Commit GregTime#Three. Nobody else was ever this honest with her about themselves. It must mean he felt something, even if it was only a variant of parental concern. "Why don't you have it taken out, if it's that bad?"

"I'm a psi-junkie, Julia. I couldn't give up the gland any more than you could give up eyes. Once it's in, you're hooked. But if I was living my life again I'd run a million miles rather than have a gland."

She nodded with earnest sympathy. "I didn't realise. I thought one might help me run Event Horizon, show me who was disloyal. I took the assessment tests and came out esp positive. Grandpa was furious."

"You'd be spreading yourself too thin. Run with what you've got, Julia. Event Horizon is going to demand every scrap of your attention. You can always hire specialists like me to combat specific problems."

"But how do I know who to trust?" she whispered insistently.

His fingers found her chin, tilting her head up. "That's everybody's problem, Julia, not just yours. It's an unending question. People change, someone who you could entrust with the crown jewels one day will sell out for a pound the next. You want my advice? Put your faith in Morgan Walshaw. Strange as it may sound, people like that need someone to work for. So long as you don't evolve into some kind of irresponsible playgirl he'll remain loyal."

She pulled a face. "Morgan? God!"

"Just remember, loyalty doesn't mean slavish obedience. If he disagrees with you on some issue he won't be doing it simply to spite you. Ask him to explain his reasons, and listen to the answer."

"You're worse than Grandpa," she moaned.

"Life's a bitch, then you die. No messing." He grinned, and started down the stairs again.

She walked in silence with him until they reached the hall. The air was cooler in the big vaulting chamber, its black and white marble tiles drawing away April's dry heat.

"Greg… there's something else."

"Hey, what am I, your confessor?"

"No, this is about the blitz." She knew he'd changed, hardening somehow. It was like she'd spoken a codeword, switching his mind from levity to total attention.

She started to tell him about Kendric, the buyout, her threat; speaking rationally, without rancour. And doing it that way made her mortified by how petty she sounded. What was it Kendric had said? Schoolgirl temper-tantrum.

"I couldn't let him go unpunished," she said. "He set out to destroy everything Grandpa spent fifty years of his life building, not to mention my future."

Greg looked troubled, staring at one of the Turner landscapes without seeing it.

"Do you think I was right?" she asked nervously.

"Yeah, probably. I'd have done the same, I think."

"So the blitz might have been Kendric's vendetta against Grandpa and me? Nothing to do with the giga-conductor."

"Could be. But I think it's reasonable to assume Kendric is involved up to his neck; he's certainly my first choice. This possible mole implicates him directly."

"You keep calling him 'possible'."

"Yeah. It's almost too easy to write everything off on to one master-spy. But the evidence is pretty strong. Who knows? And now I think about it, this whole giga-conductor thing adds a new dimension to the memox-spoiler operation. Kendric was more than likely after the patent the whole while, that was the asset he really wanted to strip."

"That's what I thought. But I couldn't tell you at the time. Sorry."

"No problem. I didn't need to know. Tell me, exactly when did Dr. Ranasfari crack the giga-conductor?"

"Tenth of November." She didn't have to query the nodes, the date was ingrained. The last time she'd seen Grandpa really happy.

He sat slowly on an old monk's bench, thinking hard. She hovered, agitated. Wanting to know what he was mulling over, unwilling to interrupt. The hall's silence amplified every sound as she fidgeted.

"Halfway through the memox spoiler," Greg mused. "So it had already been working for a few months. The thing is, if the mole, or whoever, had already breached the security cordon around Ranasfari, then it's odds on that it was Kendric, or Kendric got word of it. Pirate data traffic is his speciality, after all. Tell me, would he have known in advance that Ranasfari was going to crack the giga-conductor? What I mean is, was the breakthrough sudden?"

"Not really. Ranasfari has been working on the project for a decade, he was confident of a positive result for almost a year beforehand. Then he produced a cryogenic giga-conductor last May. A room-temperature version was only a matter of time after that; a lightware cruncher problem, solving the chemical make-up, rather than any revelation in fundamental physics."

"Yeah, I figured something along those lines. You see, ten years is a hell of a long time to keep something hushed up. If the mole informed Kendric about the cryogenic prototype, then he would have had time to organise the memox crystal spoiler. The dates certainly fit."

"But you don't think so?"

"Not sure."

"Why?"

"If Kendric knew about the giga-conductor, why did he authorise your buyout of the di Girolamo house?"

"I told you, I blackmailed him."

"A couple of billion Eurofrancs each year, that's what your grandfather said the giga-conductor royalty licence brings in, is that right?"

"Yah, in fact it's a conservative estimate."

"So answer me this: with an eight per cent stake in Event Horizon, which you could never legally make him give up, why should Kendric worry about his family house being dragged through the mud? In fact, you would've looked pretty bloody silly if he hadn't knuckled under; exposing one of your own financial backers as a shark, then still having to cut them in on a share of your giga-conductor profits."

The nodes turned the problem into neat packages of equations for her. Greg and the hall slipped away as she pushed them through a logic matrix. They began to develop a life of their own, the channels unable to confine them, twisting out of alignment. The instability began to absorb more and more of the nodes' processing power. She scrambled to maintain cohesion, loosening the parameters, adding additional channels. But her mind originated nothing ingenious enough to halt the imminent collapse. She observed helplessly as the channels wound in on themselves, constricting in ever-tighter curves, sealing the data packages in closed loops.

The bioware-generated edifice crumpled beyond salvation. Her imagination invested the scene with sound. From a vast distance she could hear a cathedral of glass slowly toppling over.

"Kendric couldn't have known about the giga-conductor," she said finally.

"You reckon?"

"Yah. No. Not really. It's a paradox, you see, he must've known, yet he couldn't have."

"That's the way I see it." He seemed ridiculously cheerful. "Know what we're going to do about it, Julia?"

"What?"

"Put Kendric at the top of the suspect list, then forget about him. Concentrate on tracking down the source of the leaks. When I've done that I'll see where they lead. Then we might begin to understand the game he's playing."

She wasn't certain any more. Problems should be logical, solutions readily available. The pride she'd possessed in her own ability was dented: the nodes had always been a bulwark in her defence against other people, elevating her soul. No matter appearances and social awkwardness, she knew she was superior. Now this. Unable to provide her with an answer for the first time. And it was an answer which was utterly critical.

But Greg didn't seem unduly bothered, which gave her a certain degree of confidence. The guilt that this might have been all her fault was dissipating. What more had she been expecting from him?

He rose from the black-polished bench. "Couple of days, week at the most, and it'll all be over, no messing. You can look back and laugh."