Part 19 (1/2)

'Yes.'

The swathe of fins was rippling gently, Jirenal noticed, but he could read her greatest worry like a message telegraphed from a hillside. Still there was that sense of dullness in her mind, of non-reception, concerning her greatly.

Or could it be completion? Jirenal suggested in amus.e.m.e.nt. Jirenal suggested in amus.e.m.e.nt.

Or could it be completion completion, she suddenly wondered in awe?

Might it not be, Jirenal suggested, lobbing the thought into her gaping and waiting mind, that now she loved Jirenal and loved the Infinite Requiem, that there was no more to learn? That questioning was useless, and only faith mattered?

Of course, Amarill realized. The reason that there were no more gentle impulses flowing into her brain from the other Pridka was that there was no more to learn. That questioning was useless, and only faith mattered.

Rea.s.sured, Amarill followed her master, lover and G.o.d from the arena, and on to the nearest gravpad.

Bernice had found Trinket slumped in a chair in the medlab, with his head in his hands.

'Don't tell me sibling rivalry?' Bernice ventured.

'I told her she was mad,' Trinket muttered, looking up at her in dismay. 'She didn't remember me. She's gone.'

'Oh, brilliant. For a moment, I thought you'd done something intelligent.

So where was she heading?' Another thought struck her. 'And why didn't the guards stop her?'

He shrugged. 'She's not a prisoner. They don't have the authority.'

'So where is she?' Bernice demanded.

'She said something about . . . '

'Yes?'

'About needing to talk to a kindred spirit.'

Not every member of the Phracton collective had responded when the order to return to base had come from the Commandant.

Shanstra's mental force like a caress with a dagger, sometimes drawing blood had affected every one of them, but most individual Phractons had managed to isolate the affected areas, both hardware and wetware, and shut them off from their main nodes of operation.

There were some for whom the blade had gone deeper.

152.

And these were no longer Swarm-brothers with their fellows. They were Shanstra's pets, extensions of her will.

Shanstra had reduced the sports centre to a circle of blackness spewing vis-cous smoke, which was clearly visible from her new position on the shattered chequer-board of Londinium Plaza.

One by one, her new servants had come to her, and she had lain an affectionate hand on each crackling globe, sending her instructions into their receptive cyborg minds.

She was biding her time.

The skimmer containing the Doctor, Leibniz and Suzi Palsson landed in the docking bay without incident, and the Doctor, who seemed to have acquired the respect and obedience of most of the crew, demanded that he and Leibniz be taken to Captain Cheynor. He a.s.sured Suzi that she would be in good hands, then grabbed the nearest TechnOp and told her to look after their esteemed guest, Amba.s.sador Palsson from the colony of Bibliotecca, and to give her the best quarters with everything she wanted.

With that, he and Leibniz disappeared into the nearest elevator-tube, leaving the bemused TechnOp staring at Suzi, who tried, with reasonable success, to cultivate a haughty and refined bearing.

The Phracton swivelled with remarkable speed when the arrivals were shown into Cheynor's briefing room. The Doctor gave a cautious smile, but he was aware that Leibniz was staring intently at the alien.

'Stop that,' the Doctor muttered, realizing what was probably happening.

'It's rude.'

Cheynor cleared his throat. 'Doctor. Horst. Glad to see you back safe and well. I've been discussing terms with the Commandant here.'

'Good.

Excellent,' muttered the Doctor, in a tone which implied, to Cheynor's annoyance, that he was hardly interested in the aftermath of the war. He strode over to Cheynor's desk, hopped up on to it and lay down, ignoring the disarray of papers. 'We've been looking at this from the wrong angle,' the Doctor said. 'Wouldn't you agree, Commandant?' He turned his head towards the Phracton and raised his eyebrows.

The Commandant's globe swivelled back and forth and a long, shuddering breath sounded from the grille. 'I do not see the re-le-vance of your question.' Cheynor and Leibniz exchanged a glance.

'How many of the warriors in your Swarm fell under the control of Shanstra?' the Doctor asked sternly.

The Commandant's globe pulsed with a soft blue glow before he answered.

'It is difficult to say,' he admitted. 'The signals of the dis-honourable 153.

are blurred. Also some of the Swarm are managing to isolate her influence.'

'Are you saying, Doctor,' Cheynor asked urgently, 'that although I've just made peace with the Commandant here, there's no way of telling how many of the Phractons are still loyal to the Swarm?'

'Yes,' said the Doctor. He sat up, and his legs dangled over the edge of the table. 'Interesting, isn't it?' He hopped down. 'I'd imagine Shanstra is planning something, now. I don't think she'll make a move until she's absolutely ready.' Another thought seemed to strike him. 'Where's Bernice?' he asked.

Livewire found Suzi on the gallery on the s.h.i.+p's observation deck. It curved vastly above them, revealing the new skyline, shattered but liberated, of Banksburgh.

'h.e.l.lo,' the huntress said, quietly.

The archivist did not turn to look at her. 'I don't need her any more,' she said. 'Neither of us needs her.'

A cold bleakness seemed to shroud the body of the huntress, like a mist.

'The hatred,' she said. 'It felt . . . '

Suzi turned on her in anger. 'It felt like what? A fantasy? You're just a stupid girl, a silly little girl with delusions about being big and heroic. There's more to it than that! No wonder Shanstra was able to control you so easily.'

Livewire stared coldly at her. She clenched her fist, braced herself. Then she relaxed and unclenched her fist again. No. Maybe it was not the way.

Suzi smiled.

Livewire tilted her head to one side, and, as if she was learning how to do it for the first time, she smiled as well.

There was a commotion at the entrance by the end of the walkway, and Benny hurried in, followed by a sheepish-looking Trinket. 'You're supposed to be lying down,' Bernice told Livewire. 'What are you doing?'