'Alas not,' replied the Cat. 'Jurisfiction has no jurisdiction over real people in the real world. As I said, it's all up to Thursday now.'

The Cat stopped and repeated the two words as if to see which sounded better. 'Jurisfiction —jurisdiction —Jurisfiction —jurisdiction.'

Kaine and I stared at one another. If he was real it definitely meant Jurisfiction had no mandate to control him — and it also meant we couldn't destroy him through his book. But then he couldn't escape from the real world, either — and would bleed and die and age like a real man. Kaine started to laugh.

'Well, this is a turnaround! Thank you very much, Mr Cat!' The Cat gave a contemptuous snort and turned to face the other direction. 'You have done me a great service,' continued Kaine. 'I am now free to lead this country to new heights without the meddling of you and your fictional band of idiots. I'll be free to put behind me the last vestiges of kindness that I was forced to carry in regard of my written character. Mr Cat, I thank you, and the people of the unified Britain thank you.' He laughed again and turned to me. 'And you, Miss Next, won't be able to even get close!'

'There's still the seventh Revealment,' I said rather weakly.

'Win the Superhoop? With that ragtag bunch of no-hopers? I think you grossly overrate your chances, my lady — and with Goliath and the ovinator to help me, I can't begin to overestimate mine!'

And he laughed again, looked at his watch and walked briskly from the hangar. We heard his car start up and drive away.

'Sorry,' said the Cat, still looking the other way. 'I had to think of something quickly. At least this way he didn't win — tonight.'

I sighed.

'You did well, Chesh — I would never have thought of invoking the Blue Fairy.'

'It was quite good, wasn't it?' agreed the Cat. 'Can you smell hot buttered crumpets?'

'No.'

'Me neither. Who are you going to put in mid-field?'

'Biffo, probably,' I said slowly, picking up my automatic from where it had fallen and replacing the clip. 'And Stig as roquet-taker.'

'Ah. Well, good luck and see you soon,' said the Cat, and vanished.

I sighed and looked around at the quiet and empty hangar. The fictional gore and corpses of the Medusa, the Tyrannosaurus and Beowulf had vanished, and apart from the wrecked airship, there was no evidence of the battle that had been fought here. We had scored a victory against Kaine, but not the total victory I had hoped for. I was just walking back towards the exit when I noticed that the Cat had reappeared, balanced on the handle of a pallet trolley.

'Did you say Stig, or fig?' said the Cat.

'I said Stig,' I replied, 'and I wish you wouldn't keep appearing and vanishing so suddenly: you make one quite giddy.'

'All right,' said the Cat; and this time it vanished quite slowly, beginning with the end of the tail, and ending with the grin, which remained some time after the rest of it had gone.

I arrived at the croquet stadium at eight. The fans were already waiting at the turnstiles, hoping to get the best seats in the stands. I was waved past and parked my Speedster in the manager's parking spot, then made my way into the changing rooms. Aubrey was waiting there for me, pacing up and down.

'Well?' he said. 'Where's our team?'

'They'll be here at one o'clock.'

'Can't we get them here earlier?' he asked. 'We need to discuss tactics.'

'No,' I said firmly. 'They'll be here on time. It's senseless to try and impose human time constraints on them. They're playing on our side, that's the main thing.'

'Okay,' agreed Aubrey reluctantly. 'Have you met Penelope Hrah?'

Penelope was a large and powerful woman who looked as though she could crack walnuts with her eyelids. She had taken up croquet because hockey wasn't violent enough, and although at thirty-two she was at the end of her career, she might prove an asset — as a terror weapon, if nothing else. She scared me — and I was on the same team.

'Hello, Penelope,' I said nervously, 'I really appreciate you joining us.'

'Urg.'

'Everything okay? Can I get you something?'

She grunted again and I rubbed my hands together anxiously.

'Right, well, leave you to it, then.'

I left her to talk strategy with Alf and Aubrey. I spent the next couple of hours doing interviews and ensuring that the team's lawyers were up to speed on the game's complex legal procedures. At midday Landen and Friday arrived with Mycroft, Polly and my mother. I took them down to the seating reserved for the VIPs just behind the players' benches and sat them down next to Joffy and Miles, who had arrived earlier.

'Is Swindon going to win?' asked Polly.

'I hope so,' I said, not brimming with confidence.

'The problem with you, Thursday,' put in Joffy, 'is that you have no faith. We in the Idolatry Friends of St Zvlkx have complete faith in the Revealments. Lose and Goliath move to new heights of human exploitation and unfathomable avarice, hidden among the trappings of religious formality and perverted ecclesiastical dogma.'

'That was a very good speech.'

'Yes, I thought so too. I was practising on the march last night. Don't feel you're under any pressure now.'

'Thanks for nothing. Where's Hamlet?'

'He said he'd join us later.'

I left them to do a live broadcast with Lydia Startright, who was really more interested in knowing where I had been for the past

two and a half years than asking me about Swindon's chances. After this I hurried down to the players' entrance to welcome Stig -who was playing — and the four other Neanderthals. They were completely unfazed by the media attention and ignored the phalanx of pressmen completely. I thanked them for joining our team and Stig pointed out that they were there only because that was part of the deal, and nothing more.

I walked them towards the changing rooms, where the human team members greeted them with a good measure of curiosity. They talked haltingly with one another, the Neanderthals confining their speech to the technical aspects of croquet play. It was of no matter or consequence to them whether they won or lost — they would simply do the best they could. They refused body armour as they preferred instead to play barefoot in shorts and brightly coloured Hawaiian shirts. This caused a slight problem with the Toast Marketing Board, who had insisted that their name be on the team strip, but I smoothed it over with them eventually, and all was well. There was less than ten minutes before we were due out, so Aubrey made a stirring speech to the team that the Neanderthals didn't really comprehend. Stig, whose understanding of humans was perhaps a little better than most, just told them to 'hoop as much as we can', which they understood.

'Miss Next?'

I turned to find a thin, cadaverous man staring at me. I recognised him instantly. It was Ernst Stricknene, Kaine's adviser — and he was carrying a red briefcase. I had seen a similar case at Goliathopolis and on Evade the Question Time. It doubtless concealed an ovinator.