“I thought you said you’d got a shadow program loaded in the security arrays?”

“I have.”

“Then you must have copies of his codes. You can take command of the section’s network, shut it all down.”

“Not a chance. Now he’s in the network, he’s installing his own management routines. The shadow program is gradually being locked out.”

“Shit!” Alic thumped his fist down on the desk, wincing at the burst of pain from his burns. “All right, Edmund, are you armed?”

“Yeah, an ion pistol, Colt8000, eighty percent charge. I don’t think it’ll be much use against him. I accessed the warrant you issued. That wetwiring he’s got is heavy duty.”

“Listen, we’re coming to get you.”

“Ha! The wormhole to Boongate is closed. CST isn’t going to open it now; people would get back into the Commonwealth, Sheldon and Doi want to force everyone into the future. The only way you’re going to get to me is in twenty years’ time.”

“Unacceptable,” Vic said. The finality in the big man’s voice was intimidating.

“We’ll get you out of there, I promise,” Alic told Edmund, “even if we have to take a starship to Boongate. Now listen, I want you to keep this link open permanently. Transfer through all the data your shadow program has captured. Then I’m going to connect you up with someone in our technical department; they’ll see if there’s any way you can use your ion pistol to physically disable the force field generator.”

“You’re kidding. It’s in a building about three hundred meters from this one.”

“Okay, what about armor and force field suits? The security department must have some?”

“Sure. Up there where he is.”

“Then we’ll bring in a tactical expert to analyze your situation. Stay calm, we will get you through this.”

“If you say so. But I’d like to download my memories into a secure store if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, we’ll set one up right now.” He clicked his fingers at Matthew Oldfield, who gave a hurried nod.

“Do you know why Tarlo’s here?” Edmund asked.

“No, we don’t.”

“You can tell me, you know. It’s not like I’m going to be leaking classified information to anyone right now.”

“We genuinely don’t know, but it must be connected to Far Away somehow.”

“Yeah. I figured he’s here to help the Starflyer get home.”

“What do you know about the Starflyer?” Alic asked in surprise. Am I the only one who didn’t know it was real?

“Nothing much, really. There’s been some weird things happening on Far Away lately. It would make sense, that’s all.”

“You’re probably right. Listen, I’m going to leave you with my team now, okay? I’ll start working on a way to get to Boongate.”

“How?” Vic asked.

Alic stood up. “The Admiral. He’s got the clout to get us through.”

“Ha! He’s not going to accept this.”

“If he doesn’t accept this, then I quit.” He looked around at their startled faces, the faint smiles of approval. “It’s not much of a threat, I know. But it’s the only one I’ve got.”

“Then you tell him we quit with you,” John King said. The rest of them said, “Hell yes” and “Me, too.”

Vic put his hand on Alic’s shoulder. “Good luck. And thanks, Boss.”

When the door to Alic’s office shut, he had to sit down quickly and blow out a long breath. There was only so far impetuosity could carry you. The team was looking in at him through the glass. It actually felt very good indeed.

Oh, what the hell. That bastard Tarlo tried to kill me. That makes it personal.

His virtual finger touched the Admiral’s icon. No hesitation, he was pleased to see. The Admiral’s e-butler told Alic that his access level had been reduced to grade seven. “I’ll wait,” he told the program.

It took two and a half hours before Rafael Columbia responded. “I can give you five minutes,” he told Alic.

“We’ve located Tarlo.”

“Then arrest him.”

“He’s on Boongate.”

“Screw. It’ll have to wait, Hogan. We’ll grab him when he comes out wherever Sheldon sends him.”

“We need him now, sir. He’s a Starflyer agent.” Alic closed his eyes, half expecting a lightning bolt to slam down out of the sky and roast him behind his desk.

“Christ, not you, too? I thought you were reliable.”

“I am reliable, sir; that’s why I’m telling you this. Think about it. Tarlo’s a traitor, a double agent, that’s beyond question; I was one of the people he was shooting at on Illuminatus. Who is he working for, sir? If not the Starflyer, who is trying to destroy the Commonwealth? Tell me. Give me another name, and I’ll chase them for as long as it takes.”

There was a long pause. “You can’t get to Boongate,” the Admiral said. “This is classified, but the wormholes to the Second48 will not be reopened. The War Cabinet decided we cannot risk a stampede back into the Commonwealth. Those populations must go into the future.”

“You have the authority, sir. You can get CST to open the Boongate wormhole for us. My team and I will stay on Boongate afterward and go into the future with the rest of the population. But we must get there before the evacuation. We must establish the Starflyer’s intent. The navy needs to know. Surely you must see that?”

“You really believe it, don’t you?”

“We all do, sir.”

“Very well, Hogan, if this is to happen it doesn’t get put in the files until there’s a successful conclusion. Nonnegotiable.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Good. Put your arrest team together and get over to Wessex. I’ll see what I can do at this end.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“And, Hogan, if you’re wrong, stay on Boongate. There will be no future for you, not anywhere at any time. Understand?”

“Understood, sir.”

***

Mellanie walked down the mansion’s broad corridor with her black lacy robe flowing out behind her. The sculpted swan wall lights were turned down to a rouge glimmer, deepening the shadows between the arches. It was two o’clock in the morning, and no one else was about.

Guilt at what she was doing only made it more exciting. Morton hadn’t stirred when she left their room. Randtown had left him more tired than he was willing to admit.

The door opened before she even tapped on it. Nigel was standing there, dressed in a loosely tied emerald bathrobe. The greedy smile on his face was one she’d seen on men countless times before—she’d thought it might be different with him. He took her hand, and hurriedly pulled her into the bedroom.

“What—” she began.

“I wouldn’t want my wives to get jealous,” he murmured as he gave the corridor a theatrical check before closing the door.

“They’re not, so don’t pretend they are.”

“Okay.” He was pressed up against her, hands removing her gown. His mouth moved to hers.

Mellanie planted a hand on his chest and pushed them apart. “Are you going to say hello, first?”

“Don’t play the Victorian bride. You came to me.” He grinned, and walked over to the huge bed. “Now come here.” He patted the furry mattress, which rippled sluggishly.

“What is this, your main orgy room?” she asked archly.

“It would be your room.”

She gave the classic white and purple décor an appreciative glance as she went over to sit beside him. “Nice, I guess.”

“Course, we’d have orgies in it. Seriously.”

She had to laugh, he was so outrageous, and honest. “Yes, I know. I met Aurelie earlier. Talk about making a girl feel inferior. And she didn’t even need reprofiling to look like that.”

“You see, you even like my other wives. What more of an incentive do you need?” His hand slipped off one of her negligée’s shoulder straps and moved down to the exposed breast.

“This is very flattering, Nigel.”

“I want it to be pleasurable, not flattering.”

Mellanie moaned hungrily. He’d got her other shoulder strap off; the negligée crumpled around her waist. His hands knew exactly how to move over her skin, the way she had to spend forever teaching other men. “It already is,” she confessed.