’ ‘The only leader we got is Asa. All the Patrician did was to put it about that if there was problems with food an’ stuff, they was only temp’rary an’ we all gotta pull together to solve ’em – ’cos otherwise a bigger disaster could come along an’ overwhelm us. But he didn’ say what that might be or how urgent it was. He’s afraid of causin’ a panic.’ ‘Yeah – that was Benedict’s problem on Earth, too.’ ‘But here it’s made things worse. ’Cos now everyone thinks this ‘bigger disaster’ is a crock o’ shit from the politicians to divert attention from the scams an’ shortages. So they rubbish the whole idea of a catastrophe, ’cos there’s no sign o’ one.’ ‘No sky falling,’ said Awg. Zert rocked himself to and fro and moaned. ‘Not yet, anyway. S’all still too gradual, an’ easy to put the blame on other stuff. It’s the same all round the galaxy – plenty o’ local problems to divert attention from the global one.’

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Thirty Four

‘Are you seriously suggesting we should give in to them?’ ‘Yes. It is the only way.’ At the centre of a bare, octagonal room in Gexadkydubm Patricians’ Palace, two very different Zeroians faced one another. Huddled in a dark red robe, a man, gaunt and shrunken with age, stared out from a high-backed chair of carved black wood. At his feet, cross-legged upon a crimson carpet, sat a young woman, her face pale but fiercely defiant. For a few seconds, her eyes strayed towards the pattern of hieroglyphs inscribed high up around the white stone walls. Their meaning had been known to her from earliest childhood: I swear to dedicate my life to the service of Zero and its Galaxy to strive for truth and fairness in all my actions to uphold the Rule of Law without fear or favour and to seek no personal reward It was the age-old oath of Office of the Patricians of Zero, cut indelibly into the fabric of the room as a constant reminder, to each successive occupant, of their responsibility. Asa drew strength from the familiar words and launched once more into the attack. ‘But that would be madness. Giving in to blackmail never works. It only encourages them to do worse things next time. Believe me, Father.’ ‘Asa – if we do not do as Mayor Sharibvdl says, then four

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of our councillors will die: trusted friends and advisors I have known all my life. I will not let that happen. What could have driven Sharibvdl to this extremity I cannot imagine. I do not believe all the things you say about him. He has been of great assistance to me in the past. Through him, I have been able to see many things in a new light.’ ‘He is a criminal and he belongs in jail.’ ‘If he is indeed a criminal, then, like any citizen, he is answerable to the law. Our justice system will deal with him.’ ‘But I’ve told you, he has found a way around the extradition system. It doesn’t work any more – at least for him and those in his circle. They do as they please and go unpunished.’ ‘The law cannot be circumvented! If Mayor Sharibvdl has found some trick – and I still cannot believe that this is possible – it can only be to delay the inevitable, not cancel it out. If he has truly transgressed, sooner or later he will be brought to book. In the meantime, I shall give him the benefit of the doubt. His business associates whom you arrested – without my authority – on Morvkd shall be released. And I will deal with the Mayor personally. You shall summon him here to my presence to explain himself, which I am sure he will be able to do.’ ‘You don’t understand. You’re making a huge mistake! If you do as he demands and release these people, then it’s doubly wrong. It will encourage Sharibvdl himself to make further, more outrageous demands. And, as well as that, his accomplices will be free to continue their lives of crime and destruction.’ ‘I do not hear your words! My decision has been made and I will have your compliance. You owe me twofold obedience – through your loyalty as a citizen to the Patrician, and also in your duty to your father. Now, do not shame me further. Go and do as I command.’ He clapped his hands. A zwnerba entered, and bowed. ‘Convey Asa to her room. She is not to leave the palace until she has sent her message.’ At the door, Asa turned back to the Patrician. ‘I do respect you, Father – but I am no longer a child.’

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Then she followed the zwnerba as he led the way slowly, and rather stiffly, through the empty corridors of the palace. ‘It’s all right, Vecju,’ she said, as he glanced back towards her, as if checking her intentions. ‘I’m not going to run away. I’ve just got a lot of thinking to do. These are strange times.’ She stopped by a window and gazed into the garden – once so well kept but now increasingly overgrown. ‘Do you trust me, Vecju?’ The old zwnerba puckered his face in a manner corresponding to a smile. Very gently, he said ‘How long have we known each other, Lady Asa?’ ‘Since I was born.’ ‘Yes, a long time. Long enough for me to know that you will always do what you think is right.’ Asa stayed in her room for many hours. Finally, she sent three messages: one to her next in command, one to Xurog and one to Mayor Sharibvdl.

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Thirty Five

The bodies of the four Councillors were found on a rubbish dump in New Gexadkydubm next morning. Word soon got about, and before long the whole Sharibvdl blackmail story was public property. Opinions quickly polarised. Most of the zwnerba population said that the Patrician was right to resist the blackmailers and uphold the law. But many of the native Zeroians feared for their skins if government officials (the majority of whom were humanoids like themselves) went unprotected by the Establishment. But in the afternoon the Patrician issued a statement saying that he himself had ordered the ransom demands to be met, and that a decree had been issued for the arrest of his daughter. Then there was chaos – the native Zeroians baying for Asa’s blood, and the zwnerbas divided between loyalty to the Patrician and support for the stand taken by Asa. The Spyridi said nothing, hoping to keep out of it. And invisible to all but the best equipped observers on Zero, a strange galaxy of incandescent stars and lifeless planets sped onwards across the vastness of Space towards them. * Surrounded at his desk in Auyvhasdh by walls of interactive holographic displays, Xurog was checking through the observatory reports. The progress of the Boscabuon galaxy was being meticulously tracked. And recently, an extraordinary change had taken place.

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Although the galaxy was hurtling towards Zero, it was still vastly distant. But not so vastly distant as it had been. The separation between the two galaxies had halved. It was just not possible for anything to cover that sort of distance so quickly – and yet it had happened. Boscabuon had first attracted attention by virtue of its irregular progress through Space, but up to now this had been confined to unexpected changes of direction. This intergalactic leap was in a different league. Estimating timescales had always been difficult. Now, if no realistic transit speed could be predicted, the task became virtually impossible. Xurog knew that even he was out of his depth. It was as if the weird uncertainties in behaviour of sub-atomic particles were now applying to matter at the other end of the size scale. The galaxy did not even stay the same shape. Images taken several weeks apart showed that it’s components moved relative to one another, so that sometimes it appeared as an elongated disc, at other times densely spherical. And there was something else – an indication that other pillars of scientific certainty were crumbling; distorting; melting away. Xurog called it the correlation effect. Put simply, it was this. If an object (or a galaxy) is a very long way away – say, x light years away – then no communication can reach it faster than the speed of light. And, by definition, that is going to take x years. Yet it was obvious that whatever and wherever Ulgor might be, it knew what was happening on Zero here and now. So – either Ulgor was not in the Boscabuon galaxy at all, or somehow it was able to correlate information between the different locations where its influence had been felt. Boscabuon itself. The black coffin at Chykideyh. The dark pool on Morvkd, with its sinister and glutinous occupant. And in how many other places, as yet unknown? Once again, the sort of communication that could apply to the building blocks of atoms was being seen across immensely greater distances. All this had somehow to be taken into account for any defence strategy to be effective. Even the idea of a defence

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strategy against something the size of a galaxy seemed at present farcical. Boscabuon was a small galaxy, containing less than a million stars. The exact number of associated planets was uncertain. Perhaps another million in all. Two million objects, whose speed and position were being estimated millisecond by millisecond in the largest computation ever attempted by the Spyridi. Xurog’s mind was occupied with the problem. And Xurog’s mind was remarkably extensive. And then there was the comparatively minor issue raised by the message from Asa the previous evening. Xurog had devoted several seconds of concentrated thought to the problem, calculating probabilities, surveying possible outcomes, assessing courses of action. His conclusion was clear, although it meant breaking a solemn oath of allegiance to the Patrician. But that oath had been sworn to a great leader of keen intellect and incontrovertible judgement. Now, whether through illness, fatigue from years of effort, or just old age at long last taking its toll, that person had ceased to exist. Therefore, Xurog’s allegiance must be to the Title of Office and not to the individual, and that Title had passed on. Not yet officially, that was true. But in the current desperate circumstances such formalities would have to wait. Zero needed a Leader and it had got one. He felt it was hard on one so young. For years now she had fought tirelessly in her own way against the decay of the State – and now she had to endure the harrowing decline of her own father as well. But what next? There was now a waiting game. Asa’s forces were at the ready. It was just a question of where the first blow would fall. Or perhaps Sharibvdl would prove powerless after all and crumble in the face of defiance. Not even Xurog could guess the extent of his resources, or the depth of his depravity.

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Map

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Thirty Six

At first, nothing was suspected. A few people became ill. There are always a few people who become ill, for perfectly natural reasons. Then the illness spread. And those who had sickened first, died. * It was quite early in the morning and Awg was still asleep. Zert burst into his room and undarkened the window. ‘It’s Sharibvdl. He’s poisoned the water in Gexadkydubm. Loadsa people’ve died!’ Awg struggled to wake up, screwing up his eyes in the light. ‘They’ve tested the main supply an’ it’s poisoned. No one c’n drink it. An’ it’s not bacteria or nothin’ like that, so you can’t just boil it. An’ he’s got at the emergency supply tanks as well – but not all of ’em. The bastard’s sent a message that if all his demands is met, he’ll say which ones is poisoned an’ which is safe.’ ‘What’s Asa doing?’ asked Awg, almost fully awake. ‘Or is she in prison?’ ‘Don’t think nobody’s taking that arrest stuff seriously now. All they wants is someone to take charge an’ stop folks gettin’ killed. We’re sendin’ some guys with test equipment to help her.’ ‘We should go too.’ ‘What!’ ‘We should go to help them.’

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‘There’s no reason. We’d only be gettin’ in their way.’ ‘Who else has any direct experience of Sharibvdl?’ ‘Ummmm … nobody’s even seen him since he escaped from Morvkd.’ In a few minutes Awg had dressed and thrown a few things into his rucksack. Together, they hurried across the college green and towards the transporter terminal at the edge of the spyridi city. They had expected to find the place buzzing with activity, but in fact there were few people about. A litter of empty packing cases around the deserted flight bays suggested that most of the action was over and the planes already gone. There was still one helicar being loaded up in a bay near the front. A zwnerba climbed out, and Awg gave a shout of recognition. ‘Jebku!’ ‘Hello, Mr Awg. I’d not heard that you had returned to us. And hello, Mr Zert.’ ‘We want to go to Gexadkydubm. We’d had dealings with Sharibvdl before, so we thought we might be able to help there.’ ‘They should have left him to rot on the green moon. You were fortunate to survive that place. But you will not reach the Capital now. Everything has already gone.’ ‘But you’re still here.’ ‘We keep only a small fleet in Auyvhasdh and they were all needed. We even had to refit two of the old Mk-III’s that had been mothballed and put into storage. I’m taking this one out in a few minutes, and it is already fully laden with supplies.’ ‘You can’t take us?’ ‘I am already above the maximum permitted weight.’ Awg looked across the circular space to where a very battered old helicraft was drawn up outside the hangar at the far edge. ‘What about that one?’ he asked. ‘That is our very last reserve. They loaded it up but there’s no one to take it out, so it will have to stay. That is why I have so much extra cargo aboard.’ ‘Put some of it back – and I’ll fly it.’

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‘Oh-No! We’ve got enough trouble as it is.’ ‘I think I could.’ Jebku stared at Awg, assessing the possibility. ‘How much do you remember?’ ‘All of it. I never forget stuff like that. And you were a good teacher.’ ‘It would be breaking the rules.’ ‘Who’d know?’ ‘That’s not the point. Rules are made for a reason. It is not just yourself – you could be putting others in danger.’ ‘Only Zert, if he’ll risk it. People are dying in Gexadkydubm, and they’ll keep on dying until Sharibvdl’s defeated.’ The zwnerba turned to Zert, who’d been examining the old helicar with interest. ‘What do you say? Aren’t you still needed here in Auyvhasdh?’ ‘I’m done for the moment. An’ Xurog c’n reach me on my communicator anytime he wants. An’ I’m OK to go with Awg in this.’ ‘Very well. Come on up. Mr Awg can show me what he knows.’ They all three climbed in and Jebku sat Awg at the controls. ‘Now – tell me everything you have to do. From the start.’ ‘Check fuel level. Power controls at rest positions.’ ‘Yes – and then?’ ‘Hydrogen on at full pressure. Ignition. Warm-up.’ ‘Preparation for takeoff?’ Awg went through the procedure and use of the controls. Eventually, Jebku was satisfied. ‘I’ll arrange transfer to the surface. Once we are out, follow me. You will be flying south-sou’west at five hundred feet. Use the auto-pilot to locate Gexadkydubm but leave it on manual. That way I can be sure you are awake.’ ‘Can I ask you things if I need to?’ ‘We will be in voice contact, but you should avoid using it as much as possible. It is a simple system. It is not secure.’

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‘Has Sharibvdl got any – er – aircraft?’ asked Awg. What he actually meant was ‘can he attack us?’. ‘Not as far as we know. That is one clear advantage we have. Now, get yourselves ready. We leave in a few minutes.’ Awg and Zert helped Jebku shift some of the supplies back on to the old helicraft. Then they strapped themselves in and waited. ‘Thanks for saying you trusted me,’ said Awg. ‘I really do think I can do it.’ ‘Yeah. I know you can.’ “You do?’ ‘You obv’sly haven’t noticed … ’ ‘What the hell are you on about?’ ‘You really don’ get it, do you? I picked up on it right away. This isn’t just any old helicar. It’s our helicar – the one we stowed away on that very first time. You’ve flown it before!’

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Thirty Seven

‘First thing I noticed was the undercarriage’d bin repaired, like it would’ve had to be. I didn’ think too much o’ that – but then I began to see other stuff. Look – there’s the massive scratch we made ’cross the cargo door when we heaved out that box that turned out it was a bomb. An’ there’s … ’ Further discussion was cut short by the appearance of Jebku’s helicraft taxiing up alongside. Then the yellow warning light on the post beside their vehicle came on. Zert tightened his straps. ‘We better get ready.’ He didn’t mean ‘get ready for the flight’. At least, not yet. The first part of the journey would be their transfer out of the virtual city of Auyvhasdh on to the actual surface of Zero itself. The soft yellow light from the transparent globe changed to an intense blue, warning that the local plasma field had been energised. Awg knew what would happen next because he had experienced it several times before. But that didn’t make it any less scary. With a slight vibration throughout their craft, the outside world began to darken and fade. The space above them seemed to expand outwards and dissolve, at first into blackness and then into a kaleidoscope of brilliant reflections. In the growing light, sloping walls towered above them, apparently blocking their way. But they passed through, breaking out into daylight on to a bright silver platform. Around them was an open space, and in the centre was the shining, ebony-black pyramid from which they had emerged.

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Jebku’s helicraft, its engine running, was already waiting at the white metal rail which ran in a wide circle around the edge of the platform. The zwnerba turned towards them, raised his arm in greeting and took off. Awg closed his eyes for a moment and tried to steady his nerves. This was his first solo flight. He was afraid Zert would notice how much he was trembling. It was actually mostly with excitement, plus a small but significant percentage of terror. But Zert wouldn’t know that, and would make the very reasonable assumption that it was mainly terror. Poor Zert – stuck in a pensioned-off helicraft with a vibrating trainee pilot! Awg took a deep breath. Ready. Hydrogen on full. Ignition. The roar of the engine was startling in its suddenness and intensity. Rotor pitch: maximum lift. Engine speed: Increase to 10% …… 20% …… 50%. The noise was deafening. Everything shook, especially Zert. But slowly they rose into the air. Awg swung the plane around until Jebku was directly ahead. Awg had already set the auto-navigator for Gexadkydubm, and a check on his direction against the bearing showed he was right on course. He climbed to five hundred feet as instructed, levelled out and notched up his forward speed. He needed to keep a safe airspace between the two craft without getting out of sight range. It was quieter now, the only sounds being the low throb of the engine and the rhythmic scud-scud-scud of the rotor. Zert, who had grabbed on to every available fixed object, relaxed his grip. As he’d circled round to follow Jebku on his southerly course, Awg had caught a brief glimpse of the wastelands stretching away to the north – treeless, waterless and barren. There lay the yellow and red mesas and rock pillars of the Stone Forest where his very first adventure in the air had begun.

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But now their route lay across the flatter expanses of arid scrub that stretched for many miles southwards – a landscape of rocky outcrops and stunted bushes. They turned away from the flat-topped hill. The spike of its black pyramid receded into the distance and they left the desert and high ground behind them. Gradually, occasional patches of rough grass began to appear, until the parched scrubland gave way to the savannah-like plain which Awg knew lay in an untidy arc around the north and east of the capital city. Far out of their sight, it also ran southwards to form a boundary between the withered valley of the oncegreat river and the fringes of the eastern desert. * ‘Wassat?’ They’d been in the air for about four hours when Zert suddenly sat bolt upright and pointed at something on the ground ahead. Awg followed his gaze but could see nothing. ‘Look. Y’see that lighter patch where the grass seems to’ve died off?’ ‘Yep.’ ‘Well – just beyond that.’ ‘I can’t see a thing.’ As Jebku’s helicraft passed over whatever Zert had seen, there was a flash of light from the ground and a spurt of black smoke from the helicar. Immediately, it began to spin down towards the ground. ‘Somethin’s firin’ at him. Got th’auxiliary rotor.’ Jebku’s plane banked and dipped wildly, clearly out of control. There were three more flashes, but no further impacts. The helicraft hit the ground at a shallow angle and skidded across the grass for a long way, throwing up dust and clumps of grass, before coming to a halt on it side. Smoke curled upwards from underneath. There was no sign of movement from within

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the transparent dome of the cabin. ‘He may be OK,’ whispered Zert. ‘S’long as there’s no fire. Hydrogen tanks’ll still be more’n half full.’ ‘Yeah. Let’s hope. They only got him once. Difficult to hit a zig-zagging target.’ They swept over the spot where Jebku had gone down. Still Awg could see nothing except the smoking plane. ‘Turn back!’ shouted Zert. ‘We gotta circle back.’ Awg banked sharply and swung the helicraft round. ‘Now – dive straight towards it!’ ‘Towards what, for chrissake?’ ‘You can’t see where they’re firin’ from – that round thing?’ ‘I saw something light up when Jebku was hit, but there’s nothing there now.’ ‘OK. I’ll guide you. It’s dead ahead at the moment, so dive.’ ‘You want me to dive, when I can’t see what I’m diving at?’ ‘Yep.’ ‘Why?’ ‘I want them to fire at us.’ ‘What !!!!! ’You mental?’ ‘Trust me. Jus’ head down. When they fire, pull up an’ veer off quick.’ ‘Look – I’m a pretend pilot, not the bloody Red Baron!’ Awg took the plane down, heading at increasing speed for something on the ground he couldn’t see. ‘Left a bit.’ ‘Sod off! Keeping straight’s hard enough.’ ‘OK then. I think it’ll do.’ Awg was getting horribly near the ground. He was just getting ready to pull out when there was a flash and the plane jolted as if struck with a lightning bolt. ‘Pull up! Bank left!’ The ground was hammering towards them at a colossal rate. Awg’s brain went into survival mode. He crashed the lift control up against the stop, gunned the engine flat out and swung as much to the side as he dared.

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The helicraft shuddered, and for a split second Awg was terrified it was going to stall. Then the engine roared and they were climbing, climbing, climbing away from it all. From somewhere behind them the whole landscape was bathed in a white glare. The force of the explosion shook and buffeted their craft but by now they were well clear of the flying debris. Awg banked and turned once again. In front of them was a huge, smoking crater, while several hundred yards away was Jebku’s plane, still smoking – but still in one piece. * They landed on the rough grass, as close to Jebku’s plane as they could risk. They knew it might go up at any time. ‘You stay here. I’ll go first.’ Zert sounded very insistent. ‘But … ’ ‘How much d’you know ’bout helicraft?’ ‘OK.’ Zert scrambled over to the crashed plane and surveyed it cautiously from every side. He beckoned Awg to come over. ‘Think it’s stable for the moment. Nothin’ burnin’ that’ll get worse too quick. We better take a look in.’ They clambered up to the cabin dome and peered inside. Awg gulped. ‘Holy Jeez. What a mess!’ Zert was very quiet. ‘Couldda bin us as well.’ Whatever had damaged the secondary rotor had struck upwards through the plane. The inside of the cabin was totally wrecked. There was no point in checking that Jebku was dead. Even if you could find all the bits. Awg sagged down on to his knees and was sick. Zert took him by the arm. ‘Come on. We gotta get away. Jus’ in case. Sorry.’ Even as he spoke, a small flame sprang up within the tangle of metal beneath their feet. They half-climbed, half-fell to the ground and stumbled back across the ploughed-up grass. By the time they got to their

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own helicraft, Jebku’s plane was seriously on fire. They both felt instinctively that they ought to stay – to stand quietly and see the thing through to the end, for their friend’s sake. But Zert’s common sense overcame his feelings of respect. ‘Awg – there’s more’n half his fuel still on board … ’ They scrambled in and took off. Awg guided the plane round in great circles, tears running down his face. Waiting. The inevitable blast came almost as a relief. When, eventually, the fireball had died down, all that was left was a blackened pile of wreckage. Small flames danced amid the remains of Jebku’s funeral pyre, and the smoke curled upwards into the clear blue sky.

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Thirty Eight

‘I did learn a bit from Asa, but he was the one who really taught me stuff. He was good at explaining – and he was always patient when I made stupid mistakes. Right from when we first met last year he was kind to us. He didn’t have to be. It wasn’t in The Rules. It’s terrible.’ ‘And we gotta find a way o’ tellin’ Berjga. She’s gonna be broke up that her brother’s got killed.’ Awg was filled with rage. ‘What’s this all about? Why the hell are they doing these things? It doesn’t make sense if we’re all doomed anyway.’ He tightened his grip on the control column until his knuckles whitened. ‘OK. I’ve got to calm down and fly this thing. How far are we off Gexadkydubm?’ ‘Less than an hour, now.’ ‘Let’s talk. I’ll feel better if we just talk. Tell me what did it. What did you see when you shouted out? AND you’d better keep a bloody good look out in case there’s another one!’ ‘There was this circular thing on the ground. I didn’ know what it was but I had a bad feelin’ ’bout it. Which got a lot worse when I realised you couldn’ see it at all.’ ‘How come you could see it and I couldn’t?’ ‘Ummm … as p’raps you mighta noticed, spyridi do pretty well in the eye department. We got several different sorts o’ light receptors. An’ one thing we c’n do an’ you can’t is see a wider spectrum o’ frequencies – a little way into what you calls the

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ultraviolet, an’ quite a long way down into the infrared – which was the colour I saw for this circle thing.’ ‘So, what colour is that?’ ‘You see the colour on the fuel control?’ Zert pointed. ‘Yeah. I call that red.’ ‘Well, I sees the circle colour as very dark red. But you didn’ see it at all. So – the structure was camouflaged in a mighty clever way. It emitted light o’ the same intensity an’ wavelengths as its surroundin’s, so you couldn’t see it. But it was givin’ out more infrared, and that’s what I could see.’ ‘D’you mean the thing was made to stay the same colour and shade as the stuff around it, so it was hidden – but it was hotter, and you could see that?’ ‘You got it! Now, if folks goes to that much trouble to hide anythin’, it must be somethin’ valuable or seriously bad. But knowin’ this was all too late, ’cos in the next instant Jebku got hit. So – if they wanna get Jebku, what’s the next thing they’re gonna go for?’ ‘Us,’ said Awg, getting the picture all too rapidly. ‘Yep. It worked like it was some sort o’ beam weapon, an’ we got no protection from below. So if they hit us, we’d go same way as Jebku. BUT we got protection from above.’ ‘How?’ ‘This is our ol’ plane, remember. An’ it’s got my special coatin’ over the dome from when we rescued Asa. It’s still there. I checked. ‘We’re too slow to do a runner, so our only chance is to go in real low an’ get ’em to fire off at us, an’ hope my ol’ reflector’ll give ’em their own back. An’ it did!’ ‘So the reason they got blown up was because your mirror stuff threw their beam back at them?’ ‘Yep. Have to admit I was dead chuffed ’bout that. An’ it was only a project I done for my technician trainin’. It’s worked twice now. Brilliant at chuckin’ off the high-end radiation.’ Awg mentally re-lived his potentially suicidal dive towards an invisible target.

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‘And if it hadn’t worked?’ he asked. ‘You’ seen what happens.’ * ‘Where are we landing?’ asked Awg. Awg knew of only two places. There was the small airfield just outside the city where he had taken off with Asa on his first trip – and there was the landing pad behind the Patrician’s palace. Neither seemed very suitable, especially the second. Zert got busy on his communicator. This gave them a secure link to their destination. ‘They wants us to come in at the freight terminal in the New City ’cos we still got some supplies on board …’ He paused, and looked across at Awg. ‘… an’ I’ve told ’em ’bout Jebku.’ Awg’s auto-navigator lit up. ‘They’ve targeted a locator beam on us,’ said Zert. ‘Head for the blue dot on the screen. The airspace is clear, so you c’n just fly in.’ Ahead, they could now make out the northern outskirts of Gexadkydubm. The rough grassland was being left behind, and for a while they passed over lines of the strange, square tankfields where water was piped in for the crops. Approaching the dried-up river bed that divided Old and New Gexadkydubm they turned east, flying over the grid of treeless streets, housing blocks and industrial sites that made up the New City. Soon they were near enough to see exactly where they were headed. At the southern edge of the New City was a large open space. Near a conical control tower, rows of helicraft were drawn up by a group of flat-roofed buildings. Awg dropped his speed right down, made a neat landing and taxied over to the end of a row. He brought the plane to a halt, a prickle of fear running through him as he remembered the first time he had done this and didn’t know where the

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brakes were. In his head he heard Jebku’s voice: power down, fuel off, brakes secure, doors unlocked, and felt a massive lump in his throat. Two uniformed zwnerbas came out to meet them. There was an awkward moment of formality when neither side knew what to do. Then the zwnerbas stepped forward and embraced the travellers warmly. It was clear that they were deeply moved. ‘You landed well. Was it Jebku who taught you?’ Awg nodded. ‘You were his friends?’ he asked. ‘We trained with him. We have worked together for many years.’ The two zwnerbas accompanied them out of the building. Behind them, others began to unload the plane. They left the freight terminal and walked a few blocks up into the city. In a side street of faceless grey buildings, they entered what appeared to be an office block. However, Awg and Zert were then taken through a series of security checks before being ushered into one of the familiar cylindrical lifts. Awg hated them, and closed his eyes. He counted the seconds for the doors to open again, expecting a journey of one floor or maybe two. The lift descended for at least a minute. Then they were led out into a brightly lit corridor. Many of the doors they passed had security locks and were closed. Others were open, and inside were native Zeroians, zwnerbas and even a few of the spyridi working away at desks, screens and map displays. At a heavily reinforced door near the end of the corridor, their guides spoke into an intercom system. After a few moments, the door opened. The room they entered was large. Displays on the walls seemed to consist entirely of maps and street plans. Spread out on a large table were still more maps, but these were of parchment and looked very old. A tall young Zeroian rose to greet them. He was K1, Asa’s Chief of Command. Awg had never seen anyone look so tired. Like most Zeroians, he showed no facial expression. But his sunken eyes

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and sallow complexion betrayed days of ceaseless work and countless nights without sleep. Awg swallowed hard. The realisation of their situation hit him in the pit of his stomach. They had not been asked to come to the city. They had no plan or specific goal. Their actions had cost a friend’s life. Everything had gone wrong. Sharibvdl was unleashing havoc. Boscabuon was bringing ruin. Robo had vanished. And now they were putting a further responsibility upon someone who was already worn out with effort. Maybe their journey had been a mistake. Perhaps Zert had been right and they should never have come.

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Thirty Nine

‘You are welcome. Asa has left instructions.’ The words were distinct, but the voice was flat and drained with fatigue. ‘You are to stay together at all times. You will be given a call sign and code.’ He turned to Zert. ‘Your communicator – I assume it has level 5 security?’ ‘No, level 7,’ replied Zert. ‘But – level 5 is the highest.’ The routine monochrome of the voice developed a flash of curiosity. ‘Yep – highest in use at the moment. We’re workin’ on the others an’ they’ll be released soon.’ ‘I don’t understand. I was told you were a Probationer.’* ‘Yeah, that’s right. But I get to do other stuff for Xurog.’ ‘You work with Xurog himself ?’ ‘Yeah. He’s always kinda looked after me.’ ‘I see.’ The Commander sat down, and motioned the others to do the same. ‘And who was flying the second transporter when Jebku Ybexou was brought down?’ ‘Er – it was me,’ said Awg. *

Semi-qualified technician working out his (or her) apprenticeship under supervision. Outside their training projects, Probationers would normally be assigned only simple or routine work.

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‘Var’soyeh!’** Up to this moment, he had rather resented Asa’s instructions about the visitors, and the time being spent – wasted he had thought – on them at a time of crisis. Now he remembered the story about a human boy’s courage in the Great Hall in Auyvhasdh. ‘It was you who argued with the Patrician?’ ‘I’m afraid so, yes.’ Awg fidgeted under the Commander’s stare. He felt distinctly uncomfortable. ‘Were earlier transports attacked?’ he asked, in an attempt to divert attention. ‘We were the last to leave Auyvhasdh.’ ‘No. Your incident was the first – but there has since been another. Subsequent reconnaissance has shown the presence of these hostile units all around the city. We’ve no idea how they are being built – but the process is very rapid. It is almost as if they were growing out of the ground.’ ‘So, they’re encircling the city,’ said Awg. ‘Cutting it off from the air. A blockade … ’ ‘That seems to be the intention, yes. And coupled with the disruption of the plasma transport network, a problem for us. But not the most pressing one.’ ‘The water?’ asked Zert. ‘Yes, the water. We’re about to release the first of the certified supplies. Asa is supervising the work personally. All of the reserve tanks have been tested and the uncontaminated ones certified fit for distribution. That will solve the immediate problem without yielding anything to Sharibvdl.’ ‘But – the main supply?’ asked Awg. The Commander gestured towards the dozens of maps and plans on display. ‘That is a different matter. Locating the source of the poison entering the system is a nightmare. Checking the main aqueduct **

expression of amazement (Zeroian slang, definitely not in polite use. Readers are invited to supply a suitable translation, preferably under their breath.)

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is difficult enough but there are dozens of secondary sources, many of them very small. Deep wells, tiny springs – all tapped years ago when the great river began to fail. When water is so scarce, nothing is neglected. We are having to check them all.’ Whilst they had been talking, messages were constantly coming up on the screens around the room. The Commander’s eyes darted from one to the other, silently taking in the information. But now a light flashed on his desk and he spoke rapidly into his headset. He turned to the visitors. ‘The first of the new water supplies was released a few minutes ago. You are to join Asa at the storage facility. Your escort will be here in a few minutes.’ ‘There’s no need unless there’s immediate danger,’ said Awg. ‘OK, Zert?’ ‘OK by me.’ ‘The streets within the city are quiet at present, and we have no reason to expect aerial attacks. But – I am responsible for your safety … ’ ‘We’ll make our own way. Save your people for essential work.’ ‘Then please unlock your communicator and put it here for a moment.’ Zert placed it on the panel the Commander indicated. ‘Now check.’ Zert picked it up and flicked deftly through the new data. ‘Looks good.’ ‘Remember that level-zero channels are for use in emergency only. People’s lives depend on keeping them clear.’ ‘Thanks,’ said Awg. ‘We’ll be going, then.’

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Forty

‘It’s not exactly beautiful, is it?’ ‘What?’ ‘This part of the city. The New City.’ ‘Dunno. Never thought ’bout it.’ ‘I’ve only seen it from the other side, standing on top of the Observatory hill. It looks ugly from there too, but at least you don’t get the dust and the smell.’ The city of Gexadkydubm was divided into the old and the new by the sweep of the river. Across on the far side, fertile and beautiful suburbs stretched out along the west bank. In their centre, the Old City itself, with its labyrinth of narrow alleys and box-like flat-roofed houses, fitted snugly on the inside of a great bend. On the east bank, the grey-brown grid of the New City lay in an unsightly sprawl of dusty streets. Trudging through these, Awg and Zert emerged into the main road through the city. So far, they had not seen a single other person. They followed the road to the bridge. Its three stone arches linked the two halves of the city. At each end were gatehouses with towers, and the broad central span traversed the whole river – or what had once been a river. Dry now for centuries, its bed was starved of any drop of moisture and its banks were rock and dust. Crossing the bridge was like passing from the desert into a garden. The road was lined with trees resembling desert palms – their tall, thin trunks ending like feather dusters in a plume of blue foliage. There were flowers, shrubs, even grass – well, at least the thick-leaved greenish ground covering that was the

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Zeroian equivalent. ‘It hasn’t killed the plants yet, then. The poison. I remember you told me all this was kept going with pipes under the ground and stuff. So if it’s the same water it’s not got to the plants.’ ‘P’rhaps it’s not toxic to plants,’ answered Zert. ‘Jus’ people.’ ‘What if people ate the plants – crops and stuff?’ ‘Dunno. They’ve prob’ly not had time to test that yet. It’s all happened too quick.’ As they passed more places that Awg recognised from his two previous visits, he suddenly realised that one of them hadn’t exactly been a ‘visit’ at all. ‘You know, the last time I came here I wasn’t here,’ he said. ‘Whaddya mean?’ ‘The time bubbles. When I was inside the black coffin at Chykideyh. You remember all that stuff I told you? The third bubble had got Gexadkydubm in it and I made a virtual journey here. That’s how I tracked Sharibvdl and found out about the shadows and the supershapes.’ ‘Yeah. Asa checked out that clinic an’ how it did implants. But she never found any way of tellin’ the guys that had ’em from the ones that didn’t.’ ‘But the thing that controlled it all – that voice in my head that nearly got me marooned for ever … ’ ‘Sharibvdl called it Ulgor when he was yakking on to the jelly blob on Morvkd … ’ ‘Yeah – anyway, that thing could spot them all straight off, because when I looked out from the time bubbles all the ones with implants – the supershapes – stood out from the normal people – the shadows.’ ‘So, maybe it’s like there’s an army o’ these superthings spread out ’mongst all the rest – waitin’ for somethin’, or somebody …’ ‘No, it’s not an army. In all the people I saw there were only eleven supershapes. I counted them. And I must’ve seen dozens of normal people – hundreds. It’s just a few – waiting … but for what?’

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‘Orders from Ulgor?’ suggested Zert. ‘Or Ulgor himself – or itself … ?’ ‘But anyway – they’re here now, amongst the population, and we can’t tell who they are.’ ‘ ’cept they all seem to be crim’nal types, makin’ the most o’ their immunity from the autoextradition system. That’s the bait that’s bin used to get ’em. Maybe they don’ even know there’s a catch in it – that they gotta do stuff for this Ulgor sometime. Tricky.’ He broke off to re-check their route. ‘We still got a good way to go yet. Seems to be mostly houses in this part.’ Since entering the western part of the city, Awg and Zert had found that the streets were no longer deserted. It wasn’t exactly busy, but they had gradually been seeing more and more people. As usual, these were mostly the more numerous zwnerbas, but there were also humanoid native Zeroians. Now, as they reached an open square with a small garden at its centre, it became apparent that a considerable crowd was gathering. ‘What they waiting for, Zert?’ ‘Dunno.’ But even as he spoke, a wheeled vehicle drew up and two zwnerbas got out. They threw open the back of the truck and began to give out black tubular containers. Awg recognised them at once. ‘It’s a water delivery. It must be the first of the new issue.’ ‘Two packs per person. No more! Two packs per person.’ Considering the terrible situation, it was all remarkably orderly. People stood in line to collect their issue. There was some arguing, but there seemed to be some sort of rationing system and the handout proceeded smoothly. ‘It looks like they got tokens,’ said Zert. ‘So they can collect stuff for people that’s sick or can’t get about too well.’ But suddenly there was a commotion and a lot of shouting. The truck was empty but there were still people waiting. Things were beginning to get out of hand as the back of the truck was

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closed up and it prepared to drive away. It was hard to hear the address system over the din but the message seemed to satisfy the crowd because they quietened down, and at that moment a second truck appeared. The issuing procedure was repeated, and this time there was enough for everyone. Some of those who had been waiting longest began to snap open the water packs and start to drink as they walked away. ‘Poor sods,’ said Awg. ‘I wonder how long they’ve had to wait.’ They were just about to continue their journey when another dispute broke out. Raised voices were heard from the garden in the centre of the square. Things seemed to be getting quite heated, so both friends went across to see what was going on. A group of zwnerbas were arguing furiously. They fell silent as Zert approached. The appearance of Spyridi – even one of the obviously younger members – was a comparatively rare event, and smacked of Officialdom. ‘It wasn’t her fault. She just dropped it. It was an accident. And she’s only a child.’ The speaker had been the one in the centre of the argument. An opened water pack lay on the ground, its contents splashed on the path. ‘What’s the problem?’ whispered Awg. ‘Wastin’ water’s a very serious matter,’ hissed Zert. ‘Even in normal times there’s severe penalties. An’ at the moment … ’ ‘Where’s the girl?’ asked Awg, to the group. ‘She ran off,’ said one. ‘She was ashamed at what she’d done and didn’t want to be punished.’ Another of the zwnerbas spoke up.‘Poor child was frightened. Her hands were shaking and she’d gone a bad colour.’ In Awg’s head an alarm bell rang. ‘I think we should find her immediately,’ he said. ‘Who are her parents? They should come with us.’ Then, seeing the apprehensive looks, he added quickly, ‘She won’t get into trouble. We just want to make sure she’s all right.’

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Two zwnerbas came forward, one of them the first who had spoken. They began to search the garden. It didn’t take long to find her. She had hidden by a wall, behind a small bush. And it was there that she had died.

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Forty One

Something was terribly wrong. Away from the garden, two elderly native Zeroians had collapsed in the street. Screams could be heard from the nearby houses. From one, a zwnerba staggered out and fell into the road. Zert slammed his communicator on to highest priority. He got straight to K1. ‘You gotta fix on my position?’ ‘Of course. North-east corner of Vydarjn Square.’ ‘Send a medical team. People’s droppin’ everywhere. Looks like the water delivery was poisoned.’ ‘Impossible. It was certified pure.’ ‘Well, seems like it wasn’t.’ ‘Stay where you are. Give any help you can. Try to find out what’s happened. We’re on our way.’ It was hard for the two friends. They had no medicines or special training. All around them, people were falling ill and dying. And people were looking to them to tell them what to do. Awg was desperate to help the situation. He climbed up on one of the low walls of the garden to get an all-round view. It was only then that he realised some people were completely unaffected. People who had drunk the water were remaining perfectly well. No symptoms at all. Why? He ran from group to group, asking questions. ‘Don’t drink any more of the water,’ he told them. ‘But don’t throw it away! Keep all the packs you were given!’

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Zert reluctantly went to see the zwnerbas whose daughter had been the first to die. They were distraught, but seemed relieved to have someone different to talk to. A unit of Asa’s troops arrived with a medical team. They immediately began seeking out those worst affected. But for many it was too late. Awg recognised their leader at once. K2 had been with Asa in the Great Hall at Auyvhasdh on the day they had confronted the Patrician. He saluted and came over. ‘Can you give me a report?’ ‘We’d just got to this square when the water trucks arrived,’ said Awg. ‘People collected their ration and began to go back home. Then there was a row because a zwnerba girl spilt one of the water packs. She ran off in fright, but when we found her she was dead. Then lots of other people started dying as well. It was horrendous.’ Zert arrived. ‘Discovered anything?’ asked K2. ‘Yep. The first girl who died had drunk a lot o’ water. Her fam’ly was at the front o’ the queue for the second deliv’ry. She was supposed to be just carryin’ the pack, but when no one was lookin’ she opened it an’ drank it nearly all. S’pose she was jus’ so thirsty. We know there warn’t much left in the pack ’cos the spill was small – nothin’ like as big as if the whole lot had splashed out.’ ‘So she was the first to drink from the second truck. And the first to get sick.’ ‘Yep. An’ then lots more started goin’ down.’ ‘The other thing we’ve discovered,’ said Awg, ‘is that only about half of the people who drank any of the water have got ill or died. One zwnerba – that one over there – told us she drank nearly a whole pack but hadn’t got ill.’ K2 ran over to where the zwnerba was sitting. They talked for a short time, and then K2 returned. ‘Hers was the first delivery. She’s in good shape so I’ve asked her to find more people who collected water from the same delivery and report back on how they’re doing.

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‘Now this is what I want you to do. Help the medics to collect up all the packs, opened or not, and label them. We want to know which delivery, how much has been consumed, and the state of health of the owner.’ * It didn’t take long for the pattern to emerge. All the casualties were from the second delivery. No one who collected water from the first batch was ill. Those who had drunk a small amount of the contaminated issue were paralysed to a greater or lesser extent, or were unconscious. All those who had drunk at least a quarter of a pack were dead. At a table piled high with water packs, Zert sat down with K2. ‘Obviously, you gotta re-check the tank that second batch come from – ’cos the analysis was wrong.’ ‘I would agree with you but for one thing. I’ve already checked back, and the packs in both trucks were filled from the same tank.’

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Forty Two

Far away from Zero’s beleaguered capital, deep below ground in Auyvhasdh’s data centre, the Master of the Spyridi was facing a threat infinitely more deadly than the poisoning of a city’s water. Many months earlier, in this same subterranean hall, Zert and Awg had been the first to discover the attack on Asa’s helicraft. Normally, the huge room would have been alive with the banter of students and the buzz of conversation from groups of researchers. But, at the moment, the rows of desks and consoles which filled the space were empty. There was no sound other than a low background hum from the racks of computing circuitry. At the control terminal sat a single, giant figure. Xurog was at work. Assessing, examining, investigating the data: its components being dissected, sifted, analysed; the consequences considered, explored, calculated. The processing power of the Auyvhasdh terminal was considerable. It was in fact roughly eleven trillion times the total computing capacity of the Earth. And all of it was presently concentrated on a single problem. The coordinates of every detectable component of the Boscabuon galaxy were being continuously monitored and logged. Computer simulations compared actual and calculated positions and velocities. Spectroscopic measurements checked for shifts in the emitted radiation. There had now been two major changes in the approach rate, and each time the speed had markedly increased and the gap separating the two galaxies narrowed.

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The worlds of Boscabuon and Zero were now on a collision course. Not at present a direct centre to centre collision, but even if there were no further change in speed and direction the one galaxy would clip the other. In such a glancing collision, the first galaxy would steal matter from the second. Suns and their associated planets would be torn away from one system and dragged into the gravitational field of the other. On a more local scale, there would probably be some actual collisions and colossal destruction, but eventually the predatory galaxy would spin away into space having captured a portion of its victim. Boscabuon would gain new material from Zero’s galaxy, which itself would be ravaged and depleted. But even with the increase in approach velocity, this was surely not going to happen for thousands of years. The distances involved were simply too great. In the normal scheme of things Zero would be safe for a long time yet. But there was, unfortunately, another aspect to the problem. It had to do with the Dark. Gravity integrators were monitoring the build-up of the dark matter flowing in from Earth’s universe. That too had accelerated, and, at the current rate of progress, criticality would be reached in as little as 42.6 Earth years, or 1.74 x 10-12 aeons in the Zeroian scale of measurement. At that point, the remainder of the Earth’s Universe would be drawn into their own, and the two worlds would interact in the most destructive way possible. A gigantic mega-supernova on an unimaginable scale. But something was wrong, for if the Boscabuon intelligence – Ulgor to give it the name Sharibvdl had once used – were responsible for the accelerated flow of dark matter, how was it to benefit? What was the purpose? The colossal release of energy from the critical annihilation would occur whilst the oncoming galaxy was still in the far distance. Even at the accelerated approach rate of Boscabuon, the point of destruction would be reached long before the galaxies locked horns with one another. At that time, Ulgor still had a huge distance to travel.

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Unless … There was a terrifying possibility. Unless … the energy from the one was to be used to fuel the other. To distort the space-time continuum to such an extent that Boscabuon could bridge the gap. To tear a hole in the fabric of Zero’s Universe so large that the two galaxies would be brought directly together. And what if the approach rate of Boscabuon increased again? And there was no apparent reason why the flow of dark matter might not also be boosted further. But that would mean that all this could happen very soon. And allowing for the large margin of error in the calculation …

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Forty Three

‘I don’t see why she had to have him arrested,’ said Awg. ‘It was the heat of the moment,’ replied Bekdan. ‘There was a huge row when the re-analysis of tank-11 came out positive, and that was how she reacted. She’s not slept for days, and even at the best of times Asa is not renowned for her patience! She’s also doubled the guard on the tanks and at the packaging stations.’ ‘But we’re not getting to see her?’ ‘No chance now, I’m afraid. She’s gone to the hospital in the Vydarjn district to visit the ones who are recovering. You probably passed her on your way here.’ Awg and Zert had at last reached the water storage site in the west of the city – their original destination. Bekdan was one of the Zeroian scientists who had been sent over with extra equipment from Auyvhasdh. ‘It was tank-11 that the Vydarjn Square water came from, then?’ asked Awg. ‘Yes – and now that things have quietened down, I’ve got some checking to do. I need to find out how Naxaou made that mistake. He’s always been very reliable.’ ‘Well, he’s now been reliably thrown into jail. But – you’ve still got the actual sample he tested?’ ‘Of course. We only ever use a small portion for the analysis, and the remainder is kept as a record – for just such an occasion as this when the result needs to be checked.’ ‘How many o’ these tanks are there?’ asked Zert. ‘This is the way it works,’ said Bekdan. ‘Most of the time, there’s barely enough water for the city. In fact, sometimes we

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even have to generate water chemically to increase the supply. Drinking water goes out in packs.’ ‘So, does no one have water piped into their homes?’ asked Awg, intrigued. ‘No, most certainly not! The only piped water goes to the packaging plants and to a small number of licensed industrial users. If production does exceed demand, water is diverted to a series of large storage tanks which form the city’s emergency supply. There are forty-one tanks and, following Sharibvdl’s action, twenty nine of them were found to be contaminated. Of the remainder, the water sent to Vydarjn Square came from tank number eleven. And that’s what I’m going to look at now.’ ‘We’d better go,’ said Awg, not wishing to hold things up. ‘Come back in an hour or so,’ replied Bekdan. ‘Then I can tell you what I’ve found. Have a look around the site – but you’d better not go too near the tank chamber. They’re extremely edgy about that at the moment and you might find yourself the centre of some very unwelcome attention.’ * The water storage site was never meant to be a fortress – but that was what it was beginning to resemble. Built around the side of a low hill, the area was screened off from the road by a tall wire fence. Normally, there was a single security officer at the entrance, but at the moment a unit of Asa’s troops was stationed outside to guard the gate and patrol the perimeter. Inside the fence, two small buildings contained the pumping and distribution equipment together with a small laboratory for routine, on-site analysis. The storage tanks themselves were underground – a series of artificial rock basins which had been quarried out of the inside of the hill. Further troops were on guard at the tall metal gate which protected the entrance. It did not take the two friends very long to walk around the site. Then, since no-one appeared to object, they walked up the hill and sat down on the rough Zeroian grass at the top.

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‘O’ course,’ said Zert, a little uneasily, ‘could be that Asa’s grounded the right guy.’ ‘ ’Doubt it,’ responded Awg. ‘Sounds like she lost her rag and he was the one standing in the way.’ ‘Nah. Think ’bout it. This guy Naxaou looks after the little Works lab. Norm’ly dead quiet, not like now when it’s crawlin’ with folks. Not much happenin’ –just a few quality control checks each day. He’s got access to the storage tanks. All he has to do is creep in when no one’s around an’ throw a few slugs o’ toxin into the tanks. An’ then p’raps go in again later an’ lob in a bit more somewhere else when everyone’s off their guard. Then he can mislead everyone ’bout the safety o’ the water ’cos he’s the one doin’ the testin’.’ ‘Yeah, but I just don’t believe it. Apparently he’s been here for years. Bekdan obviously knew and trusted him. Why should he suddenly do something like this?’ ‘Maybe it’s not that sudden. Maybe there’s other stuff we don’ know ’bout yet. And maybe he’s paid a visit to Sharibvdl’s clinic.’ ‘Jeez! That’s a point. Perhaps the poor guy’s not in control of himself any more. We really need some way of detecting the supershapes. I’m surprised you haven’t come up with something.’ ‘I told you before – it’s not easy. But there’s ’nother reason I ha’n’t done too much on it. Did Benedict never tell you what your mate Robo’s father’s bin workin’ on?’ ‘Gary? No.’ ‘Well, wait an’ see. We’ll all find out soon. Then we’ll know if Naxaou’s a two-timer or not.’ * Robo’s father. Robo. For the thousandth time, Awg asked himself what had happened to him. Robo seemed indestructible – he was sure to be around somewhere. But where? And, at the moment, no one seemed to be looking. Or was that what Gary was doing?

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Forty Four

From their vantage point on the hill, the two friends had a bird’s eye view across the site. At present, everything seemed quiet. There was little traffic on the road outside, and the troops guarding the gate did nothing but make their regular patrols. The occasional helicraft passed noisily overhead. Then Bekdan emerged from the laboratory building. He soon spotted Awg and Zert and began to hurry up the hill, obviously greatly excited. Awg jumped to his feet. Zert was less enthusiastic. ‘Don’t get too worked up,’ he said. ‘He’s only come to tell us that Naxaou’s analysis was OK.’ Bekdan came up to them, waving his arms. ‘I have good news,’ he said. ‘Naxaou’s analysis was perfectly correct. The sample was clear. I repeated it in triplicate and all the results agreed well within the error. So there was no mistake. I’m so relieved!’ ‘Which just leaves th’other question,’ said Zert. ‘I’m sorry? What other question?’ ‘If that sample’s all hunky-dory, how come all those guys in the Square got topped through drinkin’ poisoned water?’ * ‘How the hell did you know?’ said Awg indignantly, when Bekdan had gone. ‘Why were you so sure the sample would be clear?’

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‘Jus’ worked it out. Think ’bout it.’ ‘OK. Let’s start by saying Naxaou’s what Bekdan thinks he is – a loyal employee, good at his job. He tests the sample and reports that it’s OK. And now we know it really was OK. But what if he’d made a mistake and actually the water was poisoned.’ ‘What’s the score that he’d screw up on somethin’ so important?’ replied Zert.‘I’ll bet he checked an’ double-checked.’ ‘Yeah, that makes sense. So – if we go for this one, Naxaou’s on the level, his test is OK and the water he tested wasn’t poisoned. At least, it wasn’t poisoned then.’ ‘Yep.’ ‘Case 2. Naxaou’s a crook. He poisons the water but reports that it’s harmless. People drink it and die.’ ‘Yeah – but what ’bout the sample? If it’s a real sample, it’s got poison in – an’ he’s reported it’s OK. So – either he’s loused up the analysis, or he’s lyin’. Either way, it looks bad for him. So what’s he do?’ ‘He cheats! Substitutes a pure sample,’ answered Awg. ‘That way, his test looks like it’s right and he’s in the clear. Nothing to point the finger, and it makes it look like the poison got into the water after he’d done the test.’ ‘So?’ ‘So – either way – the original sample’s going to be free of poison.’ ‘And?’ ‘And we still don’t know if Naxaou’s a traitor or not.’ ‘You gottit.’

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Forty Five

K2 arrived by helicraft. He brought news, and orders from Asa. He also brought Naxaou. Awg and Zert exchanged glances. The release of the zwnerba had been expected, although not so soon. ‘Bekdan, Naxaou – this is for you.’ K2 read from the screen of his communicator: ‘Works team: You are to keep in constant contact with the production units. Output from water storage tanks to packaging plants to be checked every hour. Input from tanks at the packaging plants to be checked every hour. No packs to be issued until the previous hour’s tests are clear. Then, random checks to be made on packs in every shipment before release to the public.’ ‘Bekdan – can you organise this?’ he asked. ‘Now that I have Naxaou back, his help and his local knowledge will be invaluable. I think also that together we may be able to set up a continuous monitoring system rather than relying on hourly samples.’ ‘And how will you source the supply itself?’ ‘The overall plan is to proceed one by one with the tanks which have tested negative for the poison, taking them in numerical order. Tank 11 will of course be abandoned for the present. Tanks 12 to 14 are known to be contaminated. So the next tank to be used is number 15. Its contents have been tested and found to be clear.’ K2 turned to Awg and Zert. ‘For you also there is a message. Asa is sorry not to have been able to greet you personally, but she has set you a task. Do you

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wish to know what it is?’ ‘Of course,’ said Awg and Zert together, both wondering what they would be asked to do but hoping it would be important and (probably) dangerous. They were surprised, but not disappointed. ‘These are Asa’s words. Your task is to set your own mission. Use the curiosity and initiative you have shown before. Investigate the unusual. Follow up the unexplained. Ask the unexpected question. You will discover that Zert’s communicator has already been partly reprogrammed …’ ‘No way,’ butted in Zert. ‘There’s no one can get into my system.’ ‘Xurog himself did it,’ said K2. ‘Holy Moly!’ ‘You have direct access to Asa. I don’t need to tell you that this is only to be used in exceptional circumstances. But it is there should you need it. You will also find that a unique signagram has been loaded. Display of this will give you access to any site on the water distribution network.’ ‘Includin’ the storage tanks?’ asked Zert. ‘Yes, even those if need be. But be patient with the guards. They will need time to verify your credentials. They have been told to admit no one except at the very highest security clearance and may be surprised at your … um … junior appearance.’ * Bekdan and Naxaou worked hard, and by nightfall had set up a system to monitor the tank output continuously. Now they would know within a few seconds if any contamination took place. By next morning they were confident enough in the design for it to be replicated at the two largest packaging plants. Tank 15 was emptied successfully and then also the next uncontaminated tank, number 16. Deliveries of water packs were made to all parts of the city. It looked as if the situation was coming under control.

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The next five tanks were all known to be poisoned. So, when the last remnants had been drained from tank 16, output was switched to number 22. It was about two-thirds empty when the alarms sounded. The outflow was immediately cut off. The commander of the guard ordered a full-scale inspection of the tank chamber. Every cistern was checked, every passageway and storage area searched. Nothing was found. ‘Someone’s got in,’ said Awg. ‘Looks like it,’ agreed Zert. They went to see Bekdan. ‘Who has access to the tank chamber?’ asked Awg. ‘Nobody except the guards, since this poisoning began,’ he answered. ‘But before that?’ ‘Just Naxaou. And the maintenance team, of course.’ ‘The maintenance team?’ ‘Yes, they come from the city workshops to service the equipment.’ ‘How often?’ ‘I’ll get Naxaou and ask him.’ ‘No, there’s no need,’ said Awg hurriedly. ‘Just give us an idea.’ ‘I think it’s every thirty days, or if they’re called out to a specific problem.’ ‘Is there a record kept?’ ‘Of course.’ He went to a screen. ‘They last came five days ago.’ ‘That’s just two days before the poisoning started.’ ‘Yes … it is … ’ About to turn the screen off, Bekdan paused. He checked back through the log. ‘It seems that, for every visit except this last one, the same person has signed the team in and then out again when they’ve finished. This last time, the usual person has signed them in but someone else has checked them out.’ ‘Another team member?’ asked Awg.

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‘Oh yes, it was another team member. Once they’re booked in any one of the team can sign them out if the foreman is occupied with some other ask. It’s just that it never seems to have happened before.’ * ‘Did you notice?’ hissed Zert as they left. ‘The names!’ ‘I couldn’t work them all out. I’m still not too good with the symbols.’ ‘For every visit, the four names was the same, like they was a regular team. Every visit ’cept this last one. Two o’ the names was the same, but two was different. An’ it was one o’ the new ones that signed ’em out.’ ‘Certainly looks suspicious.’ ‘Yeah. But if it’s connected with the poisonin’, was they all in it or was it just the two new ones? An’ if it was just them, why didn’ the others stop ’em?’ * Bekdan tested the water in tank 22 and found high levels of toxin. He also re-checked all the remaining tanks. All those known to be spoiled were found to be still poisoned and all those believed to be clear still tested negative. He noted that there were now only six tanks of pure water left (numbers 24, 27, 29, 34, 35 and 38) with no prospect at present of any refilling from the perilous main supply. It was vital that those tanks remained uncontaminated. K2 returned from Gexadkydubm HQ. He had the doors to the tank chamber sealed and placed an electronic tag on them. Now, no one could get in. Tank 23 was known to be poisoned, so, after the trouble with number 22, Bekdan switched to tank 24. They had used hardly one quarter of its contents when the alarms went off again.

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* ‘So – who’s doing it?’ said Awg. ‘Who’s putting the stuff in the tanks. And how?’ ‘There’s only one way we’re gonna find out – go an’ look.’ ‘But they’ve searched the place n times and found sod all.’ ‘That don’t mean there ain’t nothin’ to find. It’s time to use Asa’s callin’ card.’ ‘Perhaps there’s another way in – old tunnels and stuff that nobody knows about – things from a long time ago, when the cisterns were first built. Would anybody know?’ ‘If anyone knows, it’d be Naxaou – an’ I don’ think we’re gonna be askin’ him.’ ‘But maybe they don’t need a way in. Maybe they’re in already. There were four in that maintenance team. At least one must’ve come out. But what about the others?’

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Forty Six

When the poison appeared in tank 24, the guards could not investigate immediately. They were not authorised to open the chamber doors. So K2 had to be summoned again and, under direct authority from Asa, broke the seal. He accompanied the guards on their search, but again found nothing which could explain the contamination. K2 considered installing a network of infrared cameras – but that would take time they could not afford. So when Awg and Zert volunteered to mount a watch inside the chamber, he reluctantly agreed. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ he asked. ‘Definitely,’ said Awg. ‘I think it’s exactly the sort of thing Asa had in mind.’ ‘Then you must take these.’ He handed each of them a springaction syringe on a belt clip. ‘We’re dealing with a well-known nerve poison,’ he said. ‘It’s fast acting and quickly fatal. If you come into contact, fire this into a limb. But don’t use it unless you have to. The side effects of the antidote are severe, especially if you make a mistake and haven’t actually been exposed to the agent.’ Awg had tried to sound a lot more confident than he felt. The prospect of days – and nights – locked up inside a hill waiting for no-one-knew-what to appear was less than appealing. Now there was the head-on threat of the poison itself … and the antidote sounded almost as bad. Still, he did really mean the bit about Asa. This was what she expected them to do.

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* It was agreed that they would remain inside for a maximum of three days. Supplies were prepared, but when Awg and Zert went to collect them they were surprised to find three packs waiting. Bekdan appeared. ‘I thought I should tell Naxaou about your plan, and he has agreed to accompany you. In fact, he insisted that he should go with you. I’m sure you’ll find his knowledge of the place very helpful. It’s quite a labyrinth inside, and easy to get lost.’ ‘Did he – um – by any chance go with the guards when they searched the place?’ asked Zert, casually. ‘Oh yes. He went each time. They would never have found their way around, otherwise.’ As they walked back, Awg was still recovering from his surprise. ‘Holy shit! I had no idea he’d been with the guards.’ ‘Nor me neither. So p’raps he was a bit selective ’bout what he showed ’em, spec’lly if some of his mates is hiding up inside somewhere. Makes our job a whole lot harder – an’ trickier.’ * Awg was last in line as the three of them passed through the entrance to the tank chamber. He felt the sudden chill and shuddered, and the clang of the tall metal gate being locked and sealed behind them had an echo of finality about it. As the door closed, they were left in total darkness. The air felt damp and cold, and there was no sound except the occasional plat of a water drop falling from the roof. ‘Stay where you are!’ Naxaou’s voice called out from somewhere ahead. They had no idea where he had gone. A dim light appeared. There was no sign of the zwnerba. Awg wondered if any of the nerve stuff could get into the air. Would they smell it? Or if you smelt it, was it already too late?

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Zert began to use his communicator. ‘Just checkin’ the sub-terra link’s workin.’ The light grew stronger and they could see Naxaou coming towards them from the tunnel ahead. He was carrying two helmet headsets like his own. ‘There is some lighting, but wear these. Follow me.’ He led the way along a high-roofed passage, in some places hewn from the rock itself, in others lined with rough stone blocks. The way soon opened out into a large chamber, in the centre of which was a steep-sided rectangular pool. ‘Tank number one,’ said Naxaou. ‘The first made.’ ‘There don’t seem to be much water in it,’ commented Zert, warily eyeing the half-empty pit. ‘No longer used for storage. Only in transfer from one tank to another. Come.’ Awg and Zert had not been expecting any sort of home comforts. To their surprise, Naxaou took them to the side of the central chamber where a small room had been cut out of the rock. There were two ledges with bunks and a stone bench. ‘Workmen come,’ he said. ‘They mend pumps and clean tanks. Here they rest. We can use it. One will rest and two will watch. Now, follow.’ Skirting carefully around the tank in the centre, he led them into a tunnel on the opposite side of the chamber. ‘We go to the south-hill tanks. Twenty tanks. Same number on the north-hill side. Now we run number 27. That is a southhill tank.’ The tunnel had two large openings on each side, and – they could just see – a further one at the far end. They entered the second archway on the right. The area inside was about the size of a football pitch and it was divided symmetrically into four. ‘Ten tank chambers, four tanks each. All like this. All numbered in the same way – so, 26 (he pointed to the rear tank on the left), 27 (rear right), 28 (front left) and 29 (front right).’ There was no rigged lighting in the chamber. As Awg allowed the beam of his headset to sweep around the space he could see

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that a white tape had been fixed to the rail around the two lefthand tanks. Naxaou followed his gaze. ‘Contaminated. You must not go near them. Walk only on the right side. Now – you take the first watch with me?’ Awg nodded. ‘Good. We change every three hours. I stay for first four watches.’ It seemed there was no place for argument.

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Forty Seven

It was like watching paint dry, or grass grow. But slowly, almost imperceptibly, the level in the huge tank fell. Awg and Naxaou sat against the wall of the chamber, one each side of the corner. Awg felt in his pocket for the tiny button-like transmitter that Zert had given him. One squeeze and Zert would know he was in danger. It made him feel a whole lot better. He was sure that Zert would not be sleeping. This was partly because he knew that spyridi didn’t – at least in large chunks. Their metabolism worked on a system of frequent, tiny naps you hardly noticed. But also they had agreed to keep a very careful look out, whether they were supposed to be on watch or not. In fact, with Naxaou out of the way, Zert was at that moment cautiously searching the main chamber for possible hiding places or any clue to what was going on – so far, without success. When the three hours were up, he made his way back to Awg’s chamber. ‘Nothin’,’ he whispered, as they passed. ‘Try the tank rooms on th’other side.’ As Awg crept from chamber to chamber, he could hear nothing apart from the falling of water drops and the gentle splash and gurgle of the overflow weirs. So he did not hear the hum and clank of machinery as it started up. But Zert heard it, because it was directly underneath him. He leapt to his feet – but Naxaou waved him down again. ‘It is nothing. Only routine switching. Look.’ He pointed towards the tank, which was now empty. ‘Tank 27 is finished. Tank 28 not safe. Next is 29. Come.’

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They moved back towards the chamber entrance and took up position in the corresponding corner above tank 29. And that is where they were when Awg returned for the second changeover three hours later. He answered Zert’s questioning look with a quick shake of the head. Still nothing. Dank and dripping, its walls glistening in the light from their headsets, tank 29 began to empty. Slowly – very slowly – the level crept downwards. Awg’s head began to nod. He quickly recovered, and was on the point of forcing his eyes wide open when he realised that Naxaou was watching him. So he let his head nod, and squinted through his almost-shut eyes, and remained extremely wide awake. After a while, Naxaou very quietly stood up. Awg could barely breathe, although his heart was trying for an Olympic record. His fingers were poised on Zert’s button transmitter. He wondered if they would contract and sound the alarm if he was suddenly struck, or whether they would relax helplessly as he was tipped senseless into the dark waters of the tank. But Naxaou slipped noiselessly past him and disappeared through the archway. Awg was still wondering whether to follow him when the zwnerba returned. He was carrying a box with several wires trailing from it. Naxaou set the box down near the edge of the tank and was in the process of attaching the wires to something when he became aware that Awg was staring at him with his eyes wide open. For a moment, the two looked at one another without speaking. Then Naxaou bent down and pressed a switch on the side of the box. At once a brilliant beam of light flooded their corner of the chamber. ‘Headlamps not enough. I have brought a stronger light.’ Awg swallowed hard and took a series of very deep breaths. He jumped at a sound from the archway, but it was only Zert returning once more. For a while, all three of them sat and kept watch together.

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What happened next came so unexpectedly and was so shocking that Awg had nightmares about it for weeks afterwards. There was a loud click, like the release of a safety catch. The sound, small in itself, reverberated around the chamber. Awg braced himself, expecting an attack. As he looked wildly around for the source of the sound, the beam of his headset threw exaggerated shapes and shadows into every corner. Zert grabbed his arm. ‘Keep still. Jus’ look for movement.’ But there was none. Just an odd sound. The sound of bubbles rising to the surface of the otherwise still, dark water. Zert’s communicator burst into life. K2’s voice, urgent. ‘What can you see? What’s happening? There’s alarms going off everywhere out here!’ ‘Something’s bubbling,’ shouted Awg. ‘We’re just going to look.’ Naxaou tilted his powerful lamp so that it shone down into the depths of the tank. Outlined in the spotlight, a few feet below the present level of the water, was a small cylinder. From it, a stream of bubbles was rising to the surface. The device was the same colour as the tank wall and would have been impossible to see without the tell-tale shadow cast by the zwnerba’s penetrating beam. Before they could stop him, Naxaou swung himself over the side of the tank. Holding the rail with one hand, he stretched a long, muscular arm below the water and wrenched the cylinder away from the wall. He climbed back and held it up for them all to see. He gave a cry of triumph. A single drop of an oily blue liquid dripped from the base of the cylinder and ran down his arm, leaving a line of yellow blisters on the silver skin. The arm became rigid, as if instantaneously frozen. With horrifying speed, the silent wave of destruction passed through his entire body. Naxaou’s life drained away, and a living being was transformed within a few seconds into a pillar of inanimate tissue. Then the pillar buckled, and fell.

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171

Forty Eight

‘It was horrific,’ said Awg. ‘He just stood there like a statue but you could see he was already dead. His eye was staring out at nothing, and then he just crumpled up. That blue stuff must have been really deadly.’ ‘It was the pure substance,’ said K2.‘Thousands of times more concentrated than when people drank it in the water. It was absorbed through his skin and he was killed almost instantly. He was brave, and foolhardy – and unlucky.’ ‘Yeah,’ added Zert. ‘He was ’xactly like Bekdan said – loyal, an’ dedicated to his job. He said he wanted to help us, an’ that was the whole of it.’ It was evening when they had emerged from the tank chamber. Then the troops had gone in to begin the cleanup operation. Naxaou’s whole body was so toxic that it had to be removed in a sealed container. ‘Have you finished scannin’ the tanks?’ asked Zert. K2 nodded. ‘Cylinders of toxin were found in three of the remaining four. Luckily, because of what you told us, we were able to remove them without contaminating the water.’ ‘Pressure activated, then – like I guessed?’ said Zert. ‘Yes. Fixed well below the water line and set to open at different pressures. So, as the tanks emptied and the water level dropped, the valve in the base opened and released the poison – but at different levels and times for each one.’ ‘So there never was anyone else inside the chamber.’ said Awg. ‘Even though it looked like someone was in there dosing the tanks. It was all completely automatic!’

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‘S’pose it was that last gang o’ workmen that set it all up. An’ for a few tanks they jus’ poisoned the whole thing. The cylinder stuff was done so’s we’d get confused later on.’ ‘That shows Sharibvdl’s cunning,’ said K2. ‘He knew the tanks were reserves and wouldn’t normally get used. So he hit the main supply first – and then waited for us to switch over to the tanks – knowing we’d get hit again as soon as we reached one of the poisoned ones.’ Over the next few days, Bekdan discovered that the toxin could be removed from the water by filtering it through a bed of a special clay. So, one by one, the contaminated tanks were emptied and washed out whilst the poisoned water was purified and pumped back in. This process also supplied the last link in the puzzle when the bodies of the two regular maintenance workers were found at the bottom of tank one, weighted down with stone blocks. Once they had fulfilled their function of gaining admittance, they had been surplus to requirements. * Bekdan summarised the situation on the water supply. ‘We have the contents of tanks 34, 35 and 38 – which were rescued before the poison had been released. In addition, the water we have purified has been enough to refill eleven more tanks, which makes a total of fourteen in all – roughly one third of the normal reserve amount.’ ‘How long will that supply the packaging plants?’ asked K2. ‘It is sufficient for one week’s normal usage, or three weeks with rationing and no release to commercial businesses.’ ‘And how long before the main supply can be restored?’ ‘We hope it can be freed from the current contamination in about two weeks. But the system is so complex. Sharibvdl may be able to find other ways … ’ *

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Awg and Zert were returning to Operations HQ in the New City. They said their farewells to Bekdan. Awg wanted to say something else, but didn’t know how to. ‘About Naxaou … we couldn’t stop him … it happened so fast. But we should … it would be nice if … ’ ‘Yes,’ said Bekdan. ‘There will be a memorial here when we have time for such things. He will be remembered.’ And seeing that Awg was still troubled, he added, ‘I know you doubted him. You were right to be cautious. But you must not blame yourself.’ But Awg was disturbed for another reason. He’d been thinking about Zert’s words when they were sitting together on that first morning of their visit. They’d wondered if Naxaou might be one of Sharibvdl’s ‘supershapes’* – an undercover saboteur. Something had troubled him about the idea – but at the time Awg didn’t know what it was. Since then, he’d gone back to the notebook from his time-bubble visit to Zero’s capital city and realised what he should have remembered.

Supershapes: small number, mostly male, usually in groups, look prosperous … there were no zwnerbas.

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Forty Nine

Awg did not enjoy his overnight stay in the New City. His room in Operations HQ reminded him too much of a cell, and he found the atmosphere of the underground offices and passageways claustrophobic and depressing. There was also something else. He had the feeling that something was about to happen – something that everyone else knew about and he didn’t. So he wasn’t altogether surprised when K1 appeared and announced that they were to attend an important event. Outside the HQ building a helicar was waiting. K1 had said nothing about their destination. Awg noted that Zert, usually eager for news to the point of bluntness, wasn’t pressing him for information. Awg was becoming apprehensive. ‘You know about this, don’t you?’ he hissed. ‘You’ve been told what this thing’s all about. I’ll bet you’ve even done some work on it yourself.’ Zert was saying nothing, which confirmed Awg’s suspicions. Their helicar left the dusty monotony of New Gexadkydubm behind and clattered over the bridge. Very soon they were rattling through the narrow streets and dark alleys of the Old City. Normally thronged with a noisy bustle of people, everything was eerily quiet. Where individuals did appear, they moved quickly, almost furtively, from place to place, disappearing into buildings or the unlit courtyards as soon as they could. Plants and trees were yellowing from lack of water. The shadow of death and deprivation hung over the city.

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They drove northwards, stopping eventually in one of the large squares that made up the administrative district. At it’s centre was a black, stepped pyramid. It was huge – even larger than the one Awg had visited during his first journey to the city and which held the city archive. Awg wondered how many steps would take them to its flat top. A hundred? Two hundred? He counted twenty-eight up to the level at which they entered. They were in a very small room, and there was something very odd about it. This was partly explained when it began to move. Sideways. After a few moments the movement stopped and the double doors at the opposite side opened. Awg tried to guess how far they had travelled. Perhaps forty or fifty feet? K1 answered the unasked question. ‘We have traversed about two or three times the width of this conveyor. That is the thickness of the walls. They are made of reinforced pacstone lined with micronian plate. It is a very secure space.’ They emerged on to a balcony overlooking a vast subterranean floor of machinery and electronic equipment. The scale of the installation took Awg’s breath away. The only thing he had ever seen remotely like it was in the film of the original plasma transport machine that he had been shown in the Adventurers’ Museum at Chykideyh. He turned to Zert. ‘What the hell is all this?’ he asked. ‘Can’t you guess? It’s the Works – the system that’s held our society together for hundreds of years.’ ‘And brought me here from Llangarreg by accident? … ’ Discussion was cut short as their group was swept onwards towards a long, oval table at which sat many figures that he did not recognise. In fact, there were types of beings that he had never seen before. At least, he assumed that the shapes he saw were beings. He tried to calm his knotted insides by not examining them too closely. Awg was looking at the Principals of the Galactic Council.

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There were also people he knew. On one side sat the Director of the Records Office. Opposite, and next to one another, Gary Robertson and Xurog. At the end nearest to them, Asa. And, at the far end, a wizened ghost that, with an effort, he recognised as the Patrician. All except the Patrician rose to greet them. Many eyes (and other organs of vision) were upon them, and it was clear that they were known and their presence expected. Awg wondered how much of their story had already been told. ‘Welcome.’ It was Asa who spoke. They had met again at last. Awg had forgotten how commandingly beautiful she was: how tall, and how finely-shaped her features. His rescuer and desert companion – but now with a new air of assurance and grim determination. A gulf of time and experience separated their adventures at the Old Fort from the present. The desperate rebel was now the accepted Leader, the urgency of the moment having swept old hostilities aside. Asa beckoned the newcomers to join the assembly at the table. ‘Our company of observers is now complete. We are here to end the activities of the traitor Sharibvdl and those who support him. If we do not, there will be no rule of law and we shall fall prey to the greater danger that approaches. Destruction by the galaxy Boscabuon will be inevitable if we are divided amongst ourselves and there is no united force to counter it. ‘Our justice system is self-acting and impartial. It has formed the backbone of our community for almost a thousand years. But now the process is failing and it has become necessary to make a change. My Father has – reluctantly – given his permission.’ The figure at the end of the table nodded almost imperceptibly, as a statue might nod. ‘Sharibvdl,’ continued Asa, ‘has contrived some form of immunity from our judicial network. He and his accomplices have placed themselves outside the law. They are invisible to the system, and therefore invulnerable to detection and punishment.

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What we are about to do will change that situation. Their protection will be destroyed.’ ‘I wish they’d just get on with it,’ whispered Awg. ‘Every moment they spend talking is bringing that galaxy closer and giving Sharibvdl more time to plot.’ ‘You don’ understan’ what a big deal this is for us,’ said Zert. ‘That’s why I was sworn to secrecy an’ had to promise I wouldn’t even tell you.’ ‘But what’ll it do – what’s going to happen?’ ‘That’s the problem. We know how it’ll start, but we dunno what’ll happen next. We got plans an’ predictions o’ course – but nob’dy can really tell. Nothin’ like it’s ever bin done before.’

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Fifty

‘They done loadsa research o’ course. But the thing’s so big an’ bin goin’ so long. There’s stuff they wanna change – the reason they’re doin’ it – but there’s bound to be other fall-out – stuff that nobody’s thought of … ‘It’s what Gary’s bin workin’ on. Look – there’s the new tunin’ section. That’s the bit they’ve altered.’ Zert pointed towards the right. Awg looked down across the monumental array of equipment and attempted to take in some of the detail. He could see that most of the set-up looked very old. Once again he was reminded of the apparatus he had seen at the Adventurers’ Museum. ‘So this whole thing,’ said Awg,‘all this stuff – is what operates the automatic policing system – the thing that got me to Zero when I broke into Benedict’s clock.’ ‘You got it. This is the Central Control.’ Where Zert was pointing it was obvious that an entirely new section had been constructed. Everything looked cleaner, more compact and much more like the up-to-date stuff he had seen in other parts of Zero. It also clearly represented a huge amount of work. ‘Y’see, they’re doin’ it to catch Sharibvdl an’ his mates. But it’ll re-scan the entire pop’lation.’ ‘Even us?’ ‘Even us. So if the new data sets an’ records ain’t right … ’ Asa rose again to her feet. She moved to her father’s side. ‘Father, it is for you to do this – if that is what you wish.’

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‘It is not what I wish.’ The voice was faint and brittle, like the settling of ash in a dying fire. ‘It is not what I wish – but it is what you have told me is necessary.’ Leaning heavily on Asa’s arm, he was helped forwards. At the edge of the balcony was a single seat, in front of which was a black screencube. Awg could see that inside was a three dimensional display of curved lines and circles. It was like the diagram he had seen in the control room at the Auyvhasdh transfer station. Only, this one was glowing and pulsing as if it were alive. Xurog moved forward to join those at the black cube where the Patrician was now seated. ‘Within this screen,’ said Xurog, ‘we have the termini of the final set of interface connections. At one level is the old network, which at this moment is still in operation. At the second level is the system which is to be. To make the change, it is necessary only to touch the screen.’ The Patrician raised his hand. To Awg it seemed as if the action cost him a huge effort. And then the voice – so faint that Awg could barely catch the words: ‘I make this change … in the hope … that it will secure … a future for our people – and … for all those … whose world’s survival depends … upon our own.’

The Patrician sat with his hand still raised, staring into the screencube as if transfixed. To his right were Asa and the Director of the Records Office. On his left were Gary Robertson, Awg and Zert. Others stood behind. Then the Patrician touched the screen. A polydimensional shock wave erupted from the centre of the pyramid and rippled out across the galaxy, and beyond. Far out in space, the intelligence at the heart of Boscabuon – ever watchful, ever alert to opportunity – felt the surge of power and stretched out its mind towards it. On Zero itself, the shock wave ripped through those who had set it in motion. To Zert, the hall seemed to blur, then snap back into focus. The Patrician and the Director of the Records

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Office felt nothing at all. Gary heard his son’s voice. Awg was dealt a painful flashback to the instant when he had first woken up in Tukzadryk prison. Then an explosion of darkness went off inside his head. No one knew what Asa felt, or saw, or heard. Nor could they ask her, because between the Patrician and the Director there was now only empty space.

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Fifty One

‘Awg … Awg … Awg … AWG!’ Someone was calling his name, shaking him, slapping his face … Awg opened his eyes fully to find himself on a bed in a small room with Zert and Gary by his side. ‘Where the hell am I?’ ‘In the Control Centre medical room. You bin out cold for two hours.’ ‘Have I been anywhere else?’ ‘Only on th’Observation Floor for the switchover. Where d’you think you’d bin?’ ‘I don’t know, but it was bad. And it was all so vivid. I think Ulgor nearly got me because that voice began to talk to me again. Something went Pow! inside my head – like it’d just been filled with ink. But then the blackness cleared, and it was like I was in a time bubble.’ ‘Like when you jumped into that black box at Chikideyh?’ ‘Yeah, just like that. Nothing seemed real, or to make sense – and then I seemed to be walking across the desert again … ’ * Awg was given a medical check and then allowed to rest. Zert stayed with him, which was how Awg learned that he was not the only casualty of the switchover process. ‘What do you mean, she disappeared ?’

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Jus’ like I said – when th’Patrician touched that screen you dropped like you’d bin zapped with a zillion volts an’ Asa jus’ vanished. It’s stuff like that they were afraid of – somethin’ big an’ totally unexpected. Zert cast a glance at Awg to see how he looked. ‘When you feels well enough, we’ll trek ’long to Gary an’ find out how the search is goin’.’ * The eight screencubes surrounding the desk in Gary Robertson’s office gave some idea of the frenetic activity underway in the control centre. Awg and Zert’s eyes darted from one screen to another. Gary looked worn out. ‘We knew there’d be mistakes and incomplete data,’ he said. ‘People charged with crimes they’d not committed, unintentional auto-extraditions, convicted criminals mistakenly released from detention. We expected this and planned for it. ‘What we did not anticipate was that one of the casualties of the change would be our Leader – or should I say our Acting Leader.’ ‘No clues yet?’ queried Awg. ‘The trigger was easy enough to find. It was trivial – that old business about her not being a qualified pilot. There’s a longstanding charge on the system, but it was annulled in view of her years of experience. ‘Demonstrable Competence’ is what’s been entered. But that’s evidently not recognised by the new program. The system identified it as a long-standing ‘offence’, so it auto-extradited her. ‘So, what’s the problem?’ asked Zert. ‘The problem is – that we can’t trace where she’s gone.’ *

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Four hours later, there was still no news. Gary had been called to a meeting with Xurog. Awg and Zert sat alone in his office, watching the screencubes. ‘I can’t believe the bit about her pilot’s licence,’ said Awg. ‘If the new system can’t cope with that, it’s rubbish.’ ‘Nah. It’s stupid stuff like that that happens. You gets all the hard stuff right an’ then the system crashes ’cos you forgot to program-in the right date or somethin’. All the same, though, it’s mighty suspicious … ’ ‘You mean?’ ‘I mean Asa’s a prime target – probably the prime target – an’ everythin’ around her shouldda bin ultra secure. But if someone somewhere was lookin’ for the tiniest weak link … ’ ‘Sharibvdl?’ ‘Nah. This’d be beyond him – technology’s too complex.’ ‘His ‘boss’ – Ulgor?’ ‘More likely.’ ‘Hell! What does Gary think?’ ‘No idea. Shouldn’ think he’d wanna go there. Not while he’s still agonisin’ over the other thing.’ ‘Where Robo is, you mean? I haven’t dared even mention that to him – not after the way he went for me last time. I’ve kept thinking we’d hear something, but …’ ‘Shall I take a look on his data system? It’s still active. Gary didn’ sign out.’ ‘I don’t like going behind his back. But … if there is anything, we ought to know about it. There might just be something we could do.’ But there was nothing. Nor anything on Asa. But they had more luck with Sharibvdl. ‘Look! First scan after the changeover gives a pos’tive identification!’ ‘So the new system did find him,’ breathed Awg. ‘Where was the bastard?’ ‘Here in Gexadkydubm, in the north o’ the city. Presumably hidin’ out in one o’ the big houses with his rich buddies. But

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then – look what happens to the trace – it all disappears again!’ ‘So the re-tuning business failed after all?’ ‘Nah, don’t think so. Could be a good sign. There’s loadsa problems with the trackin’ system at the moment. The fact he’s gone from the city prob’bly means he’s bin auto-extradited successfully. Once the whole thing’s stabilised, we should be able to log all the transfers, includin’ Sharibvdl’s – an’ Asa’s.’ ‘And Robo’s – if he was that ‘prohibited event’ that got the Nerians rattled?’ ‘If that was him, there’s a good chance we’ll find what happened.’

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Fifty Two

When Gary eventually returned, he seemed more relaxed. ‘It’s not quite such a disaster as we thought’ he said, sinking into a chair. ‘The system does seem to be settling down. It looks like we’ll get the new locations soon. And that should include a fix on Asa.’ ‘How … How’s the Patrician?’ asked Awg, cautiously. ‘Still in a state of shock. Feels his worst fears have been realised. He’s retired to the Palace and given orders he’s only to be disturbed if there’s news of his daughter.’ Awg was relieved that Gary appeared to be talking quite normally to them. His earlier antagonism seemed to have subsided, and Awg was keen to take advantage of this apparent thaw in their relationship. After all, Robo was his best human friend and he didn’t like to be regarded as an adversary by his father. ‘Zert told me it was some of your work that made this change possible,’ he said. ‘I’d like to hear how you did it.’ ‘No. It’s largely Xurog’s achievement,’ answered Gary, although obviously pleased at the compliment. ‘I can only claim a very small piece of the credit. ‘It all started when Xurog came to see me in hospital. There were quite a few visitors. I think most of them were just curious to get a look at me. That’s probably why even Xurog came at first – to find out what a scientist from Earth was like. But once he’d discovered that my level of scientific understanding wasn’t quite so primitive as he’d imagined, then we got on together rather well.’

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‘An’ what did you think o’ Xurog?’ asked Zert, mischievously. ‘Um … I have to admit the experience took a bit of getting used to.’ Zert rocked himself from side to side and clicked with amusement. ‘Eventually, we got on to the Boscabuon Problem,’ Gary went on. ‘Xurog didn’t raise it at first because he wasn’t sure how I’d react, and didn’t want to make me ill again. But, as Zert knows, that’s the reason I stayed here on Zero, because the situation was so serious. At first, we had little real idea of the timescale, but when it became clear that this might be quite short, we sent Benedict back to warn you. ‘In the meanwhile, I’d also learnt about Sharibvdl’s activities and I began to ask questions about this extraordinary law enforcement system.’ ‘That’s how I got to Zero in the first place,’ put in Awg. ‘And all by accident!’ ‘It seemed to me that the auto-extradition system held the key to the Sharibvdl problem, because if only we could find out how he was avoiding it, then his whole organisation could be rounded up. The entire problem could be resolved in one strike. ‘What I learned was this. The auto-extradition system has three main components. The first step is ‘crime detection’. Then there’s ‘personnel identification’. And finally, ‘sentencing and punishment’. It was that second part I was interested in. As soon as some criminal activity is detected, there’s a scan which identifies the genetic types present and pinpoints the location. For humans, it would recognise their DNA.’ ‘So it targets the lawbreakers and finds where they are?’ said Awg. ‘Yes. Now it turns out that, provided certain legal criteria are met, the authorities can also use the system to check the whereabouts of suspected offenders. So, of course, they had been trying to find Sharibvdl. He is a public official and his genetic profile is well documented. But a personnel scan found no trace of him. He was invisible to the system. That is the

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immunity provided by the microchip implant – the existence of which you, Awg, discovered.’ ‘That was on my virtual visit to the city,’ said Awg. ‘It was because of that you got rescued from the time bubble.’ There was an awkward silence. Awg had meant it just as a comment, but it sounded like a reproach. ‘I’m sorry,’ said Gary. ‘You must think me very ungrateful. Especially that night at the hostel in Auyvhasdh.’ ‘That’s OK. You were up tight about Jonathan. But we care too.’ ‘I understand that now. But – let me finish the story. ‘Once I had realised about the microchip, I suggested to Xurog that the scanning method be changed. He gave me a long list of reasons why this was impossible – too technically complex, too long established, the Patrician would never allow it, and so on. However, he did agree to let me look at the electrologic diagram of how section-2 operated. It was staggeringly complex. ‘It took me two months, and with a lot of help, to understand how the system worked. Some of it I had to take on trust, because our own technology has no parallels. However, I was able to spot something which – eventually – proved to be the key. The identity scan has what might be called a ‘carrier frequency’. It’s not really like that – because the beam is not solely electromagnetic – but it was an analogy I could latch on to. And there seemed to me to be no reason why – within certain limits – that frequency should not be changed.’ ‘So if the implant works by blockin’ recognition o’ this frequency,’ said Zert, ‘it’d get knocked out completely if the frequency was changed. It’d get by-passed an’ jus’ wouldn’ work any more.’ ‘Exactly. And the protection for Sharibvdl and his cronies would be removed. ‘By this time, Xurog was coming round to the idea that the thing might be possible technically, although a completely new tuning section would have to be built. But the biggest

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problem was the Patrician, who refused to sanction any change whatsoever. However, we showed him how the interference from Boscabuon had already brought the system near to the point of collapse. The change we were proposing stood a good chance of getting around that problem as well. So, eventually, he agreed – a decision he is at the moment bitterly regretting.’

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Fifty Three

Robo was unlucky. He should have stayed asleep in his room at the hostel on Qun. His night-time wanderings were going to bring him a massive amount of grief. The Nerians were also going to be upset. The power unit in the lamp carried the same type of antitamper device that had caused Awg so much trouble originally. It was a standard component in all equipment exported from Zero under licence. And this time the device was located on a planet within Zero’s galaxy. So, in theory, the auto-extradition mechanism should indeed have been in operation. However, the chances of it actually working under the current conditions of virtually non-existent beam stability were about 10x to 1 against, where x = a very large number. Which all goes to show that probability is exactly what it says and a very small chance is still a finite possibility. So, Robo was unlucky. He got transported away to a prison on planet Zero, just as Awg had been in the past. But his luck further deteriorated in that he did not end up in Tukzadryk, where there was still vivid memory, recollection and folklore about Awg’s now-legendary visit and its consequences. In Tukzadryk, a repeat of the same type of incident would have produced a reaction along the lines Jeblhybd! We got another one. In these circumstances, Robo would not have stayed in his cell very long before finding himself released and among friends. Friends being defined in this instance as people who vaguely recognise what sort of being you are and do not have an immediate and overwhelming desire to kill you.

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The prison to which Robo was transferred was very different to Tukzadryk and, at first sight, a great deal less life threatening. It had been built as a social experiment in correction, education and rehabilitation for those who had committed relatively minor offences. The cells were more like hostel rooms, there were no locks on the doors and the inmates were allowed to roam (almost) freely. There was a library, and there were workrooms and a garden. So far, so good. Having recovered from the debilitating effects of the transportation process, Robo was assigned a room and shown around. A welded metal security bracelet was fixed on his right arm, just above the wrist, and it was explained that this would prevent him from leaving the prison. At first he had felt inclined to resist this intrusion, but gave in when he discovered – painfully – that it was a complete waste of time trying to struggle against the massive strength of an eight-foot tall zwnerba. It was then quietly pointed out to him that (1) the bracelet would do him no harm provided he stuck to the Rules, and (2) there was no alternative. * Once he had got over the shock of his sudden and unintentional journey, Robo set about exploring the place in which he found himself. Like most of Zero’s prisons, it was now almost empty. The auto-policing system had proved so effective that for years no citizen had bothered to break the law. It simply wasn’t worth it, because you were always found out. But the rise of the Sharibvdl mafia empire had spawned a new criminal class, and in doing so had provided the prisons with a new function. They had become dumping grounds for those who raised their voices against Sharibvdl’s community policies (e.g. of theft, blackmail and extortion). The few inmates of Robo’s jail were mostly beings like himself who had arrived either by accident or

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through the malicious manipulations of others. To keep all this running smoothly, there was of course a complex bureaucracy which ensured that things happened methodically, by the Rules, and very, very slowly. The fatal implications of this Robo was soon to discover. Behind the accommodation blocks there was a walled garden. Most of it was abandoned and overgrown, but in one of the far corners an area had been fenced off. Within this there were fruit trees, a flower garden and neat rows of vegetable plants. At one end, some large stones had been arranged to form a seat. Robo settled down to stare at the strange sights before him, much as Awg had done on his first visit to Gexadkydubm. There seemed no doubt that he was indeed looking at fruit, vegetables and flowers, but their colours, shapes and manner of growth were unlike anything that Robo had seen on Earth. ‘I expect that they surprise you.’ Robo jumped up, startled. The owner of the voice was a very old native Zeroian, his skin brown and wrinkled like one of the fallen fruits. ‘Is this your garden?’ said Robo, apologetically. ‘I’m sorry if I shouldn’t be in here.’ ‘It is indeed my garden. But you are welcome. My garden and I are pleased to welcome another visitor from Earth.’ Robo was astonished. ‘How did you know where I come from. The prison wardens don’t seem to have a clue who I am or where I’m from.’ ‘No. To them, the system has merely gathered another offender. All they are interested in is that you are here. And even that will be forgotten in time.’ ‘But how did you know I was from Earth?’ ‘I recognised your features. You are quite like him, only younger. He was my friend – my teacher. Our teacher. He taught us to make this garden. He told us that to heal your mind you have to care for something outside yourself. To plant things and watch them grow. He came here often. There were many of us then, and the whole garden was a thing of beauty.

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My friend taught us many things – come and look.’ In the far corner of the garden was a building, so overgrown with vine-like creepers that Robo had not even noticed it. ‘We made pots from clay and dried them in the sun. In them we grew the seeds. We even made our own tools.’ Hanging up were implements made from discarded pieces of wood and metal – a roughly made spade and a fork, a rake, a saw and a scythe. ‘We beat the metal with stones to make the shapes, and then with pieces of millstone we fashioned the cutting tools. They are very sharp.’ Robo took a good look at his companion. It was impossible to tell how old he might be. ‘How did you get to be here?’ he asked. ‘I arrived by some sort of accident.’ ‘That is how most people got here – by some sort of accident. For myself, I think I did something bad – but now I can’t remember any more. I only remember that I was very unhappy. And now I am happy all the time. To make a garden is happiness.’ Hanging up in the corner was a garment of some sort. Robo took it down and shook off the dust. It was a black habit with a hood. ‘That was what he wore when we worked here together, my friend and I. He was a good man.’ ‘What was his name?’ ‘I can’t remember. It was a long time ago.’ ‘You said there were many of you.’ ‘Yes, there are. Come and look.’ He led the way to a gate in the rear wall. Beyond were several rows of small mounds, a delicate garland of flowers on the top of each. ‘I care for them because they are my friends.’ ‘Do you mean these are …?’ ‘Yes, these are their graves.’ ‘So – they died before their sentence was complete?’

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‘Who knows? No one ever leaves. The sentence is never complete. Once you are here, no further record is kept.’ ‘How long have you been here?’ asked Robo, suspiciously. ‘I don’t know. A long time. It is of no consequence.’ ‘The friend who taught you things – does he still come here?’ ‘I don’t think so. Not for a long time. He was a good man.’ ‘But you can’t remember his name. Was it – ‘Benedict’?’ ‘Yes! That was it! Benedict. My dear friend Benedict – who taught us to put the bad things in our lives behind us, and to find joy in a garden.’

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Fifty Four

(ex-)Mayor Sharibvdl, on the other hand, was very, very lucky indeed. As Awg and Zert had foreseen, he had indeed been identified and captured by the relaunched auto-extradition system. However, not only did he find himself in one of the smaller and less remote prisons, but also quickly discovered that his tactic of placing relatives and well-chosen friends in the prison administration had paid off handsomely. Rather than a cell, he was given an extremely comfortable suite of rooms, and assured that he could leave/escape at any time he wished. But his final piece of luck was the best of all. Another recent arrival in the same jail had been an alien boy. Sharibvdl made enquiries. * Gary Robertson was alone in his office when the message came. Things had been going well. The glitches were getting sorted out and the new system was bedding in nicely. Now at last he would have time to search for Jonathan. And then, breaking through the firewall of the security system, the face of Sharibvdl appeared on the messaging screen. An emergency link cut in, so everyone saw what followed. There was no need to check Sharibvdl’s location. He was announcing it himself. And his message was a simple and familiar one: safe passage and immunity for himself and all his associates or … He addressed himself directly to Gary.

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‘Dr Robertson. I am a businessman, and I expect the freedom to pursue my interests without restraint. Because of your interference, that freedom is gone. So it is you who will guarantee that it is restored. Let me show you something.’ A recorded image of Robo appeared on the screen. ‘Observe your son. He is – at the moment – alive and in good health. He is even free to move around as he chooses. But notice his arm.’ A sudden close-up showed a bright circle of metal around Robo’s wrist. ‘One of my colleagues will explain to you what this is.’ The screen shot widened to show one of the prison supervisors. ‘The prisoners here are free to move around as they wish. However, for each offender, and depending on the gravity of their offence, a limit to their freedom is imposed. In most cases, they are not permitted to go beyond the prison boundary.’ ‘And now,’ continued Sharibvdl, ‘would you be so good as to tell us what happens if a prisoner strays outside his allotted territory?’ ‘First, the inmate receives a warning shock from the security bracelet.’ ‘And then?’ ‘If a prisoner continues to proceed unchecked, they receive a stunning charge which renders them unconscious. Guards then retrieve them.’ ‘Correct,’ said Sharibvdl. ‘And what would be the effect if perhaps arrangements were made to increase the stunning charge – let us say by a factor of a hundred.’ The prison supervisor gasped, clearly taken aback. ‘Then of course the prisoner would be killed instantly.’ ‘Quite so.’ The camera moved in so that Sharibvdl’s unctuous features filled the screen. ‘So, if your son should try to escape – or, by the way, attempt to remove the bracelet – that is what will happen. The system

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also has a most useful direct mode of control, which we will be setting up to operate at this time tomorrow. If you have not agreed to my requests by then, the circuit will close – and your son will die.’ Alone in his office, Gary Robertson sat motionless, unable to take in the full horror of the situation. Sharibvdl could not see him, but pictured his helplessness and revelled in it. ‘It’s not much to ask, Dr Robertson, is it? A few simple actions in exchange for a young life. Surely your son is worth it? But perhaps he should ask you himself … ’ The screen changed to show Robo in a bare room, sitting on a chair. He looked utterly dejected. But then some signal was given, so that he knew he was on camera, and his face changed to a look of pride and defiance. ‘I’m supposed to be begging for my life, telling you to do stuff you shouldn’t do … ’ The picture jerked and tilted, indicating angry movements behind the camera. Robo’s face showed that he had nothing but contempt for whatever silent threats were being made to him. ‘So what I’m gonna say is DON’T GIVE IN TO THEM. PLEASE! THEY’LL PROBABLY KILL ME ANYWAY AND I’M NOT AFRAID TO … ’ The figure of a huge zwnerba loomed into the frame, knocked Robo to the ground and dragged him away. The screen faded. There was silence.

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Fifty Five

Bruised and shaken, Robo sat in his cell. After a while he got up and tried the door. To his surprise, it still opened easily. He cautiously peered outside. There was no guard. But of course, there was no need for one. The thing on his arm was all the restraint Sharibvdl needed. The rear door of the block was also open as usual. Robo quietly slipped out. Even now expecting every moment to be stopped, he began to walk down the path to the walled garden. Nothing stirred. Once safely inside, he found everything as it had been, although there was no sign of its guardian. Robo sat down on the stone seat and closed his eyes. A desperate plan had formed in his mind. He was facing the most difficult decision of his life, and he made it coolly and with calm deliberation. At all costs, he was not giving in to Sharibvdl. That way led only to chaos and destruction for a countless number of others. Therefore he himself had either to die, or, if he possibly could, find some way to survive. There seemed to be only one course of action. This is how he reasoned with himself: I will not die from the blow if I prepare myself for it. I will die from loss of blood if I don’t find a way to control it. I may die from blood poisoning if I don’t guard against it. His mind was made up. First, he went to an area of the garden where a small plot of

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herbs grew. Although he did not recognise any of the Zeroian species, he knew that Benedict would have introduced things that were useful for cooking and healing. Systematically, he broke off leaves and rubbed them between his fingers. Then he chose the three plants which seemed to have the most fragrant and wholesome smell, collected leaves from each and took them into the shed. There, he found a stone bowl. He took from his pocket a tube of water from the supply in his room and poured a few drops into the bowl. Then he dropped half of the leaves in, and with a clean stone pounded them into a paste. Next he took down the scythe. With the whetstone he honed its blade to the sharpest edge he could manage, then smeared a layer of his herb ointment all the way along it. Then he wedged the end of its shaft into the floor at the corner of the hut so that the blade could move up and down, but not slip sideways. The rake proved to be just the right length as a prop to hold the scythe almost upright. Hoping his old friend would forgive him, Robo went outside and dismantled the garden seat. He rebuilt some of it as a slab bench inside the hut and used a ball of twine to attach the heaviest stone to the head of the scythe. Robo carefully removed the prop and, supporting the stone, checked out the arc through which the scythe would fall. He positioned the slab seat about two-thirds of the way down its travel, moving it sideways until the blade just glanced its edge. He then raised the scythe to its highest point, replaced the prop and hung the stone. Finally, he made a loop of twine around the base of the prop and draped the free end over the seat. With a whispered apology to its absent owner, Robo took down Benedict’s habit and tore several strips of cloth from the bottom. He had been afraid that the fabric would be rotten but in fact it proved to be sound. All was now ready. Robo sat firmly on the far edge of the seat. Laid out on the floor in front of him were the remainder of the leaves, the strips

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of cloth and the bowl of leaf ointment. He very gently slid the deadly bracelet as far as it would go down his arm and then tied a cloth strip just a little above it, slipping a piece of wood through the knot. Robo twisted the peg as tightly as he possibly could and tucked it into the cloth so that it couldn’t unwind.* The cloth strip cut painfully into his arm but he knew that was exactly right. The tighter the better. He smeared some more of the ointment around his wrist. Then he laid his arm squarely across the seat – with the tourniquet on the slab, and his hand and the bracelet just over the edge. He did a last check that everything was set. Then he pressed his right arm hard down on the seat, held the string tightly in his left, closed his eyes, and jerked the prop away.

This constriction stops the flow of blood and is known as a tourniquet. Robo was a qualified first-aider and knew about stuff like that.

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Fifty Six

Gary Robertson lay in bed, sleep an impossibility. Should they give in? He knew it was being considered. Should they fight back? But any attack would almost certainly end badly. Sharibvdl would be alerted and he would kill Jonathan right away. Perhaps he already had … With someone like Sharibvdl, you could depend on nothing. Either way, they could be sure that further demands would be made sooner or later. Xurog had offered various types of raid on the prison – from good, old-fashioned commando-type rescue, to subtle attacks involving gas clouds or paralysing radiation fields. Then word had come from the Patrician himself – desperate for news of his own daughter – that he was prepared to capitulate to Sharibvdl. Every fibre of Gary’s being wanted to say Yes! Yes! Yes! Try it all. Anything to save my son. But another voice was saying This is not what he wanted. Think of what he said. DON’T GIVE IN TO THEM. PLEASE! That was his wish. If it was you, you’d feel exactly the same way. Yield nothing to that rat Sharibvdl. Besides, there was a chance – just a chance – that Jonathan would find some way out of it. Gary knew his son – knew that he was as tough and stubborn and resourceful as he was himself. That had not always made for an easy relationship. But beneath it there was a bond of iron between them. That was what made it so very, very hard …

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* The screen showed Sharibvdl in the prison control room, as before. ‘You do not have long, Dr Robertson. Or should I say, your son does not have long. About five minutes, in fact … as you see.’ Beside Sharibvdl a large, black screen had been set up. On it, a circle of white light was gradually shrinking in size – each second filling less of the screen. Each second growing a little smaller. ‘It does seem such a pity. He is very young. So much unfulfilled potential, don’t you think?’ Gary’s face was drained of all colour. He sat with Xurog, Zert and Awg. Although it was difficult to detect Spyridi emotions, Awg could sense that they were running dangerously high. The circle of light now occupied only half the screen. It was too late now for any rescue attempt or pre-emptive strike, all of which Gary had refused, and the last seconds of his son’s life were now ticking away. The screen now showed only a point of light, becoming smaller and fainter as they watched. ‘I’m afraid it is nearly time.’ Sharibvdl sat there like some obscenely poisonous toad. ‘One last chance to influence your friends, Dr Robertson … ’ The silence rang out. ‘No? ‘Too bad.’ The final, pinpoint glimmer faded from the screen, leaving it completely dark. They heard the sharp click as the circuit closed to release its killing charge. Gary Robertson’s anguished cry froze their hearts. *

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Then in total silence the door of the control room opened and a figure entered. Dressed in a black gown and hood, it carried a scythe over one shoulder. One hand was gripped around the shaft of the scythe. Where the other hand should have been was a blood-soaked stump, its bandages wound around the shaft to hold and steady it. It took Robo nine paces to reach Sharibvdl, who had shown no reaction to Gary’s sob of despair. At the third pace, Sharibvdl began to register shock. By the sixth step, his expression had become one of the utmost horror. At the ninth pace, the figure threw back its hood to reveal a pale and implacable face, a face with death written on it. Sharibvdl became rigid with terror. All his cheating, cruelty and killings were reflected back at him from those steel-grey eyes. Robo swung the scythe with all his strength. * Those clustered around the screen in Gexadkydubm looked on in horror at Robo’s haggard face and the wreck of Sharibvdl. Nothing would ever be the same again.

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Fifty Seven

It was the first time Awg had been to Gexadkydubm Central Hospital. He was directed to a room in the post-operative wing. Awg was almost afraid to go in. He’d knocked once and there had been no answer. He knocked again, then operated the control. The door slid open soundlessly, then shut behind him. Robo was sitting up in bed, his right arm enclosed in a cocoon of what looked like blue plastic foam. A web of tubes and wires led to a cabinet by his bedside. There was an awkward silence, then a quiet voice. ‘Hi … ’ ‘Hi. How’s your arm?’ ‘Dunno. Can’t feel it.’ The tone was subdued, almost unconcerned. ‘Can they save the hand?’ ‘Fifty-fifty. They say that packing it in those leaves has given it a chance. But it was pretty gross by the time they got it, and this Sabqveli technology* can only do so much. Actually, they offered me a new hand – but I said no.’ ‘A new hand?’ ‘Yeah. It would be, like, regenerated from the rest of me. But I didn’t fancy it. Rather stick with the one I was born with, even if it’s a bit of a wreck. Keep it there to remind me of … what I did.’ There was another awkward silence. Longer, this time. ‘Awg – I’m not a monster!’ ‘No one’s said you were!’ *

see Book II, Chapter 38

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‘No, but it’s what they’re thinking. I waited, you know. I waited outside the door to see if he’d do it. I couldn’t believe he’d just let the thing roll on and kill me. When he did, all I could think of was Dad. Oh God … ’ It was some time before he could continue. ‘Is that why you did it?’ said Awg, gently. ‘That was part of it. And all the lives ruined, the people poisoned by the water – all those things. But there was something else.’ Awg waited. ‘When I first got to the prison, I met an old man in the garden. He was a lovely old man. All he had in the world was his garden. He’d been there so long that he’d lost everything else, including most of his marbles. He was a beautiful, harmless old man.’ He paused again. ‘After Sharibvdl arrived, lots of things changed. He’d got some sort of hold over the zwnerbas that made them vicious, which is against their nature. And the native Zeroians were obviously scared out of their wits. Anyway, the old man disappeared. ‘After I’d … you know, my hand – I found him. Round behind the wall, where he’d made a little sanctuary for all his friends who’d died. That’s where Sharibvdl’s lot had dumped him. He must’ve got in their way somehow. They’d cut his throat.’

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Fifty Eight

Now it could be seen by everyone. A bright, hazy patch in the middle of the chain of stars that people called Arcana’s Necklace. You didn’t need a telescope, just your own eye(s). And it was getting bigger and brighter all the time – a growing scar upon the heavens. Questions were asked. A public announcement by eminent Spyridi scientists was confidently expected. Surely the Patrician would say something … Before very long, it could be seen by daylight. In the population at large, curiosity began to give way to panic. Among the zwnerbas, there was talk about the end of the world. * With Sharibvdl dead, the Zeroian authorities were faced with the task of exposing and dismantling his villainous empire. The extent of this was going to give them a massive headache. The official crime rate was minimal, so there had been little need for the civil guard, and very few remained. But during this time the black economy had flourished and corruption had permeated all levels of the population – a measure of the Patrician’s failure and Sharibvdl’s success. The existing police numbers and structure were utterly inadequate to deal with the problem. In fact, with the civil administration way out of its depth, the Zeroian leader a withered husk and his successor missing, the entire system of

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government was in disarray. The one hope that the authorities had for dealing with the problem lay in the new situation brought about by the reformed auto-policing system. Since the switchover, all of Sharibvdl’s accomplices were believed to be in custody and could therefore be interrogated. However, since they had all been sent to random prison locations, the first step was to identify them. Many people had ended up in custody, and all of course protested their innocence, claiming mistaken identity or some other error associated with the switchover process. There was some definite evidence. All the beings arrested in the raid on Morvkd* were clearly prime suspects, as were those identified in the original water theft scandal**. The implant clinic in Gexadkydubm had also been fully cooperative in identifying those whom it had – quite innocently – treated. Actually, not quite fully cooperative. There was a mystery. Its Director confessed to having information which she would disclose only to Asa herself, and nothing would deflect her from this stance. So there – for the moment – the matter rested. * Awg and Zert were back at Gexadkydubm Operations HQ in the New City. K1 was spearheading the search for Asa. Zert had been to the latest debriefing. ‘They checked ev’ry prison now, an’ there’s nothin’ ’. ‘No sign of her?’ Awg could see that things were getting desperate. ‘Nothin’. The police’ve had to go through everythin’ ’cos of the Sharibvdl thing. But K1’s double-checked, just in case. There’s no trace o’ Asa.’ ‘Jeez … ’ * see Chapter 33 ** see Book I, Chapters 38, 39. Book II, Chapter 59

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‘Awg – what we gonna do? Boscabuon’s in the sky, Xurog’s makin’ plans – but people’s startin’ to panic an’ all we gets from the Patrician is silence! We gotta get Asa back.’ There was something Awg wanted to say. He’d wanted to say it for a while, but it seemed crazy and even telling Zert was difficult. ‘Zert … You know when we were at the switchover – and I blacked out … and Asa disappeared …’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Why d’you think it was us? There were loads of people there, and most of them felt something – but we were the ones most affected. Why us?’ ‘Pretty obvious – for you, anyway.’ ??? ‘You bin through the plasma transfer system twice recently. Your profile’s in the works an’ on top o’ the pile – so you was the one to get special treatment.’ ‘But Asa?’ ‘Dunno.’ ‘How many times do you think she’s been through the system?’ ‘Zero point zero. Forbidden. Patrician an’ Asa ain’t allowed to use plasma transport.’ ‘Because of the risk?’ ‘Yep.’ ‘So – not only was the ‘unqualified pilot’ thing screwed up, but the system had no record for Asa of any previous transfer addresses?’ ‘Yep again.’ ‘So, if it all went pear-shaped, she could just get lost … ’ * ‘Zert … ’ ‘I’m still listenin’.’ ‘Say someone … something … was set on causing trouble

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here – and used the switchover to get something it wanted – someone it wanted … ‘And by accident I got mixed up in it – just at the edges of what it was doing. That voice in my head was the same as in the black coffin – when I was trying to get home and it was tempting me to go on and on – so it’d have me trapped and I couldn’t ever get back.’ ‘OK,’ replied Zert. ‘So maybe the Ulgor thing picked up the signal an’ was tryin’ to twist it somehow, for its own purposes.’ ‘Zert … ’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘If I hadn’t had your cone, I’d still be inside the black box – or wherever it took me. I’d be lost forever.’ ‘Best not to think about it, then.’ ‘But say someone else was in the same situation – lost in a remote dimension with no means of escape on their own.’ For once, Zert wasn’t making it easy. ‘Sounds possible – but it don’t help much.’ ‘Yes, it might. Listen. Because, in my dream – or whatever it was – I found someone who was lost. I was in the desert, walking towards the Old Fort. In the distance I could see a wandering figure. I tried to catch up, but the closer I got the harder it was to go on – like something was holding us apart. But I struggled on against it and grabbed the person by the hand. We ran into the Old Fort and stood together in the bunker, looking out over the desert. And it was Asa, looking just like she did when she rescued me. ‘Then you woke me up.’ Awg felt embarrassed. Perhaps it meant nothing after all.

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Fifty Nine

No one ever did get to the bottom of Sharibvdl’s business affairs, because the principal suspects became suddenly and permanently unavailable. When the first few bodies were discovered, they were believed to be suicides. It was charitably assumed that the burden of their guilt had pushed them over the edge. But it soon became clear that something far bigger and more widespread had taken place. Post mortem examinations showed that they had all died the same way. An extremely powerful cardiac poison had stilled their hearts. The source was quickly found to be the Sharibvdl implant, which all were found to possess. The protection it had once offered concealed a far more deadly control over the lives of its recipients. Every known and suspected accomplice, together with some as yet only remotely implicated, were found lifeless on the same day. With their deaths went any substantial hope of unravelling the tangled complexity of Sharibvdl’s criminal empire. To Xurog, that was irrelevant. It was the deaths that mattered. It meant that the Sharibvdl diversion was no longer necessary. It signalled that Ulgor was ready. There was not much time left. * It took Awg a while to pluck up enough courage to go and see K1. Blabbing on about dreams and visions didn’t seem very appropriate in the current desperate circumstances.

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But K1 listened to what Awg had to say. He sent a unit to search the Old Fort. There were no other leads, so he had nothing to lose. The same day, K1 had another unexpected visitor: Vecju, the old zwnerba from the Patrician’s palace. A few minutes later, they left together in an urgent dash to see Xurog. * Back at Operations HQ, K1 awaited news. Late in the night, on the most secure messaging screen, Xurog came through. ‘It is as we thought.’ ‘An implant?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Can they estimate how long it’s been there?’ ‘They are saying ‘several years’.’ ‘The start of his decline?’ ‘It would seem so.’ K1 needed a long time to think this through, but he did not get it. Only a few minutes after his discussion with Xurog, the mission from the Old Fort reported back. They were on their way home. They had found Asa.

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Sixty

The next morning, Awg awoke early. He disliked his cell-like room in the New City HQ and never slept well. There were very few people about, and an eerie silence pervaded the complex. He found Zert in the bare and uncomfortable mess room, where a spartan breakfast was usually available. ‘Hi. Where is everybody?’ ‘Out.’ Zert was not his usual ebullient self. A pricking coldness inched up Awg’s spine. ‘What’s happened?’ ‘A lot. K1 wants to see you soon as you’re ready.’ ‘Have they found Asa?’ ‘K1 wants to see you soon as you’re ready.’ * Awg hammered along to K1’s office. His insides felt like ice, but he was sweating. The security check seemed to take forever. At last he was allowed in. K1 appeared even greyer and more careworn than usual, but he made the effort to greet Awg warmly. ‘It seems that your dream, or vision, or whatever it might have been, was correct.’ ‘You’ve really found Asa? It’s true, then?’ ‘Yes, we have found her … and she very much wishes to see you.’ Awg was alarmed by the sadness in his voice.

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‘Is she alright? She’s not injured, is she?’ ‘She has no physical injury. But she has been through a terrible ordeal – as you will see.’ K1 led Awg along the corridor to a room at the end and opened the door for him. ‘Go in.’ ‘But … ’ ‘Just go in. She’s expecting you.’ * ‘Asa … ?’ ‘Yes, Awg. It is me.’ Awg stared, rooted to the spot. Gone was the graceful, arrestingly beautiful girl he remembered so well and had seen only a few days before. In her place lay a figure transformed: a body seemingly shrunken, the wizened face bearing a deadly grey pallor. It was as if Asa had been replaced by a wax model. ‘W-W-What happened?’ ‘You should know – you of all people. You suffered part of the same fate yourself.’ ‘The black coffin? – the time bubbles … ’ ‘Yes. I was captured, as you were. But unlike you I had no means of escape, no way of breaking out.’ ‘No Zert’s cone to help you. It’s just what I thought … ’ ‘I was imprisoned in a void where there was no light, no sound, no time; alone in the darkness, seemingly for ever. But an Idea came into my mind. It spoke to me.’ ‘Like … like a voice in your head, telling you things, and offering things?’ said Awg. ‘Yes. It told me lies. And offered me power, if I betrayed my people. But I fought it. I wrestled with its mind, as it grappled with mine. We struggled in the darkness, and I unceasingly defied it.’ She paused, shuddering as she remembered.

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‘I could feel its pain as it battled to hold me against my will. But suddenly it weakened, and I tore myself away. The darkness dispersed and the light of the real world returned – but in a place far from Gexadkydubm.’ ‘In my dream,’ said Awg, ‘I seemed to find you wandering in the desert, and I took you to the Old Fort because I knew we would be safe there. That’s the thing I most remember – that I had to take you to somewhere where you would be out of danger. It was all so vivid that I told K1.’ ‘It was fortunate for me that you did. No one had used the bunker for months – so there were no supplies, no water, and of course no means of communication. I was exhausted and would have had little chance of survival.’ Awg took a chair and sat down beside Asa’s bed. ‘I don’t know exactly what happened to me that day at Central Control,’ he said, ‘but it was more than a dream. Afterwards, it was hard talking about it, especially to someone as stressed as K1.’ ‘Zert thinks that Ulgor used you as a portal to enter the auto-transfer system and trap me. But we struggled, and it wasn’t powerful enough to hold us both. And now I shall get strong again, and vanquish this enemy. We must fight back!’ Asa leant over and punched his side in the way he remembered from their first helicar journey together, and Awg rejoiced that the fiery spirit he knew so well still shone in her face. She sat up and gripped his hand. ‘I am afraid there is more to tell you – and it is best to come from me. It seems that our lives are strangely bound together.’ ‘I’ve already heard about Sharibvdl’s lot – how they’re all dead.’ ‘Yes, but there was another loss which is not known to you. Awg, I am now the Patrician.’ ‘Your father … ’ ‘Yes. He has also passed on. It seems to have been very peaceful. Old Vecju found him. But they have discovered

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already that it was not a natural death. He was killed by the same means as the others.’ ‘He had an implant?’ ‘Apparently so. I know he felt he was getting old and losing his authority, and I think that Sharibvdl offered him a remedy – a rejuvenation. I understand now something he told me about being indebted to Sharibvdl. He once said Through him, I have been able to see many things in a new light. I never understood what he could have meant.’ ‘And you’re sure about this?’ ‘The woman who runs the implant clinic has told me that my father came secretly for treatment. This was the start of his bitter opposition to change. No wonder he resisted any investigation of Sharibvdl! We put it down to the infirmity of old age, and did not suspect anything more sinister.’ ‘Do you mean that his behaviour was being controlled?’ ‘Yes. It is a terrible thing, but I believe the long arm of Ulgor had reached into our very midst – to our Leader himself.’

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Sixty One

The Zeroian Galactic Council met in virtual session, and the prospect of approaching annihilation produced a remarkable unanimity of purpose. Old space-time boundary disputes, cosmic turf wars and squabbles over the fabulous mineral wealth of distant planets were forgotten. Or if not actually forgotten, then discreetly swept under the intergalactic carpet. There was not actually a lot of point in fighting over future piles of ash. The delegates were of one mind that something had to be done, and rapidly reached a unanimous decision. The acting chairbeing was delighted that such decisive action had been agreed after only three days of discussion. They had nominated a sub-committee to deal with the problem. * The Scientific Sub-Committee of the Zeroian Galactic Council met in virtual session. Each delegate had for some time been studying a different aspect of the Boscabuon problem. The conclusions were not encouraging. Zert had borrowed a copy of the meeting report, and was playing it over for Awg’s benefit. ‘Is it the same lot we saw at the switchover?’ asked Awg, as the screencube illuminated the various contributors. ‘Nah. They were from the Council itself. This is a group o’ the chief scientists.’ ‘Like Xurog, for the Zeroians.’

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‘Yeah, like that.’ The camera moved round. ‘Ugh! That’s just gross.’ ‘Oh, that one’s from Bandjilgh. What don’tcha like? All them tentacles, maybe?’ ‘The transparency.’ ‘You mean the way youc’n see all the internal organs. Yeah – must make medical diagnosis a heap easier, though.’ ‘Has Gary watched this?’ asked Awg. ‘He’s in it – invited as honorary rep for Earth’s Universe.’ Awg wondered where Robo was. He hadn’t seen him since his visit to Gexadkydubm hospital. ‘Zert – why didn’t Robo get auto-extradited? I mean, he did actually kill someone, so it must have counted as a crime. But nothing happened.’ ‘Sev’ral reasons – like, Robo’s an alien, an’ also the system’s confused by him being auto-extradited from Qun in the first place. But mainly ’cos it couldn’ send him to prison ’cos he was there already.’ ‘So, what’ll happen to him?’ ‘When he’s fully recovered there’ll be some sort o’ trial. But my guess is it’ll be up to Asa in the end – Presidential decision. Don’t envy her. Tricky case.’ ‘Zert … how is she, now?’ ‘Asa? You know when’ya saw her – how weak an’ ill she was? Well, they made her stay quiet for three days on a special revitalisin’ diet, which apparently wouldn’tve ’xactly won any taste awards. The next day they knew she was getting better ’cos she got up an’ threw it at ’em.’ ‘Asa told me you thought Ulgor got at her through me.’ ‘Yeah. I figured it needed a way into the system. Good thing it chose you, though, ’cos in the end you was strong enough to bust Asa out.’ ‘No, I think I just gave it a poke in the eye at the right time. You can see from Asa’s face she was the one who did all the busting – but why d’you think she landed up at the Old Fort?’

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‘I guess the system was origin’ly tryin’ for Tukzadryk ’cos o’ the ‘unqualified pilot’ thing, an’ that was as near as it got.’ * Awg watched the screen as the delegates presented their reports. There were a lot of things he couldn’t follow, although Zert tried his best to explain. However, one report was easy to understand and very puzzling. The Wybekn people had carried out a complete scan of the planets in the Boscabuon galaxy, and found that they were all lifeless. No recognisable life form could be detected on any of them. Finally, Xurog undertook a summing up of all that had been reported. It did not take long. The stark message was that the approaching galaxy would collide destructively with their own, and there was no practical way of stopping it.

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Sixty Two

Asa stared into the mirror. The New Patrician stared back at her with an intense and cold fury. Asa hardly recognised the person she saw. I am myself, and I am not myself. Ulgor had failed to break her spirit, and, rather than weakening her resolve, had given it the strength of steel. Her Command Rooms at Auyvhasdh had been enlarged. For the present emergency she intended to live there, and not in the palace at Gexadkydubm. However, one thing from her father’s residence had come with her. At her request, on the wall above her desk the workmen had inscribed: I swear To dedicate my life to the service of Zero and its Galaxy to strive for truth and fairness in all my actions to uphold the Rule of Law without fear or favour and to seek no personal reward She had known the lines by heart since childhood, but only recently had sworn the Oath of Office herself. It was important that the words were here, as a constant reminder to all who came and went. This is what she had promised. *

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Zero and its Galaxy were under threat and she would defend them. She would not accept that nothing could be done. Asa summoned Xurog. ‘Why can’t we destroy it – blast it to pieces?’ ‘Destroy something the size of a galaxy? Impossible! And even if we could, there is no point. The debris would have the same mass as the original and would pose the same threat.’ ‘But at least there would then be no guiding force.’ ‘Possibly. But even that is uncertain. We have no idea where this intelligence is located. No life forms could be detected.’ ‘Then can we not change its path – deflect it away from us? Surely we could use a plasma transfer system – in the same way that the old plasma weapons worked by changing an object’s position? I once had a plasma cannon used against me, if you remember.’ ‘Yes – all that is true. But the amount of energy necessary is totally beyond us. Even to displace a single planet would take all our resources.’ ‘Then I will go myself – with those of my troops who will volunteer to accompany me. We will take the Silver Star and search until Ulgor is found – and in some way eliminated.’ * The news did not take long to reach Zert. ‘It’s no good. Even if she finds this ‘Ulgor’, how’ll she stop th’approach o’ the galaxy. You’ve heard what Xurog said. But she’s not gonna find it, ’cos there’s no life on the planets. That’s gotta mean it’s dispersed – spread out across space some way. Maybe Ulgor’s just a cloud o’ vapour.’ ‘A gaseous life form?’ queried Awg. ‘Could be.’ ‘D’you know of any?’ ‘P’raps this is the first.’ ‘No.’ Awg had a gut feeling, which he had learnt to trust. ‘I think Asa’s right on this one. There is some sort of centre. The

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Ulgor thing’s got to me three times now, and there’s something really weird about it – it feels sort of dark and closed in.’ ‘Like the place you was in when that black rain come down?’ ‘Yeah. I think I was very near its heart, then.’ He shivered as the memory flooded back. Then a thought struck him. A very daunting, unwelcome thought. ‘Perhaps I could go back … ’ ‘Go back? Into that black box – the thing under the museum? The blue glow an’ the zillion volts?’ There was a horrified silence. ‘Well, I could try … Perhaps it’s a way in – a way of getting at Ulgor. It’s not far away. We could get to Chykideyh in a few hours.’ ‘Yeah. We could. But we’re not gonna. You only jus’ got out last time. An’ then you was an unknown, which is why Xurog sent you in – ’cos he reckoned an undefined life-form could make it. But it’ll have wised up on you now. I bet as soon as it got so much as a sniff of you ’round that entry port – Zap! you’d be cinders.’ ‘OK. Point taken.’ There was more than a hint of relief in Awg’s voice. At least that was one peril he didn’t have to face. ‘But we’ve got to do something to help Asa. When’s she going to leave?’ ‘Not for a while. They gotta finish gettin’ the ship ready first.’ ‘What ship?’ ‘How d’ya think they’re gettin’ there?’ ‘By plasma transport of course. Asa’ll break the rule and use it – because she’s got to.’ ‘Nah! Think about it. First, the system’s still under siege. They got the local stuff back – like the auto-extradition. But long distance is out. An’ anyway, it’d still be out ’cos there’s no way o’ settin’ the destination. You can’t just say take me to this site an’ by the way it’s a whole galaxy an’ by the way it’s prob’ly just a small bit of it an’ we don’ ’xactly know where.’ ‘So?’

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‘So it’s gotta be done th’old-fashioned way. That’s why they’re gettin’ the Silver Star ready.’ ‘Is that a – spaceship? Like in Star Trek and stuff like that?’ Awg had always been secretly disappointed in Zero’s transport facilities. Plasma Transfer was utterly amazing, but extremely scary – and decidedly unromantic. The only other thing he’d seen had been the helicars, which (although great fun to fly) were about as technically advanced as a Ford Anglia. Now at last here was something that sounded really exciting. ‘Dunno ’bout any ‘start wreck’,’ said Zert, ‘but Silver Star’s the very last ship they built ’fore plasma transport made the technology redundant. It cost so much nobody’d sanction actually scrappin’ it. So they kept it mothballed, out in the desert – not that far from Tukzadryk as a matter o’ fact. I did wonder … if you’d like to go out an’ take a look?’ Awg was wild with delight – until the likely reality cut in. He shrugged. ‘They’d never allow it. Security, and all that.’ ‘So – we won’t ask ’em. Get your stuff, an’ meet me up on the street soon as you’re ready.’

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Sixty Three

Awg gathered his few remaining possessions together and began to pack his rucksack, by now getting to look very shabby and worn. In fact, when Awg caught sight of his own reflection in a glass door, he realised that he himself looked well past his sell-by date. His clothes were dirty and torn and he had not had anything even roughly describable as a wash for weeks. Too much else had been happening, he told himself. Even so, looking like a street casualty didn’t do a lot for his morale. Apart from his watch, he only had one valuable item left. He took it out of his locker, where it had been rolled up in the last remaining tee shirt. Out of respect for Benedict, Awg had not worn the shirt at all but had kept it clean just for this. Awg used the fabric to rub down the wooden frame and polish the glass. Inside, the blackened sand bore witness to their present predicament and the approach of Ulgor. Awg packed the hourglass safely away, swung the bag over his shoulder and went up into the street. No one stopped him or questioned his movements. Zert was already there, and Awg was surprised to find a helicar waiting. They climbed in and were taken across the bridge, through the old city and up into the northern suburbs. ‘Where are we going?’ Awg asked. ‘Jus’ thought you might like to see some ol’ friends,’ replied Zert. They drew up outside a large and beautiful villa which Awg immediately recognised as the Town House where civic guests were lodged and in which he himself had once stayed.

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Zert took him inside and led him across the lobby. Awg took one look at the zwnerba on duty and gasped in astonishment. ‘You got your job back!’ ‘Yes, Mr Awg, and I am overjoyed to see you. But once again we find ourselves in troubled times.’ Awg had last met the zwnerba on Morvkd, Zero’s poisonous moon, when they were both trying to escape from Sharibvdl’s lunar headquarters. ‘Mr Zert has arranged for you to use your old room for the morning. He thought you might like to smarten up before you see your friends.’ Zert himself had disappeared, so Awg made his way along to the room he had occupied on his first visit the city. It seemed an age ago. Everything was as he remembered it, even to the tiny fountain in the courtyard outside the window, in which real water flowed (even if, as he now suspected, it was recirculated. No water ran to waste on planet Zero.) He used the strange, but by now familiar, cleaning procedure with spray can and cloth, and returned himself to something like the ungrimed and (reasonably) sweet-smelling being that would be welcome in polite company. To his further amazement and delight, he found that two sets of new (and acceptably cool) clothing had been laid out for him. No pantaloons this time. Definitely. A bleep announced someone at the door. ‘You ready?’ asked Zert. ‘Yep.’ Zert led the way to a room on the top floor. ‘You go in.’ ‘What about you?’ ‘It’s OK. I said my piece earlier. You go see your friends.’ Inside, he found Gary and Robo. ‘Hello Dr Robertson.’ ‘Hello Awg.’ ‘Hi Jonathan.’

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‘Hi Awg.’ ‘How’s the hand?’ Robo extended his right arm. ‘Have a look.’ The skin had healed well, but the jagged scar of the amputation was still very clear, and the hand itself was uncomfortably out of shape. ‘I’ve got feeling and movement in the thumb and first two fingers – but there’s not much life in the rest at the moment. They say it may improve. Lucky I’m left handed, isn’t it?’ Awg was ashamed that he’d never noticed. ‘Are you here to recover?’ ‘Yeah – sort of. They’ve stuck us here until they decide what to do with me.’ Gary Robertson winced. He seemed overwhelmed, and clearly had not come to terms with what had happened. Robo withdrew his hand, ran his fingers through his hair and glanced at his father. ‘I’m afraid Dad’s not sure he wants an axe murderer for a son. Maybe you should tell him a bit about the things you saw when the water was poisoned.’ Dr Robertson said nothing, and Awg was horrified to see that there were tears in his eyes. Robo himself looked desperately unhappy. ‘We’ll be OK,’ he said. ‘Just give us time. It’s you we should be thinking about.’ His words seemed to galvanise Gary. He walked over to Awg and folded him in his arms. ‘Good Luck,’ he said. ‘Yeah. Good Luck!’ said Robo.

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Sixty Four

‘What the hell was all that about?’ said Awg, once they were outside. ‘All the “Good Luck” stuff.’ ‘Oh, I ’spec they was jus’ glad to see you an’ say hi,’ replied Zert, unconvincingly. The helicar clattered back across the bridge and headed south towards the freight terminal. Two zwnerbas were waiting for them. ‘You remembers Perunu an’ Zrcabzk?’ said Zert. ‘Of course,’ replied Awg. They were the friends of Jebku who had met them after their ill-fated flight from Auyvhasdh. An elderly but smartly painted helicraft was standing fuelled and ready. Awg hardly recognised it, although he guessed it must be their own old plane. ‘What have you done to it?’ he asked, gazing admiringly. ‘It has been … tidied up a little,’ said Zrcabzk. ‘And the mechanics checked over,’ added Perunu. ‘We worked on it after our regular shift each day as a tribute to Jebku. We knew he would have wanted to give you a good send-off.’ ‘Well, thank you,’ said Awg. ‘Thank you … ’ ‘OK. Let’s get going,’ said Zert, before Awg could question exactly what they meant. They climbed aboard. There was no one in the pilot’s seat. ‘Me?’ asked Awg. ‘O’ course. They’ve set a beam for Dor Veraktz on the autopilot but youc’n fly it on manual, like before.’ Like before, thought Awg. But then I had Jebku near by. And before that, there was Asa. This time, I’m really on my own.

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‘Dor Veraktz,’ he said. ‘That where the Silver Star is?’ ‘Yeah, that’s right.’ Dor Veraktz. Awg rolled the words around in his mind, searching for the phrases Zert had taught him. ‘Dor Veraktz … that means “jumping-off place” doesn’t it?’ ‘Good! You’re gettin’ better. It was a huge place once. Space Operations HQ. Used to be ships dockin’ in an’ leavin’ all day – ’fore my time, o’ course. Not so much left now – a few o’ the buildings an’ hangars, an’ the main launch ramp.’ The radio system bleeped, signalling that they were cleared for takeoff. Awg checked everything over as he had been taught. Fuel. Power controls. Hydrogen pressure. Ignition. The engine roared into life. Warm up. Awg throttled up the engine. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’ ‘Um … aren’t you forgettin’ somethin’?’ said Zert. ‘Whaddya mean? I’ve done all the checks.’ ‘Might be a good plan to close the main door though.’ Awg blushed to the roots of his hair. He was about to unstrap himself when one of the zwnerbas poked his head inside the cabin. He was obviously very amused. ‘We wondered when you’d notice.’ He slid the door closed and clicked the lock. They were off. * Although their course was north-easterly, they made one circle over the Old City. Once in the air, Awg felt at ease and handled the controls with complete confidence. Zert had his communicator with him as a back-up, but he knew he wasn’t going to need it. Their circle took them directly over the Patrician’s palace. ‘Wonder if Asa’ll ever live there,’ said Awg. ‘I mean, if it’s not all turned into toast. She’s not a very ‘palace’ person, is she?’

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‘No point in wonderin’. She got a war to fight ’fore then.’ ‘What’s her plan – and who’s she going to take with her?’ ‘Her plan’s to hunt for Ulgor. Don’t think she got a clue how. She feels it’s her duty to do somethin’. An’ she’s gonna take K2 an’ four of his team.’ ‘What are they going to do?’ ‘It’s sort o’ ‘details to be inserted later’. ’ ‘You don’t sound very convinced.’ ‘You could say that.’ ‘What about K1?’ ‘He’s bein’ made to stay behind – an’ you can guess how happy he is ’bout that. The idea is someone in authority’s gotta be here in case Asa don’t come back. O’course, if that happens, he’s prob’ly not goin’ to be in charge very long before there ain’t anythin’ to be in charge of.’ Through the transparent dome of the helicraft, Awg looked down upon the city of Gexadkydubm: the Old and the New, the stepped black pyramids, the bridge spanning the river that once had been. ‘It’s weird to think of all those people going about their business as usual,’ he said. ‘Going out to get food. Doing their everyday things. Planning for the future. Except there probably isn’t going to be one.’ ‘They can’t do much else, can they?’ retorted Zert. ‘It’ll be the same with your folks on Earth. Runnin’ round like ants an’ thinkin’ it’s all gonna go on for ever.’ For Awg, the cabin seemed suddenly to have grown very cold. * Nagging at the back of Awg’s mind was the fate of Jebku’s helicraft. The flash of light, the spurt of smoke, the deadly spiral to the ground. No one had said anything about the sphere that had brought it down. There was supposed to be a ring of them around the city now – a ring he was bound to cross. Zert didn’t

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seem to be the least bit concerned and it was not the sort of thing he would forget. ‘Zert … ’ ‘You’re gonna ask ’bout the spheres. Bit late.’ ‘But can you see any?’ Awg asked anxiously, knowing that to himself they would be invisible. ‘Don’t worry. They’re gone.’ ‘How?’ ‘You know how K1 said it was almost like they’d grown into position?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Well, we dunno how Ulgor got ’em there, but it turned out he was right. Plant-like organisms* with some very specialised cells. An’ that was how they dealt with ’em.’ ‘You mean they sprayed them with weedkiller.’ ‘Not ’xactly,’ said Zert, ‘but if you substitutes ‘bio-engineered broad spectrum antimetabolite’ for ‘weedkiller’ you got the gen’ral idea. They got shrivelled.’ ‘So – we’re OK?’ ‘We’re OK. Trust me.’ * They flew over the remnants of desiccated jungle to the east of the city. Once, the great river had fed a swathe of dense vegetation for miles on each side. Now, a few green patches to the south were all that remained beside its waterless bed, sustained by the same subterranean springs that fed Gexadkydubm’s aqueduct, deep underground. There followed mile upon mile of rough *

The highly specialised macrofungi of the genus siderovoliphilis are believed to have evolved from primitive insectivorous species, following the development of passenger air travel. Metal-sensitive sections of their structure detect vehicles passing overhead and trigger the action of deadly, laser-like stinging cells. After the aircraft have been brought down, acidic secretions dissolve their superstructure and the fungi then digest the animal contents.

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grassland, a wilderness that gradually thinned away into the ochre-coloured vastness of the eastern desert. ‘Where’s Tukzadryk,’ asked Awg as they flew on, ‘and the Old Fort?’ ‘They’re south o’ here,’ answered Zert, who always knew exactly where he was. ‘I thought from what you said we might see them on our way.’ ‘No, they’re a fair way off. Desert’s a big place.’ ‘We’ve been in the air four hours, now. The auto-pilot says we should be nearly there.’ A smudge on the horizon resolved itself into a cleared area dotted with buildings. And that was when Awg had his first glimpse of the Silver Star. It took his breath away. ‘Last in a long line,’ said Zert. ‘The ultimate design.’ Awg had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. ‘It’s like – like a silver cloud.’ ‘Yeah. The whole structure’s semi-fluid. The shape changes, dependin’ on the environment it’s flyin’ through. For take-off, it’ll be like a long cylinder.’ Awg checked in with the control tower and came in to land. A small crowd had gathered to greet them. At the time, Awg didn’t think anything of it.

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Sixty Five

Awg recognised several of the Zeroians from K2’s team that he’d worked with during the water poisoning in Vydarjn Square. These would be the ones Zert had spoken about, the unit which would accompany Asa on her mission. The two friends left the landing area and made their way across to the largest of the Terminal buildings. ‘You seem to know your way around,’ said Awg, struggling to catch up as Zert clicked rapidly along the corridors. Zert at speed took some keeping up with. Everyone seemed to know him. ‘I come here a while back to do a job for Xurog,’ returned Zert, opening a door into a large series of rooms. ‘This all right for you?’ (It was in fact the Presidential Suite, an interesting survival from the glory days of Space Operations HQ.) ‘I didn’t realise we’d be staying,’ said Awg, gazing round at the palatial space. ‘I thought it was a just going to be a quick visit.’ ‘Thought you’d like a look ’round while you’re here,’ said Zert. They spent the rest of the day exploring the site, finally walking the half mile or so to the launch ramp. ‘D’you want to go over the ship?’ asked Zert, casually. ‘But surely they won’t let us near it.’ ‘Sure they will. Come on.’ The Silver Star was very much larger than it had looked from the air. No one stopped them as they joined the throng of technicians entering and leaving the ship. Awg was spellbound. This was what he’s imagined interstellar travel ought to be like: a gleaming spacecraft stacked with impressive gadgetry.

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He learned that the ship was in three sections, although the modules were not fitted together in a rigid way. The pilot capsule contained the main control cabin and most of the instrumentation. The auxiliary section contained the life support and recycling systems (the ship had been built for very long voyages). In the same section were two landing pods and a laboratory containing a library of reference tissue samples from representatives of all known life forms. This gave you a chance of recognising any material you came across which might be living, and identifying its hazards, if known.* Zert pointed out one sample in particular. ‘Know what this is?’ Sealed inside were globs of pale-coloured jelly and lumps of black stuff with veins of white running through them. ‘You remembers that black pool on Morvkd where Sharibvdl was talkin’ to the jelly blob?’ Awg nodded. It was a horror he could never forget. ‘Well, that’s some o’ the gunk that come floatin’ up when Asa’s lot bombed it afterwards. So folks’ve got that to work on if they comes ’cross the same sort o’ thing again.’ The remaining section of the Silver Star contained single-use food reserves, equipment and tools, and a storage area. Zert seemed to know everything about the ship and answered Awg’s avalanche of questions without a murmur. How the launch ramp worked. The way propulsion units were distributed throughout the ship. The different power sources. ‘Yeah. Main source is sealed, an’ it’ll last practic’ly for ever. An’ as long as any cosmic radiation’s fallin’ on the ship, the other sources are rechargin’.’ They made their way back up to the main cabin. No one seemed to question their presence. A technical crew were still working in the rear portion, but the flight deck was empty. Awg sat at the controls and gazed at the mind-boggling array *

If it shot at you first, you were advised to go straight to the quick reference index

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of equipment. He wondered what everything did, and secretly longed to find out. ‘When will it all be ready?’ he asked. Zert shrugged. ‘Oh, it’s ready now – very nearly, anyway.’ ‘So, what are they waiting for?’ ‘Asa.’ ‘Isn’t she here?’ ‘She’s still in Gexadkydubm tryin’ to sort out the mess Sharibvdl left. There’s so much legal stuff to do, an’ she gotta OK the decisions. She’s the Patrician now, don’ forget, even though they ha’n’t bin through all the ceremonial stuff.’ ‘But it doesn’t matter! None of that stuff matters! It’s all going up in smoke.’ ‘Yeah, but most of ’em can’t see that. It’s somethin’ vague, an’ in the future. All theyc’n see is they need Asa now.’ Awg was silent for a moment. Then he said, ‘It’s no good, is it? It won’t work. It’s no good counting on Asa. Whatever happens, she’s needed here on Zero. Whatever happens. She shouldn’t be going on this mission. It’s wrong.’ ‘She could be stopped.’ In the co-pilot’s seat, Zert swivelled around to face Awg. ‘She don’t have to go. The troops don’t have to go – there’s just about zero chance they can do anythin’ useful. Someone could go in their place.’ The two friends stared at each other in a moment of understanding that was to change a great many lives. ‘NO,’ said Awg. ‘Not this time!’ ‘Why not? Third time lucky.’ ‘But this is different. It’s ultrahuge. We’re way, way out of our depth. Light years.’ ‘Wrong. We got experience.’ ‘What in, for chrissake? I don’t seem to remember trashing that many galaxies recently, although it may have slipped my mind.’ ‘Stealin’ ships an’ escapin’. We stowed away on that first helicar. We stole the pan-object from under Xurog’s nose an’

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made off with it. No one’s got more experience in stealin’ stuff an’ runnin’ away than us.’ ‘Asa will be very, very mad at us. And her troops’ll lynch us.’ ‘No they won’t. I talked to K1. He’s dead against her goin’.’ ‘She’ll kill him when she finds out.’ ‘He can take care of himself. An’ after a bit, Asa’ll see it’s for the best.’ ‘What about the ship – the Silver Star?’ ‘They got others. They kept one o’ each class. The Star’s the best, though. She’s a beauty. Still, they’ll get over it. An’ another thing – we got the best possible credentials for this mission.’ ‘Yeah. We’re idiots.’ ‘No, we’re expendable. Look at it like this. Most likely scenario: we end up burnt to a crisp an’ Ulgor carries on like before. Then all they’ve lost is the ship, which is sad but not really desperate. Asa can still send the troops an’ stuff an’ have another whack at it. On th’other hand, if we make even a little bit o’ progress, then it helps the folks what comes along for the second shot.’ ‘OK. But there’s just one tiny detail that I don’t quite get. Who’s going to fly the ship?’ ‘We are – or rather, you are, with a bit o’ help from me.’ ‘NO. NO. Absolutely one hundred percent NO. I can just about fly one of those old helicars, and that’s it. It’s like saying I can jump over a rock so now I’ll jump to Mars.’ ‘It’s mostly automatic. The in-board management system does most of it. Anyway, I got the Manual.’ ‘WHAT?’ ‘There was a book – for pilots – that told you how to fly the Silver Star. I got it in here.’ He tapped his communicator. ‘We can do it. Trust me.’

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Sixty Six

Awg walked back to their lodging. At least, he assumed that was how he got there. Back in their rooms he hadn’t the faintest recollection. He had stumbled along the road in a daze. He paused for a moment at the window and gazed out towards the launch site. The ship was glowing silver under a battery of lights. Awg stretched out on the king-sized bed and stared at the ceiling. Of all the things that had happened to him since the day in Llangarreg when he opened the clock, this was the most bizarre, the most unexpected – and the most frightening. Zert did not get in until very late. ‘Awg – you awake?’ ‘I am now. No – I was anyway. How d’you think I could sleep?’ ‘The latest is – Asa’s scheduled to arrive tomorrow an’ blast off in two days time. So we’re gonna go early morning, first thing. That’s … six hours from now.’ ‘Am I dreaming or is this real?’ ‘When you feels the g-accel’ration you’ll know it’s real ’nough. It’s not all softly-softly like plasma transport. You shouldda had trainin’ but there’s no time. The Star’s got a cushionin’ system but your body’s gonna get whacked just the same.’ ‘We’d better get over there, then.’ ‘Can’t yet. Technicians are still workin’. Tell you when.’

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* ‘Zert … ’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘When we’ve gone, there’s going to be a hell of a fuss – but after it’s died down … what d’you think they’ll do?’ ‘Wait. That’s all they can do. Watch an’ wait. An’ if we makes a difference, then they carries on wi’ their lives. Maybe put up a statue to us. More likely forget all ’bout us.’ ‘Perhaps we’ll be in the Hall of Memory.’ ‘Yeah, that’s a thought. Maybe we will. Weird!’ ‘And if we disappear without trace?’ ‘Then they’ll send a Mk-II expedition – prob’ly K1 an’ some troops, like they were gonna do this time.’ ‘Before we screwed it all up.’ ‘Yeah. Before we screwed it all up.’ * ‘Zert – will you do something for me?’ ‘O’course.’ ‘Leave a message for Asa asking her – if there is some sort of future – to help Robo and his dad get home to Earth.’ Silence. ‘Zert?’ ‘Awg – there’s somethin’ I oughta tell you. Y’know when you went to see Robo an’ his dad?’ ‘Yeah … ’ ‘Well, I’d already told ’em ’bout the Silver Star an’ how I hoped you’d come along with me.’ ‘Bloody Hell! So all that ‘Good Luck’ stuff … ’ ‘Yeah. Silence. ‘An’ Awg … there’ somethin’ else … ’ Awg heard the words, but the room seemed to be swimming in a sea of mist.

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‘You remembers what Robo said about bein’ at the Town House till they decided what was goin’ to happen to him … ’ Awg remembered. ‘Well – he already knew his sentence. He’s exiled from Zero. So, he’s gotta go home. That way Zeroian Law’s satisfied – but it’s what he wanted anyway. The trouble is … his dad can’t decide … ’ There was a bleep from Zert’s communicator. He checked the message. ‘Bring your stuff,’ he said. ‘It’s time.’ * They crept quietly over to the Silver Star. Everything was still a blaze of light but the launch ramp was deserted. There was a quiet hum of machinery, but otherwise not a sound. Outside the entry port, Zert stopped. ‘You go on up,’ he said. ‘You should go first.’ Awg swung his rucksack over his shoulder and walked up the footway. At the top, he paused, turned, and looked back. The Space HQ buildings were dotted with pinpoints of light. Behind them, the vastness of the desert stretched unseen into the darkness. Awg looked up to the constellation of Arcana, where a patch of light, now almost dazzlingly bright, stood out in the night sky. It seemed an impossibly remote enemy. He turned to enter the airlock. But he could not, because the huge figure of Xurog was there already.

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Sixty Seven

Caught in the glare of lights, with the ebony-black spider form towering above him, Awg stared helplessly. He had psyched himself up so much for this moment of committing everything to the Silver Star. And now, Xurog. Probably sent by Asa. The anticlimax was total. ‘You had better have an extremely good reason for being here,’ said Xurog. There was no point in trying to lie. Xurog as good as read your thoughts, anyhow. ‘We were going to steal the ship – and try to … destroy Ulgor,’ said Awg, his hopes crumbling to dust. ‘Don’t you think that is rather absurd?’ ‘Yes, it’s crazy … ’ Awg felt his anger rising. ‘It’s crazy, but someone had to do it. Asa mustn’t go – she’ll be needed here. Whatever happens.’ ‘And you would do this voluntarily, knowing that there is little chance of return. You would dare to take this great ship and set out alone across the void of space on an impossible mission?’ ‘Not alone,’ said Zert quietly, stepping up beside Awg. ‘We’ll go together,’ said Awg. ‘And when I left Earth I knew there wasn’t much chance of getting back.’ Xurog looked down at the two friends. Awg sensed not anger, but sadness. ‘Well, you’re going to need some help,’ he said. *

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They sat together in the cabin of the Silver Star. ‘He told me I warn’t to put any pressure on you,’ said Zert. ‘I could suggest it, but you had to agree o’ your own free will. I knew you would, though.’ ‘Asa cannot be allowed to make this journey herself,’ said Xurog. ‘Her place is on Zero with her people. And what could K2 and his unit add to the mission? This is neither conventional nor guerilla warfare. It is a game of stealth and cunning. Zert volunteered immediately, and I asked him to choose a companion. He chose you – because of your friendship, and because you represent the Earth’s Universe.’ ‘So – all the time – you knew this was going to happen!’ said Awg. ‘No,’ said Xurog. ‘Hoped it was going to happen. But we did set things up, with K1’s agreement. How do you think you walked out of Asa’s Top Security HQ in the New City without the slightest challenge? And were given air clearance to fly here without any formality? Why do you think there were people waiting to see you arrive? And how was it that you were allowed free access to this ship?’ ‘So, were those two zwnerbas at the freight terminal put up to it as well?’ asked Awg in disappointment. ‘I thought they’d done it all for Jebku.’ ‘No. No. Refitting your old helicraft was entirely their own idea. They did it for you as friends. I had no part in it.’ Zert’s communicator bleeped once more. ‘It is time for you to prepare,’ said Xurog. ‘We have made the ship as ready as we can, and I have left gifts from friends who wish to help you. ‘One is from the Wybekn people. They have sent you the means to detect the presence of life-forms, however well hidden. It is a uniquely powerful technology and may prove invaluable. The second gift is from the Nerians. They have given you their Book.’ ‘A book?’ queried Awg, wondering if a bit of in-flight reading was really appropriate.

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‘They call it a book,’ said Xurog, ‘but that is a modest name for such a work. It is a vast database – the most detailed observations of our Universe that have ever been made. It is the accumulated knowledge of a great people.’ Xurog then took them across the cabin to where a new piece of equipment had been installed. At its base a filigree of slender cables disappeared into a frame of intricately-fashioned components and microcircuitry. Above this was a sphere of silver metal. ‘This is my own gift to you,’ said Xurog. ‘You remember the inter-boundary cone which you, Awg, carried into the black void at Chykideyh? That device was based on a brilliant idea of Zert’s – a completely new principle. You will also recall that we used a more advanced version of it to open the pan-object. I have now extended it again, and added a few touches of my own. It may serve you when all other possibilities have been exhausted.’ ‘Could you … ’ As Xurog turned to leave, Awg took off his watch and held it out, ‘… could you give this to Jonathan, please? If he ever gets back to Earth, he might find it useful.’ ‘Yes,’ said Xurog, taking the watch. ‘Yes, he might well. It is a good thought.’ Then he descended the gangway, and was gone. * ‘He wanted to go himself,’ said Zert. ‘The first plan was he would go, alone. But I talked him out of it. They’ll need him, an’ he’s too old anyway.’ Awg sat again at the pilot’s console. He looked around at all the controls, indicators and screens. ‘This is just a joke,’ he said in despair. ‘I don’t know even where to start.’ ‘Luck’ly, you don’ have to. Not yet, anyhow. All we gotta do at the moment is survive takeoff. You’d better getcha suit on, ’cos there’s only an hour to go.’

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Laid out on two of the bunks were rubberised suits – one conventional, the other less so. Awg manoeuvred himself into the humanoid one, the Zeroian fastenings proving particularly tricky to get the hang of. ‘What about you?’ he asked, when the last clip had been slid into position. ‘Uh – I’ll manage.’ Awg looked at the other suit, which looked like a deflated, oversized balloon. Then the penny dropped. ‘You’re going to do that thing where you shrink yourself into a ball!’ ‘OK. OK. Jus’ ’cos you got a body that don’t fold up in a sensible way! Now come on, we both gotta get strapped in.’ Warnings sounded, hatches were closed. The procedures that had routinely controlled thousands of similar launches from Space Operations HQ in the past clicked into action. External power lines fell away. The launch ramp was raised. And, with a precision and grace that would have given her long-dead designers much satisfaction, the Silver Star streaked almost soundlessly into the air. On her way to the Dor Veraktz launch site, but as yet many miles distant, Asa saw its bright passage across the sky. Later, there would be trouble.

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Sixty Eight

Even with the specially designed suits and the Silver Star’s modified escape trajectory, the gravitational pressure on takeoff was horrendous. It was a long time after the main acceleration was over before Awg could leave his bunk and make his way shakily across the cabin. Something felt very odd. He discovered what it was when he tried to pick up a shoe. It slipped from his hand and hit the roof of the cabin before clattering to the floor. ‘Sorry,’ said Zert. ‘Shouldda warned you. There’s artificial gravity, but it’s only about half what you got on Zero. So you needs much less force to move stuff, includin’ yourself.’ ‘How long have you been up?’ said Awg, in amazement. ‘Good while. Told you it’s useful to be nice an’ compact. Best shape for space travel. Space HQ was pleased with our takeoff. Textbook launch, apparently. They was a bit worried about bein’ out of practice.’ ‘So – we’re still in contact with base at the moment?’ ‘O’course. Still under their control, in fact. But we gotta get ready to do stuff ourselves, so your tutorial programme is ’bout to start.’ * Zert meant what he said and, armed with a copy of the Manual, Awg spent all his waking hours on the flight deck. Little by little, the sea of controls and displays began to make sense. By current Zeroian standards the layout and hardware were very

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outdated, but this greater simplicity helped Awg to master the system. Manual controls that you could touch and see were easier to identify than a range of options on a screen, and Awg’s increasing knowledge of Zeroian meant he could now interpret nearly all of the symbols. In fact, some of the simpler pictogram labels were so obvious that it didn’t take a megabrain to work out that they meant up, down, right, left, full, empty … Every so often, Zert came over, shut down the Manual and started asking questions. ‘How many types o’ standard drive has the ship got?’ Four. ‘How d’you identify their controls?’ The propulsion controls are set out in colour-coded arrays, each section corresponding to the type of drive in use. ‘Can you use all of ’em any time?’ No. The magnetic drive can only be used under special conditions. ‘Why?’ If there’s no external field, then it won’t work. If the field’s very strong, it’s too difficult to control. ‘Which is the main drive?’ Ion thrust. ‘An’ what’s special ’bout the one we got on the Star?’ Don’t know, sorry. ‘It’s a heavy ion type, with momentum transfer and ion recovery.’ And that means? ‘It means it’s very powerful but don’t require no fuel component ’cept energy. It don’t get used up. ‘OK. Now here’s somethin’ for you to work out. Use the radio delay to calculate our distance from Zero an’ our average speed so far. Youc’n do it in Earth units, if you want. An’ it needn’t be too exact.’ Awg sent a radio pulse back to Zero Space HQ and waited for the return. It took 20.2 minutes. Awg went through the calculation in his head. That’s there and back – so halving it gives 10.1 minutes.

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Radio signals travel at the speed of light – that’s 186,000 miles per second. So the distance is 10.1 x 60 x 186,000 = 113 million miles Now, we’ve been travelling for eight Earth days, so that’s 113000000 / 8 x 24 = 589,000 miles per hour or 164 miles per second. He took the figures back to Zert, who did his own calculation back to Zeroian units. ‘Yeah, tha’s ’bout right. ’Course, we was much slower at first but now we’ve gradually worked up to the Ion Drive’s maximum speed, which is 1.08 x 10-3c in your ten-based system.’* ‘So the top speed,’ said Awg, ‘is a bit over a thousandth of the speed of light – so about 200 miles a second?’ Zert thought for a moment. ‘Yeah, that’s it.’ ‘And how far away is the Boscabuon galaxy?’ ‘Roughly 746 light years now.’ ‘So at our present rate it’s going to take about 746,000 years to get there.’ ‘Yeah, that’s ’bout it.’ ‘By which time, we’ll both have been dead for around 745,900 years.’ ‘Yeah, if you put it that way. Holy Moly! I wonder why Xurog didn’ think o’ that?’

Zeroians measure the speed of spacecraft relative to the speed of light. The Zeroian scientific symbol for the speed of light looks rather like a Greek letter Ξ. To avoid confusion, the usual Earth symbol c has been substituted.

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Sixty Nine

‘I don’t think that’s funny. What’s all this bullshit about Boscabuon if we’re never going to get there? What the hell are we doing all this for?’ ‘Sorry. Sorry. I’m real sorry. It’s jus’ there’s too much stuff to tell you all at once, an’ I was pullin’ your leg a bit.’ ‘Well, it wasn’t funny.’ ‘I said I’m sorry. An’ I han’t said nothin’ that wasn’t true. It’s jus’ that there’s more. Come an’ look.’ Zert inserted a strangely-shaped key into the propulsion console. The existing displays rolled back to reveal a new set of controls and a large black screen. ‘All you seen so far’s bin the conventional part o’ the ship. All the very latest technology for the time she was built, but all standard stuff. But the Silver Star’s got somethin’ extra, an’ this is it. Look at the screen.’ It showed a picture like a land contour map, or an ocean chart, with many different shades of colour and some small points marked with different symbols. ‘What d’ya think this is?’ ‘Dunno.’ ‘It’s Space – at least, the bit ’round us at the moment.’ ‘But it’s got features – like the highs and lows on land. I thought Space was just a vacuum. Just nothing, with stars and things floating about in it.’ ‘Nah. Space ain’t like that at all. Anyhow, not on a really large scale – which is what you’re lookin’ at here. The fabric o’ space ain’t uniform. It gets squeezed up an’ stretched out by the

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different sorts o’ mass that’s in it. It’s full o’ swirls an’ eddies an’ whirlpools. An’ sometimes the swirls join up an’ form a vortex that connects one part o’ space with another.’ ‘A wormhole!’ ‘’Xactly. An’ this ship’s got Wormhole Drive. It can navigate tunnels in the fabric o’ space-time itself.’ ‘But I thought you said the ship was built before plasma transport was invented.’ ‘That’s right. This is the thing that come before it. It’s the same sort o’ idea, but there’s one big difference. You can’t control it.’ ‘What!’ ‘You can use it – but you can’t change it. I ’member you told me once ’bout the Earth’s oceans, an’ how great ships used to sail over ’em, blown by the air currents.’ ‘Yes. They waited for favourable winds, and they shifted the sails so they could get along in a zig-zag if the wind wasn’t dead behind them.’ ‘This is ’xactly the same. You sets a course that you wants the ship to follow. The system searches for wormholes an’ as long as there’s a component goin’ in the right direction it can use it. So you can make huge jumps across space. The drawback is you’re at the mercy o’ whatever’s out there. You uses the wormholes but you don’t control ’em.’ Awg thought for a moment. ‘So – was it, like, when plasma transport was invented it was the same principle, but the system created its own wormholes to order.’ ‘Yeah …yeah. I never looked at it like that, but that’s right. That’s ’xactly right.’ Awg turned again to the black screen. ‘And what about these special points that are marked? Are they important?’ ‘Yeah, they’re important all right. Danger areas. Things to be avoided. Stuff that’d wreck the ship. One sort of thing ’specially. Black holes. If you gets too near one o’ them, you’re finished.’

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Seventy

‘You best take a last look at Zero,’ said Zert. ‘Once we powers this thing up we could be leavin’ in a hurry.’ He switched on the rear viewer and wound up the magnification. ‘There’s ol’ Zero, an’ you can jus’ see the two moons. We did some stuff there, didn’ we?’ Awg remembered all right: their scrambled escape to Vwner with the treacherous pan-object; the horror of finding themselves on the poisonous world of Morvkd. ‘ … An’ that little dot’s Maglan. That’s our smallest planet, an’ the nearest to our sun.’ ‘And is that next one Hano, where the lava pools are?’ ‘Yep. Then comes Zero. Then Ospiros, where the spyridi come from origin’ly. That’s the planet nearest to us at the moment – sort o’ brown, an’ just one moon. Then there’s a big gap ’fore you gets to Zahr. ‘Zahr’s got forty-two moons, which maybe accounts for the gap. Zahr’s enormous, but it’s no good goin’ there. It’s mostly frozen gas an’ too cold even to think ’bout. An’ then it’s goodbye to Zero’s solar system an’ out ’cross the galaxy.’ He said it as if he was going down the street to get a sandwich. But then Zero’s galaxy was very small as galaxies go – only a few hundred light years across and containing just ten million stars. *

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‘Now – we gotta get ourselves organised, ’cos soon we gonna be on our own.’ ‘Because the radio delay’ll be so long?’ ‘Yep. It’s no good sendin’ Space HQ a message sayin’ we’re ’bout to be hit by a comet, whadda we do, an’ then waitin’ two weeks for an answer. An’ that’s like we’re still next door, on a scale o’ distance.’ ‘So – what first?’ ‘First, I’m gonna try out that gadget the Wybekns give us. I set it scannin’ ’bout an hour ago. So let’s see.’ A circle of light appeared in the corner of the viewing screen. Zert brought it across to focus on the planet Maglan. The circle remained white. Then he moved the cursor over the planet Hano, and a small red sector appeared. Finally, he focused on Zero, and about half the disc turned red. ‘Looks like it works. It’s sayin’ there’s no life on Maglan, which is right; an’ then a small amount on Hano, which is right again; an’ a major amount on Zero, which is fine.’ ‘How’s it work?’ ‘To be honest, I dunno. But the Wybekns is the smartest biologists in the galaxy. I thinks it scans through a whole matrix o’ stuff, like it compares the planet surface with its atmosphere. An’ it’s somehow sensitive to stuff like cell division. So if there’s anythin’ goin’ on that ain’t just geology, it picks it up.’ ‘I don’t suppose it’s got a friend?/foe? function?’ ‘No such luck. Anyhow, now we gotta get you fixed.’ ‘Fixed how?’ ‘So you survives hyperspace jumps. Th’effect on humans ain’t known, ’cos you’re the first to try it. My guess is it’ll be like plasma transfer, only worse. Spyridi ain’t phased much by any o’ that stuff, but life forms wi’ squashy bodies an’ large localised organs can get blasted. So you gotta be ready. Come an’ look.’ They returned to the black screen on the propulsion console. ‘You can see what’s ahead from the map, but the continuum density’s also plotted out ’long the bottom o’ the screen.’

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Awg saw a yellow trace. Worryingly, the scale went from zero to infinity. ‘The free-Space value’s 1.00, but a fluctuation of ± 0.02’s normal. If it begins to drift down much below 0.98, then we could be in business. I’ll set an alarm to sound, an’ then for you it’s suit up an’ get strapped in.’ ‘Er … the top of the scale – the infinity bit?’ ‘No need to worry. That’d mean we’d crossed the event horizon o’ a black hole an’ got squashed down to the size of an atom.’ ‘I think that’d worry me just a bit … ’ ‘Oh, You mean beforehand? Seriously, the ol’ Star’ll take care o’ most things. It’s gotta hazard avoidance system that’s pretty effective against stuff like hot gas clouds an’ asteroids, an’ it’ll not let you anywhere near the capture zone o’ a gravity sink. The real danger’s things that ain’t programmed in – stuff it don’t know about. That’s why we still need a system of keepin’ watch.’ ‘Well, there’s two of us. We can take turns.’ ‘No. You’re the only one as needs sleep – at least in chunks. While you’re asleep, I’ll guarantee to be one hundred percent alert. An’ when you’re on watch, I’ll maybe take little naps now an’ then. So then you must stay alert, jus’ in case. An’, besides the two o’ us, we got the ship’s software as back-up. An’ that’s up an’ runnin’ all the time. ‘So – you wanna do hyperspace?’ Awg nodded. Zert gave the security key a full turn, then entered the activation code. The black screen lit up with a startling brilliance. At last, the Silver Star was truly ready to fly.

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Seventy One

The two friends travelled on for three more days. Ospiros and her sister planets gradually disappeared from sight, and even Zero’s great sun diminished to a distant pin-point of red: one star amongst many. The view was now dominated by the huge orb of Zahr with its ring of moons. Once, the ship made a sudden change of course, and Awg caught his breath as a small, dark object streaked across their path. ‘Asteroid,’ commented Zert. ‘Best not to get too close. They’re bigger’n us.’ ‘How much bigger?’ ‘Mostly they’re quite small – jus’ a few miles across.’ ‘And that’s small?’ ‘Small compared to the ones that’s hundreds o’ miles across. People used to land on ’em, prospectin’ for minerals. Waste o’ time. Mostly, they’re just lumps o’ barren rock. Boring.’ On the fourth day, the hyperdrive screen picked up an abnormality in the region ahead. The continuum density began to edge lower and lower. Then the alarm went off. Awg had used the intervening time to practise his drill, so within minutes he was suited up and strapped into his bunk. He lay there for what seemed hours, wondering what would happen. He looked across to Zert, crouched over the mapping screen and staring intently. His next memory was waking up with his head on one side and a soggy towel around his face. He felt like death. Zert came over.

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‘You bin sick, but I made sure you was OK. Here … ’ He handed Awg a water pack and a cloth. ‘Don’ try an’ get up. Jus’ wait a while.’ Awg closed his eyes to stop the cabin going round and round. ‘Is it going to be like … this … every time?’ he asked, trying desperately not to throw up again. ‘Dunno. But p’raps your body’ll get used to it, so the effects’ll get less an’ less.’ ‘Zert – where are we?’ ‘11.2 billion Earth miles from Zero – way out beyond Zahr. We left Zero’s solar system an’ we’re headin’ out ’cross the galaxy. I switched the ship to manual control, so Space HQ’s out o’ it now. I sent ’em a message though.’ 11.2 billion miles. Awg screwed up his face with the effort of trying to work out the delay, but his brain couldn’t cope with it. Zert came to the rescue. ‘It’s ’bout a day an’ a half, so I turned the hyperdrive off till we hear back from ’em.’ ‘So it was quite a small jump,’ said Awg, as he began to think straight again. ‘Yeah. I set a limit on the Drive so’s we wouldn’t do too much first go. Thought it’d make it easier for you. But maybe the size o’ the jump ain’t that important.’ After a while, Awg felt well enough to get up. He made his way on to the flight deck and wound back the shields over the pilot’s window. Zert pointed to an area ahead. ‘See them stars? They’re ’nother part o’ the cluster that’s got Zero’s sun in it. They’re mostly old, like Zero’s. But there’s a few younger, brighter ones as well. An’ you should know – you bin there!’ ‘That’s crazy. How could I have been to a sun?’ ‘Not the sun itself, you dummy. A planet belongin’ to it. One o’ them stars is Qun’s sun.’ ‘The Nerians’ planet? Where Robo and I landed up?’ ‘The same. Now you can see why we prefers plasma transport.

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In this ship, we bin goin’ for thirteen days an’ travelled eleven billion miles – an’ it’s still ’bout another four light years to Qun. It’s a long way round.’ * The following day, a reply came back from Zero Space HQ. Zert was on watch. He waited for Awg to wake. ‘I gotta message from Xurog. He says there was a heap o’ trouble with Asa at first – but soon as she saw just ’bout everyone was against her goin’, she calmed down.’ ‘You were right, then. You said she’d come to see it was all for the best.’ ‘Yeah. She’s met with the Council an’ now they’re agreed on a strategy. They’re gonna help folks prepare for the worst – low key, though, to avoid causin’ a panic. But they’re puttin’ most effort into a big programme o’ welfare projects ’cos they gotta assume there’s some chance o’ survival. If there is a future, they wanna restore trust in the government an’ prove the Sharibvdl business is finished for good.’ Awg was relieved. He felt they’d maybe let Asa down by taking the Silver Star. What chance did a human schoolboy and a spyridon trainee technician have against the colossal threat of Boscabuon? At least Asa and her troops would have been an organised force. But there was no going back now. And perhaps… ‘An’ Xurog knows he won’t be hearin’ much more from us, so he says Ai Xara.’ Awg forced himself to focus on the present. He struggled with the Zeroian words. ‘Favourable … destiny … ?’ ‘Right idea. Try again.’ ‘Oh, I see – Good Luck.’

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Seventy Two

Zert reactivated the Wormhole Drive and the Silver Star began a long series of surges through the shadow world of hyperspace. With each advance towards their goal, Awg’s physical reaction decreased, although he never completely overcame the nausea. And, as Zert had suspected, the size of the jump made no difference. At times, their progress was rapid, step succeeding step in quick succession. But, more often, days passed with no wrinkle in the fabric of space, and they were forced to press forward on the Ion Drive at subcritical speed. Zert spent a long time going through the Nerians’ data on the Boscabuon galaxy. It seemed to have displayed unusual behaviour from the time records began. The movements were unpredictable and conformed to no known pattern. Over many years, its defining characteristic had been the large number of collisions it had suffered with other star systems, and a myth had arisen that it stalked other galaxies and preyed on them. The galaxy’s most prominent pattern of stars had even been nicknamed Diebedkz, ‘the hunter.’ All this had taken on a far darker aspect after a report was picked up from the depths of the Aldvetrid nebula. Only two things were known for certain about the source. Firstly, that it was extremely ancient; and secondly, that the galaxy it referred to was unquestionably Boscabuon. The report described devastating attacks on locations rich in organic carbon concentrations (such as centres of carbon-based animal or vegetable life). The last words of the report were unclear, but

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had been variously interpreted as ‘the moon is rising’ or ‘the orb approaches’. Since then, a watch had been kept on Boscabuon. Hundreds of years ago – at about the time the Silver Star had been built – it was over six million light years away from Zero. ‘So what’s the connection between Boscabuon and Ulgor?’ asked Awg. ‘Dunno. I guess that Boscabuon’s the machine that does the business an’ Ulgor’s th’intelligence that controls it.’ ‘Then if it’s all got so much power, why bother about Sharibvdl?’ ‘The idea must’ve bin to create as much trouble among the population as possible, so’s to take our minds off the bigger problem. It’s a diversionary tactic – like lobbin’ a few grenades over the wall to take attention away from the guys attackin’ the main gate.’ ‘But why go to all the trouble? If Ulgor’s so powerful and the destruction’s inevitable, what’s the point in staging a sideshow?’ ‘Well, there must’ve bin a reason.’ ‘I’ll tell you what I think. I think all the other things – Sharibvdl, the ring of fungal artillery around Gexadkydubm, the attacks on Asa – were a diversionary tactic. A load of hassle to keep us all as busy as possible. Because Ulgor was afraid the attack might be prevented. There was some weakness in the strategy, and it did all the other stuff to keep our attention away from it.’ ‘OK, I’ll buy that. It makes sense, ’part from one little detail. Exactly what is this flaw – this crack in the foundations that Ulgor’s so anxious about?’ ‘That shows how bloody successful it’s all been. Nobody’s got a clue!’ *

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On one memorable day, the grey tide of hyperspace washed the travellers out beyond the rim of Zero’s galaxy itself. From the cabin of the Silver Star, the profile of the great disc spread out majestically behind them, its centre a bar of light and dotted around with countless thousand stars. Ahead of them, the smaller and more irregular disc of Boscabuon loomed ever closer. Soon, they would be at its edge. ‘Not very big, is it?’ commented Awg, dismissively. ‘No. Lot smaller than even Zero’s galaxy,’ said Zert. ‘Just a big star cluster really. Diameter’s less than a hundred light years.’ Awg compared the two statements. Not very big. But it would take a beam of light nearly a hundred years to get from one side to the other. That was the trouble with Space. It was hard to get a sense of perspective. ‘So – what are we going to do? There’s two of us and the Silver Star, and Boscabuon’s a hundred light years across.’ ‘Yeah, it’s a problem. As is the fact that we’re lookin’ for some form o’ intelligence an’ the Wybekns couldn’t find no life in the whole place.’ ‘Perhaps Ulgor lives – or exists – outside the galaxy. Or maybe it’s like a mould growing over everything and so thin you wouldn’t notice.’ ‘Nah. I thinks your feelin’ from the time bubbles is nearer. Some sort o’ organism that’s located in one place.’ ‘Then why didn’t the Wybekns find it?’ ‘P’raps its very small, below the limit they could detect. Or maybe it’s shielded in some way.’ ‘Well if it’s just a single blob, it must be in the centre of the galaxy. Like a sp…’ No. That wasn’t a very good comparison to make. Luckily, Zert butted in. ‘Nah, there’s bad stuff at the centre o’ galaxies: incandescent gas, black holes. If anythin’s livin’ there, it’s even weirder than we think. I spec’ it’s tucked away somewhere nice an’ cool. But I’ll bet it’s not undefended. If there is some sort o’ central

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control, it’ll be stacked ’round wi’ more protection systems than a fortress.’ ‘In that case, we’re never going to find it. Or if we do, all that’s left of us’ll be the smoke.’ ‘Looks like we only got one choice, then. We got to offer it somethin’ it wants. Then it’ll come to us.’ ‘I shouldn’t think we’ve got anything it would come after. Its technology must be streets ahead even of yours.’ ‘I warn’t thinkin’ o’ technology, I was thinkin’ o’ what it hunts – its prey.’ ‘But according to the Nerians, that’s resources – minerals and stuff. And organic carbon – living matter.’ ‘Yeah. An’ we only got one thing like that.’ ‘You don’t mean … ourselves?’ ‘Yep. If we wants Ulgor to show itself, we’re gonna have to be the bait.’

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Seventy Three

The Silver Star hung as a tiny pinpoint of light against the dark rim of Boscabuon’s disc. Waiting. But for how long? And for what? Beyond, the brightening distance revealed the deeper expanse of the galaxy itself – an unknown region where the two friends now prepared to go. There they would deactivate the hyperspace drive and coast slowly onward, watching for any sign of their adversary. Awg could see that Zert, working at the black screen, seemed to be absorbed in carrying out an increasing number of calculations. Finally, Awg’s curiosity got the better of him. Zert clicked in frustration. ‘OK, I’ll explain. I wanted to wait till I’d sussed it all out, but maybe that’s not gonna happen any time soon. ‘It’s like this. Lookin’ at the continuum density readin’s, I was gettin’ more an’ more interference from somethin’. At first, I jus’ turned the filters up higher an’ higher so’s not to be bothered with it. But eventually it annoyed the hell out o’me, so I turned the filters off an’ took a look at what was causin’ the problem. An’ this is it.’ He flicked a switch and the screen filled with a mass of moving columns of symbols. ‘It’s a great mass o’ signals, an’ I can’t make sense o’ any of it. I bin recordin’ it for days, hopin’ to crack the pattern, but I can’t.’ ‘Where’s it all coming from?’ asked Awg. ‘Everywhere. That’s th’other problem. There’s no single source – it’s all ’round.’

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‘Perhaps it’s Ulgor trying to get in touch. I mean, maybe the message is ‘nice of you to call, why don’t you drop in for a few Cokes and a chat’.’ ‘Nah. The signals is too many an’ too complex for an ordin’ry message. It’s nothin’ to do with us. Seems to be the galaxy talkin’ to itself.’ * A few days later, Awg looked up from the routine check he was carrying out on the water supply. What he saw was so unlikely that he closed his eyes, swallowed hard, then opened them again very wide. He wasn’t dreaming. It was still there. ‘Zert … ’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘How long was this ship out in the Eastern desert – when it was in storage, I mean?’ ‘Dunno. ’Bout eight hundred of your Earth years, I should think.’ ‘And all that time, it was sealed up – so that nothing could happen to it?’ ‘O’ course. That was th’idea. To preserve it. Why?’ ‘It’s just that … I know a bit about that desert, because I’ve been there. I crossed it with Asa. And I know what it’s like – and what lives there.’ ‘So?’ ‘So – there’s a rat sitting on the control console behind you.’ * They caught the rat and killed it. Then they hunted for more, and found three. Then they used the in-board cameras to look around the ship. In the pilot capsule, they couldn’t see any more. Then they looked in the other two sections. There were thousands of them.

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* ‘We’re gonna get eaten alive,’ said Awg. ‘You realise that? These are balerids – flesh-eating desert rats. They can strip you to the bone in minutes.’ ‘What they bin livin’ on here, then? There’s no flesh here ’cept us – mostly you, that is.’ ‘Thanks a lot! But you’ve got a point. We better find out what they’ve been eating.’ ‘And why didn’ no one detect ’em before?’ ‘Perhaps they were in the First Class and came out after takeoff for their wine and canapés.’ ‘Watcha talkin’ about?’ ‘Never mind.’ * Some time during the Silver Star’s storage period, rats had eaten through the protective seals and got on board. Maybe only two or so. But they were very good at getting together and making more rats … and more rats … and more … They had burrowed into the auxiliary food store in the third section, and had been living and breeding there, sealed off from the rest of the ship. Now, with the bulkhead doors between the sections open, they had ventured farther afield. It turned out that the rats had also eaten many of the laboratory specimens in the central capsule – things like the tissue samples, and useful examples of alien plants and fungi and dried bacteria. Awg gazed at the seething mass of grey, furry bodies on the screen. ‘Zert – what are we going to do? We can’t kill all that lot.’ ‘Okay, okay, okaaaaayyyyy … Let’s jus’ think ’bout this. What bits of the ship can’t we do without?’ ‘The pilot capsule, because it’s got the main engines and all the controls and navigation stuff, not to mention our living

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quarters. And the service section, because that contains all the machines that do the recirculation and make the recycled food – and it’s got the lab unit, with stuff we might need to fight Ulgor.’ ‘So we could dump the whole third section, ’cos it’s mostly equipment an’ storage an’ auxiliary food, half o’ which the rats’ve eaten anyway.’ ‘Can we open the remaining food storage silos from here?’ ‘Yep. Everythin’ in the ship can be operated remotely from the pilot capsule.’ ‘Then we open up all the ready-made food, leave the rats to find it, then shut the bulkhead so that No. 3 section is isolated – and full of rats.’ * They gave the rats about two Earth days with the food silos wide open. Watching the screen monitors, it was obvious that the rat numbers in the ship’s central (and more or less food-free) section were dropping fast. When no more rats were visible, they shut the intermediate bulkhead and started a search. On the first day, they caught and killed one hundred and fourteen rats. On the second day, thirty one. On the third day, three. On the fourth day none. On the fifth day, one. And then no more.

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Seventy Four

On the 93rd day of their mission, Awg awoke with a feeling of unease that he could not explain. He put it down to the rats, and went cautiously about the cabin, half-expecting one of the deadly grey shapes to appear beside an instrument panel, or to streak away when a locker was opened. But there were no rats. At least, in their part of the ship. Many days passed uneventfully. Awg and Zert cleaned up the laboratory section, repaired rat damage, maintained the log of their journey and kept watch. Then the warning siren sounded and they did two hyperspace jumps in quick succession. The Silver Star was penetrating deeper and deeper into the Boscabuon galaxy. They passed in and out of solar systems, sometimes with a single sun but often with two or more. Most had circling planets. It was a spacescape of great beauty, and utterly peaceful. Everywhere, they used the Wybekn scanner to search for signs of life, and everywhere the answer was the same. Nothing. Awg’s feeling of apprehension intensified until it approached something very close to terror. He was angry at himself for being so stupid, and searched around for reasons to explain what he was going through – without success. The rats had not broken out. Zert had not fallen prey to some sudden illness. The Silver Star showed no sign of faltering on its course. The travellers were now almost a quarter of the way across Boscabuon’s disc. This put them well into the body of the galaxy but still a safe distance from whatever maelstrom might inhabit its centre. They had reached the point at which they would turn

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off the hyperspace drive and coast slowly onwards using only the ion thrust engines.* They found themselves within a binary star system with a large number of associated planets. The nearest was a red-brown planet with four moons. When Awg finished his latest watch, the Silver Star was cruising at somewhere near its maximum speed on ion drive. They were roughly 5 million miles from the red-brown planet and so would pass nearby in around six hours. Zert took over, and Awg tried to get some sleep. In his present state of agitation this was almost impossible, but after a while he did fall into a fitful slumber. In a dream, he saw the view from their spacecraft, the sky ablaze with unfamiliar stars. But somewhere at the edge of his vision, he was conscious of some dark object, a circle of blackness. It hovered at the fringe of what he could see. He tried to focus on it, but each time he did so it disappeared, only to reappear in a different position, always at the margin, always just out of sight. Then the circle began to grow. It got larger and larger until it blotted out the stars and filled his whole field of view. It was enveloping him, smothering him. He began to scream. Then he was being shaken. ‘Awg … AWG … WAKE UP!’ He sat up, gasping for breath, to find Zert beside him, looking very shaken himself. ‘OK. It’s OK. You was havin’ bad dreams.’ Awg felt reassured by his friend’s bristly limb on his shoulder. Zert eyed him closely. ‘You OK to get up?’ * * ‘slowly’ being a relative term, as their Space speed would still be in the region of 700,000 miles per hour

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Awg nodded. ‘There’s somethin’ you gotta see.’ Ahead of them, the red-brown planet dominated the field of view. The sight was spectacular, but not more so than that of many other planets they had passed. ‘Yep. It’s wonderful.’ ‘It’s not that. Look at the moons!’ Then Awg saw. There had been four moons. Now there were five.

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Seventy Five

The fifth moon was black. Awg turned his eyes away. There was no longer any shadow of doubt where the source of his terror lay. They put the Wybekn scanner on it, already knowing what the answer would be. In the viewing screen, Zert brought the circle of light to focus on the black moon. The entire disc turned red. ‘We found what we come for,’ said Zert quietly. ‘Or it’s found us,’ whispered Awg. ‘But what is it?’ ‘Moon? Small planet? Large asteroid? But none o’ them things appears out o’ nowhere. And none of ’em’s alive.’ ‘Can we look closer?’ They zoomed in on the magnification. The face of the object appeared to be smooth – but its black surface was everywhere criss-crossed by veins of white, like a vast river delta. Nothing moved. ‘And that’s alive?’ ‘It’s somethin’ no one’s ever seen before. P’raps ages ago some sort o’ spore landed on it. Somehow it grew, an’ burrowed, an’ spread out till it covered everythin’.’ ‘You mean that whole thing’s Ulgor – all of it?’ ‘Yeah, must be. You seen the scanner. Whaddid you say a while ago? Maybe it’s like a mould growing over everything. I reckon that’s it. Whatever it was grew over the whole planet till the two things become one.’ ‘Could we destroy it – zap it with something?’ ‘It’s a bit big for that.’

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‘Well, how big are the Silver Star’s guns?’ ‘Eh?’ ‘Has it got some of those plasma cannons that shot at Asa?’ ‘Look – the Star’s an exploration vessel, not a battlecruiser. It ain’t got no guns.’ ‘None at all?’ ‘None at all.’ ‘So how’re we going to defend ourselves?’ ‘Could be a problem. Look at the screen.’ ‘It looks about the same to me.’ ‘No, Ulgor’s bigger. I synchronised the speeds so’s we’d stay the same distance but the gap’s started to close. It’s comin’ towards us.’ Awg’s terror dissolved into a strange feeling of relief. ‘OK. Let it come. We’ve crossed half a universe to face this thing. Let’s get it over with.’ As the giant orb approached, it began to rotate. Its surface of veined malignancy gradually slipped from their sight, and a new and more terrible aspect was revealed, as horrific as it was unexpected. The previously hidden face of the planet was scarred with thousands of craters. And its surface was littered with wrecked spacecraft. ‘Look at all those ships,’ gasped Awg.‘There must be hundreds of them – thousands.’ Even Zert was amazed. ‘I recognise some of ’em – but there’s a load I never seen before, even in pictures.’ ‘Can you focus in a bit? On that ship near the centre of the picture – the one with all the tail fins.’ The image of the crashed spacecraft grew to fill the screen. ‘Yeah – that’s it. Now look!’ Awg pointed to the centre of the ship. ‘See! You can make out the damage the crash must’ve caused – but then there’s this.’ The central portion of the ship seemed to have melted away, and the surviving shell was pock-marked with pits of corroded metal.

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‘It’s been attacked with acid or something. Lets look at some of the other ships.’ It was the same with them all. Regardless of size or design, every one of the wrecked spacecraft had at some point a jagged hole eaten into it. ‘Hmmmm … You noticed anythin?’ asked Zert, staring intently at the panorama of destruction before them. ‘Apart from the holes, you mean?’ ‘With every ship, the hole’s on the side o’ the nearest crater. Whatever made them holes musta crawled or oozed outa that, an’ burrowed into the ship. Wouldn’t rate the chances o’ the folks inside.’ ‘But – all those ships. How the hell did they all get there?’ Awg was startled as Zert spun round to face him. ‘I knows ’xactly how they got there. They got trapped. Their engines failed an’ Ulgor’s gravity sucked ’em down till they crashed on its surface. An’ we’re gonna be next in line. Look at your power monitors.’ In a rising panic, Awg scanned the displays showing the Silver Star’s power output. The monitors all registered zero. ‘Y’see? There’s no power on any of ’em. Nothin’s workin’.’

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Seventy Six

‘No power at all?’ asked Awg, in shock. ‘Main source is givin’ two percent. That’ll just about keep the ship’s systems runnin’ – but there’s nothin’ over to get us anywhere. Dunno how, but Ulgor’s pulled the big switch on us.’ ‘What about the hyperdrive? Can’t we dive down a wormhole?’ ‘Look at the black screen. Continuum density’s normal – an’ hyperdrive uses stacks o’ power anyhow. Power we ain’t got.’ ‘No running away, then. Even if we wanted to. Which we shouldn’t. But what are we going to do?’ ‘Well, unless we can think o’ somethin’ pretty quick, we’re gonna end up down there on the deck, like the others.’ ‘I’m not going to let soddin’ Ulgor have the Silver Star!’ The fierceness of Awg’s reaction took even Zert by surprise. ‘Look – how much power’s it take to segment the ship – to separate the sections completely?’ ‘Not much. A bit to seal the bulkheads. Bit more to invert the magnetic links an’ release the sections. But then quite a whack to do the fluidisation an’ re-shapin’ – that’s the Star’s special ability.’ ‘But that last thing – the bit that takes more power – that’s not actually necessary for the separation, is it?’ ‘Nope. It can wait. But eventually you has to allow the ship to re-shape itself if you wants to travel at any decent speed.’ ‘How long’ve we got – before we end up down there with the other wrecks?’

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‘Makin’ a guess at the strength o’ Ulgor’s gravity, I’d say ’bout two days.’ ‘Right! I’m going to do some checking in No. 2 section. I’ll be back quick as I can.’ * In the event, Awg returned in less than fifteen minutes. He leant over Zert, glued to the monitor screens. ‘Anything new?’ ‘Nope. We’re jus’ driftin’ down to decorate Ulgor’s scrapyard.’ ‘We’ll bloody see about that!’ ‘What were you doin’?’ ‘I went to the lab to check on the damage the rats did. I wanted to see if they’d touched the samples of that black gunk from Morvkd.’ ‘And?’ ‘It looks like it was one of the first things they went for. And they ate the lot.’ ‘So – whatever Ulgor’s made of, the rats’ll go for it. An’ you reckon … ?’ ‘I reckon it might be low-tech enough to work.’ ‘Yeah. Maybe Ulgor’s got power blocks an’ black rain an’ poison darts an’ things to screw up your mind – but maybe it’s a bit short on mousetraps!’ ‘It’s definitely worth a try.’ ‘OK. So let’s do ’em both a favour. Give the rats the chance o’ a good meal an’ give Ulgor what it wants – organic carbon, living matter. We’ll let Ulgor get its teeth into No. 3 section an’ see who eats who!’ * Section-3 of the Silver Star was already isolated from the rest of the spacecraft. Within it, and with access to the entire reserve of ready-made food, the rats had prospered. There were now

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several million of them. Soon they would be separated from their mother ship and journeying alone. Firing the magnetic bolts propelled the mega-canister of rats on a collision course with Ulgor’s cratered surface. However, owing to the Law of Conservation of Momentum, it also forced the remainder of the Silver Star backwards and away from it at about half the same speed. As the ship drifted slowly but steadily away, it became increasingly difficult for its remaining occupants to see what was going on. What was certain was that, less than two days later, the Rat Star crashed on to Ulgor’s surface. One day after that, something black and sinuous appeared from the nearest crater and stretched its way out towards the section of ship, finally wrapping itself around its centre. Within hours, the middle of No. 3 section appeared to cave in. Then, it seemed to Awg and Zert as if a tide of grey emerged from the ship and surged forward, emptying into the surrounding craters. After that, although they kept constant watch for days, they could make out nothing more on their viewing screens. They were just too far away. * ‘The in-board cameras!’ shouted Awg, suddenly. ‘What about ’em?’ ‘Not ours – on this part of the ship. The ones in No. 3 section. Will they still be working? Have we got enough power to activate them?’ ‘Dunno. I’ll check it out.’ Zert worked for a long time without result. But then … ‘Gottit!’ Number-three section of the ship was in a bad way. It appeared to have fallen in half, most of its centre open to the sky and displaying a tangle of corroded metal. Outside, the surface of Ulgor looked much as they had seen it from their own cameras. Except for a black shadow …

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‘Look – the nearest crater!’ cried Awg. ‘Another tentacle’s coming out … ’ But it wasn’t any living form that emerged from the pit. A dark slime began to ooze out of the original crater. Then, later on, from the others nearby. Then gradually from all the craters that they could see, until pools of black vomit were spattered over the entire surface. Then the Silver Star’s power came back.

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Seventy Seven

‘Is that it? We travel seven hundred frigging light years in a stolen spacecraft – and then the End of the Universe is seen off by a load of rats having a free lunch. Holy Jeez! We’ll never live it down!’ ‘It ain’t that simple,’ said Zert. ‘I think I’m quite glad to hear that.’ ‘Jus’ listen. You’re not gonna be glad then.’ Awg listened. ‘First, it’s too quick. How long since the rats went down?’ ‘Nine days.’ ‘D’you think rats could eat a planet in nine days?’ ‘Maybe if they were really hungry … ’ ‘Come on, guys! It’s gotta be disease. Rats carry all kinds o’ crap.’ ‘Not just that – remember what they’ve been eating! All those laboratory specimens in No.2 section: tissue samples, and hundreds of alien plants, fungi and bacteria. They’re probably carrying an absolute smorgasbord of toxins and viruses!’ ‘Looks like we got lucky, then – an’ somethin’ the rats had was pretty bad for Ulgor. This Ulgor, anyhow.’ Awg looked up sharply, taken aback. ‘What the hell d’you mean, this Ulgor?’ ‘Look – what we seen here was pretty impressive. But think ’bout it. The scale! This Ulgor was massive – but it can’t account for the whole size o’ Boscabuon an’ the scale o’ the attack on Zero’s galaxy. What we seen is one aspect of Ulgor. There’s more like it. Let me show you somethin’.’

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Zert flicked a switch, and his screen once again filled with a mass of moving columns of symbols. ‘You remembers them signals – the interference – the stuff I couldn’t understand? Well, I still can’t – not all of it anyhow – but I knows what it is now. It’s two separate things all mixed up. Tha’s why I couldn’ crack it. I knew it was complex stuff in binary, but I din’ realise it was two completely different things. One part is the different bits of Ulgor talkin’ to each other, an’ the other’s all the control codes for the trajectories o’ the star systems within Boscabuon’s galaxy.’ ‘You mean, one part’s Ulgor’s phone messages to the different bits of itself and the other’s Boscabuon’s flight plan?’ ‘You gottit. I could only unscramble ’em when our local bit o’ Ulgor got topped, ’cos then its signals stopped an’ I could subtract ’em out from what went before. But there’s still loads o’ talk. So there’s gotta be others.’ ‘That must be why the Wybekns couldn’t find any life within Boscabuon. The Ulgors are dotted about all over the place. They’re spread too thin to show up on the scan – at least the sort the Wybekns could do from so far away.’ ‘Yeah. An’ each one’s quite small an’ always movin’ about, so that makes ’em even harder to spot on the scan’s long timescale. They gets averaged out.’ ‘So, what the hell do we do now? Go round and find all the other Ulgors? There could be dozens – thousands, even. And anyway, we haven’t got any more rats.’ ‘No. What we done so far – besides managin’ to stay alive o’ course – is define the nature o’ the problem. An’ we can see it’s too big for us to sort on our own. Which is what we mighta realised anyhow, bearin’ in mind the scale o’ Boscabuon an’ everythin’. So we gotta bring out the big guns an’ take Boscabuon apart.’ ‘I thought you said the Silver Star didn’t have any guns.’ ‘She don’t. But we got what Xurog give us – an’ it looks like we’re gonna have to use it.’ ‘You don’t sound very happy about it.’ ‘No. It was for savin’ as a last resort.’

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‘OK, so it’s our last resort.’ ‘Yeah. Last – for us, that is.’

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Seventy Eight

They went over to where Xurog’s silver sphere sat above its frame of intricate circuitry. ‘Xurog hoped we wouldn’ have to use it,’ said Zert, ‘though he prob’ly knowed in his heart we would.’ ‘I haven’t asked till now,’ said Awg. ‘But what exactly is it?’ ‘It’s a dimensional prism. The first ever made.’ ??????? ‘You knows how an optical prism splits white light into its primary colours?’ Awg nodded. ‘Well, this does the same with dimensions.’ ‘With dimensions?’ ‘Yeah. Your Earth’s universe exists in the basic dimensions o’ time an’ distance – four dimensions in all. An’ Zero’s universe mostly works in the same way. But there’s loadsa other dimensions – you knows that from stuff we done together.’ ‘You mean, when the pan-object slipped partly into its hidden dimensions, and how the TDM transport system uses them too?’ ‘Right. Some of ’em don’t have any meaning at all in our worlds. But others do, an’ there’s ways they can be used. We call ’em the anomalous dimensions, ’cos that’s what they are. Weird. Out o’ the ordin’ry. Some of ’em just overlaps with the more common ones, so we norm’ly don’ experience ’em. Then there’s others that’re fantastically small, so they only affects atoms an’ such. An’ some folks think there’s others that’s created by events…’

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‘Like when a couple of dummies switch on a dimensional prism?’ ‘Yeah – that sort o’ thing. They appears, does somethin’ unexpected, an’ then fades away again. Whole thing might be over in a nanosecond.’ Awg gazed at the silver sphere. It was disconcerting to know that something so small and so seemingly beautiful had such an awful power. ‘Looks like we better get on with it then,’ he said, swallowing the fear he felt. ‘How do we start?’ ‘All we gotta do is provide the energy. ’s’already got the volume coordinates o’ the Boscabuon galaxy, an’ it’ll lock on straight ’way ’cos we’re actually inside. So when we hits the button, it’ll split th’entire mass ’tween all the available dimensions.’ ‘And how many’s that?’ ‘Can’t tell. Could be thousands.’ ‘And what happens to the Silver Star – and us?’ ‘Think ’bout it. This machine’s gonna burst everythin’ into a whole new set o’ dimensions, so there’ll not be too much left in th’old ones. An’ we’re at the focus – the nucleus it all starts out from, like a crack in a piece o’ glass. Everything’s gonna get busted, and we’re smack in the middle of it.’ * They made everything ready. Then they tidied up the Silver Star, putting every item in its proper place and clearing away the drink containers and scraps of food that seemed to have found their way on to every working surface. It was a completely illogical activity, but they were proud of the ship and somehow wanted to have the Star looking her best. Then they ran the programme that allowed the ship’s exterior to fluidise and reshape, so that it regained the symmetry and beauty lost when No. 3 section had been jettisoned.

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When all was finished, pilot and co-pilot seated themselves at the controls and braced themselves for their last, irrevocable actions. ‘Everything hooked up?’ ‘Yeah. I decided to couple Xurog’s prism into the Wormhole Drive, an’ we’re gonna give it everythin’ the ship’s got.’ There was a long silence before Awg spoke again, his finger on the master control which would close the final link to the power source. ‘We agreed?’ he said at last. ‘We’re going ahead with it?’ ‘Yep. Do it.’ Awg hesitated. Not because he was afraid. Not even because the end of his own life would also be the death of his greatest friend. But because of a word that nagged at the back of his mind. Preventable.

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Seventy Nine

A month into their flight there had been a conversation. About Ulgor. ‘I’ll tell you what I think. I think all the other things – Sharibvdl, the ring of fungal artillery around Gexadkydubm, the attacks on Asa – were a diversionary tactic. A load of hassle to keep us all as busy as possible. Because Ulgor was afraid the attack might be prevented. There was some weakness in the strategy, and it did all the other stuff to keep our attention away from it.’ Awg turned to Zert. ‘No one’s ever done this sort of thing before, have they? No one knows what will actually happen.’ ‘Nope.’ ‘So isn’t there a possibility that the number of dimensions activated might be quite small?’ ‘Could be.’ ‘So, big chunks of Boscabuon might get released into other dimensions – into other universes?’ ‘S’pose so.’ ‘And, if that happened, enough of Ulgor might survive intact – and we’d just be passing on the problem to someone else.’ ‘Can’t rule it out.’ ‘We can’t let that happen. Isn’t there anything we can do to screw up Boscabuon completely? Isn’t there some way we could blast it to bits, then use Xurog’s prism to blow away the bits?’ ‘We gone through this before. We ain’t got nothin’ powerful enough to destroy a whole galaxy.’

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‘What about those signals you picked up? Couldn’t we jam them, or something?’ ‘Nah. It’s jus’ loads o’ instructions for velocities an’ direction for all the components o’ the galaxy.’ ‘So you actually understand the commands themselves?’ ‘Oh yeah. They’re dead simple. The actual control codes is very primitive. It’s jus’ that there’s millions an’ millions o’ different instructions based on’em.’ ‘Then what about transmitting ‘STOP’?’ Silence ‘That’d mean … th’entire energy resources o’ the galaxy’d … be set against the total kinetic energy o’ its motion through space … ‘HOLY MOLY!!! That’s it!’ * Long, long ago. Aeons ago, when Zero’s universe was still young and Zero’s own sun had not yet burst into fire, life emerged in a distant galaxy, one of the first to cool from the primordial chaos. Intelligent life developed and prospered. A great people grew, with capabilities and technology far outstripping anything else at the time and most civilisations since. Soon they had exhausted their own planet’s reserves and were forced to seek materials elsewhere. Their own galaxy was small, and eventually its entire resources had been consumed. So the people conceived an astonishing idea. They harnessed the power of the stars within their own galaxy to control its movement through space. Deliberately and wilfully, they brushed against other galaxies and stole material from them for their own use. They had turned their entire galaxy into a vast predatory machine whose passage through the void was controllable, and which could seek and steal all that they needed.

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But eventually something went wrong. Possibly, disagreement and rivalry destroyed the unity of their people and led to a devastating war. Maybe they were ravaged by disease. Perhaps cosmic radiation or a sudden sunflare led to their demise, as had befallen the original inhabitants of Qun. Or perhaps their very triumph was their own undoing and one of the galactic collisions met with disaster and wiped them out. As a result, the thinking population was destroyed. But the machine they had created carried on, doing what it had been programmed to do. Seeking out galaxies rich in natural resources and robbing them. Carrying on mechanically with no guidance other than its own in-built programme. That is, until Ulgor found it. What Ulgor was and where it came from is not known. Maybe spores from an alien and malignant life form were scattered across Zero’s universe. Perhaps the black box at Zero’s city of Auyvhasdh and the dark and evil pool on the moon Morvkd had their origins at this time. However, in the smaller planets and larger asteroids of the Boscabuon galaxy many spores grew and multiplied, eventually worming their way into their very fabric. A baleful intelligence developed, and learnt to use the machine of Boscabuon for its own purposes. Thereafter the two effectively became one, and the attacks on other galaxies became malicious rather than impersonal. Ulgor also began targeting organic carbon sources, the one thing it needed which it could not make itself. Eventually, it conceived the idea of the attack upon Zero’s galaxy. From its surveillance of Zero’s communications, it also discovered the energy source to fuel such an assault, because it became aware of the Earth’s universe and the drift of Dark Matter. Thus, Ulgor did not create Boscabuon, but used it as a system discovered. And, cunning as Ulgor was, it never learned the secrets of the great engines which drew colossal power from the galaxy’s suns and propelled the whole constellation across the void. Ulgor was unable to modify the ancient command codes – but it could use them to control Boscabuon’s movements. And its great fear was that someone else would learn to do the same.

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Ulgor had therefore considered the possibility that some attempt might be made to divert the attack on Zero’s galaxy. But it had not even remotely conceived of a more catastrophic outcome.

* Awg hesitated no longer. ‘Do it. Send the stop command. We’ll wait long enough to check that it’s worked and then fire Xurog’s prism. We’ll let Boscabuon destroy itself – and Xurog blow away the ashes.’ It did not take Zert long to transmit to all addresses the simplest possible command. And then the two friends sat together to witness the greatest celestial firework display in the history of their worlds. Distantly around them, planets began to glow, and then to melt. Planets collided with their more rapidly slowing moons. Shards of fractured asteroids forged glowing paths across the void. Remote suns flared into supernovae. The skies boiled. The Silver Star shuddered and jolted as the first shocks burst upon it. Very soon it would be engulfed in a firestorm of radiation and vaporised. There was just one more thing to do. Zert put a bristly arm around his friend’s shoulder, and then, with their several eyes on Xurog’s prism, Awg closed the circuit. They had just enough time to see the silver sphere become incandescent.

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Eighty

At Auyvhasdh University, the students were slowly drifting back from their homes, and classes were soon to resume. Life in the student village was cautiously returning to normal. But some things were far from routine. In a room that had once belonged to Awg, the highest Official on the planet was talking to a condemned murderer. ‘The hospital in Gexadkydubm has told me that your hand is fully healed. Let me see.’ Robo pulled up his sleeve and held out his arm. ‘It’s a bit out of shape but I’ve got nearly all the movement and feeling back. They’ve done a fantastic job ... Awg would have been pleased.’ Asa too had healed. She had slowly recovered from her horrific encounter with the mind of Ulgor and was now renewed in both body and spirit. As she looked out across the Green, memories of Awg came flooding back. ‘I once visited him in this very room. He wasn’t expecting me, and came to the door half-dressed with a sock in his hand.’ Somehow, this very characteristic picture of his friend affected Robo more deeply than all the nights he had spent awake agonising over the probable fate of the Silver Star. He could barely find any voice to reply. ‘You still haven’t heard anything?’ ‘We know they reached their goal,’ said Asa quietly, ‘and that the Dimension Device was used.’ ‘Boscabuon’s still in the sky.’ ‘And will be for many generations, before its light fails – if it does.’

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‘So we’ve no way of knowing, for sure – at the moment?’ ‘Xurog’s collecting evidence,’ answered Asa. ‘He thinks they did it.’ ‘They somehow destroyed it?’ ‘He believes so.’ ‘I always thought heroes were different from everybody else,’ said Robo. ‘Born with some ‘heroic powers’, or something. But it isn’t true. Mostly, they’re just ordinary people who find the strength to do brave and unselfish things.’ ‘Yes – and it’s up to us to build on what they achieved. To make sure their sacrifice isn’t wasted.’ ‘How’s Xurog taking it?’ ‘It’s hard to say. Spyridi don’t show their feelings. Zert was very special to him.’ Robo sat with his head in his hands, staring at the floor and speaking almost to himself. ‘He sent them because they were the ones he judged stood the highest chance of success. He thought it all through, and then followed on to its logical conclusion. But I bet it tore him apart to do it.’ ‘Why don’t you go and talk to him?’ ‘Me? Go and see … Xurog?’ Robo sat up in astonishment. ‘You are free to go where you wish in Auyvhasdh. And I believe such a meeting might help you both.’ ‘I could do with some help. I’ve got to come to terms with leaving all this behind. It’s all so incomplete. There’s no … closure.’ ‘Do you feel bitter about your sentence? There are many of our people who think you’re a hero and should be rewarded, not punished.’ ‘No. What else could I expect? You’ve treated me fairly – leniently, even – according to your law. It’s a part of my life I want to forget, although I never shall.’ ‘And about your father staying here?’ ‘That’s his choice.’ ‘It’s all been more than he could take,’ said Asa. ‘You must try to understand that. And forgive him, if you can.’

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‘Yep. I can do that. But … we had something very special between us, and now it’s gone. And Awg and Zert are gone. And I feel empty.’ * Xurog had forgotten what it was to receive good news. For months, he had dealt with nothing but system failures, attacks on personnel, the poisoning of innocent people, the perils faced by friends and – like a monstrous shadow over everything – the looming threat of universal destruction. He had sent Zert and the Earth boy on an impossible mission. He should have gone himself, not thrown their young lives away. But now this ray of hope … The circuitry of the dimensional prism installed on the Silver Star had contained a beacon device*, and a signal from this had been picked up by the Chykideyh communications station. The beacon signal contained three key pieces of information. The first pulse was a call sign, unambiguously identifying the source as the Silver Star. The second was triggered by the coordinates of the Boscabuon galaxy, and could only have been sent from that location. The third part of the signal confirmed that the dimensional device had been activated – but said nothing about the result. For evidence of that, Xurog would have to look elsewhere. Not to the skies. Far-distant Boscabuon’s light would continue to shine on Zero for the best part of a thousand years even if its source had been snuffed out. No, the first indications might lie nearer home. Deep beneath Zero’s communications hub at Chykideyh lay *

This relied on the gravity-wave technology employed in Zero’s surveillance beacons (such as the one on top of Gellyn Mountain). Zert had used the same system for Awg’s watch. Only very limited amounts of information can be transmitted.

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a gateway device, a hidden and unsuspected link to Ulgor. The Earth boy had courageously entered, explored and eventually escaped. Since then, a constant watch had been kept. And now its darkly luminous power was fading. Shutting down. Dying away. At the same time, the long-depleted signal strength at Chykideyh data station itself was returning to normal levels. The plasma transport network had been closed down. Now Xurog gave orders for the beams to be re-energised at an exploratory ten percent capacity. By the next morning, Chykideyh was reporting continued stability, and the transport beams were still up and at a stable level. Xurog had always assumed that Ulgor had deliberately targeted these networks, causing paralysing disruption and crossover. But perhaps the effect had after all been accidental, an unintentional result of interference from Ulgor’s own communications system. That system’s mode of operation was unknown, but its extraordinary speed suggested associative technology and data tunnelling far in advance of anything the Zeroians themselves could achieve. If, now, Zero’s systems were recovering, it could only mean that Ulgor’s were failing. Xurog was not prone to bouts of euphoria, but when on the third day both Zeroian systems were still running normally, he allowed himself a few moments of optimism. * Robo had prepared himself for the meeting with Xurog, but even so its impact was traumatic. He understood why Awg had at first been so terrified. Meeting Zert had been a shock, but the sheer size and presence of Xurog … ‘Hallo Jonathan.’ ‘Hallo sir.’ In his grief, Robo’s stock of logical and well thought-out questions evaporated.

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‘What’s happened?’ he blurted out. Xurog had also prepared himself. He suppressed the pain and let his rational self take over. ‘It seems inescapable that our Adventurers resorted to the use of the prism device. And that they achieved dispersion.’ ‘But they themselves – Awg and Zert?’ ‘I cannot say. Looking at the form of the equations, one opinion is that the amplitude of the dispersive wave is at its maximum at the origin, in which case the Silver Star and its occupants will have been atomised into the spectrum of dimensions which they created. Others, including myself, believe that there is a node at the origin, in which case they may have remained isolated in space whilst the Boscabuon galaxy was dissolved around them, finally sinking into whatever set of dimensions crystallised at that point.’ ‘So they could be alive?’ ‘Yes. Alive, in some world it is impossible for us to imagine.’

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Eighty One

It was a different Xurog who broke the long silence. His mind carried a great burden, and its weight was crushing him. ‘You asked me what had happened, and I gave you an answer. But it was not complete, because there is a deeper question which I have not answered fully, even to myself. There is something I have not yet done because … I feared to.’ Robo was stunned. That Xurog was afraid of anything was staggering enough, but to admit it – and to him – was mindblowing. ‘I believe that the Boscabuon galaxy has been dispersed,’ Xurog continued, ‘but that is only one part of the problem. There is – or may be – a still more terrible threat.’ ‘The Dark Matter?’ ‘Yes.’ Xurog felt an overwhelming sense of relief. The boy understood. There was at last someone to share the load. ‘Yes. If some crucial part of Ulgor remains, so that the flow of Dark Matter from your planet’s universe continues, then we are still headed for catastrophe. The critical point of annihilation will eventually be reached and the Silver Star’s mission will have failed after all.’ Robo’s heart hammered. He tried to breathe normally, but it was no good. He was shaking. No wonder even Xurog had baulked at the possibility of discovering this. The Master of the Spyridi seated himself at the console and beckoned Robo to join him. ‘Let us look at the data together. It is a simple thing to do,

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but rarely have two people had to gaze into such an abyss. Two people – two representatives, one from each universe. That is surely as it should be.’ He set up the screen. The axes of a graph appeared. ‘Do you understand our symbols?’ Robo shook his head. ‘The vertical scale is matter transferred and the horizontal axis is time. Of course, only the final results will be shown here. The actual gravity sensors and receptor arrays are buried deep beneath the surface of our planet, and the integration is performed at the Auyvhasdh data centre. It is a massive calculation.’ Xurog paused, taking momentary pleasure in the technical achievement, but then steeling himself for whatever it would show. ‘Let us learn the truth. It is time.’ He touched the screen. Robo closed his eyes and pictured Awg and Zert. Then he opened them and saw the future. Xurog’s huge bulk sagged against the back of his seat. On the screen, Robo traced the line with his finger. At first, almost parallel with the axis. Then, several ramps in the gradient, the line coursing steeply upwards. Until it began to approach a huge area of red covering the whole top section of the graph. Then an abrupt levelling off, and a gentle – but increasing – decline. Away from the red, away from catastrophe. Away from the end of all things. * Robo felt a scaly hand on his shoulder. ‘You do understand?’ Unable to speak, Robo nodded. ‘Yes. It is better than I dared hope. In our simulations, we

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found that there should be an equilibrium between the two worlds. Ulgor was somehow pumping Dark Matter against the gradient. So, if this ceased, the flow should level off – and then reverse – to restore the balance. And that is exactly what is happening. It seems that our calculations were correct. All is well. All … shall be well.’ * Robo somehow made his way back to the student village. He collapsed on his bed as waves of emotion overcame him. At last, utterly exhausted, he sank into a dreamless sleep.

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Eighty Two

Robo knew that, as far as planet Zero was concerned, he was on borrowed time. As soon as the plasma transport system was running normally again he would be sent home. Deported, as an undesirable alien. Exiled. In just a few days, he would leave this room, and Zero, for ever. He rummaged through the cupboard to see what Awg had left. There wasn’t much. Mainly, some of the Zeroian clothes that he had been given. But Robo did discover his own old rucksack, rescued by Awg from their room on Qun following Robo’s own sudden and accidental departure. Apart from stuff he remembered bringing from Earth, there seemed to be something quite bulky inside. He opened the main flap and took out his spare pair of Levi’s. Even then, he couldn’t think what they were wrapped around. He unwound the bundle. Three bronze-coloured metallic spheres joined together by a silver rod, the central sphere much larger than the outer ones and about the size of a cricket ball. Holy Jeez! How could he have forgotten that? It was his ticket home. He was about to roll the bundle up again when he saw the piece of paper. Hi Robo Hope this gets to you. Good luck Awg

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It got to him all right. * Still red-eyed, Robo pulled on some of the anonymous Zeroian clothes and went outside. If he survived the journey back (he knew there would be the usual risks), then he would be Earthbound for the rest of his life. So, he wanted to carry home with him the feeling of walking on another planet. Apart from the moon Astronauts, there were (as far as he knew) only three other people who would have had the same experience. He strolled slowly across the green, drinking everything in: the warm, dry air; the thick-leaved, greenish Zeroian grass; the strange shapes and colours of the Zeroian plants and trees. In the distance, he could see the sphere-and-tunnel outline of the spyridi city where Xurog and his colleagues would be hard at work. Nearby was the transport terminal where he would begin his strange journey home. Robo was not looking forward to it. He walked across to the University buildings with their multipurpose architecture. He passed the tall, rectangular communications centre with its roof of aerial antennae. Deep underground, the beacon signals from across the universe would be streaming in. Things were still very quiet, and, as he had hoped, Robo went about largely unnoticed. The variety of beings in the university city ensured that he did not stand out as particularly unusual. Once or twice he had the feeling that people were about to greet him, but as soon as his head of fair hair had registered, they edged away. He knew that he was being initially mistaken for Awg, whose untidy black mop was a pretty accurate identifier. Robo himself suffered a similar pain, because there were a few young spyridi about, and they all (to Robo) looked distressingly like Zert. Eventually, Robo found himself around the back of the campus, where there was one building that he particularly

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wanted to see. On its own, surrounded by a well-kept garden, stood the small house that Benedict had lived in for so many years. With its pitched roof and slit-like windows, it was quite unlike any other structure in the area. Robo had never visited it before and was curious to see inside. When he opened the door, he got a shock. Benedict’s furniture and simple possessions had been stacked up against the back wall, and a series of showcases – at present empty – had been installed around the room. In its centre was one of the communication devices that Robo had seen on the Nerians’ planet. Drawing on that experience, he placed his right hand on the finger platform, pleased that the movement caused him little effort. He had now recovered the feeling in the whole hand and could move all but his little finger. Robo stared into the machine. The screencube began to glow. Robo waited for the line of hieroglyphic symbols to appear, and then concentrated his mind on what they might mean. At once, the imagined display became intelligible. Welcome to the Hall of the Earth. This exhibit is in course of arrangement – please accept our apologies. When completed it will chronicle the history of communications between planet Earth (Dark Universe Object No. eodtndlp/3688902) and our own planet. You are standing in the dwelling formerly occupied by Garik (aka Benedict), the first contact. Please feel free to look around. See also exhibit 14 in the Hall of Memory. As he made his way back to his room in the student village, Robo couldn’t help wondering if he’d get a mention. Probably not. It wasn’t really his story.

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Eighty Three

It was time to leave. Robo rose from his seat by the window and opened the door. Vecju, servant to the former Patrician, was outside. He did not look very comfortable with his task. ‘No armed guard then?’ asked Robo. ‘Please don’t joke, Mr Jonathan. We’re sad to see you go.’ He stepped inside and picked up Robo’s rucksack. ‘Are you ready?’ Robo took a last look around the room. Awg’s room. ‘Yep. Shall we go?’ They set out across the Green. ‘The lady Asa would have liked to take you to the terminal herself – but, in the circumstances … ’ Robo quite understood the circumstances. ‘I wouldn’t expect the Patrician to be seen consorting with a convicted criminal,’ he said. ‘The doorman at the student residence told me she’s giving up the Palace. Is that really true?’ ‘She says it’s too big for her, and there are too many memories. But she has plans for it. It’s to be turned into a school.’ ‘So where is she going to live?’ ‘She is moving to the Town House. It’s a good choice. Not too large, and accustomed to catering for guests.’ ‘That’s it then. The end of the old regime.’ ‘I don’t look at it like that. For her, it’s just the beginning. She wants to make Zero how it should be – how it used to be, and her father imagined it still was. I served him faithfully, and I shall serve her until I die.’

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‘I shall be very happy to think she has you to look after her.’ ‘I have cared for her since she was a little child. But what of you? Do you have a family waiting for your return?’ ‘No. There’s no one – except Awg’s grandparents, Joseph and Annie. But I’ve got a beautiful girlfriend.’ ‘That is good. I hope you will have many children together.’ ‘Um … yeah. Maybe not just yet, though.’ * When they arrived at the transport terminal, Robo was astonished to find a giant figure waiting. ‘Xurog! I didn’t expect to see you again.’ ‘Asa asked me to come. But it was my intention to be here. I shall supervise your transfer personally. The procedure can be a little daunting. I think Awg was always a little unnerved by it. You have the Resonator?’ ‘Yes, he left it for me.’ They entered the transfer chamber, where a single bunk had been arranged centrally. Xurog showed Robo exactly where he wanted the Resonator to be placed, and then checked the focusing effect from the control room. When he returned, he handed Robo Awg’s watch. ‘A gift from your friend. It should provide a means of keeping in touch. Perhaps one day we will have news.’ ‘Xurog … my father?’ ‘I arranged for him to travel here from the Capital. But he has not come. I am sorry.’ Robo had expected as much, but he had still hoped. Xurog prepared to close the chamber. At the door, he turned for a moment. ‘Jonathan – remember me to Benedict. He made a perilous journey, and without the help he summoned all would have been lost.’ *

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Strapped into his bunk, and surrounded only by the darkness and silence of total isolation, Robo felt the fear rising within him. He knew only too well the hazards of plasma transport. So he started to count all the amazing things he knew that Awg had done, and he was still counting as the fear, and his consciousness, left him.

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Eighty Four

For every day in the month except one, the small church at Llanclynnog was usually empty and quiet. On alternate Fridays, Mrs Roberts came in to clean, and do the flowers. Occasionally, visitors stopped by to see the fourteenth century carved screen and to admire the Norman font, or to wonder at the medieval wall painting of Christ of the Trades that had been uncovered during repair work. So the timing was regrettable. Fortunately, there was a thunderstorm. It was the second Sunday in the month. The first Sunday was Medlicott, the third was Dolfawr and on the last Sunday in the month the service was held at Duffryn further down the valley. There was only one minister for all the churches. But today was the second Sunday, and the Reverend Elias Jenkins fought against the gusts of wind as he pedalled slowly up the long hill towards Llanclynnog. As a boy he had once, for a dare, gone tearing down that hill with no brakes. He still had the scars. The force of the wind increased. Ominous dark clouds were gathering overhead. The Reverend Jenkins pedalled on. Except at Christmas and Harvest Festival, there were rarely more than a dozen in his congregation. And today, the weather would persuade even a few of those to stay warm and dry at home. So there were not that many witnesses. Even so, it was the talking point of the four valleys for months to come.

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The first part of the service was uneventful enough. True, Mrs Herbert had mislaid the key of the harmonium, so they had been late starting – but that was all. But as the minister began his sermon, the storm arrived. The rain lashed down outside, and the Reverend Jenkins had to raise his voice against the howling of the wind. There was hardly a pause between the flash of the lightning and the roar of the thunder, so he knew the storm was almost overhead. Then there was an unusually bright light. In the confusion, no one seemed to notice that it was greenish in colour, or that there was no thunder afterwards. What they did notice was a cry from the back of the church. All heads turned. A boy lay spreadeagled on the stone floor. At once the church was full of questioning voices. ‘What’s he doing here?’ ‘How’d he get in?’ ‘Who is he, then?’ The boy tried to get up. He staggered a few steps, collided with one of the pews, and fell back to the floor. ‘What’s wrong with him?’ ‘He’s drunk!’ ‘Shocking. And on a Sunday, too.’ ‘Disgraceful!’ ‘No, he’s hurt. Look how he holds his arm. Perhaps he has been climbing up on the Mynydd Du.’ A kindly farmer’s wife from Duffryn who had two teenage sons herself put her arm around him and sat him up. ‘Now boyo, what is it that you’ve been up to?’ Robo tried to gather his thoughts. At that moment he couldn’t work out where he was, or where he’d come from. ‘I was … up high,’ he said. ‘And I fell.’ *

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The Reverend Elias Jenkins sat by the fire, a large black and white cat stretched out on his knee. He lived alone in a draughty old vicarage that was much too big for him. He knew that he had witnessed something rare and special, and he struggled to divine its meaning. His sermon had been on Faith and the Raising of Lazarus. He had been facing the congregation and was the only one who actually saw what had happened. He could see all the way down the nave to the porch entrance, and knew that the door had not opened. The day the hurt boy appeared in the church. Out of nowhere.

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Eighty Five

‘Just you?’ ‘Yeah. Just me. It’s over.’ ‘D’you mean everything’s going to be OK?’ ‘Not everything – but I think so.’ ‘Dear God!’ Gwen pulled the Landrover off the narrow road and switched off the engine. Huge sobs welled up in her throat. Robo put his arm around her and held her very tight. She stared. ‘W-What’s wrong with your hand?’ ‘War wound. Long story – tell you later.’ ‘Was it bad?’ ‘Awful. Hell. Loads of people dead. Poisoned, and all sorts.’ ‘Your dad … and the others?’ ‘Dad’s still alive. Awg and his friend Zert went off alone to attack the thing that was coming. We didn’t hear anything for weeks, then the thing disappeared.’ ‘Disappeared?’ ‘Well – began to fade. Xurog’s convinced it’s done for. He sent a sort of disintegrator with them, and they must have used that.’ ‘And Awg?’ ‘No one knows. I got injured so they sent me home. Dad decided to stay.’ ‘To stay – without you? For how long?’ ‘I don’t think he’ll ever come back. It’s what he wants.’ ‘But not what you want?’ ‘No. I want to be here.’

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‘Why?’ ‘Why d’you think? I’ve missed you so much. It’s been a long time.’ A long silence. ‘The woman who phoned our farm – Cath Morris – how did she find you?’ ‘I arrived from where I’d left – Llanclynnog church. Only it was in the middle of their service.’ ‘Gosh! What did everyone say?’ ‘No one actually saw me appear, so it wasn’t too awkward. They thought I’d had a climbing accident and stumbled into the church for help. One man thought I was drunk.’ ‘You must’ve been pretty bad.’ ‘It takes hours to get over these transfers – and I had no time at all. I couldn’t get my head around where I was or anything. Your Mrs Morris took pity on me and took me home with her to Duffryn.’ ‘Cath’s a good sort.’ ‘We’d better get back before your dad finds out you’ve got the Landrover again. Can you drop me at Bryn Castell?’ Gwen started the engine, then turned it off. ‘Jonathan – you know what you said about missing me, and how it’d been a long time?’ ‘Yeah … ’ ‘Just how long d’you think?’ ‘I don’t know exactly – but it’s been about three months.’ ‘I thought you might say that. Today’s the fifteenth of August. You’ve been away three weeks.’ As they drove slowly down to Llangarreg, Robo tried to take in what Gwen had said. She was obviously right. Three months would make it late autumn, yet the hedgerows still had their summer bloom. The blackberries weren’t even ripe, let alone over. So Benedict’s rule had been obeyed, but the two time systems had slipped out of synchronisation, even though the Resonator had been used for his transfer. Thank God it had been no worse! Robo remembered Awg’s tale of his own first

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return to Earth – and facing the horrifying possibility of having been projected hundreds or even thousands of years into the future. They pulled up outside the house – the house that was the tower of what once had been a castle. Gwen kissed Robo on the cheek. ‘Go easy with Annie and Joseph. They’re OK, but it’ll be a shock to them.’ ‘And Benedict?’ ‘Very frail. He doesn’t go out much now. They’ve made him a seat at the top of the garden where he can look into the priory, and he spends a lot of time there. I think he’s writing something.’ She was about to pull away when she called Robo back. ‘Yeah?’ ‘I just thought of something that Joseph told me yesterday. You know that funny clock? Like a black triangle.’ ‘The Old Curiosity?’ ‘Yes, that one. It’s started going again.’

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Eighty Six

Robo never forgot the look on Grandma Annie’s face as she opened the door. There was joy to see him but, at the same moment, the instinctive realisation that no one else would be coming. She turned towards the kitchen. ‘Joseph. Joseph. Jonathan’s come back!’ Robo went to bed. He slept for eighteen hours. * There was a late, slow and very extended breakfast. Then, with Gwen, Benedict, and Awg’s grandparents sitting around the table, Robo told his story. Except that he told them Sharibvdl had been killed by one of the zwnerba guards. He saw in Benedict’s face that he knew it was a lie. * In the afternoon, Robo went to sit with Benedict at the top of the garden. The reality of being home on Earth again was beginning to sink in, and he needed to talk to someone. ‘What the hell am I going to do?’ ‘About what?’ ‘About being … here. On Earth. Trying to be … normal. Can you imagine what it’ll be like going back to school? Fending off

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questions about Awg. Sitting there next to the people I sat with before, and listening to teachers droning on about differential equations and irregular verbs. And in my mind, I’ll be travelling through space, and meeting Nerians, and Xurog, and getting my hand cut off, and … ’ ‘… and killing Sharibvdl?’ ‘How did you know?’ ‘It was the only part of your story that did not ring true. By accident?’ ‘On purpose. And premeditated.’ ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ So Robo told Benedict the whole story. For a long time they sat in the quiet of the garden. Finally, Benedict asked, ‘Do you think that someone as bad as Sharibvdl deserved to die?’ ‘That’s what I thought. But now I don’t know any more. If you take someone’s life it’s the very worst sort of theft, because you take away their whole existence. And however evil you thought they were, you’ll never know if they might have changed.’ ‘Because you have taken away their chance of redemption.’ ‘Yes,’ said Robo. ‘Yes, that’s it. That’s the finality of it.’ ‘But do you think he would ever have reformed?’ ‘No. And I hated him for what he was and what he did. And part of me still isn’t sorry that I killed him. But it’s even worse – because I needn’t have done it. He would have died anyway, when Ulgor killed all the others – with the implants.’ Robo’s face folded into something between a sardonic smile and a grimace. ‘So you see, Benedict, this sort of thing doesn’t sit very happily with the irregular verbs … ’ Benedict thought for a long while before answering. What eventually followed for Robo owed a lot to the monk’s powers of quiet persuasion and to his wise counsel. More than anyone else, he understood what Robo had been through. ‘I can see that going back to Strenton would be very hard for you, but you may have to face up to it. The alternative would be

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for you to continue school here, but I don’t know if that would even be possible. ‘Of course, you would be near Gwen and her family, and it would make Joseph and Annie very happy to have you here. But is it what you would want?’ Robo was desperate for the chance to make a fresh start – to map out a new life for himself. So it was what he wanted more than anything else in the world. * There was much discussion between Joseph and Annie, Awg’s parents at Strenton, Gwen’s parents, and the school authorities. In due course it was settled that Robo would not go back to Awg’s school at Strenton, but would stay at Llangarreg. After a year at Colebury secondary, he could then continue at their sixth form college if his exam results were good enough. For his part, Robo was absolutely determined that they would be a great deal more than good enough. The question of actually getting to Colebury (which was eleven miles away) had worried Joseph, but it was also Gwen’s school. Each weekday she got a lift down into Pontrhyd to get the bus, and so Robo could do the same. The two of them were quite pleased with this arrangement. That left the problem of where Robo was to stay, since Benedict had the only spare room at Bryn Castell and Robo could not continue sleeping on the sofa in the living room. This was also surprisingly solved by Gwen’s parents, who had several spare rooms in their large farmhouse. They offered to provide Robo with bed and board, but in return he would have to earn his keep by working on the farm in his spare time. Gwen’s father agreed to take him on, subject to a fitness check on his hand. From his point of view it was a good way of getting some extra help. But he also wanted to find out how committed Robo really was, and whether he had the staying power necessary for life on a hill farm. He would soon

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discover that, in terms of hard work and perseverance, Robo was a man of steel. There was also a further development. After dinner one evening, Joseph cleared the table and brought out a file of papers. ‘Since you may be making your future around here, I wondered if you might want to invest some of your money in the area.’ ‘My Money?’ said Robo. ‘I don’t have any money. Well – none to speak of.’ Joseph passed a thick document over to Robo. It was headed by a firm of solicitors in Cambridge and told him that, since his father had now been officially declared missing, the ownership and royalties from a series of patents in his father’s name now passed to him. The sum of money involved was very considerable. ‘Did you know that Cowley Wood is up for sale?’ queried Joseph. ‘The one above Gwen’s farm?’ asked Robo. It was Benedict who answered. ‘When I first came to Llangarreg, this whole area was wooded. It was part of the great forest that covered the heart of Wales. Cowley Wood is one of the few pieces of ancient woodland left. It is to be sold by auction in about a fortnight.’ Then it was Annie’s turn. It was obviously something she felt very strongly about. ‘I don’t expect you’ve heard of TFP, but you’ll find those letters on boards all down the valley. They stand for Toomer’s Forest Products. They will try to buy Cowley Wood. If they succeed, they will fell all the saleable hardwood, strip out the rest and plant fast-growing conifers. That’s what they did to North Wood, down by Duffryn. There’s just a great scar on the hillside now, where once there were beautiful trees. That is what will happen above Gwen’s farm.’ ‘We’re going to try and prevent this,’ said Joseph. ‘I’m putting my savings into it and you could do the same. The Wood’s a

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valuable asset and with proper management could be made into a worthwhile business, so your money is safe.’ Robo had not the slightest doubt about his answer. ‘I didn’t know about this money, but this is exactly how I would want to use it. I owe a lot to Llangarreg, and I want to put something back.’ He knew it was what his Dad would have wanted, too – in the days when they were mates together and shared everything. The memory burned him like a brand.

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Eighty Seven

On the day of the auction, Joseph’s Morris Traveller ground slowly down the winding road into Pontrhyd. The sale was to be held in the Community Hall at eleven o’clock. As they bumped and swayed along, Robo sat hunched and silent, his knees tucked under his chin. He had walked up to the farm but come back alone. ‘No Gwen?’ asked Joseph, after a while. ‘She’s got jobs to do for her father and can’t come. I would’ve thought he’d let her off for today.’ The room was only about half full, which Joseph took as a good sign. A packed hall would have meant too much interest. Eleven o’clock came and went. The auction firm were evidently waiting for something. By 11.25 there were loud mutterings of annoyance and a few people were beginning to drift away. At 11.30, half an hour late, a rather red-faced auctioneer began proceedings. ‘Cowley Wood. Two hundred and seventy four acres of prime woodland standing on freehold land. The property is offered by Mr Beynon of Trefoel. Shall we start at the Reserve? Who will offer me the Reserve Price?’ Joseph raised his hand. ‘And five thousand? Bids in five thousands, please.’ A man near the front touched his hat. ‘The Reserve and five I am bid. Do I hear ten?’ Joseph raised his hand again. ‘And fifteen?’

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The man at the front once more touched his hat. Rather hesitantly. The person next to Joseph leant over. ‘That’s old Parsons from t’other side o’ the hill. He han’t got two ha’pence to scratch his backside. He’ll not last long.’ Sure enough, after Joseph’s counter bid, Parsons was silent. ‘This is the danger time,’ whispered Joseph to Robo. ‘This is where Toomers’ll come in. They wait till the locals have slugged it out, then they bid twenty thousand over the odds. Usually, nobody can match it. Including us.’ ‘My last bidder is Mr Bradley. Any advance on Mr Bradley’s offer?’ If a pin had dropped it would have been heard. ‘Going once.’ Robo held his breath. ‘Going twice.’ Robo closed his eyes. Crash! went the auctioneer’s hammer. ‘Sold to Mr Bradley of Llangarreg!’ Joseph and Robo let out whoops of triumph and hugged each other. Bursts of applause broke out across the hall. There was evidently surprise – and widespread approval – at the outcome. At that moment, the doors at the back of the hall burst open and two very angry men fell in. ‘Stop the auction! We demand that you stop the sale. Interested parties were not present.’ The auctioneer, now even redder in the face, spoke across the hushed hall. ‘I’m very sorry, Mr Strang. The Lot’s been sold. The sale’s finished. We delayed as long as ever we could.’ *

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It was a very popular result. Robo was surprised at the number of people who came up to congratulate them. One of them was Gwen’s father. ‘Whew! That’s a relief. I was dreading Toomers getting it. I need those trees for shelter. The westerlies’d blow me away, otherwise.’ ‘Those two men at the end …?’ asked Robo. ‘That was them. Mr Strang and Mr Burns, of Toomers Forest Products. We call’em Slash and Burn. Apparently, their car got a puncture. Serve’em right.’ He laughed. ‘Gwen coming home with you, then,’ he said, ‘or shall I take her?’ ‘She’s not here, Mr Evans,’ said Joseph. ‘We … rather understood that she was working at the farm.’ ‘No, ’course not. Not today. I thought she was with you.’ Robo’s brain was working overtime. ‘I think that after all she may have stayed with Grandma Annie,’ he said quickly. Joseph’s face broke into a smile. ‘Yes, I expect that’s it. Annie couldn’t face the excitement – and she would have welcomed a spot of company.’ * ‘Can you drop me off at the farm?’ asked Robo as they drove home. ‘I’ll walk back to Bryn Castell.’ He had a quick look around, but there was no one about. He went over to where the old Landrover was parked behind the barn and put his hand on the radiator. It was still warm. *

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Back home at the cottage, he found Gwen with Awg’s grandparents. ‘Has she been here all day?’ he asked, innocently. ‘Oh yes,’ said Annie. ‘All day. We had a nice long chat and made some scones. Poor Gwen, she was feeling very tired.’ Robo met Annie’s eyes and saw the mischief in them. ‘Yes, I suppose she didn’t want to be let down if the sale went badly.’ ‘No, that’s it. She felt there was just too much pressure.’ * ‘What did you do?’ ‘Annie helped. We guessed they’d take the little road over Elland hill, because it cuts off about four miles. ‘Annie waited where she could see them coming. When she waved, I put nails and tacks all across the road – in that wet bit at the bottom where they wouldn’t notice. Then as soon as Toomers’d passed I swept them all up into a bucket. ‘Putting out the right amount was quite tricky, ’cos I wanted them to get down the road a bit and out of sight before they stopped. But I knew I had to hit at least two of their tyres so they couldn’t just carry on with the spare.’

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Eighty Eight

Three weeks later, a bulky package arrived by registered post. Joseph opened it, checked its contents, and passed it to Robo. ‘I think you’d better take a look at this. It’s addressed to me but it’s for you.’ ‘What is it?’ ‘It’s the Title Deed for Cowley Wood – amongst other things.’ Robo took the documents and began to read. Even skipping the small print, it took him half an hour before he came back to Joseph. ‘I don’t understand. This isn’t just Cowley Wood. It’s the farm as well. They’ve got it all wrong. There isn’t nearly enough money to pay for all this. And who said the farm was for sale? And what about Gwen’s father? What does he think about it?’ ‘He doesn’t know. And perhaps it should stay that way for a while. It’s perhaps not a good idea for him to know that you’re now his landlord. He can still pay his rent to the Agent’s office. As far as he’s concerned, nothing’s changed.’ ‘I don’t understand any of this. What the hell’s been going on?’ ‘I’ve known old Beynon for a long time. He’s a bit of a skinflint, but his heart’s in the right place as far as his land’s concerned. When he heard about your interest in the Wood, he asked me to go and see him. He’s no friend of Toomers. ‘I had a long talk to him, and explained your situation – well, as much as I could. He said that he couldn’t stop the auction but he was prepared to help in another way. Then he told me he was thinking about selling the farm as well. He’d hesitated, because

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he was worried about the effect on his tenant – that’s Gwen’s father of course – if some speculator bought it. ‘To cut a long story short, he offered it to me. Not for a knockdown price. He wasn’t that generous. But for a fair market price. And, on our behalf, I said yes.’ ‘So, did you put up the money yourself?’ ‘No. I’d not got anything like that amount.’ ‘Then who did?’ ‘My son.’ ‘Awg’s father?’ Robo was stunned. ‘But why?’ ‘Why do you think? He and Amelia took you to their hearts. Like a brother for Awg, in fact. They were quite different people after that year with the two of you in their house. And after they’d talked to the Archbishop … ’ ‘After they’d what?’ ‘Of course – you didn’t know about that. Benedict wrote to the Archbishop, giving an account of what has happened and the part that Awg played in it. Dr Hughes was so moved that he arranged to visit Thomas and Amelia at their home. He knew there could be no official recognition of what Awg has done, so he was determined to make the effort himself. I gather it was a very special occasion.’ Joseph and Robo climbed the stair that spiralled up between the inner and outer walls of the tower that was Bryn Castell. They sat on the ledge beside one of the tall windows. The sunlight flooded in. ‘I remember the very first time I came up here with Awg,’ said Robo. ‘He’d told me you could look out over the whole of Wales, and I didn’t believe him. Well, it’s true – or very nearly.’ ‘You can’t quite see Gwen’s farmhouse because there are trees in the way,’ said Joseph, ‘but you can see the yard and the view across the fields.’ ‘Benedict told me there was a farm here when he first came to Llangarreg. Not the present buildings, of course, but it was a farm. That means people have been working the land there for over six hundred years.’

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‘And don’t forget Caer Dun at the top of the hill.’ ‘The Iron Age camp? Is that on the farm’s land?’ ‘Yes, your land goes all the way to the hilltop and half way down the other side. So that takes you back another fifteen hundred years at least. You’ve a long tradition to protect. ‘Now go and see Gwen and tell her what’s happened. Your life’s not going to be easy and you’ve got a lot to learn. But you’ll not be on your own. You’ll have to stick at your work at school and on the farm, and then there’ll be college.’ Robo thought for a minute. ‘Joseph,’ he said, ‘that college in Colebury – do you think they do a course in forestry?’ * Archbishop Hughes sat in his office at Lambeth Palace. For the fiftieth time, he read through the letter he had received from Benedict. Even now, he could scarcely believe its contents. Two young people had saved the world from destruction, and nobody knew anything about it. He began to wonder how many times something similar had happened before. He was beginning to suspect that the world lived in blissful ignorance on the edge of a knife.

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Eighty Nine

In a distant universe, a lone starship travelled silently on between galaxies of unknown stars. A particularly beautiful spacecraft, it passed through the lifeless void like a shining silver arrow. It glided safely through plumes of unrecorded nebulae, weaved skilfully and automatically through anonymous showers of glistening micro-asteroids, and slipped without harm through the wake of a nameless passing comet. At one point, it reconfigured itself into the form of two concentric spheres in order to negotiate a particularly tricky patch of interstellar debris. Inside, two friends were charting the latest stages of their journey, recording their observations in the ship’s log, and occasionally playing hangman. ‘It’s the 219th day of our mission.’ ‘Izzat Earth days or Zero days?’ ‘I do it in Earth days. I know there’s not much difference* but it somehow helps me to feel better about it. ‘No sweat. We can do what we likes. ’s only this time – our own time – that’s got any meanin’ for us.’ ‘Have you finished going through the Nerians’ book?’ ‘Yeah. I mapped everythin’ we seen an’ checked it ’gainst their data.’ * 1 Zero day = approx. 22 Earth hours

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‘Any hits?’ ‘Zilch. So, wherever we are, nobody from our universe’s bin there before.’ ‘D’you think there’s any way back?’ ‘Def ’nitely not the way we come in.’ ‘You’ve had a look at the prism?’ ‘Nothin’ left of it. Musta liked the look o’ some o’ the dimensions it found an’ decided to retire there.’ ‘So there’s no way we can tell what it did – whether or not it zapped Ulgor into the dustbin of infinity?’ ‘’Fraid not. Unless you gotta Ulgorometer or somethin’.’ ‘A what?’ ‘Only jokin’. Somethin’ that measures Ulgors. To see if their time ran out.’ It was a lucky choice of words. Awg shot over to the locker where his remaining possessions were kept. He took out his rucksack, and from it the carefully wrapped bundle. He unwound the tee shirt, and gazed in wonder at Benedict’s hourglass. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘Look at the sand – the meteorite!’ The grains inside the glass, which had faded to a dull grey when Zero’s beam systems began to fail, were now a shining, iridescent white. ‘What do you think it means?’ asked Awg. Zert thought for a moment, and then said, ‘I thinks it means that … it’s OK. That things is all right. That Zero’s recoverin’. That the matter in the two universes is driftin’ apart again.’ ‘But how does it know? We don’t know where the hell we are, or what’s around us. It could be just be responding to some stray electromagnetic field or something.’ ‘Don’ think so. I gotta good feelin’ ’bout it.’ ‘It was certainly a pretty amazing meteorite.’ ‘If it was a meteorite … ’ ‘What?’ ‘Think ’bout it. ’bout how it behaves. ’bout what happened to Benedict on the top o’ that mountain. ’bout the whole thing.

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A rock that contained iridonium – a metal that’s so rare. An’, remember – we don’ know what the structure o’ that ‘rock’ was. There’s no record of it. What we do know is it gave the Zeroians o’ that time th’idea for the Resonators. So I’m guessin’ it warn’t just a lump o’ rock. I’m guessin’ it had some sort o’ organisation, or design.’ ‘So if it wasn’t a meteorite, what was it?’ ‘Well – I dunno, o’ course. But my guess is, it was a device – a probe o’ some sort.’ ‘But where from?’ ‘Who knows? There’s dozens o’ life forms dotted round Zero’s universe – an’ prob’bly Earth’s too, only you han’t found ’em so far. An’ sure to be loads in other universes that we don’ know ’bout yet.’ ‘Like this one?’ Zert rocked from side to side, clicking in amusement. ‘Yeah. P’rhaps like this one. An’ the thing all these guys wanna know is – is there anyone else out there? So, as soon as they gets a bit of technology together, they starts tryin’ to find out – searchin’ the skies, beamin’ out messages, firin’ off probes an’ so on. I bet Benedict’s meteorite was one of ’em.’ ‘What was it was supposed to do, then?’ ‘Dunno. But we know what it did. What the senders orig’nally intended is anyone’s guess. Some o’ these probes is jus’ statements – like ‘this is us’. Some’s investigative, like they got cameras or spectroscopes on board. An’ some’s active, like they’re supposed to do somethin’ to whoever finds ’em.’ ‘Zert … ’ ‘Yep?’ ‘Suppose it just did. I mean, we’ve not been thinking about the hourglass at all. Almost forgotten we had it with us. What if it’s had some influence on what’s been happening – on where we are? Perhaps we’re in it’s universe.’ ‘Maybe we’ll find out. I can tell you one thing, though. It didn’t do it all on its own. Don’ you remember what I said, jus’ before you hit the button?’

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‘No, I don’t. My mind was on other things – our imminent deaths being fairly high up the list.’ ‘I said I’d decided to couple Xurog’s prism into the Wormhole Drive.’ ‘OK. So?’ ‘That meant the ship would set its course down any wormhole the prism opened up. The ol’ Star’s gotta very effective self-preservation system. It’s not just go-a-bit-to-the-left-toavoid-this-asteroid. It was the best technology o’ its time an’ the catastrophe sensors were state o’ the art. If there was any way at all to avoid endin’ up as spacecraft toast, I knew the ol’ Star’d find it. So – here we are. ‘We’re alive. We got the finest spaceship ever built. We got food an’ stuff virtually for ever, even if it is recycled an’ borin’. We gotta new universe in front o’ us – whole new worlds to explore. Amazin’ stuff to discover.’ Just for a second, Awg was overwhelmed. ‘By just wandering in space? What about us?’ Zert clicked in amusement and thumped him on the back. ‘We don’ matter. We never mattered. It’s what we done that mattered. And it looks like what we done was enough. Enough to save the two universes an’ give the rest o’ lifekind a chance o’ a future. ‘And we gotta future too. It’s not what we ’spected an’ maybe not what we wanted, but it’s what we got. We just gotta get used to it.’

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