'I don't give a fuck about your mission, you're leaving town.'

Suddenly he seemed to relax. He half grinned.

'Anyway, A.A. Catto's gone.'

'Gone?'

'That's right, gone. Much as it hurts me to give you any assistance at all, she's left town. She's in a rented airship. It's passed the city limits and is heading for the nothings. So go. You hear me? Go!'

Jeb Stuart Ho nodded.

'I hear you.' Bannion pointed at the Minstrel Boy.

'And take him with you.'

The Minstrel Boy's eyebrows shot up.

'I ain't going with him. I'll leave town, but I ain't going with him.'

Bannion grabbed the lapels of his frock coat.

'Oh yes you are.'

'Why? Why have I got to go with him?'

'So you can lead him to A.A. Catto, and I can be sure he won't get lost and come back here. Okay?'

'I'm damned if it's okay. I don't mind leaving town. I've been thrown out of better towns than this, but him, I ain't no way going with him.'

Bannion tightened his grip on the Minstrel Boy's jacket.

'Oh yes you are.'

The Minstrel Boy tried to pull away.

'Listen, take your hands off me. You got it all wrong. Shit, I couldn't even help him if I wanted to. I can't track people through the nothings. It's just not possible.'

Bannion pushed the Minstrel Boy forcibly away. He stag-gered back across the lobby. He was fielded by two patrolmen who held him while Bannion sauntered towards him.

'You're a goddamn liar.'

The Minstrel Boy paled.

'What do you mean?'

'You know what I mean.'

The Minstrel Boy began to struggle.

'You can't do it. You can't do it to me.'

Bannion smiled nastily.

'I can. I'll do anything to make sure you two get out and stay out.'

The Minstrel Boy shook his head desperately.

'You wouldn't do that.'

'I would.'

Jeb Stuart Ho interrupted. He looked puzzled.

'I don't understand. What are you two talking about?'

Bannion turned to Ho. His grin became meaner and wider.

'He can follow A.A. Catto anywhere.'

The Minstrel Boy's voice became hysterical.

'No I can't.'

One of the patrolmen twisted his arm, and the Minstrel Boy shut up. Bannion went on.

'Any guide can get a fix on a single individual, provided you keep him shot full of cyclatrol. It gives them some kind of overall vision. Don't ask me how it works, but it does.'

Jeb Stuart Ho stroked his chin. He looked at the Minstrel Boy.

'Is this true?'

Sweat had broken out on his forehead. He shook his head.

'No, no, it's all lies. Nothing like that . . . argh!'

One of the patrolmen had twisted his arm again. He sub-sided.

'Yes, it's true . . .'

His voice rose again.

'. . . But it could kill me.'

Jeb Stuart Ho looked at Bannion questioningly.

'Is this true? Will the drug kill him?'

Bannion shrugged.

'It might. But it's not all that likely. He could go mad.'

Ho nodded.

'I suppose we'll have to take the chance.'

The Minstrel Boy began to struggle violently with the men holding him.

'No! No! You can't do this to me!'

Bannion swung round angrily.

'Shut him up.'

One of the patrolmen tapped the Minstrel Boy sharply across the back of the head with the butt of his nightstick. The Minstrel Boy slumped forward. Bannion turned back to Jeb Stuart Ho.

'I'm taking you down to headquarters. I'll fix you up with transport for the nothings, supplies and the drugs for him.'

He jerked his thumb towards the Minstrel Boy who hung limply between the two patrolmen. Jeb Stuart Ho ran his fingers through his hair.

'There's no alternative choice?'

Bannion shook his head.

'You've got no choice at all. I'd still rather have you quietly shot.'

Jeb Stuart Ho bowed.

'I suppose I should thank you for this help with my task.'

Bannion's lip curled.

'Save it. It's going to cost the brotherhood a fortune.'

He signalled to the squad of patrolmen. They bundled Jeb Stuart Ho and the Minstrel Boy out of the hotel lobby, across the sidewalk and into the back of a patrolcar. Around them, the camera crews and sightseers were already starting to crowd round the entrance of the Leader Hotel. A.A. Catto sat back in one of the small gilt chairs that were arranged round the edge of the airship's small ballroom. The entire place was furnished in gold and red plush. A cluster of small spotlights played on the dark mirror of the dance floor. On a small dais a string quartet played muted chamber music. A.A. Catto sighed. After the fear and ten-sion of the last few hours she felt totally drained. Exhaus-tion made her avoid thinking about what she should do next.

Billy, Reave and Lame Nancy stood in the small observation platform that opened off the ballroom like a tiny terrace. It was totally enclosed in elaborately worked stained glass that threw patterns of colour over them as they stared down at the receding lights of the city beneath them. They all seemed to be avoiding looking at her. It was clear that they were waiting for her to make some kind of decision. She knew it was neces-sary, but somehow she just couldn't do it. She hated doing things out of necessity. She was able to act instantly on whim, but since this nightmare of crazy assassins had started her old life seemed to have vanished. It all seemed so unfair. She raised a limp hand, and a white-coated steward was in-stantly at her side.

'Yes, Miss Catto?'

'I want a drink.'

'We have a fully comprehensive bar.'

'Can you make me a Doric column?'

'I'm sure our bartender can make it. He holds a triple A proficiency rating.'

'He'd better do it right.'

'I'm sure he will, Miss Catto.'

She closed her eyes as he hurried away. She opened them moments later when she heard a discreet cough. She thought it was the waiter with her drink, but she found herself looking at the pale blue uniform and gold braid of the airship's cap-tain. He stood at attention with his white peaked cap clutched under his arm. His face was set in an expression of competent neutrality.

'Miss Catto.'

A.A. Catto raised an eyebrow.

'What?'

'I still haven't had any details of your proposed flight.'

'So?'

'We've passed the city limits, and need to know what course you want me to set.'

A.A. Catto looked round the ballroom.

'I ordered a drink. It hasn't come yet.'

The captain glanced across the ballroom.

'I'm sure the steward will be along in a moment. Now about the course . . .'

A.A. Catto's temper flashed.

'Bugger the course. I want my drink.'

The captain compressed his lips slightly, and marched quickly across the ballroom. Billy, Reave and Nancy were by now standing at the top of the steps that led to the observa-tion platform, watching the exchange. A few moments later the captain returned followed by a flustered-looking steward.

'Here is your drink, Miss Catto.'

The steward placed a tall crystal glass in front of A.A. Catto. Beneath a head of crushed ice, the liquid was pale pink. Halfway down it changed to red and finally in the bottom of the glass it was a deep purple. A.A. Catto picked it up and swirled it round once. The ice tinkled. She sipped it, and put it down.

'I suppose it will do.'

The steward bowed and scuttled away. The captain drew himself up to his full height. With his neatly trimmed beard and rigidly controlled paunch he was every inch the figure of tolerant authority. He cleared his throat.

'About the course, Miss Catto. I really must insist you make a decision.'

A.A. Catto looked at him with frank dislike. If there were three things she detested, they were authority figures, people who found it necessary to clear their throats before speaking and people who insisted she do things. She ran her finger round the rim of the glass. It made a faint singing sound.

'I think I want to go into the nothings.'

The captain's eyes widened.

'The nothings?'

'That's what I said.'

'It can't be done.'

A.A. Catto began to get impatient.

'I was under the impression that I had hired this craft, and that you would take it wherever I requested.'

'That's correct.'

'Well, I'm requesting you to take the damn thing into the nothings.'

The captain took a deep breath.

'That's absolutely out of the question. This ship isn't equipped for that kind of journey.'

'That's the kind of journey I wish to make.'

The captain spoke very slowly as though he was talking to a retarded child.

'If this ship enters the nothings it will disintegrate. It car-ries no generator of its own. It will be destroyed.'

A.A. Catto looked up at him.

'You carry a set of personal generators, don't you? Porta-pacs or something similar?'

The captain nodded.

'Yes, but that's beside the point. I'm not going to take my ship to certain destruction in the nothings. I hope I make myself clear.'

'You refuse?'

'Absolutely.'

A.A. Catto nodded. She slowly turned and looked at the group by the observation platform.

'Billy, could you come over here for a minute?'

Billy sauntered across the dance; floor. He glanced enquir-ingly at A.A. Catto.

'Trouble?'

A.A. Catto looked hard at the captain.

'Billy, do you have your gun with you?'

Billy nodded. He was a little confused. He pulled a .70 recoilless from under his coat.

'I got a gun.'

A.A. Catto relaxed in her chair.

'Would you point it at the captain?'

Billy shrugged and did as he was asked. The captain put on his cap and came to formal attention.

'You realize that by this act of violence you have voided your hiring contract and I have no alternative but to return to the bridge and order this ship to return to the company's docking mast.'

A.A. Catto laughed.

'God, you're pompous.'

'I can only repeat . . .'

'Shut up and listen. If you don't immediately take this contraption into the nothings, Billy will shoot you.

'Won't you, Billy?'

Billy swallowed.

'Um . . . yes.'

The captain remained at attention.

'I'll do no such thing.'

A.A. Catto looked at Billy.

'Shoot him.'

Billy looked at A.A. Catto, at the captain and then down at the gun. He tried to think of a way out. There didn't seem to be one. He pulled the trigger. The captain was knocked across the dance floor. He died without a sound. The string quartet stopped playing, but started again, rather uncoordinatedly, when Billy turned in their direction.

A.A. Catto briskly stood up. She beckoned to Nancy and Reave.

'I think we'd better go to the bridge and take control of this machine. It would seem you can't get anywhere leaving things to other people.'

They left the ballroom and started down one of the companionways that traversed the length of the airship's gondola. As they walked, Billy fell into step beside A.A. Catto.

'Do you think this is such a good idea?'

'Is what such a good idea?'

'Shooting the captain and pushing the ship into the noth-ings?'

'You shot the captain.'

Billy looked down at the deck.

'Yes, I suppose I did.'

'Damn right you did. You're as responsible as anyone.'

Billy felt a little sick. Any ideas of morality seemed to be slipping away. He glanced sideways at A.A. Catto.

'But what about this going into the nothings? I've fallen into the nothings with just a porta-pac. It's no fun. You don't have any control over where you finish up.'

'But you finish up somewhere.'

'Yes.'

'Well then.'

'I still don't like it. We could land in a lot of trouble, and there's nothing we can do about it.'

'Do you have a better idea?'

'No.'

'Could I be in any more trouble than I was in in Litz?'

Billy shook his head.

'I suppose not.'

'Then there's nothing really to discuss, is there?'

Billy didn't say anything more. He followed A.A. Catto up the steel steps that led to the bridge. He slid back the steel door and they stepped into the airship's control room. The front of the bridge was a single sheet of plexiglass. The rest of the walls were covered with various control monitors. Three officers in blue uniforms were grouped round an illuminated chart table. Behind them, staring fixedly through the plexi-glass windshield, was a steersman in a white sailor suit. His hands gripped the big polished wheel that controlled the rud-der, and beside him were the levers that set the angle of climb or descent. The officers looked up sharply as A.A. Catto and her four companions came through the door. One of them, who from the amount of gold braid on his uniform seemed to be second in command after the captain, moved to head them off.

'I'm sorry. Clients are not permitted on the bridge. It's a company rule.'

A.A. Catto smiled.

'I'm afraid company rules no longer apply. I've just had your captain shot.'

The officer stopped dead.

'You did what?'

A.A. Catto continued to smile at him.

'I had the captain shot, and I'm taking this ship into the nothings.'

The two other officers joined the first one.

'That's impossible. You'll destroy it.'

A.A. Catto stopped smiling.

'I tried to explain to your captain. I intend going into the nothings, and no one's going to stop me. Can you under-stand?'

She turned to Billy.

'Show them your gun.'

Billy pulled out his gun again. The three officers took a step back. The first one raised his hand.

'Don't shoot.'

Billy continued to point the gun at him. A.A. Catto looked him straight in the eye.

'Are you going to do what you're told?'

The officers stood together by the chart table. The senior one licked his lips.

'I assume you're taking over the ship by force.'

A.A. Catto clapped her hands together. It was an oddly childish gesture.

'At last we're getting through. Now, will you instruct the driver, or whatever he is, to take us into the nothings?'

'You realize this is an act of piracy?'

A.A. Catto shrugged.

'Call it what you like, only do it.'

The officer muttered for a moment with his two com-panions and then turned back to A.A. Catto.

'I've gone on record as registering my strongest protest against your criminal acts. Beyond that I'll follow your instruc-tions.'

'Then set a course for the nothings.'

The officer bent over the table and consulted a chart. A.A. Catto waited tensely. Finally he straightened up and looked at the man behind the wheel.

'Steer one zero seven,'

'One zero seven, sir.'

'Steady as she goes.'

'Aye, sir.'

The first officer looked sourly back at A.A. Catto.

'Will that be all?'

A.A. Catto thought for a moment.

'We'll need porta-pacs when we hit the nothings.'

The officer scowled.

'They're in the wall locker.'

He indicated with his hand. Nancy opened the locker. In-side was a rack of small individual stasis generators. She took out four and handed them round. They slung them over their shoulders. There seemed to be nothing else to do until the airship hit the nothings. After all the high drama, the whole thing slipped into an anticlimactic trough. It became very quiet on the bridge. The officers went about their routine tasks, doing their best to ignore the four hijackers. The steersman stared resolutely ahead. Billy began to feel a little foolish as he stood there holding his gun. Finally, A.A. Catto could stand it no longer. She caught the eye of the first officer.

'Could you get a steward up here?'

He reddened a little.

'A steward?'

A.A. Catto nodded.

'That's right, a steward. My friends and I would like some drinks, and maybe a snack of some kind.'

The first officer began to inflate with indignation.

'Am I to understand that you want to turn my bridge into some sort of cafeteria?'

'Yes. Why not? We're going to wreck it shortly, so I don't see how a little change in your routine would matter.'

The first officer grabbed a hand mike off the chart table as though he was going to hit A.A. Catto with it, then he checked himself and bellowed into it.

'Get a steward to the bridge. On the double.'

The drinks, when they came, didn't really help too much.

A.A. Catto, Billy, Reave and Nancy formed their own four-person cocktail party, which, if anything, made them feel even more self-conscious. The crew of the airship went on pointedly ignoring them. The presence of A.A. Catto and the others couldn't be ignored for ever. A thin strip of blue-grey light appeared on the horizon. It looked like a strange cold dawn. In fact, it was the nothings. Gradually it rolled nearer. It was like a growing wall of sparkling cloud. The airship drifted closer and closer. The first officer straightened up and faced A.A. Catto.

'Are you sure you won't call off this madness?'

A.A. Catto tapped her fingernails on the porta-pac. She switched it on. The others did the same.

'There's no other way. Keep going, or Billy here will shoot you.'

Billy tightened his grip on the gun. His stomach started to knot. He hated the nothings and the things they did to his mind. The steersman turned to the first officer.

'We'll hit the nothings any minute, sir.'

The first officer looked as though he was about to panic. He moved towards A.A. Catto.

'Won't you let me change course before we're all disrupted?'

Billy stepped between them and levelled his gun at the first officer's chest.

'Hold it right there.'

The officer halted. There were dark patches of sweat under the armpits of his uniform.

'At least let me issue the crew with porta-pacs and give the order to abandon ship.'

Billy looked at A.A. Catto.

'It can't do any harm.'

A.A. Catto thought for a moment.

'Yes, yes. Give the order, but don't attempt to alter course.'

The officer swung round to the steersman.

'Lock on present heading, break out a porta-pac and pre-pare to abandon ship.'

The steersman saluted and hurried to the locker that held the personal stasis generators. He clipped one to his belt and stood waiting. The officers began to do the same. The first officer picked up the hand mike.

'Attention all crew. Now hear this. This is an emergency. I repeat, this is an emergency. We are entering the nothings. All crew will break out porta-pacs and prepare to abandon ship. Good luck to you all.'

He repeated the message and then clipped a generator to his own belt. He came to attention, and A.A. Catto giggled. The wall of sparkling, shifting light was almost upon them. Suddenly Billy turned to the other three.

'It might be a good idea if we held on to each other. That way, we have a chance of coming out of the nothings in the same place.'

Nancy's face grew tight.

'If we come out.'

They linked hands. Above them, the front of the gas bag smoked and began to vanish as it nosed its way into the nothings. The plexiglass vanished as its fabric was scattered into time and space. The front half of the cabin vanished. The wall of mist reached the four of them clinging together. Con-cepts like up and down melted away. They were swallowed in the shifting grey and roaring silence. They seemed to be falling in all directions at once.

They injected the Minstrel Boy with the maximum dose of cyclatrol. Afterwards his eyes glazed over and he began to scream. He screamed non-stop for two hours. They had to shut him in a sub-basement cell until he stopped. Bannion wouldn't let him leave the LDC building until he'd calmed down. Bannion was very sensitive about accusations of police brutality. In the meantime he and Jeb Stuart Ho concluded a deal whereby Chief-Agent Bannion on behalf of the Litz Department of Correction would sell the brotherhood a light-weight armoured car that would enable Jeb Stuart Ho to pursue A.A. Catto. The Litz Department of Correction charged a grossly inflated price, which Jeb Stuart Ho paid after a polite period of ritual haggling.

When the Minstrel Boy finally became quiet, two patrolmen brought him up from the depths of the lock-ups. They had to support him on either side. His movements were uncoordin-ated, his eyes were vacant and his mouth hung open, Jeb Stuart Ho was alarmed at his condition.

'How can he lead me anywhere like that?'

Bannion smiled and tapped the side of his noise with his forefinger.

'He'll do what you want.'

'Yes. Are you sure?'

'Sure I'm sure. You'll see.'

Bannion ordered the car brought round to the front of the building. He and Jeb Stuart Ho went out to inspect it. It was a squat, ugly, square-sided machine. It had long armoured engine housing, and a small three-seat cab. The windscreen and side windows were mere slits of toughened glass, and the whole vehicle was covered in dull grey, bullet-proof steel. It was supported on six balloon-tyred wheels, four at the rear and two at the front. Bannion opened the passenger door.

'Get in.'

Jeb Stuart Ho was confused.

'Surely I will have to drive the machine?'

'Just get in.'

Jeb Stuart Ho got in. Bannion signalled to the patrolmen who were holding the Minstrel Boy just inside the building. They hurried down the steps. Bannion opened the driver's door. They pushed the Minstrel Boy inside and strapped him in. He hung there with his mouth half open. Bannion poked his head in the window beside Jeb Stuart Ho.

'Okay. Tell him what you want.'

Ho looked dubiously at the slack-jawed Minstrel Boy.

'Will he understand?'

'Just tell him.'

Jeb Stuart Ho took a deep breath.

'We have to pursue and catch A.A. Catto.'

The Minstrel Boy didn't respond. Bannion grinned at Ho.

'Tell him to drive.'

Jeb Stuart Ho felt a little ridiculous. He couldn't imagine what kind of obscure joke Bannion was attempting to involve him in. He raised his voice a little,

'You will start the car and drive.'

Like a man in a dream, the Minstrel Boy placed his hands on the wheel. Bannion withdrew his head. The Minstrel Boy put on the power. The engine came to life. The Minstrel Boy dumped it into gear with a crash. The car lurched forward. They swerved drunkenly away from the kerb. Bannion laughed. They began to pick up speed. Bannion yelled after them.

'Don't come back.'

The drive through the traffic of downtown Litz was like a drawn-out suicide bid. A dozen times Jeb Stuart Ho could see no way out of a fatal collision, but at the very last minute the Minstrel Boy somehow managed to avoid disaster. As they had begun to move, his jaws had clamped together and he ap-peared to stare fixedly along the length of the bonnet. Jeb Stuart Ho wasn't certain whether he could actually see, or whether he was steering the car by some other sense produced by the cyclatrol. On a comparatively clear stretch of road, Jeb Stuart Ho looked in the glove compartment to check that the little black case of refills of the drug was still there. It was.

When Bannion had given it to him, he'd told Jeb Stuart Ho to give the Minstrel Boy a shot every twelve hours. He hadn't told him how long the Minstrel Boy would survive under those conditions. At last, to Jeb Stuart Ho's relief, they emerged from the city traffic and swung on to one of the wide straight roads that radiated out from Litz to the edge of the nothings. There was almost no traffic, apart from the occasional wheelfreak's truck that flashed past, blazing with lights. Ho felt that he could relax a little. The Minstrel Boy had manoeuvred the car into the middle of the highway. He held it there with one limp hand.

Jeb Stuart Ho looked carefully at the Minstrel Boy. It was hard to know, apart from the tightly clenched jaws, whether he was really conscious. Even with all his training, Ho found it difficult to visualize what was going on in his mind. Ho was taken by surprise when the Minstrel Boy made a sudden move. His hand flashed down to a part of the control panel between the seats. Harsh metallic music blared from a set of speakers fitted in the back of the cab. In the confined space it made Jeb Stuart Ho's head ring. He shouted to the Minstrel Boy.

'Does it have to be so loud?'

The Minstrel Boy gave no indication that he had heard him. He continued to stare blankly through the windshield. Jeb Stuart Ho stretched out a hand to adjust the volume control. Without warning the Minstrel Boy slapped his hand away. He didn't take his eyes off the road. Jeb Stuart Ho said nothing and settled back to endure it.

They were reaching the limits of the Litz generators. Cir-cular holes filled with grey nothing started to appear in the road in front of them. The Minstrel Boy pressed the control that activated the car's own stasis generator. He made no at-tempt to avoid any of the holes, but continued to hold the car steady in the very centre of the road, at just under maximum speed. The car began to bump and lurch as though its own stasis field was unable to produce an approximation of a flat surface beneath the car, but only the reading on the speedo-meter and the constant bucking and lurching gave any indica-tion that they were moving at all. The razor-sharp music pounded on, and Jeb Stuart Ho began to perform the pre-liminary exercises to close down his mind. The Minstrel Boy's face still showed no sign of life. In many ways, this trip through the nothings was very similar to the lizard ride they had made to Litz. Ho's sense of time quickly began to ebb away. He had to keep glancing at the dashboard to grasp some kind of orientation. The chronometer was little help. In many ways it increased his confusion. Sometimes the digits would flip over at a rate that made it unreadable. Other times a single figure would hang for what seemed like hours. Similar things happened to the music. It would alternately hammer frenetically and then lurch side-ways in howling cadences. He was sorely tempted to seek refuge in an intermediate trance, but the constant sight of the transformed Minstrel Boy beside him kept him firmly in the material world inside the car.

It was around the point when the chronometer was telling him that they'd been in the nothings for just over four hours that things started to appear. First it was the white dog with black nose and ears. It jerked its paw at them in a hitch-hiking gesture, and then, through the rear window, Jeb Stuart Ho could see it cursing them from the distance after the Minstrel Boy had failed to stop. Next came the billboards, huge illu-minated signs that appeared to stand on nothing. Floodlights blazed down on them, making it impossible to miss the slogans in strange, unreadable, alien script. Jeb Stuart Ho wondered if they were real objects or hallucinations. He was at a loss to tell. There was too much about the nothings that he didn't know.

After seven hours they hit the road. It just appeared out of the shifting greyness, exactly under their wheels. It was a dark blue colour, and ran dead straight for as far as the eye could see. Tiny red and green marker lights lined its outer edges. Beyond them was the absolute shimmering grey. Jeb Stuart Ho held on to his mind with meticulous care. The awful music wailed on, punctuated by wrenching cast iron power chords. Nothing else moved on the road, and it seemed to have no end. The chronometer claimed they were nine and three quarter hours out of Litz. Jeb Stuart Ho was just wondering if it was safe to give the Minstrel Boy another shot of cyclatrol, when he began to slow the car. He pulled over to the side of the road and stopped. In a strange kind of way, it seeped to Ho that the Minstrel Boy was cooperating with the plan. He reached into the glove compartment and took out the black case. He fitted a refill into the injector, pushed up the Min-strel Boy's sleeve and pressed the release. There was a faint hiss as the cyclatrol was forced through the pores of his skin. This time he only screamed for thirty-five minute.

When he calmed down, he seemed to need no instructions. He started the engine, made the same violent gear change and continued on down the road.

The lines of lights flashed past in a continuous stream. The road was absolutely smooth. The Minstrel Boy kept the car rock steady in the middle of the road. Jeb Stuart Ho avoided looking out of the narrow window. Despite all his training, the grey shimmer of the nothings made him uneasy. It disturbed the sense of order that was so much a part of his life in the brotherhood.

Jeb Stuart Ho felt closer to the edge of his control than he had ever been during all his years of rigorous instruction. The blue road was so smooth that there was no sense of movement at all. Time seemed to stop. The lights formed themselves into solid strips of red and green. The silent staring presence of the Minstrel Boy, and the clanging music combined with all the other factors to push Jeb Stuart Ho towards a wild, twisting part of his mind that he had never experienced before. It took all his powers of discipline to resist plunging into that chaos.

Just as he was beginning to feel that his strength was about to give out, something appeared ahead. It was far down the road, but it was coming towards them, and it instantly re-stored the concepts of time and space. At first it was only a tiny point of light in the extreme distance, but Jeb Stuart Ho felt himself filled with an immediate sense of relief.

They came out of the nothings in midair. It was as though the falling sensation that had been wrenching at Billy's stomach ever since the airship had disintegrated, was all channelled in a single direction. In a moment of panic he thought he was going to fall to his death. Then the ground rushed up and knocked the breath out of him. The drop had been less than four metres. He landed awkwardly, on hard stony ground. One of his knees twisted under him. As he tried to stand, it hurt like hell. He sank to his knees cursing.

On the second attempt, Billy managed to stay on his feet. He looked around to see where he had landed. The bare hill-side wasn't terribly impressive. It fell away at a steep angle. The bare earth was sparsely covered here and there with patches of bracken and short wiry grass. There were wide expanses of bare rock.

Billy couldn't see very far. Everything but the immediate piece of sloping ground that he had landed on was shrouded in damp, clinging fog. His city boy, pimp clothes were totally unsuited for both the terrain and climate. Already the thin, sparkling material felt cold and clammy. He cursed again, and hugged his jacket tighter round his shoulders. It seemed that he had fallen into some very dismal place. He wondered what had happened to the others. They had all been together in the nothings, but he had lost them when they'd dropped into the reality of the bleak hillside. According to everything Billy had experienced, they should have all emerged at the same point. He wondered if they might be on another part of the same hillside, hidden by the fog. He strained his eyes to penetrate the drifting grey blanket, but he still could see nothing.

He shivered and stamped his feet. If he didn't do something fairly fast he would die of pneumonia. He wondered if he should go and look for them, or stay in the same place and let them find him. It was a problem. He couldn't be absolutely sure that they had all landed near to the same spot. He was still wondering what to do, when he saw a familiar figure limping through the mist. Billy called out.

'Hey! Hey, Reave! Over here.'

The figure turned and started coming towards him. Reave was noticeably favouring one foot, as though his ankle was giving him pain. Silly hurried to meet him.

'Are you okay?'

'I came out of the nothings some way above the ground. I didn't land too good. I guess I twisted my ankle.'

'It ain't broken or nothing?'

Reave shook his head.

'No, but it hurts. You seen anything of the others?'

'Not a sign.'

'Any idea where we are?'

Billy shrugged.

'How the fuck should I know?'

'We could have picked a better place.'

Billy scowled.

'So who picked it?'

They both stood in silence for a while, each waiting for the other to suggest something. Finally Reave shivered.

'Do you figure we should build a fire or something?'

Billy looked at him contemptuously, and waved his hand at the scanty, dripping wet vegetation.

'With what?'

Reave sniffed.

'It was just an idea.'

'Some idea.'

'You think of something better?'

Billy sighed.

'Okay, okay. Just wait a while. Something'll turn up.'

Reave looked dubious.

'You reckon? It looks like we really . . . aargh!'

He clamped his hand to his neck. His face contorted with pain. Billy looked at him in alarm.

'What's wrong?'

'It's this goddamn collar. A.A. Catto must be trying to find us.'

'Do you think she's nearby?'

Reave nodded.

'She must be. The link doesn't work over a really long distance.'

'Maybe she'd hear us if we started yelling.'

'It's worth a try. It might stop her using her ring on me.'

Billy and Reave both began to shout at the top of their voices. After a while they stopped to listen. Nothing happened. The fog seemed to muffle out all sound. They tried again. When they paused a second time, Billy thought he heard faint shouts. They began to yell as loud as they could. They at least had the consolation that the activity was keeping them warm. They paused for a third time. Billy was sure he could hear faint sounds. He turned to Reave.

'You hear that?'

'What?'

'I thought I heard voices.'

Reave listened.

'I don't hear nothing.'

Billy craned forward.

'Yeah. Listen. There it is again. I'm sure it must be the others.'

He started yelling at the top of his lungs.

'Hey, hey, over here.'

Even Reave could hear the answering shouts. After a few minutes of yelling they saw two figures begin to emerge from the mist. It was A.A. Catto and Nancy. They both looked cold and wet. Nancy was limping badly and A.A. Catto sup-ported her on one arm. Their thin, revealing city clothes were obviously no protection against the vicious climate. Reave fingered his collar nervously. A.A. Catto looked as though she was in an evil temper. She walked slowly up to the two men.

'Where in hell are we?'

Billy and Reave looked at each other. Billy shrugged.

'Don't have a clue.'

A.A. Catto scowled and said nothing. Nancy hugged her arms to her chest and shivered.

'We got to get out of this goddamn place before we freeze to death.'

Billy nodded.

'That's for sure.'

Reave squatted down and rubbed at his damaged ankle.

'So where do we go?'

A.A. Catto looked down at him in contempt.

'Can't you ever think for yourself?'

'I don't see you coming up with too many ideas.'

A.A. Catto's eyes blazed.

'Don't talk to me like that!'

She twisted her ring savagely. Reave screamed and fell on his side kicking. Nancy grabbed her by the shoulders, but A.A. Catto pushed her roughly away. Nancy stumbled and fell over Reave. Billy grabbed A.A. Catto by this wrist and held on to her while she struggled and hit at him.

'Hold it, damn you. Just take it easy.'

'Take your hands off me, or I'll kill you.'

'You ain't killing anyone. Calm down now. We're all in this together. Fighting ain't going to help us.'

A.A. Catto relaxed into sullen silence. Billy let go of her. He helped Nancy to her feet.

'Okay, let's try and get organized. We got to get out of here.'

Nancy tried unavailingly to brush the mud stains from her damp jump suit.

'Did we manage to save anything useful from the airship?'

Billy patted his jacket.

'I seem to have lost my gun in the fall.'

A.A. Catto sneered.

'Typical.'

Billy turned on her.

'What have you got?'

'My credit card.'

Billy looked at the ground.

'I don't think that's going to be a whole lot of use in this place.'

Nancy grinned.

'I've got my gun.'

Reave climbed to his feet.

'I've got mine too, and a gravity knife.'

Billy looked round.

'How about food?'

'Nothing.'

A.A. Catto grimaced.

'I suppose nobody has any drugs?'

Everyone shook his head. A.A. Catto pouted sullenly.

'You all realize I'm going to start coming down in a while?'

Nancy raised an eyebrow.

'What do you expect?'

Billy quickly intervened before another fight erupted.

'We ought to decide which way we're going to go.'

Nancy shrugged.

'I figure it's either up or down.'

'Down ought to be warmer.'

'Down it is then.'

A.A. Catto shivered.

'Can we get moving?'

Billy hesitated. A.A. Catto looked at him in exasperation.

'I think I can hear something.'

'Rubbish, I can't hear a thing.'

She started to walk down the hillside. Billy didn't move.

'I'm sure I can hear something. It's a kind of hum. Really high pitched, almost beyond the range of hearing. It's hard to be sure but I think whatever's causing it is coming nearer.'

Nancy nodded.

'I can hear it too.'

A.A. Catto stopped and planted her hands on her hips.

'Are we moving or aren't we?'

Before anyone could respond, her question was answered by a reedy mechanical voice.

'You-will-stay-exactly-as-you-are!'

Three grey steel spheres floated out of the mist. They were about a third of a metre in diameter, and hung some two metres above the ground. A dull black disc was set in the side of each one. The disc moved as the sphere slowly rotated. It was as though the disc was some kind of sensor device and the spheres were scanning the four humans. The surprise at their sudden appearance was so great that nobody moved or spoke. Billy felt as though all his willpower was being drained away. One of the spheres moved silently away from the other two. It circled A.A. Catto and began gently to shepherd her back towards her companions. She too seemed to have been drained of all will to resist. Once the spheres had the humans herded together in one tight group, they surrounded them in a triangle formation. The black discs stared implacably down at the four people. Nobody spoke or moved. The voice came again.

'It-is-necessary-that-we-search-you.'

Billy couldn't tell whether it came from one single sphere, or all three. A small circular slot opened in the base of each sphere and a steel tentacle snaked out of it. The tentacles extended towards the humans and moved slowly over their bodies, as though inspecting them. Billy stood horrified as the cold steel probe slid into his pockets and under his clothes. Then they began removing things from the group. They took Billy's timepiece, his cigar lighter and small tri-di cube of a couple screwing that he kept as a good luck charm. They took Nancy's and Reave's guns and an electronic doorkey from A.A. Catto. They took everyone's portable generator. They also took off her ring, and removed Reave's collar. He had always thought it was permanently locked, but at a single touch from one of the sphere's tentacles, it just fell open. The various objects were placed carefully together on the ground. The voice came again.

'These-objects-are-proscribed-in-this-area. It-is-necessary-to-remove-and-destroy-them.'

One of the spheres emitted a thin beam of bright blue light from a point on its underside. It played over the objects on the ground. After a few seconds, they smoked and vanished. The spheres formed themselves into their original formation and silently drifted away into the mist. Billy slowly turned to the other three. His face had gone slack.

'Did that really happen?'

Nancy nodded.

'I think so.'

A.A. Catto looked round helplessly.

'Why did they take all our things? We had little enough to start with. Now we've got nothing.'

Billy frowned.

'They didn't take our clothes.'

Reave fished in his pocket and pulled out his gravity knife.

'They missed this.'

He snapped it open. When he came to close it, however, the mechanism no longer worked. He scratched the back of his neck.

'This place is too fucking weird. I . . .'

He suddenly received the impact of what the spheres' re-moval of his collar meant. A.A. Catto no longer had any physical control over him. He shot her a single intense glance. She pretended not to notice, and spoke quickly to Billy.

'Have you ever seen anything like them before?'

Billy shook his head.

'Never.'

He thought for a moment.

'It seems like they took away anything to do with technology, all mechanical things. They left our clothes and Reave's knife, but the mechanism on that doesn't work. I wonder if . . .'

Nancy cut him short.

'Could you do your wondering when we get some place that's warm?'

A.A. Catto joined in.

'Let's go somewhere. I'm dying of cold.'

Billy nodded and, without another word, started down the slope. His face was set and thoughtful. Suddenly he stopped and bent down. He fished something from a tuft of grass and held it up.

'Whatever those things were they didn't get this.'

'What is it?'

'A gun, it looks like my gun.'

He held up a compact .70 recoilless.

'It must have dropped here after we fell through the noth-ings.'

A.A. Catto looked grimly pleased.

'At least we're armed.'

Billy nodded, and carefully tucked the gun into the holster under his coat. They carried on down the hillside.

The going wasn't hard. The ground was even and downhill, but the cold became the exhausting factor. Even while they maintained a brisk pace, the freezing damp cut through their thin clothes and seeped into their bones. A.A. Catto's teeth began to chatter uncontrollably. She massaged her bare arms and looked desperately at Billy.

'I c-can't take m-much more of this.'

Billy did his best to be reassuring. He too was half frozen.

'We got to come out of this in the end. It cant go on for ever.'

A.A. Catto pursed her now blue lips.

'Anything's possible.'

Reave flashed her a wry grin.

'If it don't stop, it'll be the end of us.'

A.A. Catto gave him a long hard look, but said nothing. They went on walking. Billy was thankful for the downhill slope. It did at least prove they weren't going round in circles. Apart from that single fact, they could easily have been back at the point they started from. Nothing appeared to change. Billy was about to give up hope when, abruptly, they came out of it. The transition was so sudden, it took them totally by surprise. One moment they were trudging through the same thick mist, then for a few paces it thinned and suddenly they were out in the sunshine. The sky above their heads was a clear blue, and the air smelled sweet and clean. All four of them stopped and just drank it in. A.A. Catto raised her chilled arms to the sun.

'Oh god. It feels so good.'

She turned and hugged Nancy, and they sank down on the short springy turf kissing each other enthusiastically. Billy looked at Reave, and they both shrugged. They turned their attention to their surroundings. Behind them was the wall of cloud completely concealing the upper slopes. In front of them, however, the view was breathtaking. Below them was a wide green valley. It was watered by a slow meandering river. A number of small tributary streams sparkled in the sun, Billy grinned at Reave.

'This really don't look too bad.'

Reave nodded.

'Sure looks good to me. Look at those trees, all that grass.

I could get behind laying up here for a while.'

He peered intently into the distance, and pointed down the valley.

'What do you think that is?'

Billy shaded his eyes and stared in the same direction.

'It looks like a building of some kind.'

Billy could just make out a black structure, beside the river, far down the valley. It seemed to have a broad base and then narrow off towards the top. It was surrounded by patch-work squares of different-coloured vegetation. Billy assumed that they were cultivated fields. Reave turned to Billy.

'Do you suppose we ought to head for that place?'

Billy nodded.

'I don't see anywhere else that looks inhabited.'

'It looks real big, that place.'

'And a long way away.'

Billy walked over to where the girls were lying entwined on the grass.

'Come on, you two. I think we've found civilization.'

A.A. Catto disengaged herself from Nancy.

'Civilization?'

'There's some kind of big building down in the valley.'

A.A. Catto propped herself up on one elbow.

'Is it nice?'

Billy shrugged.

'It don't look hostile. It's a long walk, though.'

A.A. Catto scowled.

'I thought there'd be something wrong with it.'

'It's a nice day for a walk.'

'I'm getting sick of this place.'

Billy grinned down at her.

'We might as well get moving.'

'We have to walk?'

Billy nodded.

'We have to walk.'

A.A. Catto smiled sweetly at him.

'I had an idea. Why don't you and Reave walk to this place? Then when you get there you could send out some transport for Nancy and me.'

'I didn't see too much that looked like transport.

A.A. Catto sat up.

'Where is this place?'

Billy pointed out the building in the distance.

'There.'

'You don't expect me to walk that distance? You're crazy.'

'You can stay here.'

A.A. Catto beamed.

'And you'll send someone to fetch us?'

'I doubt it.'

A.A. Catto's expression turned venomous.

'One day I'll get the chance to really make you suffer, you little punk.'

'I'll do my best to avoid it.'

A.A. Catto climbed grudgingly to her feet. Nancy did the same. They started down the hillside towards the river. A.A. Catto sulked at first, but the walk proved to be no hardship. Very soon she and Nancy were walking along together chatter-ing and giggling. Billy and Reave were slightly in front, deep in their own thoughts. They had been going for about ten minutes. A.A. Catto and Nancy had dropped some way be-hind. Suddenly Nancy yelled out.

'Look!'

There was such a note of urgency in her voice that the two men spun round. Nancy was pointing frantically up the hill. A small troop of horsemen were galloping across the hill-side just below the cloudbank. Billy couldn't make out too many details of the riders. The horses were tall and black. The men carried long slender lances. The only obvious thing was that they didn't look hospitable. He beckoned quickly to the others.

'Quickly, crouch down. They don't seem to have seen us.'

They all flattened themselves on the grass. Not even A.A. Catto made a protest. They lay perfectly still. The horsemen carried on in the same direction. Billy whispered to Reave.

'I think they're going to go past without seeing us.'

Reave's face was grim.

'I sure hope so. They don't look over-friendly.'

Suddenly the leading rider pulled his horse to a stop. The others halted beside him. For a few moments they milled about. Then they began to fan out. They came down the hill-side at a steady trot, directly towards where the four were lying. Billy pushed himself up into a crouch.

'They've seen us! Run! Spread out!'

They all broke from cover. The riders kicked their horses and came on at a gallop. Billy began running for all he was worth. He forgot about the gun under his coat. The thunder of hooves was close behind him. The riders let out high, blood-curdling shrieks. Billy's heart began to pound and his breath came in short, laboured gasps. The time in Litz had destroyed his physical condition. His body cringed at the thought of one of the long thin lances stabbing into it.

He glanced over his shoulder, and saw one of the horsemen close behind him. He swung round and changed direction. He caught a glimpse of a dark-skinned face beneath a strange winged helmet. Then the rider thundered past. Billy began panting back up the hill. Another rider crossed to intercept him. They were dressed in cloaks of some kind of fur, and black armour made from small interlocking plates. They looked sinister and deadly. Billy tried dodging again, but the second rider was too quick for him. He wheeled his horse and came after him. Billy saw that he was swinging two weights on the end of a long thong. Billy turned again and went on running desperately. He caught sight of another rider about to run down Nancy. The one who was chasing Billy suddenly let go of the device of weights and thongs. At that moment Billy remembered the gun, but it was too late. The thing caught him just above the knees. The thongs coiled tightly around his legs. Billy fell heavily. His head hit a rock and black oblivion rushed in and grabbed him.

The light that Jeb Stuart Ho had seen at the end of the road turned out, as they came closer, not to be one but several. They shone from the windows of a large building that stood on a small island of bare ground, beside the road, with the nothings all round it. It had the same ramshackle, disorganized style of architecture as the house at Wainscote where Ho had first found the Minstrel Boy, but instead of looking grim and menacing, this place seemed friendly and inviting.

In front of the building was a wide forecourt. It was crowded with a very mixed assortment of vehicles. A line of saddled lizards were tied to a rail. Sleek ground cars were parked next to broken-down horse-drawn wagons. A huge, ornately painted truck towered over a collection of weird, custom-built motor-cycles. The access to this parking lot was through a high, curving arch of neon lights. Above the arch a huge sign turned slowly. It carried the legend THE INN. This garish entrance contrasted strangely with the funky, uneven style of the building.

As they came up to the Inn, Jeb Stuart Ho wondered if the Minstrel Boy was going to stop or drive straight by. Ho looked at him questioningly, but the Minstrel Boy continued to stare fixedly straight ahead. Jeb Stuart Ho assumed that there was going to be no stop, and settled back in his seat. Then, at the last minute, the Minstrel Boy spun the wheel and the car swung off the road with a shriek of tyres. They passed under the glowing arch, and crossed the fore-court. The Minstrel Boy parked the car beside a land yacht. The strange vehicle had huge, spun-gold photon sails, and a wooden body covered in elaborate and somewhat obscene carvings. The Minstrel Boy cut the car's engine, and slumped forward across the wheel. Jeb Stuart Ho wondered if he should help the Minstrel Boy out of the car, or leave him and go into the Inn on his own. He tapped the Minstrel Boy on the shoul-der.

'Do you want to come inside with me?'

The Minstrel Boy didn't answer. He responded like a zombie, sitting up and slowly moving his hand to the door handle. Jeb Stuart Ho quickly climbed out of the car and hurried round to the Minstrel Boy's side. He helped him through the door, and steadied him while he tried to stand. In his trancelike state, the Minstrel Boy had a good deal of difficulty walking. Jeb Stuart Ho supported him as they made their way to the entrance of the Inn. As they passed the line of tethered lizards, the beasts snorted and stamped their feet in agitation. The Minstrel Boy seemed to have a strange, un-settling effect on them.

The interior of the Inn, and the people who crowded the noisy, smoky, low-ceilinged room, were as mixed as the outside architecture. A long bar of dark, stained oak ran down one side of the main room. A gang of bartenders scurried back-wards and forwards behind it serving drinks to the demanding throng. In a corner a string band occupied a small stage and tried to make themselves heard above the general din. In a cleared space among the tables a hunchbacked juggler with a small black and white dog performed for tips and drinks. Across on the other side of the room, in a section of floor that was lower than the rest, two men sat on small stools, hunched over a huge black and white marble board, a full two metres across, playing checkers with counters the size of plates. A small crowd sat silently watching them, occasionally exchanging low-voiced side bets as the game progressed. At one end of the room was a granite fireplace where two great logs blazed with a comforting glow. The corner of the fireplace and the wall of the room created a patch of shadow. In it were two tables. One was empty and the other occupied only by a solitary old man who nodded over a beer mug. It seemed a place where one could sit without attracting atten-tion. Jeb Stuart Ho steered the Minstrel Boy towards the spot. He didn't want anyone paying too close attention to his condi-tion. Once they were seated, Jeb Stuart Ho had a chance to look at the other people in the main room of the Inn. There were representatives of almost every culture that was crowded on to the remains of the shattered world. There were nomad bike-riders and wheelfreaks with their loud laughter, leather suits and long, greased hair. There were puritan merchants jealous of the glances that the other travellers gave their veiled and hooded wives. Hard-eyed brigands with gaudy clothes, huge brass rings through their ears, and wicked knives stuck in their belts crouched in conspiratorial groups. Away from the rest of the crowd five nuns ate in silence. They had the shaved heads and purple robes of the grim sisterhood who ruled the city of Sade. Sophisticated women in the scanty synthetics that were high fashion in the tech-cities rubbed shoulders with ragged bums, travelling hookers, medicine men and gamblers in the traditional frock coats and fancy vests. There were even a few of the strange, almost alien creatures from the outer fringes, with their tinted skin, abnormal bodies and outlandish clothes. Of A.A. Catto and her companions, how-ever, there was no sign.

Servants of both sexes moved in and out of the throng, serving meals and drinks, laughing with the customers and generally making themselves available. They seemed to com-bine the roles of waiter, host and prostitute. One of them, a girl with large breasts and long slim legs, moved towards Jeb Stuart Ho's table.

'What can I get you, friend?'

'I'd like a meal of fresh vegetables and a bottle of pure water.'

The waitress looked at him strangely. She seemed about to say something, but changed her mind. She nodded towards the Minstrel Boy.

'How about him? Does he want anything?'

'You could bring him some brandy.'

The waitress nodded, and then smiled sideways at Jeb Stuart Ho.

'You wouldn't maybe like a little, uh, companionship, per-haps?'

Jeb Stuart Ho hesitated. He had had no sexual contact with either man or woman since he had left the temple. The pro-spect seemed wholly inviting. Both the men and the women were extremely pleasing. There was his task, though. He was sure the brotherhood and his teachers would expect him to remain celibate until it was complete. He sighed and shook his head.

'Regretfully, I think not.'

The girl shrugged.

'Suit yourself.'

She went away, and after a short while came back with the order. As she leaned over to place it on the table, Jeb Stuart Ho was treated to an uninterrupted view of her breasts. He felt a stab of remorse at his decision to remain temporarily celibate. After she'd moved on, he pushed the brandy glass in front of the Minstrel Boy.

'Here, I ordered a drink for you.'

The Minstrel Boy's eyes were glazed. He appeared to hear and see nothing. It was as though he was in some other place. Jeb Stuart Ho started as a wheezing chuckle came from behind him.

'He'll not drink anything.'

Jeb Stuart Ho turned round carefully, and found the old man was grinning at him crookedly. He was a strange figure. The top of his head was bald, but long white hair cascaded down his back. His beard was of equal length. His face was lined and weatherbeaten, and the long shapeless robe that he wore had been washed, bleached, patched and darned until it was a uniform off-white. The most compelling thing about him, however, was his eyes. They were small and black and peered out from behind bushy eyebrows like those of a lizard, a lizard whose sense of humour was the only thing that saved it from being a venomous cynic. He picked up a stout polished staff, almost as tall as himself, from where it was leaning against the wall, and moved to Jeb Stuart Ho's table.

'He'll not touch the brandy, or anything else, until he pulls out of what you've done to him.'

Jeb Stuart Ho tensed. He arranged himself in his chair so he could instantly move in any direction. He looked evenly at the old man.

'You know what's been done to him?'

The old man's mouth twisted into a sneer.

'I've a pretty fair idea. You've filled him up with cyclatrol or some such gunk, and there's no point in you sitting there like a cat ready to jump. I'll not harm you. Much as I might like to. The only thing I'm wondering is why you did it. I'm wondering what you're after.'

Jeb Stuart Ho was taken aback at the amount of informa-tion the old man seemed to have. He did his best to maintain his composure.

'You seem to know a lot about my affairs.'

'I just watch and figure. Right now I'm figuring what you're up to.'

Jeb Stuart Ho smiled a deceptively sweet smile. He was aware that he might have to kill the prattling old man if he began to endanger his mission.

'And what do you figure I'm up to, old man?'

'I figure you're hunting someone. That's about the only thing that'll bring you black murdering vultures out of your damn temple. I figure you're out for a hit, and you've filled the poor boy here with cyclatrol to get a fix on your victim.'

'Your talk could be dangerous, old man.'

The old man nodded towards the Minstrel Boy.

'When I was his age, I might have been afraid of you, but now I'm too old. Even he seeks a temporary death in oblivion every opportunity he gets. Maybe life's the only thing to be afraid of these days.'

Jeb Stuart Ho was definitely ill at ease. He glanced at the Minstrel Boy, and then back at the old man.

'You know him?'

The old man laughed.

'The Minstrel Boy. Aye, you could say our paths have crossed.'

'Who are you?'

'They call me the Wanderer.'

'And what do you do, Wanderer?'

'I wander round from place to place. I watch and figure.'

'And you know where you are?'

'Don't get any ideas.'

'But you do know where you are?'

The Wanderer sighed.

'Aye, I do, but not as good as a lizard, and not as good as him.'

He nodded towards the Minstrel Boy.

'I was never as good as him. Perhaps that's why I lived so long.'

Jeb Stuart Ho was about to ask another question, when the Minstrel Boy twitched. His eyes focused, and his mouth opened.

'Quahal.'

His voice was a hoarse croak.

'Quahal.'

Jeb Stuart Ho grasped his arm.

'Quahal.'

'What?'

The Minstrel Boy didn't answer. His eyes glazed over again. He became rigid. Jeb Stuart Ho looked at the Wanderer.

'What did he say?'

The Wanderer's eye twinkled.

'He said Quahal.'

'What is Quahal?'

'Don't they teach you anything inside your precious temple?'

Jeb Stuart Ho's face darkened.

'What is Quahal?'

'It's a place. I figure your quarry must have fetched up there. Is it a man or a woman?'

'What difference does it make?'

The Wanderer laughed.

'In Quahal it makes a difference.'

'Why? What is this place?'

'You want to know about Quahal, do you?'

'I'd be grateful for any information you could give me.'

'Grateful, even? Well, I suppose I can't do no harm, except of course to help you kill this poor soul.'

'She only has to die to save many more lives.'

'Says you.'

'The brotherhood's projections have a very low factor of error.'

The Wanderer grunted.

'That's as maybe. It's too much like men playing god for me.'

Jeb Stuart Ho grew impatient.

'Will you tell me about Quahal?'

The Wanderer nodded.

'Aye, I'll tell. If you promise to keep quiet, and not inter-rupt.'

Jeb Stuart Ho smiled.

'You have my word.'

'Your word, even. Right, then. I'll tell you the story of Quahal. Like most things, it started back in the days when things broke up. That was just after Stuff Central got going, and we were supposed to have reached Utopia, although not many people like to connect those two facts any more. Any-how, the nothings came, and the disruptors began to break up the land, and you couldn't trust gravity or nothing any more. People began grabbing anything they could hang on to, stabil-ize and live on. Everyone had a different idea about why things had gone so wrong. There was this particular brother and sister called Alamada and Joachim Hesse. They decided all the trouble was due to technology and the only way to live was in a primitive, natural world. As their home started to melt away, they got Stuff Central to set one up for them. They had a huge great stasis generator installed, stabilized a stretch of place, had it landscaped, a nice misty, wild mountain and a fertile river valley, and moved in. You'll notice, incidentally, that they weren't averse to a bit of technology creating and maintaining this Garden of Eden. At my age, I really ought to stop expecting people to be consistent. Anyway, they had some plants and animals beamed in, and then people. The people were specially DNA tailored to suit Alamada's and Joachim's fantasies, and programmed to do exactly what was expected of them. Everything was set up. They called the place Quahal and settled down to the simple life.'

Jeb Stuart Ho looked puzzled.

'Why Quahal?'

The Wanderer became annoyed.

'How should I know? That's what they called it. Maybe they got it out of a book. I don't know. You promised not to interrupt.'

'I'm sorry.'

'Okay. Don't do it again. Right?'

'I'm sorry.'

'Okay. Well, Alamada and Joachim didn't exactly want the same things. For a start, Joachim was gay and Alamada was a hetero sadist, so they didn't quite see eye to eye. The long and short of it was that Joachim lived down in the valley doing a kind of Aztec number with a lot of specially bred young men. He was the high priest. He had a ziggurat, the whole number, all these lads worshipping him. He was happy as a pig in shit. He had them ritually sacrificed when they got too old, and kept them totally celibate except as far as he was concerned.'

The Wanderer looked at Jeb Stuart Ho.

'Aren't you guys from the brotherhood celibate?'

'Only when it serves our purpose.'

The Wanderer looked dubious.

'I never did see what purpose could be served by not screw-ing. Are you sure you ain't the product of someone's fantasy?'

'I . . .'

'Don't answer. I'll go on with the story. Obviously Alamada wasn't going to go for Joachim's set-up. She made herself a home up the mountain with a team of rough, horny, horse-riding tribesmen. She was their, I dunno, witch queen or something. They all balled her, and fought with each other and were generally rough and disagreeable, so she was happy too. The Stuff beam brought in all the things they needed, including replacement people, and everything was neat. Ex-cept for one thing. You know what that was?'

'No.'

'Joachim and Alamada weren't immortal. They grew old and in the end they died. They even got round that, in a way, though.'

'How?'

'They had everything about them fed into the Stuff Central computer. When they passed away, these replacements showed up. They've showed up about every ten years ever since. In the case of Joachim it was a short ritual. The new Joachim would come out of the Stuff receiver, and the old one would straight away get sacrificed. In Alamada's case it was a little rougher. The Stuff receiver was in the ziggurat, down in the valley. When a new Alamada arrived she'd climb the moun-tain and have to fight the old one. The winner would be queen. I figure that's about it, as far as Quahal's concerned.'

The Wanderer thought for a minute.

'Oh yeah, one thing I forgot. The globes.'

'The globes?'

'Another of Alamada's and Joachim's little concessions to technology. They're a kind of cybernetic watchdogs. They prowl the place. If anyone turns up out of the nothings they remove everything more advanced than a slingshot. If anyone resists they fuse him.'

He looked hard at Jeb Stuart Ho.

'I suppose you'll be of there?'

Jeb Stuart Ho nodded.

'I should leave straight away.'

'You could easily find that the lady you're after has been offed by the current Alamada.'

'I would have to go and make sure.'

The Wanderer grinned crookedly.

'Duty?'

'What else is there?'

The Wanderer shook his head.

'Don't ask me to tell you.'

'I'm sorry.'

'Don't worry about it.'

There was a pause. Jeb Stuart Ho and the Wanderer sat silent with the rigid Minstrel Boy between them. Then the Wanderer looked sideways at Jeb Stuart Ho.

'You wouldn't have any objection to me coming, along with you?'

'To Quahal?'

'Yeah. I've got nothing better to do, and I do know about the place.'

Jeb Stuart Ho became suspicious.

'Why do you want to come? You didn't make the place sound very pleasant.'

'Like I said, I don't have anything better to do. After all, you don't think an old man like me can harm you in any way?'

Ho nodded doubtfully.

'I don't.'

The Wanderer grinned.

'So I can ride with you?'

'I suppose so.'

The Wanderer gestured at the Minstrel Boy.

'We'd better get him out to the car then.'

Jeb Stuart Ho's head jerked round.

'How did you know we came in a ground car?'

The Wanderer grinned.

'Like I said, I don't miss very much.'

They pulled the Minstrel Boy to his feet, and headed for the door.

Billy woke up. He immediately wished that he hadn't. He hurt all over. The slightest movement sent pain stabbing up from the back of his neck. He tried opening his eyes. Wherever he was, the light was dim. Billy was grateful for that. He was aware of something moving. Billy turned his head. He found himself looking at Reave.

'Where are we?'

'You've come round, then? We were beginning to think you'd gone and died.'

'I wish I had.'

'You feel bad?'

'Bad? I feel like I've been beaten up about a dozen times. Where the hell are we?'

Reave rubbed his nose.

'I ain't really sure.'

Billy struggled into a sitting position. He looked around. He seemed to be in some kind of hut. The floor was bare earth and the wall was built from dry stone. There was a single circular wall that curved inwards in a kind of beehive shape to become an almost conical roof. In the centre of it was a small hole. It was the only source of light and ventilation. A heavy wooden door was the only exit from the hut. Billy moved painfully towards it, but Reave waved him away.

'There's no point in trying the door. It's bolted on the outside.'

Billy sat down again. He noticed the hut was completely bare. There was no furniture, nothing. It was also very cold. He shivered and looked at Reave.

'What in hell is this place?'

Reave shrugged.

'Like I said, I ain't really sure.'

Billy began to get impatient. It seemed as though Reave was being deliberately unhelpful.

'What's the matter with you?'

'Nothing. I'm just frozen, starved, and I figure we're liable to get killed any time now. I don't see much to get enthusiastic about.'

Billy frowned, and ran his fingers through his hair.

'What happened? The last thing I remember was being chased by those guys on horses.'

'They caught us.'

'Then what?'

'They slung us over their saddles and rode up into the mist. You were out cold. It seemed like we rode for hours, all through that fog. Eventually we wound up here.'

'What's here?'

'A village of some sort. Just a collection of beehive-shaped stone huts in the fog. I didn't get too much of a chance to look at the place. They threw you and me in here, and that was it.'

'You've been here ever since?'

'Yeah.'

'What happened to A.A. Catto and Nancy?'

'The horsemen took them to some other part of the village.'

'You figure they're being raped?'

Reave shrugged.

'Who can tell? I don't think they are, somehow. The horse-men seemed to treat them with some kind of respect.'

Billy massaged his bruises.

'Pity they didn't give us some.'

Reave scowled, and said nothing. Billy sat thinking. After a while he looked up.

'Do you reckon we could escape?'

Reave slapped the solid stone wall.

'I don't see how.'

'Maybe when they come to feed us?'

Reave shook his head sourly.

'They ain't showed no sign of feeding us yet.'

Billy slumped back against the wall and thought again. Sud-denly he sat bolt upright.

'Hey!'

Reave looked up without too much interest.

'What?'

Billy stuck a hand inside his jacket.

'They left me with my gun.'

'You're kidding.'

'No, look!'

Billy pulled it out. Reave looked at it in amazement.

'Shit!'

'How could they have missed it?'

Reave shook his head.

'Beats me. They took my knife away.'

Billy looked at the gun thoughtfully.

'Maybe they don't know what it is. If those globes destroy all the technology that turns up here, those horsemen may never have seen a gun.'

Reave nodded.

'You got a point there.'

'It gives us a better chance of getting away.'

'We'll have to wait till someone comes and opens the door.'

'When they do, we can blow them away.'

'So all we have to do is wait.'

'Right.'

They waited. They had no way of calculating the passing of time, but it seemed like a very long wait. A couple of times Billy became quite convinced that they had been locked up in the stone hut and forgotten. Eventually, however, there came the sound of someone pulling back the outside bolts. Billy tensed. He moved to beside the door. He flattened himself against the wall, tightly gripping the butt of the gun. The door opened. Billy raised his weapon. A figure stepped into the hut. Billy's finger eased back on the trigger. Then he stopped. The figure was A.A. Catto. Nancy followed her into the hut, then two of the horsemen. Billy quickly stuffed the gun under his jacket. A.A. Catto turned, and saw him pressed against the wall.

'What do you think you're doing?'

Billy wiped a hand over his face.

'Nothing.'

A.A. Catto raised an eyebrow, but made no remark. Reave scrambled to his feet.

'Are you two all right?'

A.A. Catto nodded.

'For the moment.'

Billy glanced at the two horsemen standing in the doorway of the hut.

'Are we still prisoners?'

A.A. Catto examined her fingernails, and picked at one where the paintjob was chipped.

'Not exactly.'

'We can go?'

'No, We can't actually leave this place.'

'What's going on then?'

A.A. Catto avoided looking at Billy.

'It's sort of complicated.'

Billy pursed his lips.

'I might have known it wouldn't be simple. Are you going to tell us about it?'

A.A. Catto took a deep breath.

'Well . . . it's like this. There aren't any women in this tribe. It's all men.'

Billy looked amazed.

'No women?'

'Well, there is one. She's sort of queen witch. The Alamada, they call her. It seems that the only other women who come here are challengers for her title. There's a sort of ritual fight, and the one who wins gets to rule the place.'

Billy's expression became even more incredulous.

'You mean they thought you were a challenger?'

'Yes.'

'I suppose you put them straight about you not being a challenger, and how we all just came here by accident.'

'Well . . . no.'

'Why the hell not?'

'I was worried that they might kill us.'

Billy slowly shook his head, as though to clear it.

'You mean you're going to go along with this fight?'

'I can't see any way out.'

'I suppose you can take a dive as soon as is honourably possible. Then we can all leave?'

'No.'

'No?'

'It's a fight to the death.'

Billy's jaw dropped.

'To the death?'

'To the death.'

'You mean you're risking getting killed to save the rest of us?'

A.A. Catto looked at him as though he was mad.

'No, of course not. If I lose, they'll kill you straight away. I told them that you were my personal slaves.'

'Personal slaves?'

'That's right, so you'd better come up with an idea.'

Billy shook his head in disbelief.

'What the hell have you got us into?'

A.A. Catto looked at him disdainfully.

'I'm sure you'll think of something.'

'How long do we have before the fight?'

A.A. Catto avoided Billy's eyes.

'Not very long.'

She gestured towards the two horsemen.

'These people have come to take us all to another hut. Then we have to prepare for the fight.'

The horsemen began to show signs of impatience. They motioned to A.A. Catto. She walked out of the hut. The others followed. The two horsemen led the four of them through the village. It was a cold, bleak place. A collection of grey stone beehive-shaped huts with thin trails of mist drifting between them. Billy noticed that behind the huts was a wooden fenced corral that contained a fairly large herd of all, mean-looking horses. At one end of the village was a hut much larger than any of the others. It was constructed from three of the dry stone beehive shapes run together. It had a tall timber roof. In front of it was a cleared space. At one side of the space was a fire pit lined with flat slabs of stone. At the moment it was only filled with smouldering embers, but it was obvious that it regularly held a huge fire. At first Billy thought that the two horsemen were taking him to the big building, but at the last minute, they turned off and went towards a smaller one next to it.

During the walk through the village, Billy had a chance closely to examine the horsemen, The two who were acting as their escort were uncannily alike. Billy began to suspect that they might be clones or something similar. They had olive complexions, high cheekbones, prominent noses and deep-set dark eyes. They looked proud, savage and arrogant. The long, straight black hair was heavily greased, and scraped back and secured at the nape of the neck with an ornamental clasp. They wore tunics of heavy fur. Round their waists were wide studded belts. From them hung a wide-bladed knife, and a long thin two-handed sword. Their legs were covered in crude trousers of some coarse material, held together by thongs that criss-crossed from their sandalled feet to just above the knee. The arms were protected by a flexible armour made from small leaf-shaped metal plates that extended right down to the backs of their hands.

The hut they were taken to was much bigger than the one Billy and Reave had been locked up in. It was also a lot more comfortable. The stone walls were hung with roughly woven tapestries. There were rushes strewn on the floor. Warmth came from a small brazier and there were even a rough carved table, three stools and a straight-backed chair. A.A. Catto dropped into the chair, and looked up at Billy.

'So, have you thought of something?'

Billy glanced round at the two horsemen who stood silently by the door.

'Do they understand what we're saying?'

A.A. Catto nodded.

'They use the same language, but I think there's quite a few words they don't use or understand. They don't talk much, though. They use a lot of signs and gestures.'

Billy moved round until he was standing behind A.A. Catto. He watched the faces of the two horsemen, and spoke slowly and carefully.

'I still have my seventy calibre. They didn't take it away from me.'

'You mean you've got a . . .'

'Don't say it!'

'Sorry.'

The horsemen gave no flicker of interest. Billy leaned for-ward.

'Okay. I'm going to take a chance now. I'm going to take the thing out and put it on the table. I'm pretty sure they won't know what it is.'

Billy moved slowly round to the table. He casually took the gun out from under his coat, and placed it on he table. Neither of the horsemen moved. A.A. Catto let out her breath with a sigh.

'It worked. You were right.'

Billy nodded.

'Right. You're going to prepare for the fight. You're going to go through with it. Just hang in there as long as you can. Immediately you get into trouble, I'll shoot the queen. After that, we play it by ear. Okay?'

Before A.A. Catto could reply, the door opened and another two horsemen came into the hut. One carried a bundle wrap-ped in red cloth, and the other a small iron pot. They placed them on the table. Neither appeared to take any particular notice of the gun. One of them unwrapped the contents of the cloth. There was a wide leaf-bladed knife, a set of the strange armour to cover one arm, and a small round shield, slightly larger than a plate. The armour was silver rather than black. The horsemen pointed at A.A. Catto.

'You prepare. Soon it is time.'

A.A. Catto looked round questioningly. The horseman gestured for her to stand. A.A. Catto stood. The horseman moved close to her and tugged at the top of her dress. Nothing happened. He tugged again. A.A. Catto realized I he wanted her to take off the dress. She released the fastening. It fell open, and dropped to the floor. A.A. Catto was naked except for her boots. The horseman pointed to them. A.A. Catto stooped down and took them off. None of the horsemen showed any reaction to her nudity. The one who brought in the bundle stepped away from A.A. Catto, and the one who had carried in the iron pot moved forward. He placed the pot on the table and positioned A.A. Catto so she was standing with her feet apart and her arms raised. Then he turned and dipped both hands into the pot. It was filled with a warm, sweet-smelling, oily paste. He began slowly and carefully to rub the substance all over A.A. Catto's body, not missing any part. At first, A.A. Catto's face regis-tered surprise, but the surprise quickly turned to pleasure. She gave a short, low moan. For a moment the horseman stopped massaging and looked at her blankly, then he went on with his work. Nancy caught A.A. Catto's eye.

'Does that stuff do anything?'

'It deadens the nerves, I think. It's kind of nice.'

When the horseman had finished he moved away and let the first one fit the piece of armour on to A.A. Catto's left arm. Then he picked up the knife and shield, and with a ritualistic gesture presented them to her. A.A. Catto swung the knife a little to test its weight. The horsemen motioned that it was time for them to move. A curious procession formed up. In the front were the two horsemen who had prepared A.A. Catto for the fight, then A.A. Catto herself. Behind her were Billy, Reave and Nancy, and finally, bringing up the rear, were the two original horsemen who had guarded them all the time they had been in the village. As Billy left the hut, he casually picked up the gun and held it loosely by his side. None of the horsemen appeared to notice.

They left the hut, and came out into the open space in front of the big hut. The fire had been piled high with huge timbers, and blazed furiously. Flames leaped from the pit, and a lot of the fog had been burned away. A.A. Catto's oiled body glistened in the light. The open space was surrounded on three sides by squares of horsemen. There must have been fifty in all. They stood in straight, unwavering lines. Unlike the men escorting A.A. Catto and her companions, these men wore conical helmets with batwings of flat black metal pro-jecting from the top. The helmets gave them a sinister appear-ance, which was heightened by two curved side pieces that protected their cheeks, and a third piece that projected down-wards to cover the nose. They all carried the long slender lances, which served to complete the whole effect of menace.

The open side of the square faced the big hut. As A.A. Catto approached the line of men, they stepped aside to let her through. Then the ranks closed. Billy, Reave, Nancy and the four horsemen attending them were left to stand behind the ranks, peering over their shoulders. A.A. Catto stood in the middle of the open space. The fire crackled and roared beside her. It was a strange experience to stand naked apart from her protected arm in front of all these men who looked on so impassively. She stood in front of the big hut and waited. She didn't feel anything like as frightened as she had expected to be. She wondered if the stuff they'd rubbed into her body had some kind of narcotic effect.

There was no sign of the woman she was expected to fight. Then the door of the hut swung open. Two helmeted horse-men came out and positioned themselves on either side of the door. Then a figure, who was unmistakably the Alamada, followed them out. It was A.A. Catto's first glimpse of her opponent, and she didn't like what she saw.

The ground car emerged from the nothings. Jeb Stuart Ho relaxed back in his seat. He was profoundly relieved. Travel-ling through the nothings still intensely disturbed him. When he returned to the temple, he would have to discuss the matter with his teacher and meditate on the answers. That was if he ever did return to the temple. Right at that time it seemed an impossible distance away. He turned and looked out of the side window. They were in one of the broken areas that formed the transition between the nothings and a stabilized area. Small sections of bare earth began to form around them, though there were still huge holes of shifting grey punched through it.

The holes grew progressively smaller, and finally vanished altogether. The solid stable land was complete. The car was bouncing through a lush green meadow. Beside them flowed a wide, clear river. In the distance was a tall, mist-covered mountain. Jeb Stuart Ho glanced back at the Wanderer who sat in the rear seat.

'Is this place Quahal?'

The Wanderer nodded.

'I figure so. Particularly from the state of him.'

The Wanderer nodded to the Minstrel Boy sitting in the driving seat. Jeb Stuart Ho looked round at him. The Minstrel Boy had changed. He was still staring straight ahead and tightly gripping the wheel, but his face had turned green and sweat was pouring off him. His lips were moving soundlessly, as though he was trying to say something. Jeb Stuart Ho looked at the Wanderer.

'Should I give him another shot?'

'Not unless you want to kill him.'

'I don't understand.'

'We've arrived, you fool. There's nothing more he can do for you.'

As though in silent confirmation, the Minstrel Boy slowed the car to a stop. He cut the engine. It was suddenly very quiet. The only sound was a breeze that moved through the grass. The Minstrel Boy slowly toppled over. His head slam-med forward on to the wheel. The Wanderer leaned forward and grasped his shoulder. He shook him gently. The Minstrel Boy didn't move. The Wanderer looked quickly at Jeb Stuart Ho.

'Feel for his pulse! He may be dead!'

'Why should he be dead?'

'Don't ask questions. Just do it.'

Jeb Stuart Ho placed his fingertips on the Minstrel Boy's neck.

'There's a pulse, but it's very faint.'

'Get him out of the car and lay him down on the grass.'

Jeb Stuart Ho did as he was told. The Wanderer stooped over the Minstrel Boy and loosened his shirt. He put his ear to his chest. He listened for a few moments, and then straightened up.

'As far as I can tell, he'll live.'

'What's happened to him?'

'You've got a lot of gall.'

Jeb Stuart Ho shook his head.

'I'm sorry. I don't understand.'

'With all your fucking training you don't understand. You've just about killed the poor bastard.'

'I have? How?'

The Wanderer clapped a hand to his bald head.

'How? How? You fill him up with cyclatrol, you keep him driving through the nothings for fuck knows how long and then you wonder why he almost dies when he starts to come down. You're impossible, Jeb Stuart Ho.'

Ho stood in silence for a long while. He was becoming acutely aware that despite all the years at the temple, there were many things that he still needed to learn, Suddenly a thought struck him. He looked hard at the Wanderer.

'How did you know my name? I didn't tell it to you.'

The Wanderer grinned and tapped the side of lis nose with his forefinger.

'There's a lot I know.'

Jeb Stuart Ho nodded solemnly.

'I'm beginning to realize that.'

He walked slowly away from the car. The doubts were becoming serious. There was so much that he didn't under-stand. He stood staring at the river. He took a grip on him-self. He shouldn't be thinking this way. He only had one purpose in this place. He had to complete his task. He had to kill A.A. Catto. He walked quickly back to the Wanderer and the still unconscious Minstrel Boy. The Wanderer looked up at him and grinned.

'Itchy to get on with the killing, Jeb Stuart Ho?'

'Sometimes I think you can read my thoughts.'

'You don't think a poor old man like me could do any-thing like that, do you?'

'The fox does not lead the hunter straight to his lair, neither does the little rabbit . . .'

The Wanderer quickly interrupted him.

'Don't give me that fortune cookie stuff. It's something I've always hated about your bunch.'

'I'm sorry.'

'I doubt that it's your fault.'

'I'm anxious to get on with my task.'

The Wanderer nodded.

'So I see.'

He nodded towards the Minstrel Boy.

'What about this poor boy?'

There was an awkward pause as the Wanderer got to his feet.

'You weren't thinking of leaving him here?'

'You wouldn't consider looking after him?'

'Have you considered that he might not want to stay in this place?'

'He has the ground car.'

'Not for long, he hasn't.'

'What do you mean?'

The Wanderer grinned.

'That's something else you've forgotten.'

'What?'

'The globes.'

'The cybernetic guards that destroy machines?'

'Right.'

'They'll destroy the car?'

'Of course they will.'

Jeb Stuart Ho looked round.

'They haven't come yet.'

'They will, and when they do, don't try and resist. They're quite liable to fry all three of us.'

Jeb Stuart Ho stared out across the river. Sure enough, just as the Wanderer had predicted, five objects were floating to-wards them. They hung in the air a short distance above the surface of the water. As they came nearer, he could see that they were smooth grey steel with a black disc set in the side nearest to him.

The globes swept across the meadow towards them. They emitted a high-pitched hum. The Wanderer moved close to Jeb Stuart Ho.

'Remember, don't try anything. Just go along with what they want. If you don't, they'll wipe us all out.'

The globes moved round until they'd surrounded the car and the three men.

' You-will-stay-exactly-as-you-are!'

Neither Ho nor the Wanderer replied. Jeb Stuart Ho was aware the spheres were somehow draining off his willpower. He tried to analyse how they were doing this. It was some-thing he had no experience of. The effort proved to much for him, and he found himself standing blankly.

'It-is-necessary-that-we-search-you.'

The tentacles curled out from the base of the globes, and their tips ran over the Wanderer's and Jeb Stuart Ho's bodies. They took away Ho's gun and his stasis generator. They left him with the rest of his weapons and equipment. They found nothing on the Wanderer, and turned their attention to the Minstrel Boy.

'Has-this-one-ceased-to-live?'

The Wanderer shook his head dully.

'He's still alive, but he's unconscious.'

The globes made no comment. They just ran their tentacles over the Minstrel Boy's inert body. They took his stasis generator, and a couple of trinkets from his pocket. They placed them on top of the car, along with the things they'd taken from Jeb Stuart Ho.

'These-objects-are-proscribed-in-this-area.

The-vehicle-is-proscribed-in-this-area.

It-is-necessary-that-we-destroy-them.'

The globes rose and floated above the car. Thin beams of bright blue light stabbed down from their bases, and played over the car. Jeb Stuart Ho retreated from the heat that was generated as the car smoked and melted. When it was reduced to a twisted, blackened hulk, the globes silently retreated back across the river and vanished. Jeb Stuart Ho slowly shook his head.

'I have never seen machines like that before.'

The Wanderer nodded.

'It's amazing what you can get from Stuff Central.'

They both stood looking at the charred wreck. The Wan-derer grinned.

'Looks like we're walking from here on in.'

Jeb Stuart Ho was about to answer when the Minstrel Boy made a noise. Both men turned and looked at him. He was weakly trying to sit up. His face was still very pale. Jeb Stuart Ho dropped on one knee beside him.

'Are you all right?'

'No. I feel half dead. My head hurts.'

Jeb Stuart Ho avoided the Minstrel Boy's eyes.

'I suppose you blame me for it.'

The Minstrel Boy struggled into a sitting position. Anger seemed to give him strength.

'Who the hell do you expect me to blame? You're the fucker that's responsible.'

He caught sight of the Wanderer.

'You! What the fuck are you doing here?'

The Wanderer grinned.

'I just came along for the ride.'

The Minstrel Boy groaned, and looked around.

'Where are we, anyway?'

Jeb Stuart Ho looked at him in surprise.

'You mean you don't know? You brought us here.'

'You don't expect me to remember any of that, do you?'

'We're in Quahal.'

The Minstrel Boy collapsed back on the grass.

'Quahal! Oh no, I don't believe it.'

'You don't like it?'

'Of course I don't like it. It's a hideous, unbelievable place.'

He sat up again, and noticed the wreckage of the car for the first time.

'I suppose the globes did that.'

The Wanderer nodded.

'That's right.'

'So we can't get out of here.'

'Not until someone comes up with something.'

The Minstrel Boy looked bitterly at Jeb Stuart Ho.

'Why did I ever get involved with you?'

'You had no choice.'

'You can say that again.'

The Minstrel Boy continued to sit on the grass. The Wan-derer seemed content to stand patiently and say nothing. Jeb Stuart Ho began to feel that his time was being wasted. He looked from one to the other.

'We ought really to begin to move on.'

The Wanderer said nothing. The Minstrel Bof savagely ripped up a clump of grass.

'I ain't going nowhere else with you.'

Jeb Stuart Ho attempted to be reasonable.

'You can't remain here for the rest of time.'

The Minstrel Boy glanced up with a sneer.

'Can't I? You just watch me.'

Jeb Stuart Ho continued to be reasonable.

'Surely if you come with us, at least to the nearest habita-tion, you may find the means to get out of this area.'

The Minstrel Boy sat in stubborn silence. The Wanderer decided it was time to intervene.

'He's right, you know. You might as well come as far as the ziggurat.'

The Minstrel Boy glared at him.

'Who asked you?'

'I'm only telling you the truth.'

The Minstrel Boy paused for a moment, then climbed slowly to his feet.

'Okay, okay, I'll come that far with you, but one thing's got to be clear, right?'

'What's that?'

The Minstrel Boy nodded towards Jeb Stuart Ho.

'I ain't going to get involved in any more of his deals. I don't want him anywhere near me.'

Jeb Stuart Ho looked at the ground.

'I'm sorry you feel that way.'

'Don't even talk about it.'

Jeb Stuart Ho looked helplessly at the Wanderer. He shrug-ged and slowly turned and started walking away. Ho, and finally the Minstrel Boy, followed him. They walked along parallel to the river. All the men maintained a certain distance between each other. Nobody spoke. Every so often, they would pass the ruined, burned-out hulk of another vehicle that had been destroyed by the globes. There was no sign of any people.

There was no great hardship involved in walking to the ziggurat. The river lowlands had been designed as a natural near-paradise. Once they'd left the last of the wrecks behind, the countryside was almost idyllic. Butterflies and small birds flitted above the long, lush, gently waving grass. The river moved calmly along beside them, reflecting the bright sun-light and the deep blue, cloudless sky. Even the distant view of the blue-grey, mist-shrouded mountain was almost too good to be true. After a while, they could see the ziggurat further down the river. Even from some distance away there was no mistaking its vast size and complexity. Although it was roughly pyramid-shaped, it was a mass of ramps, stairs, stepped walls and flat roofs at different levels. Here and there, the even blackness of the stone was broken up by a small patch of green where plants were being grown on a section of roof. There were also flashes of silver where a stream of water ran down a compli-cated system of channels from a fountain high up near the summit of the structure.

As they came nearer to the ziggurat, the meadow land gave way to a system of small, square, cultivated fields, divided by hedges and irrigation ditches. They crossed a path that appeared to lead straight towards the massive building, and turned on to it. Men were working in some of the fields. They all seemed to have a similar build and very uniform features. They all wore the same kind of one-piece faded blue robe, and their heads were either shaved or totally bald. Each time Jeb Stuart Ho and his two companions passed one of the men, they looked up, smiled, and then went back to their work. It reminded Jeb Stuart Ho of his time at the brotherhood temple and, despite his carefully programmed sense of caution, he felt himself filled with a strong sensation of wellbeing. The others seemed to pick up some of the same atmosphere. Despite the early bad feeling they moved closer together, and the Minstrel Boy even took off his jacket and tossed it across his shoulder. Jeb Stuart Ho had never seen him look so re-laxed.

They started meeting more of the local people. They passed them on the path, wheeling barrows, carrying bundles or simply moving from one field to another with forks or hoes over their shoulders. None of them spoke to the travellers, but they all flashed them the happy instant smile. Jeb Stuart Ho wasn't too surprised at the extreme similarity between all the men, this was common in many closed communities. The brotherhood all looked very much alike, although not to the extent of the men of Quahal. What puzzled him was that they all appeared to be roughly the same age. There were no chil-dren, no youths and no old men. Everyone he had seen ap-peared to be between twenty and thirty. They reached the foot of the ziggurat. There was nothing that could be described as a main entrance. There were at least four arched doorways in the wall nearest to them, plus half a dozen small square openings, also two ramps, and three sets of steps. Jeb Stuart Ho looked round at the Wan-derer.

'Do you have any idea where we should go?'

The Wanderer shook his head.

'No idea.'

He turned to the Minstrel Boy.

'Would you know?'

The Minstrel Boy looked at him, hesitated, and then shook his head.

'I don't know nothing.'

They walked round to the next side of the square base. Here again they were confronted with another choice of stairs and entrances. Jeb Stuart Ho looked round helplessly. The Minstrel Boy grinned.

'You could always go inside and just wander about.'

Jeb Stuart Ho looked hard at him.

'I hardly think that would be suitable behaviour.'

The Minstrel Boy shrugged. Jeb Stuart Ho approached a man who was walking past with a bundle tied to his back.

'Excuse me, friend, but would you tell me where I might find someone in authority?'

The man smiled at Jeb Stuart Ho.

'There is no authority except the blessed one.'

The man walked on. The Minstrel Boy burst out laughing and staggered round in small circles. Jeb Stuart Ho looked perplexed. He tried again. He went up to a blue-robed figure pushing a wheelbarrow.

'Where might I find the blessed one?'

The barrow pusher smiled.

'The blessed one is with all of us, my brother.'

The Minstrel Boy reeled over and slapped Jeb Stuart Ho on the back.

'They're worse than you are.'

Jeb Stuart Ho stared at him in surprise.

'I don't know what you mean.'

The Minstrel Boy was almost helpless with laughter.

'No, of course you don't.'

Jeb Stuart Ho looked round in confusion. He wondered how he could convey what he wanted. He stretched out and caught hold of a passing blue robe.

'Can you help me, please?'

The wearer turned and smiled.

'In what way, my brother?'

'We are travellers from outside Quahal. We would like shelter, food and some particular information.'

'You are travellers?'

That's correct.'

The blue-robed young man frowned.

'I have never encountered travellers before. Perhaps if you could wait here while I go and seek guidance on the matter . . .'

Jeb Stuart Ho nodded. The young man hurried away. They waited. The black stone threw back the heat of the sun. The blue-robed figures came and went all round them. They paused and smiled, but otherwise paid no attention to the three strangers. Jeb Stuart Ho stared up at the vast building. He had never seen anything so impressive. It towered above him, an irregular but harmonious blend of stairs, rectangular vertical walls, sloping ramps and huge inset slabs of relief carving, soaring to the eventual peak hundreds of metres in the air.

The Minstrel Boy didn't share his enthusiasm. He stuck his thumbs in his belt and kicked at the paving stones.

'I got a feeling I ain't going to like this place.'

The Wanderer grinned at him.

'You could always try the mountain.'

The Minstrel Boy grinned ruefully.

'I think I'll stick with this one, for now.'

Two men in yellow robes appeared at the head of the nearest flight of stairs. They were older than the ones in blue, and looked as though they were enjoying a tanned, healthy middle age. Each time one of the younger men passed them, they acknowledged his formal, bowed-head salute. They hur-ried down the steps and walked quickly up to Jeb Stuart Ho.

'You are the travellers?'

Jeb Stuart Ho bowed stiffly from the waist.

'We are.'

'The blessed Joachim is considering granting you an audi-ence. We can offer you food and other minimal comforts until he has reached his decision. If you will follow us.'

The two yellow-robed individuals turned smartly and walked briskly back towards the steps. The three travellers followed them. The Minstrel Boy glanced sideways at the Wanderer.

'What do you think they mean by minimal comforts?'

'Doubtless we'll find out soon enough.'

The Alamada was at least a head taller than A.A. Catto. She also looked a good deal heavier. She was muscular and full-bodied, with ample breasts and thighs. She walked out of the big hut with swaggering arrogance. She was naked, except for the same armour over her left arm that A.A. Catto wore. She carried the same flat, leaf-shaped knife and a small round shield.

She walked forward until she was a couple of metres from A.A. Catto. She held the knife almost casually in her left hand. She halted and smiled at A.A. Catto. Her lips were very full and sensual. Her nose was small and slightly flattened. It contrasted with her eyes, which were large and dark. Her face seemed to radiate a dark, very cruel kind of sexuality. She tossed her head, shaking her mane of straight black hair. It hung almost to her waist.

'I'm going to kill you.'

A.A. Catto couldn't help admiring the woman. She smiled back, and shook her head.

'I don't think so.'

The Alamada raised her knife, and began slowly to circle A.A. Catto. Her body was tense, like a hunting animal. It was oiled like A.A. Catto's, and as she moved the muscles rippled beneath the skin. A.A. Catto lifted her own knife, and drop-ped into a crouch. She backed away slowly and cautiously. The Alamada's lips drew back into something between a grin and a snarl. Her teeth flashed in the firelight.

'I'm going to kill you for sure.'

'No, you're not.'

The two women continued to circle each other. The Ala-mada attempted to edge closer.

'You're not like the others. You're not the way you're supposed to be.'

'I'm different.'

'You're small.'

'That's a puzzle for you to solve.'

'It's your disadvantage.'

'Maybe.'

The witch queen went on trying to get closer to A.A. Catto, and A.A. Catto in her turn went on keeping the distance be-tween them. From behind the lines of horsemen who ringed the space where the fight was taking place, Billy watched tensely. He held his gun down by his side. The butt was damp and slippery where his palms were sweating.

The Alamada stopped circling A.A. Catto. She crouched absolutely still for an instant. Then, with a shout she leaped forward and slashed at A.A. Catto with a wide, backhanded blow. A.A. Catto twisted and jumped back. The edge of the blade missed her stomach by a matter of centimetres. For the first time A.A. Catto realized what she was involved in. Some-thing inside her went cold. If Billy didn't go along with the plan, she would die.

The Alamada spun on her heel and swung a chopping over-arm blow towards A.A. Catto's neck. Desperately she threw up the shield, and just managed to catch the blow. It jarred her arm right up to the shoulder. There was a stabbing pain, and her arm went numb. The shield fell to her side. She jumped back, holding the sword in front of her. The Alamada laughed.

'Are you going to die without a fight?'

'I'm not going to die.'

'Oh yes you are, and slowly too, if you don't put up a fight.'

She swung at A.A. Catto. The knife just touched the skin of her left breast. A thin line of blood appeared. A.A. Catto lunged at the woman. She missed hopelessly. The Alamada lowered her shield and laughed at A.A. Catto.

'You'll have to do better than that.'

She spread her arms.

'Come on, little woman, try again. Try to kill me if you can.'

Blind rage boiled up inside A.A. Catto. She slashed wildly at her. The Alamada twisted her body and the blow went wild. A.A. Catto slashed again. The Alamada jumped back, and she missed again. Tears of frustration welled up in her eyes. She swung at the witch queen again and again, Each time she moved out of the way. A.A. Catto found that she couldn't touch her. The Alamada kept on laughing and taunt-ing her.