Mellanie’s face hardened. “As you wish, Mr. Bose.”

“They…they have somewhere we can use,” Dudley said, looking up at the alien’s sensor stalks, his face pleading. “A medical facility. We can start right away.”

“Very well,” the Bose motile said.

Dudley’s head moved around in short jerks as if it were robotic. He focused on one of the medical team in the hugely attentive audience. “You. You said there was a treatment room.”

“Yes.” The woman walked over, and tipped her head up to gaze at the alien’s sensor stalks with an awed expression on her face. She took in the electronic module merged with its flesh, the optical cable linking that to the array. “I don’t know if this will work.”

“Trust me,” the Bose motile said. “This body is built around the concept of memory transfer. It’s just a question of modifying the interface.”

“Okay, then. This way.” She led the human and motile Bose toward one of the airlock doors. Five of the security personnel fell in around them, carbines not quite pointing at the motile as it waddled along, but close. Just before it reached the door, the Bose motile bent a sensor stalk around toward Mellanie. “Pleased to meet you, by the way. I can see I’m a lucky man, if somewhat ungrateful at this moment. I would enjoy talking to you later.”

Mellanie gave the alien a pleasant smile. “I’ll look forward to it, Dudley.”

“What do you mean, ungrateful?” Dudley’s whiny voice asked as they went through the door. “And what business is it of yours?”

“Never a dull moment with Mellanie,” a voice said cheerfully in Morton’s ear.

Morton turned, and did a fast double take. Nigel Sheldon was standing beside him.

“She said she had allies,” Morton said sardonically.

“She wasn’t joking.” Nigel gave the closed wormhole a nostalgic glance. “You might want to go back when she’s finished explaining what’s going on.”

“I doubt it. Where are we, exactly?”

“Augusta.” He gave Simon a short bow. “Mr. Rand, I’ve heard good things about you. I’m sorry for your loss. Randtown was a lovely concept.”

“Mr. Sheldon,” Simon replied gravely. “Thank you for your assistance.”

“Thank Mellanie. Now, we have baths, food, and answers waiting for you. Take them in any order you want.”

“All at once,” Morton said. He went over to where Mellanie was staring at the open airlock, and put his arm around her. She grinned distantly, then glanced over at Nigel with an expression that was as confused as it was worried.

“Give me an answer when you’re ready,” Nigel said to her. There was a slight edge to his voice.

Rob turned to the Cat as everyone started to move out of the big chamber. “I don’t get it,” he complained. “She’s got Morton wrapped around her little finger. That looked like Sheldon has the hots for her, too. They say Michelangelo beds every assistant on his show, male or female. So what the fuck does she see in Bose?”

***

Alic Hogan had stopped wincing and sighing each time he squirmed in his seat. Every part of his body was in some kind of pain; movement created innumerable additional twinges. He couldn’t take too many drugs if he wanted to retain his mental acuity. Healskin wasn’t nearly the soft cushion its manufacturers claimed.

Just being alive was awful.

Nobody in the Paris office paid any attention to his misery. Half of them had suffered worse injuries than he on Illuminatus. Except Vic, of course. Vic was in a very different kind of pain. The big man sat at his desk for hour after hour, ripping through data like a metavirus. All of them were back reviewing Tarlo’s files, hunting for any clues that might lead them to him. A forensic team was going through his apartment, analyzing everything from his toothgell to the DNA in hair; just something—anything—that would tell them how he had been taken over by the Starflyer.

Jim Nwan handed cups of coffee around to the people working at the nest of desks they’d shoved together in the middle of the room. Alic took his without looking up from the results of the DRNG bonds; Tarlo had been quite diligent about tracing them, working up files on the buyers. None of which had been shown to Alic. But I bet the Starflyer got them all.

His coffee was just right, no sugar and a dash of cream. Acceptance was the one decent result to come out of Illuminatus; he was one of the Paris team now. Strange how much that meant to him. Strange the way loyalties shifted. Alic accepted the Starflyer’s existence now. So much of what had happened made sense once the alien’s influence was factored in. Not that he’d told the Admiral yet. The way Wilson Kime had been fired by the War Cabinet had sent a real shock wave through the navy. Even the Paris office that had always been under Columbia’s command thought the way in which Kime had been turned into a scapegoat was despicably shabby. Though the only real subject they talked about was the time travel project.

“I can’t find a damn thing on the Baron observation,” John King complained. “He must have wiped them.”

Alic glanced over at the big wall-mounted portal that was playing the Michelangelo show. Senator Goldreich was the guest, explaining how the fresh worlds would be prepared for the refugees. His e-butler changed the access to Alessandra Baron. Her guest was a pale man called Dimitri Leopoldovich, who was discussing what tactics the navy should use to engage the thousands of Prime warships remaining in the Commonwealth.

“Call the observation team direct,” Alic told John. “Get them to send copies of their reports.”

He gave the portal an evil look. God alone knew what harm Baron was causing in the long run. Now that he listened to her, really listened, he was sure he could hear nothing but contempt and mockery for everything the navy had done. She was hacking away at people’s confidence, undermining authority. All under the disguise of tough interviewing.

His e-butler told him a secure call was coming into the office for Renne. A file ran down his virtual vision, giving him Edmund Li’s record. The fact that he was from Boongate was enough to interest Alic. “Give it to me,” he told his e-butler.

“I was trying to reach Renne,” Edmund Li said.

“She’s not available,” Alic told him. Morale in the office hadn’t been helped when they all found out that there wasn’t a clinic place anywhere in the Commonwealth to re-life her; the most optimistic estimate was seven years before a slot became open. Everyone was backlogged with bodyloss victims from the Lost23; and that was before the new invasion. “I’m her commanding officer. What’s the problem?”

“Tarlo’s here.”

Alic snapped his fingers for everyone’s attention as he opened the call to a general link around his team. “How do you know?”

“Because he’s up in my office right now.”

“Where are you? What’s your office?”

“I’m at the Boongate planetary station, in the Far Away section. Right now I’m holed up in the Carbon Goose flight office in the administration block, ground floor. Tarlo is in the security office on the third floor. I managed to get a shadow scrutineer program loaded so I can follow what he’s doing.”

“How many people have you got with you?” Alic asked.

“None.”

“What?”

“There’s nobody else here. Just me and him. As far as I know, we’re the only people in the whole Far Away section.”

“Christ!” Alic could see his own dismay mirrored in the faces of the team around him. “What’s he doing?”

“Taking over the security systems which guard the perimeter. There are a lot of weapons here; they were installed in case anything hostile ever got through from Far Away. Old-fashioned stuff, but it still packs a punch. And he’s established complete control over the force field; there’s no way in and no way out. I’ve disabled a couple of the sensors in the room I’m using so he can’t see me; but if I move from here the building’s internal sensors will pinpoint me instantly.”