Lytikon

---

Oscar was in a compromising position.

There had been many a time over the last few months where he would have gladly traded a hefty pair of metal handcuffs (or whatever was restraining him at the time) for the deceptively soft, silky and strong cloths that currently held his hands behind his back, his feet together and bound his wings to his (naked) back. It was all very kinky, but that didn’t make the knots any less tight. He wore only a spotless white loincloth. This was embarrassing and he suspected they were rather overdoing the whole ‘Holy Angel of the Lord, Chaste and Pure’ Bit. Think Barbarella. No, don’t worry, not the blind part. Disappointment had been expressed about the fact that he was not blond and blue-eyed, before he had been bound and gagged and left on a pillow covered four-poster bed. But as imprisonments go, it wasn’t the worst one he’d ever experienced.

Anyway, now he was conscious, he could try and contact Miriam, as he had been for the past hour or so. Oddly, nothing seemed to be getting through. Maybe the place was covered by some kind of anti-psychic shield.

He had no idea what had been happening to him while he was out, or what might happen in the future. Given his surroundings, the walls covered with various bondage instruments (most of which he did not wish to know about but feared that in the future he would) silken ties, etc, it probably involved sex, of various and deviant kinds. He did not like this prospect. Some day, perhaps yes with a nice girl who he was married to… dear God why was he thinking about that sort of thing, that dart must have muddled his brain. All right, got to get out of this somehow by myself. He tugged experimentally on the knots. Well tied. He struggled, frustratedly, and then gave up, knowing that would do no good.

Damn.

Someone was talking outside the door. Voices he recognised. A key turned in the lock. He decided to play possum to avoid awkward questions. The door opened. He listened carefully.

‘Jesus, Moe how much did you give him? And why’s he in a diaper?’

Oh no. Joel.

‘Me? I didn’t give him a thing. This is what happens when I leave things in the hands of that silly girl. Some idiotic version of me, I’ve completely forgotten which one, decided to give it all up, our mighty quest and have a family. Luckily she stabbed him and her mother, who was some alien pink thing as I vaguely remember, as soon as she grew up, but it shows. Oh, it shows. That was an extremely close one. There could have been all sorts of problems. Wibble.’

‘You’re A-1 Prime-ass crazy, you know that don’t you, Moe?’

‘Every day. You, your wombat and the gosling you rode in on. DAMOCLES and I have kept our end of the bargain anyway, so we’ll give you a quiet buzzing noise when we want you for messing things up, kthx. I should do something with your better half before the Scarborough Sisters get hold of him.’

‘Now there’s a thought. What would they do to him?’

‘I would probably involve whips, chains handcuffs and amusingly shaped fruit.’

‘I’ll save that for later. When I’m not around, like, within a parsec.’

‘Lovely. Now goodbye and stop calling me Moe.’ The door slammed.

Oscar suppressed a gulp.

Joel walked up to sofa and looked his twin up and down. On a whim, he peeked under the angel's loincloth. He snorted, "Lame. I'm still the bigger man." He poked Oscar. ‘Wakey wakey, sleepy head.’ Then he stuck a non-too gentle finger into Oscar’s pulsepoint to check for a heartbeat (although he would have known if Oscar was dead, instantly), and Oscar twitched involuntarily. ‘Guess you aren’t too deep asleep, huh.’ He shook his twin’s shoulders. ‘Hah, I saw your eyelid flicker, shitbag. Quit faking it before I have to beat ya like a red-headed stepchild.’

Oscar gave up the pretence and opened his eyes.

‘That’s more like it.’ Said Joel and slapped him anyway.

‘Mff. Mff mff mmffnssmf.’ Oscar said.

Joel tugged the gag down, bruising Oscar’s mouth. ‘What was that?’

‘I said, “Ow, that was unnecessary”.’

‘With you, everything is necessary.’

‘Well, what are you going to do to me, now you’ve got me?’ Oscar asked, resignedly.

‘Christ Osc, what AREN’T I going to do to you?’ Joel said, rubbing his hands, gleefully.

‘Excuse me, what are you doing to my prisoner?’ Asked someone standing in the doorway.

‘Nothing Moebius said I couldn’t, lady.’ Joel replied, without turning around. ‘Speak to him if ya got a problem.’

‘Oh, Daddy’s been has he?’

Joel turned around.

‘YOU!!’ Screeched Takako.

‘Me?’ Asked Joel, confused.

‘Him?’ Oscar asked.

‘YOU DEFILED MY NIKE!’

‘I did? Oh yeah, I did. ‘Bout six times in close succession, as I recall.’

‘Ugh, TMI. Your Nike?’ Oscar looked confused.

‘Humour Moebius’ crazy daughter, Osc. You’re staying in her house.’

‘AND SO ARE YOU, WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT!’ Takako yelled, and then slammed the door and turned the key.

‘SHIT!’ Yelled Joel and hurled a green fireball at the door. It scorched it, but left it intact.

There was a pause.

‘Hiya Roomie.’ Said Oscar, schadenfreudically.

‘You better not bend over to pick the soap up, diaperboy.’ Joel growled back.

*

Nevin sat, head resting on his hands, watching Kara sleep. How young she was. He hadn’t slept for decades. Kept forgetting to, somehow. Been unconscious a few times and that seemed to do. They were in some forgotten hole on one of the Wendauer planets. They had been wandering randomly for days. Kara seemed lost, without her father. He didn’t mind in the slightest if she went back to him, but she seemed to want to hang around him for some reason he couldn’t fathom. It was nice to have company, he supposed.

What to do now? He could go and find the King and his lot again. Interesting stuff always seemed to happen when they were around, but sometimes things that were a little too interesting, like being crucified.

We have an idea.

‘Oh, hullo. Haven’t heard from you lot in a while. Beginning to think you’d left me.’

We have a message. From the Dragon.

‘What’s that then?’

He is coming.

‘When?’

Now.

The room glowed a little, redly.

NEVIN. The walls said, in a voice like very quiet thunder far away.

‘The glowing already sortof attracted my attention.’

I’D LIKE YOU TO DO SOMETHING FOR ME. SOMETHING INTERESTING.

‘Not too interesting?’

NO

‘Can Kara come?’

A pause.

YES

‘Yay.’

I HAVE SOMETHING FOR YOU TO GIVE THE ANGEL. HOLD OUT YOUR HAND

Nevin did so. A small vial materialised out of thin air and landed in his palm, and lay there, sparkling. It contained a clear liquid.

‘What’s this?’

AGGREGAT EINUNDZWANZIG

‘Agglegaggle einuntswansea?’

If walls could have sighed, they would. YES.

‘What’s an Agglegaggle einuntswansea?’

A DRUG. A VERY POTENT DRUG. IT WAS DESIGNED BY DR DARIAN-MARIK AS AN INTERROGATION TOOL, A TRUTH SERUM TO BRING ALL A PERSON’S SUBCONSCIOUS EXPERIENCES TO THE SURFACE OF THEIR CONSCIOUSNESS THAT THEY COULD BE DISCOVERED. IT WAS NEVER USED, AND ALL SAMPLES WERE DESTROYED, BUT I REMEMBER ALL THE BRINGERS OF CHAOS. IN PHASE 1 CLINICAL TRIALS IT WAS DISCOVERED THAT IT BROUGHT ALL THE DARKEST, MOST SUPRESSED PARTS OF THE PERSONALITY TO THE SURFACE.

‘Oh. A Soul Mirror. Why didn’t you just say that?’

A SOUL MIRROR? Another pause YES, I SUPPOSE IT IS. TRUST YOU TO COME UP WITH THAT.

‘Here to help.’ Nevin grinned, cheerfully. ‘Can I try some?’

NO. YOU HAVE NOTHING LEFT SUPRESSED, YOU ARE ALREADY ALL YOUR OWN DARKNESS. IT WOULD BE USELESS. YOU ARE IMMUNE.

‘Oh well.’ Nevin shrugged.

TELL THE ANGEL YOU HAVE BROUGHT HIM SOMETHING THAT WILL BRING HIM REUNION WITH THE DARKER PART OF HIMSELF. HE WILL KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN AND HE WILL SAY HE WANTS THIS. BUT KNOW THIS. HE WANTS NOTHING OF THE SORT, DEEP INSIDE HIMSELF. HE ONLY BELIEVES HE WANTS IT BECAUSE HE KNOWS IT IS WHAT MUST BE DONE TO HEAL HIMSELF. DEEP INSIDE, HE HATES HIS DARKER SELF, THE THING THAT IS MADE UP OF EVERY PART OF HIMSELF HE DESPISES, MORE THAN HE HATES ANYTHING IN THE UNIVERSE.

‘Oh, poor him.’

INDEED. The Dragon said, agreeing for the sake of it, not because he sympathised in any way whatsoever. THE ANGEL’S DARKER SELF IS NO LONGER INSIDE HIM, BUT THE TWO ARE STILL LINKED, AS THE MAN WHO HAS LOST HIS FOOT STILL FEELS IT’S PRESENCE. THE SOUL MIRROR..

‘Aggregat Einundzwanzig.’

IF YOU COULD PRONOUNCE IT ALL ALONG, WHY.... YOU ANNOY EVEN ME.

‘I’ve been practising for yeeeearrs.’

THE SOUL MIRROR WILL BREAK WHAT SEPARATES THEM. ARTIFICIALLY.

‘What separates them?’

AT THE ROOT, THEIR MUTUAL HATRED, THEIR DEEP MUTUAL HATRED BUILDS A BARRIER TO SEPARATE THEM, BUT ANY BARRIER CAN BE PIERCED, IF ONLY FOR A TIME. BECAUSE IT BRINGS SUCH THINGS TO THE SURFACE, IT WILL DRAG THE DARKNESS FROM THE DEMON, WHO IS THE DEEP, TO THE ANGEL WHO IS THE SURFACE, BUT THE ANGEL’S DEEP MIND WILL REJECT IT, THIS UNNATURAL RISING, AND WILL REALISE THERE IS A BREACH IN THE BARRIER. IT WILL REVOLT. THERE WILL BE UPHEAVAL UNTIL THE BARRIER IS REPAIRED. BUT ONCE SOMETHING IS BROKEN, THERE IS A WEAKNESS. IT MAY BREAK AGAIN, WITH YOUR ENCOURAGEMENT.

‘He’ll go mental?’

ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY MENTAL.

‘What do you want that to happen for?’

HE IS VERY VERY INTELLIGENT. HE WON PRIZES FOR BEING INTELLIGENT, ONCE. VERY INTELLIGENT PEOPLE WHO GO MENTAL CAN DO A LOT OF DAMAGE. LOOK AT MOEBIUS.

‘All in good time.’ Nevin said, darkly.

I LIKE DAMAGE. THE CHANCES ARE HE MAY DO DAMAGE TO IMPORTANT FIGURES AMONG MY ENEMIES. BUT DAMAGE IN GENERAL IS A THING I LIKE. A THING I LIKE VERY MUCH.

‘Ohaye and also a thing I quite enjoy myself. Let me just check something. If I were to give him this and he didn’t hate the other part of him, it’d bring them back together?’

IT IS POSSIBLE, BUT I BELIEVE IT WOULD TAKE MORE THAN THAT. TRY TO MAKE SURE YOU GIVE IT TO HIM WHEN HE IS PARTICULARLY ANGRY WITH THE OTHER PART, JUST TO MAKE SURE.

‘How about the demon. If this takes the darkness out of him, what fills the gap?’

HE HAS PLENTY TO SPARE. BUT IT IS POSSIBLE HE MAY BECOME EVER SO SLIGHTLY NICER. I DOUBT IT WILL LAST.

‘I’m in.’ Nevin said, slipping the vial into the padded inner pocket of his Schwarzwyrmkommando uniform which had been designed for holding such medical things. ‘How shall I find him?’

I SUPPOSE YOU OUGHT TO GO AND RESCUE HIM. NONE OF HIS FRIENDS WILL BE ABLE TO FIND HIM. I CAN NEVER BE CERTAIN OF THAT, OF COURSE, THAT WOULD BE SO UNLIKE ME.

‘Where is he?’

THE PINK LOTUS HAVE HIM.

‘Is that some kind of metaphor?’

YES. BUT IT IS ALSO AN ELITE UNIT OF GAMEZOHAN AND OTHER ALLIED RACES FEMALE NINJA CLAN THINGY.

‘Lots of girlies with sharp things?’

THEY COULD CUT OFF A HUMAN’S HEAD BEFORE THEY FELT THE KNIFE ON THEIR SKIN.

‘Oh, a challenge.’

I WILL GIVE YOU DIRECTIONS THAT YOU WILL HAVE TO REMEMBER DUE TO YOUR STUPID ILLITERACY.

‘I’ll draw a picture on something.’

ON WHAT?

‘Me.’ Said Nevin, picking up a shard of broken plastic window from the floor.

*

‘Your royal highness, please come down.’ De Sartoreus begged. ‘I have sweetbreads.’ He waved the tantalising (he hoped) fresh thymic gland. It dripped leukocyte-rich fluid on the floor.

Skai giggled and hung upside down from the pole. This particular pole held the banner of her maternal great-grandfather, whose name clearly had had something to do with crushed organs. It had a lot of red, brown and a sort of greenish-yellow.

De Sartoreus once again railed internally at being made to babysit. He had no idea how it had happened. The tiny woman had glared and insisted that she had things to do and pointed out that Princess Skysong had been left in their care and somehow, the greatest, most decorated military tactician and general in Wendauer, consort-husband of a third cousin-twice-removed of the old king’s mother, Queen Windgust, was now trying and failing to persuade a royal princess to stop drawing funny faces on an the ancient banner of one of her ancestors, and guess what, the Royal Father-in-Law Jake Omnibus was suddenly no-where to be found.

De Sartoreus was a sensible, pragmatic, sarcastic and naturally bloodthirsty man. Being a distant relation of the family, he was forced to flee the capital and join the forces who were loyal to the rightful king. He had spent a short while under sentence of death, leading glorious and bloody guerilla resistance manoeuvres against the Adamites and gaining extra battle scars, before Princess Windsong and her sister returned with a retinue of SURTRites and a fiancée and reinstated him. Adamus was locked in the darkest dungeon somewhere on minimal and disgusting rations, awaiting a moment when the Queen really had some time to torture, maim and generally destroy him in a proper and fitting manner for a multiple regicide. It was almost a disappointment how quickly everything had returned to normal. He had been hoping for a little more glorious rebellion. Still, there was sure to be a massive war shortly, since his intelligence informed him the SURTRites (along with a Gamezohan traitor admiral, it seemed the effects of the Republican Spasm hadn’t quite worn off yet) were amassing for a huge attack on Gamezoha and thanks to some more apparently random events, Wendauer was now on more diplomatic terms with Gamezoha than it had been for a long, long time. Still, things would certainly return to normal by the next generation, and the two empires would be gleefully at each other’s throats again.

‘I’m going to get very angry, your Royal Highness.’

‘I’m all scared. Hehehe.’ Said Skai, clearly indicating she was not.

‘Skai, come down or I’ll come up and get you.’

De Sartoreus turned around and found himself facing the profile of Emmanuel Saurin. He approved of the dragon as a playmate for the Princess, he would certainly encourage proper anti-Gamezohan sentiments and Wendauerian behaviour, given the black dragons’ reputation. Although Saurin’s fury seemed to be of the icy kind, it was most definitely there.

‘Go on then.’ Skai teased.

In one fluid movement, the dragon shifted into black wings and launched himself into the air. He circled around Skysong, who swung and wobbled back and forth, and dropped her paintbrush, before finding herself tackled round the waist and dragged off the pole at high speed, giggling and shrieking and deposited on the floor, next to the severe and sharp-nosed portrait of Queen Windgust in her later years (pale-blue hair speckled with white, piercing green eyes expressing an attitude of constant low-level annoyance with everyone and everything around her).

‘Owch. Heeheehe.’ Skai giggled as she sat up. Em landed next to her and folded his wings, eyes twinkling. He rarely smiled with his mouth, but mirth could often be seen in his eyes.

At that point the Royal Chamberlain marched in, robes swirling and tall hat slightly askew, and looking flustered, and informed everyone that a delegation from SURTR had arrived asking an audience with their former ally, Her Majesty Queen Windsong.

Skai scrambled to her feet and yelled ‘COME IN!’ at the top of her voice, before seating herself in an approximation of regally on the extremely spiky and intimidating Wendauerian Royal Throne of the Queen. The Chamberlain winced. De Sartoreus may have smirked slightly, but given the large scar across his upper lip (gained in the second Hungarden Rebellion) one could never be quite certain.

The Chamberlain bowed and spun on one immaculately booted heel (He was rumoured to polish them three times a day) and marched out. Presently he returned, followed by a thing approximately three feet tall and resembling a cross between a banana slug, a mutated brain and a naked wombat.

‘Shadowscorcher Qixthxl Waskotiwarglkuf.’ The Chamberlain announced, pronouncing the almost incomprehensible syllables faultlessly, to his credit, before marching out again in a very put-out manner.

‘Good Morning.’ De Sartoreus said, emotionlessly, bowing. ‘I am General Guideau de Sartoreus, Head of Wendauerian National Security.’ De Sartoreus bowed. ‘Her Royal Highness’ companion is Emmanuel Saurin, Ward of the Kingdom of Wendauer.’

Emmanuel bowed, formally.

‘Good Morning.’ The creature said. ‘I wish to speak with her majesty regarding an alliance.’

‘Her Glorious Majesty Queen Ellamina the Second left an hour or so ago on a mercy mission to his Majesty the King’s home planet. The Princess Skysong rules until her return.’ De Sartoreus gestured.

‘I have to talk to a child?’ The creature burbled.

‘Yes.’ De Sartoreus nodded, expressionlessly. Em turned his head away so no-one would see him smiling at the creature’s indignation.

‘Hello.’ Said Skai, waving. ‘You’re all drippy.’

The creature said nothing for a moment, and then apparently decided to make the best of it. It began to recite something clearly learned by rote.

‘We, the forces of SURTR, remembering our former alliance and the aid given by us in order that Her Majesty Queen Windsong could regain her Throne from the despicable usurper Adamus, request a return in aid in our attack on the Gamezohan Empire, your ancient enemy. With the aid of our friend and defector Admiral Morgan-Giles and with the help of the Glorious Kingdom of Wendauer, we are assured a victory over the oppressive and rigid Gamezohans. In the spirit of this alliance, we ask that the SURTR traitors Ariston Elias Delapore and David Herschel Samsa be returned to us.’

Skai looked blank. Then she frowned. ‘You mean Rizzy? Why do you want Rizzy?’

The creature, whilst lacking a recognisable face, gave the general impression that if it had had a face, it would have fallen.

‘To punish him, your royal highness.’

‘For what?’

‘Defecting.’

‘What’s that mean?’

‘He left us.’

‘So what? He’s allowed to if he wants to. Rizzy’s my friend. If anyone tries to hurt him I’ll POW POW ZAP KAZAM BOOM KASQUICK.’ She made punching motions.

‘Your Royal Highness…’

‘If I might interject.’ De Sartoreus interjected. ‘Regarding your ‘help’ in defeating the traitor Adamus, is it not true that whilst Her Glorious Majesty was amongst your people, she was infected with the DAMOCLES virus, deliberately no less, with the intention of incapacitating and controlling her for ends unknown, and therefore was the so called ‘alliance’ not in fact a large and elaborate ruse to gain control over the glorious Kingdom of Wendauer?’

‘Preposterous…’ The creature spluttered.

‘Really.’ De Sartoreus said, his tone noticeably sardonic.

‘You can’t have Rizzy and he isn’t here anyway he went off with Vinny and Wyn and we won’t join you.’ Skai said, angrily, bouncing on her mother’s throne. ‘So nyah. If Wyn was here, she’d say the same, only she said no starting any wars.. oops, anyway, we’re with Nike’s empire because we’re friends with Gauss and Nike even if they are all snooty and dress funny and have waaay too many soldiers who march a lot NOW GO AWAY OR I’LL SQUISH YOU WITH A BIG HAMMER OF SQUISHING THINGS!’

‘But Your Royal Highness!’

‘GO AWAY GO AWAY GO AWAY STOP DRIPPING ON OUR NICE CARPET!’

‘Her Royal Highness has made her wishes clear.’ De Sartoreus said, desperately trying to contain the laughter.

‘You will regret this….nonsense.’ The creature burbled angrily, shuffling around and squelching out of the chamber as fast as it’s slime could carry it. The Chamberlain (who had appeared out of no-where) opened the door with great offended dignity and showed it out. He glared at the three in the chamber before shutting the door. Once it closed, there was silence for a short while. Then Em leaned his forehead against the throne and began a fit of silent laughter. Skai grinned, unsure, and giggled a few times before starting to laugh herself. De Sartoreus finally allowed himself a decently recognisable smirk and joined in.

‘That’s enough now.’ He said, after five minutes. ‘As amusing as it may have been, your Royal Highness has just involved the Kingdom in a war against the fiends from the outer darkness. Plans must be made, Their Majesties informed, His Majesty the King must take up his position as leader of the armed forces, we must inform the Gamezohan Empire we are with them.’ He rubbed his hands gleefully. ’Oh, excellent, excellent…’

‘You have lots of fun.’ Skysong said waving as he marched happily away, already going over tactics in his head. She slid off the throne. ‘Eeeeem.’

‘Yes?’

‘Will you fly me up to the rafters so I can paint a moustache on that statue of my Great-Great-Great-Grandfather Schopendonner?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘He hasn’t done anything to me.’

‘I think he’d look better with a curly moustache.’

‘I don’t.’

‘You’re a spoilsport.’

Em sighed. ‘I’ll take you up there if you leave the paint behind and promise to leave your Great-Great-Great-Grandfather alone.’

‘Okay. Em?’

‘Yes?’ Emmanuel looked up at the statue, peering patriarchally over his descendants and wondered if he would actually look better with a curly moustache.

‘When I grow up will you marry me?’

‘Probably not.’

‘Why not? I like you and I don’t want to marry some stupid noble. Wyn got to marry who she wanted. I’m a princess, I’m allowed to as well.’

‘I don’t like girls.’

‘I don’t have fingernail lice.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Once I went to a party and there were some boys there and I wanted to play war with them and they said girls are yucky and have fingernail lice.’

Emmanuel thought about this. It was entirely possible. His experience of girls was limited. ‘What do fingernail lice look like?’

‘I HAVEN’T GOT ANY!’

‘I believe you, I believe you. But I think you’re confused. I mean I don’t like girls in the way Vinny likes Wyn.’

Skai was momentarily confused, but made a suggestion. ‘Like a wife or a girlfriend?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, I don’t like boys like that either. It happens when you grow up. I think.’

‘I am grown up. I’m older than Vinny and Windsong put together.’

‘Really??? But you don’t look really old. Are you older than General Sartoreus?’

‘Yes. I think so. That’s because I’m a dragon. It takes a long, long time for us to look old. I’ve been reading books about it.’

‘Do you like boys instead, or just not like girls or anyone at all?’

‘Boys instead.’ Emmanuel said, thoughtfully. ‘The thing is, I think because I’m the last black dragon I really have to have babies otherwise when I die there won’t be any more black dragons ever. I think it’s bad that I like boys.’

‘Hmph.’ Skai frowned. ‘You can like anyone you want and I’ll POW anyone who says otherwise and so will Wyn and Vinny cause it’s our kingdom now and people have to do what we say like the drippy thing. I know, you and me can get married and have babies and then there’ll be more black dragons, but you can like boys if you want, I won’t mind as long as you stay friends with me.’

‘You probably won’t feel like that when you get older.’ Em said, sadly. ‘It’s a nice thought though. Let’s go with that for now. Get your paintbrush, I think Great-Great-Great Grandfather Schopendonner will suit a handlebar.’

‘YAAAAAAY!’

*

“The country is holy: O bide in that country kind, Know the green good.”

– Dylan Thomas, ‘In Country Sleep’

Jorgen thoughtfully chewed on some unidentified meat Fendegist had brought in. The wildlife round here was vicious. Fendegist had come back covered in scratches, which Jorgen had laid hands on to heal. He couldn’t use herbs, he knew nothing of the foliage around here. This was an alien planet, and he didn’t understand their language yet. At least, not without an interpreter:

He watched Sylvia conversing with the trees. She seemed to be able to live on light and air and the occasional handful of soil. She was beautiful. Not as beautiful as Agnethe, of course, but a different kind of beautiful. Agnethe was brave and dutiful, humility and fairness even in war. Sylvia was clear water and sparkling sky, dancing star and wild wood.

A particularly loud snore from Fendegist, who had dropped off wrapped up in furs, distracted his attention, and Sylvia’s. She smiled, then turned back to the tree. Jorgen poked his brother.

‘Wake up, boar-pig. Your snorting is hurting my head. Go root for mushrooms.’

Fendegist opened one eye and cuffed Jorgen round the head, knocking him sprawling. ‘Root your own mushrooms out, skinny piglet, unless it distracts you from admiring the pretty girl.’

Jorgen sat up, laughing and made a swipe for Fendegist. A cheerful wrestling match ensued. It ended when they rolled into the tree Sylvia was speaking with and she kicked them off each other.

My bark is thick to stand scratches, and my roots are deep, but tell the two-trunkers to stop that, they’ll knock all my leaves off. The tree said. This is a very rough translation as trees communicate in feelings and leaf rustlings and images and mostly in semi-poetic fluid prose, with speed depending on age and species.

Sylvia laughed and sent images of mirth, harmlessness and reassurance that they would stop.

‘Ahem.’ Someone cleared their throat.

Jorgen sat up, releasing Fendegist from a headlock. Sylvia turned.

Never seen one of them before. The tree said, conveying mild surprise.

‘I bring a wisdom.’ Said M’Alphael of Geburah, resplendent and crowned with golden locks and an aura of fire and bearing a flaming sword.

‘Jolly good.’ Fendegist said, sitting up. ‘Would you like some unidentified meat?’

‘I do not eat.’

‘I’m not surprised, I’ve had better.’ Fendegist complained. ‘Jorgen overcooked it.’

Jorgen resumed his headlock and cheerfully rubbed his knuckles into Fendegist’s head.

Sylvia nodded to the tree and walked over to the angel. ‘Greetings.’ She said.

‘Greetings.’ Said the angel, mild irritation at the brothers’ antics showing in a red cascade across his upper aura. ‘We have not met while you resided in this body. When I last saw you, you were a wild plainsman, chief of a tribe that hunted six-legged buffalo across the distant moon of a planet far from here. Thus, I am M’Alphael.’

‘Sylvia Darian-Marik.’ Sylvia said, deciding to stick with the pronounceable name for now and realising why she found the angel familiar (or at least that was a possible explanation).

The angel inclined it’s head politely to the tree. Its aura formed leaf-like patterns, mimicry of a dendritic greeting. The tree moved its leaves in kind.

‘Hm. At least you have some polite acquaintances.’ The angel said, stiffly, looking at Jorgen and Fendegist, who had now scrambled to their feet and bounced over like a pair of hyperactive puppies.

Sylvia merely smiled.

‘What news, Angel?’ Jorgen asked.

‘News indeed.’ M’Alphael said, sadly. ‘Our suspicions are confirmed. The Lord is Dying.’

‘Impossible.’ Jorgen said, all cheerfulness suddenly gone.

‘What?’ Fendegist said. ‘Dying? Your God is dying?’

M’Alphael nodded, ignoring “your”. ‘As the universe that is Her.. apologies, His body tears itself apart through war and destruction, as the outer chaos encroaches, as the Void breaks through bent on the destruction of all life, He sickens and dies. This time is His illness, His cancer. Not only in your galaxy, but everywhere there is destruction and war. The three forces are unbalanced, the power of Creation all but gone but what little you now hold, and without Creation to give it substance, Order dies too. Soon only Destruction will prevail. That is why the King, scion of a Hundred Kinglines, has come to power, that is why all is coming together.’

Sylvia listened, thoughtfully. What Maximille would have given to hear this, thought she.

‘Oh. And now say it again in words I understand?’ Fendegist asked.

A flicker of purple crossed the angel’s aura.

‘Um.’ It said. ‘I will change my way of speaking. When you are sickened, your body fights, does it not? Certain paths and systems come into play to fight the infection, triggered by the infection itself. You, and your Kin, King and Saint, Reunion, Our-Brother-Who-Was-Iochshephael-And-Shall-Be-Again, Rocketman, The Conjunction of the Three Over the Pyramid, and all the others, all these things are the mechanisms to fight this imbalance, this infection. Together, they shall make a mechanism which if performed correctly will heal The Lord. But there are forces at work that will abuse that, and destroy Him.’

‘Why doesn’t he heal himself?’ Fendegist asked.

‘That is what he is doing.’ The angel said, patiently. ‘That is why you are here. So far all his attempts have been foiled, by the Avatar of Destruction, He That Is Called Moebius. He adapts, but the Lord is all powerful. He will be defeated. There are many plans.’

‘Moebius is the Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome of God?’ Sylvia suggested.

‘That is a good analogy, but there is no superadaptive reverse-transcriptase-inhibitor nanite cure for the Lord. The way is slow and long by your timescale, for He is Eternal If Nothing Goes Wrong Or At Least So Long Lived As To Be Effectively Eternal So Stop Bickering Kthx.’ The angel said, solemnly. ‘And This Is Where I Get On To You. These are your orders. Stay safe. End of Orders.’

‘Okay.’ Said Sylvia.

‘That can be done.’ Jorgen nodded.

‘Most certainly.’ Fendegist grinned. ‘But say please.’

‘There are clarifications. You are the Safety Catch on the Great Glock. You are the Contingency Plan. Hear the Way. Sylvia, in you resided the power of Creation, such as was left. But your mind was taken so you have forgotten that this was so and thus was Creation left with an Avatar that did not Know The Gosling. Thus, it knew itself in danger and left you and came to we the Heavenly Host for help. This is true for a given value of true in that it describes adequately what happened. Although bound to you for you it had Chosen, we took it instead and split it into two and placed it into these two with their consent. They shall now be Raw and Refined Creation. Your mind was taken from you that The Avatar of Destruction could have you helpless and controlled, as he holds Our-Brother-Uzziel-al-Hashishi helpless to work as Avatar of Order. It shall not be so. Until you Brothers-King-Kin are slain the power shall rest in you, and when slain it must return to you Green-Haired-Witch-Treekin.’

‘Sorry, I have to ask.’ Sylvia interrupted. ‘If all three of us are slain?’

Jorgen shook his head. Fendegist growled and mumbled the saxon equivalent of ‘over my dead body’.

‘Then Creation shall pass to another, as Order passed to Our-Brother from the Silver Emperor. It will pass to one who stands strong against Destruction although he would like it otherwise for it cannot go elsewhere nor can Order. It will pass to the Daughter of Fáil, the Daughter of Destiny, the Daughter of Your Daughters.

‘What, ours?’ Fendegist raised an eyebrow.

‘I don’t have a daughter.’ Sylvia said, pointedly. ‘Oh.. as far as I know.’

‘I had about six daughters. So did Fendegist. Which ones?’ Jorgen asked.

‘It does not matter.

‘Who is this Daughter?’ Sylvia asked. ‘Shouldn’t we know who she is so we can warn her?’

‘I see no reason why not. He who was to be your husband loves her. Thus, Our-Brother–Who-Shall-Be-Iochshephael will defend her with his very life. But that must not have to happen.’ M’Alphael said, conversationally.

‘That silly girl who went into hysterics when she saw me with Josephus?’ Sylvia said, disbelievingly.

‘Oh. The little fair-haired one.’ Fendegist shrugged. ‘I didn’t pay her much attention. Seems like everyone is related to everyone else lately.’

‘I will send message to her if you wish her warned.’ M’Alphael said. ‘You three must go somewhere safe. Do not seek to help, do not seek to join any battles, do not seek death, not yet. While you remain Three the Rocket Can Never Be Launched. Once you are One, the Lord can be healed.’

‘And When That Happens We Can All Go Home For Dinner.’ Fendegist said, cheerfully joining in the capitals.

Sylvia laughed, nervously.

‘Don’t worry about us dying.’ Jorgen said, patting her on the shoulder. ‘We’ve done it before, it’s not too difficult. Anybody can do it, eh? And does, eventually.’

‘Not Yet Please.’ M’Alphael said. ‘Go far away, far away to somewhere peaceful. Do not join the battles until you are Called. Do not come until the Rocket is Ready. Do not let the Destroyer know he does not have Sylvia ready to come when called. He took your memories from you back to a time before you knew his ways for a reason. He wanted you persuadable.’

‘I understand.’ Said Sylvia.

‘Now I go.’ M’Alphael said, and did, vanishing into thin air.

There was a pause. The tree rustled quizzically behind them.

‘What now?’ Fendegist asked.

‘Hmph.’ Jorgen said. ‘Stay out of battles. An order I don’t like, but one that must be obeyed nevertheless, clearly. And to go somewhere safe, somewhere away from Moebius and our descendants and their friends.’

‘Know anywhere?’ Fendegist asked Sylvia.

‘Away from Counsellor Moebius?’ She replied. ‘Hah.’

Jorgen sat down cross-legged on the ground and began to hum quietly and sway gently. Fendegist put a finger to his lips and stood very still. Sylvia raised an eyebrow. Jorgen, moving slowly and trancelike, picked up a handful of blueish sand and a piece of fallen bark from nearby and began to pour. Fendegist peered over at it. Jorgen opened his eyes and did too. So did Sylvia.

‘Runes.’ She said.

‘Our writing.’ Fendegist nodded.

‘It is the Day.’ Jorgen said, still half in a trance, pointing to Daeg. ‘And the Man takes his oxen to water, to the lake beneath the oak tree.’ He pointed to Ur, Man, Lagu and Ac.

‘I don’t understand.’ Sylvia looked confused. ‘Is it a metaphor?’

Fendegist made motions with his mouth, spelling the letters out. ‘You prize mystically gibbering idiot.’ He said. ‘It says Dumla.’

‘Oh yes. So it does.’ Jorgen grinned, sheepishly. ‘Wait.. Dumla?’

‘Our descendants mentioned he was still around, remember?’ Fendegist reminded him. ‘I wonder where he is.’

‘Thirdkwadrantkentelisstarsistemkoordinætsánféowersíexnigonseofoneahta slachántwáféowerfífseofondzero.’ Said Jorgen, standing up and dusting blue sand off his fingers. ‘Come on. We’re going back to the city to find a boat-that-flies-through-the-stars.’ He looked at Sylvia. ‘You can translate for us.’

‘Of course.’ She smiled. Jorgen smiled. Fendegist smiled.

Jorgen cuffed Fendegist around the head. ‘That’s for calling me an idiot.’

‘Oh, do stop it.’

Thusly, bidding a quick and in two cases confused farewell to the tree, they went.

*

‘Ain’t you supposed to be looking after Skai, pop?’ Vinny asked, leaning over the screen. Behind him, Wyn chuckled.

‘Yeah, I know.’ Said the image of Jake on the other side of the surface, shrugging. ‘No offence to you, Wynnie honey but your sister is a freaking nightmare. Even Thora can’t keep her in line. I mean, jeez Vinny was bad, he usedta run away all the time but he’d come home when he smelled dinner, yaknow?’

Vinny sighed.

‘Like a puppy, tail between his legs. If he had one.’ Jake sadly contemplated his son’s taillessness. He’d always been very proud of his own tail, it’s impressive furriness being a mark of his particular nobility and healthy growth. In ancient times, a dominant, and therefore noble Zardarkian held his tail high where it was fluffed out by breezes and winds and looked larger, and the ensuing furriness was gradually bred in.

‘Heehee, who’s my puppy?’ Windsong said, pouncing on Vinny’s shoulders and glomping him. ‘Who’s my big Vinny Omnibus-de Lanseau puppy?’

This caused Gauss who currently stood at the other end of the Bridge of the Wendauerian Flagship Bloodthirster to guffaw quietly, and Assumpta and Jon to smile.

‘Omnibus-de Lanseau.’ Jake said disgustedly. ‘My son is gay now.’

‘No way!’ Vinny retorted, unable to prevent himself glancing at Gauss, who pointedly looked away.

‘I don’t think he is.’ Windsong said, glomping Vinny tighter and making him gag. ‘Did you call us just to call Vinny gay and tell us Skai’s misbehaving.’

‘Nah. Finding out where ya rushed off to.’

‘We had to speed up the rescue mission, pop and Oscar went missing.’ Vinny said. ‘We don’t know where though. Mir can’t find him. She’s around the ship somewhere with Hat-guy and Jewishboy. The J-Train said he passed out and it saw four girls yoink him. They left a note stuck to the ship’s side that just said ‘King- We have your friend. Await further instructions.’

‘Oh?’

‘When we catch them we’re going to eviscerate them for daring to lay hands on Oscar.’ Windsong said, matter-of-factly.

There was a beep.

‘Hold on pop, there’s someone on the other line.’ Vinny said.

‘It’s cool, I gotta go before someone finds me anyway.’ Jake replied. ‘Keep me updated.’

‘Will do.’ Vinny nodded. Jake waved. Windsong leaned over and tapped a button.

A different face appeared on the screen, one Vinny didn’t recognise. A pale face framed by neat, short black hair. Wyn immediately let go of Vinny’s neck and slid round to the front of him.

‘Greetings, Your Majesties.’ The woman said eyes narrowing a little. She looked older than Gauss, but younger than Nike and was beautiful in a way that would have caused Edgar Allen Poe to spill black ink all over his neatly starched collar. ‘I am Grammaton Kyliereisonja von Sphexoren, Gamezohan Imperial Intelligence Institute, calling on behalf of Her Imperial Majesty Empress Nike, May She Reign Forever. I understand you have mislaid Dr Josephus de Viaminima.’

Gauss was no longer stood. He was hiding under his chair, quietly begging a mystified Assumpta and Jon not to let Kylie know he was there.

‘Whuh?’ Vinny mumbled, confused.

‘She means Oscar.’ Windsong sighed. ‘You know where he is?’

‘Yes, your majesty. I believe him to be in the possession of the Pink Lotus, a notorious and secretive organisation I am investigating. I must ask you not to speak of this, as it is extremely high intelligence.’

‘Well, point us to the Pink Pansy, Kylie and let’s get us our Doctor Oscar back.’ Vinny said, slamming his fist down on the console eagerly (thankfully away from anything he could have damaged).

The dragon’s eyes narrowed further at the use of the shorter form of her name. ‘If only all things in life were simple, your majesty. The Pink Lotus’ base is near-impregnable. It is also on the Planet Diana, an early Feminist Wiccan commune planet that permits no men on it’s surface.

‘Oh no. Not a chance.’ Gauss said, dismayed. ‘Not again. This time, YOU dress up in drag, Vinny.’

‘Hello Wernher.’ Kylie said, smiling, wryly. ‘Decided to stop hiding?’

‘A pleasure to see you again as well, Kylie.’ Gauss replied, sarcastically. ‘One much comparable with winding one’s brains out on a sharp stick and then poking them back in through one’s acid-dissolved eyes.’ At that, he marched off, passing Miriam, Aris and David who were on their way in.

‘New plan.’ Vinny said, raising a furry finger. ‘Assumpta, Miriam and Wyn, can take a ship and go to this Planet Diana to rescue Osc, disguised as visiting nuns. The rest of us boys can go save the earth. Is that cool with everyone?’

Aris shrugged. David and Jon nodded. Assumpta, astonished at being finally noticed, looked up at him from her prayers. She stood up and bowed. ‘Aye, that is well. I am glad to be the one chosen, yer Majesty.’ She glanced at Jon, who smiled reassuringly.

Miriam nodded. ‘Perhaps I’ll be able to find him if we get closer. I don’t need a ship, by the way.’

‘Oh yeah, you don’t.’ Vinny said, remembering.

‘Her Majesty would be recognised far too easily.’ Kylie said, gloomily.

‘Jeez, quit raining on everyone’s parade.’ Vinny replied, snappishly.

‘She’s right.’ Wyn said. ‘I’d better stay with you. I suppose I have to think about the baby too.’

‘You’re all going to die.’ Kylie droned.

‘Shaddup, Miriam’s indestructible.’ Vinny snapped back.

‘Oh. Well, good luck then, although I doubt you’ll have any. I’m only trying to help because Nike made me. Transmitting co-ordinates….’

*

‘Well, this is another fine mess you’ve got us into, dumbass.’ Joel said. ‘I didn’t do anything. Your friends are the ones who’ve locked us in here.’ Oscar sighed.

‘That’s enough of your shit.’ Joel snapped at him. ‘You’re still tied up and my hands are still free. It’s time for puttin’ the hurt on.’ Green fire began to gather in his left hand.

Oscar started to pray.

Amazingly, it worked.

‘No fighting.’

‘Mistress Takako wouldn’t like that…’

‘…Now would she?’

The Scarborough Triplets now stood in the room, by the door. Where had they come from? How had they come in? A mystery. Had they been watching? Probably, just in case something more kinky than size-gloating occurred.

‘Holy Chickencrap, I’m seeing triple.’ Joe rubbed his eyes. Three sets of ruby lips pouted, three golden curls were wrapped around idle fingers, three sets of baby-blue eyes twinkled with malicious lust.

‘Are you sure you don’t have..’

‘A third brother…? Only that would be..’

‘…Soooo cool.’

‘We’re not brothers.’ Oscar said, darkly.

‘Sure as shit we ain’t.’ Joel agreed.

‘Whatever you like..… It doesn’t matter to us…’

‘Now hold still so we can tie you together…’

‘And play with you..’

‘Bring it on, ladies.’ Joel said, grinning insidiously, eyes wide, beckoning with his forefingers, green fire lighting in his right hand as well.

The triplets moved almost faster than the eye could see. To Oscar they were three blonde blurs, surrounding Joel. In what seemed like a few seconds, Joel’s hands were tied behind his back with black silk scarves. Green fireballs bounced harmlessly off the walls. Joel roared, frustratedly and cussed the air blue, damning all ninjas and all women. Despite the danger he was in, Oscar couldn’t help smiling.

‘You can stop smirking too, you diaperwearing shitbag!’ Joel yelled as they deposited him face down, giggling, on the bed, gagged him and the sat him, wriggling like a fish, back to back with to Oscar.

‘Now, that’s’

‘Better,’

‘Isn’t it?’

Joel shook his head, vigorously and yelled into the gag.

Oscar realised his and Joel’s hands were touching, and he could reach the knots around Joel’s wrists, likewise Joel the knots around his own. He noted this for later.

Thyme tapped one perfect fingernail on her chin. ‘Only two of us can go at a time. That’s..’

‘Annoying..’ Rosemary agreed.

‘We’ll let the boys choose.’ Sage said. ‘Who would you prefer?’

‘Well, there’s really nothing to choose between you…you’re all equally gorgeous.’ Oscar said, wondering if flattery would get him anywhere. Joel made a disgusted noise through his gag. Oscar swallowed his disgust and tried tugging at Joel’s knots. Joel froze and dug his nails into Oscar’s wrists, and then realised what was going on and let his hands go limp.

‘Which one of you is Rosemary?’ Oscar asked, hoping he’d remembered the right name and twisting the knots to loosen them. Joel’s had been tied while he was struggling and weren’t so well done as his.

Rosemary simpered. Thyme frowned. Sage shrugged.

Rosemary began to unzip her skin-tight spandex-style blouse. Oscar’s eyes widened. Joel tried to look over his shoulder to see what was going on. As he did so, Oscar pulled the last knot undone. Joel, kept his hands hidden and, to Oscar’s surprise began to work on his bonds. Still, it wasn’t too unusual, they’d have more chance of escaping if both of them were free, and Joel was bad, but not stupid.

The blouse was now off. Joel, peering over his shoulder, made a whistling noise through his gag. Oscar swallowed, dryly.

‘Your turn to..’ Thyme said.

‘Pick now, Mister Horny…’ Sage finished, leaning over and pulling Joel’s gag down.

‘Whaddaya mean ‘pick’?’ Joel replied, pulling another knot away from Oscar’s wrists. ‘I can’t have both at once? I got fingers, don’t I?’

Thyme and Sage looked at each other and raised their eyebrows. Oscar sighed and pulled his left wrist out of the silk. Rosemary leaned forward over Oscar, giving him a truly spectacular view and positioned herself in his lap.

‘What did I say before? Bring it on, ladies.’ Joel grinned, and started on the knot that bound Oscar’s wings to his back. He brought his legs under him and knelt up, giving the impression he was ready for whatever they had to offer, whereas in fact, there was a knife hidden in his left boot that was now within handy reach.

Thyme and Sage chuckled and stepped forward.

At that point the door fell off it’s hinges, lock torn out. ‘Noswaith dda! Y Ddraig Goch ddyry gychwyn! Stand up and do the happy dance, Sassenachs! Excuse me, I’m looking for an angel, haven’t converted y’know, looking for him for someone I know oh look there he is both of him you seem to be busy I’ll be off then, see.’

The Scarborough Sisters looked up and saw a skinny blonde man about to close the door.

‘Oh look..’ Said Rosemary.

‘The third man…’

‘Wonderful…no need to share after all.’

‘Orson Welles? Where?’ Nevin looked around, frantically.

‘Do I know you?’ Oscar asked. ‘What am I saying? Come in, HELP ME.’

‘More the merrier.’ Joel agreed, whipping the knife out and cutting his legs and then Oscar’s wings free. Oscar looked up, unfolded his wings and took to the air, resting on top of the four-poster bed’s frame.

The Scarborough Sisters, suddenly with three targets to concentrate on, hesitated for a moment, before moving into action. However, the reason Nevin had come this far undetected was that he was just as fast as they were, if not faster. A fourth blonde streak dodged round the other two, yoinked Joel, leapt up and grabbed Oscar by the ankle and nicked off with the bewildered pair of him (between them easily twice his weight) out what was left of the door, the Scarborough sisters in hot pursuit.

Then of course, they ran into Takako. Quite literally.

It took a few moments for everyone to untangle themselves from each other.

‘LET GO OF ME YOU STUPID FUCKING IDIOT!’ Joel yelled, clearly still several seconds behind.

‘You!’ Takako started. ‘How did you escape?’

‘Us.’ Oscar nodded.

‘It wasn’t our fault..’

‘That man with the pointy teeth…’

‘He interrupted us and stole them..’

‘That’s right, so if you don’t mind we’ll be off now, see I’m sure you’ve got a lot to do.’ Nevin babbled, nudging Oscar and Joel forcibly behind him.

‘And who might you be?’ Takako said, grinning horribly.

‘No-one.’ Nevin said.

‘Oh, a cheeky one?’

‘I like to think so.’ Nevin grinned wistfully.

‘You don’t think you’re going to get out of here alive.’

‘Got in all right.’

‘He’s fast, mistress.’

‘Faster than us..’

‘Much faster..’

‘IDIOTS! Takako roared. ‘Can’t you tell a vampire when you see one?’

The Scarborough Triplets grinned.

‘A vampire..’

‘Good one, mistress..’

‘An angel, a devil and vampire. We’ve got the full set.’

‘FOOLS! INCOMPETENTS!’ Everyone winced under Takako’s furious tongue lashing.

Except Joel. ‘Now you listen here, lady.’ He said, pushing Nevin out of the way and stalking up until he was face to face (well, chin to face, he was taller) with Takako. ‘I don’t know who the FUCK you think you are, but when your daddy hears about this he’s gonna be coming back here with a fucking JAR to pick up what’s left of you when I’m finished with you.’

Takako shrieked with laughter and twisted Joel’s arm behind his back before he could blink.

‘Yeooow!’

One of the Scarborough triplets screamed. Everyone turned to look (except Joel, who was busy suffering excrutiating agony). She was pointing next to Nevin, who had a dazed sort of look about him. Next to the vampire stood a fourth sister, identical to the other three.

‘Oh no.’

‘Oh NO.’

‘What is wrong with you now?’ Takako asked, exasperated.

Rosemary (for it was she who had screamed, and whose naked breasts were quivering in a most disturbing manner) stammered. ‘P…P…Parsley.’

The fourth sister was semi-transparent. She stepped forwards ominously.

‘You.. traitorous bitches.’ She said. ‘You traitorous, slimy, backstabbing bitches.’

‘We’re sorry… we had to, Parsley…’

‘It was the initiation test..’

‘It was you or us….’

‘No excuse!’ Shrieked the Shade of Parsley, pointing an accusing finger. ‘I’m going to haunt you EVERY NIGHT UNTIL YOU DIE SCREAMING IN FEAR.’

The Sisters screamed as one and fled down the corridor, three blonde streaks, pursued by a fourth.

Nevin swayed and fell backwards. Oscar caught him.

‘Idiots.’ Takako scoffed and twisted. Joel yelled again. ‘Time to make you suffer for defiling my Nike.’

Joel was silent. Then he began to chuckle, wincing every time the motion twisted his arm further. ‘Someone’s jeeeaalllooooussss.’ He taunted in a sing-song voice. ‘Are we bitter, Missy? Guess Nike wanted a real man, huh? Guess she was tired of little girls. You just weren’t good enough for her anymore.’

Oscar’s eyes widened, surprised at Joel’s utter reckless abandon.

Takako twisted again. A vein in her temple was twitching. ‘You did nothing but defile her with your dirty little demon-brat.’

‘So she’s pregnant, huh? Something else you couldn’t do?’ Joel continued taunting, despite being bent double with the pain. If he was going to die, he was going to have his fun first.

‘YOU… DISGUSTING… CREATURE.’ Takako yelled down his ear, apoplectic with rage. ‘HOW… DARE… YOU…gack…’ She clutched at her head, releasing Joel, who spun away and stood at bay, nursing his almost-broken arm.

Takako spun around in circles, tearing at her pink hair and fell up against the wall, eyes flickering back and forth. Oscar looked down. Nevin sat cross legged, staring at her intensely. She slid down, slowly until she was slumped against the wall. Then she began twitching, violently. Then her eyes rolled up in her head and she lay still.

Joel regarded her for a moment, then pulled out his knife and stabbed it quite pointedly into her heart. Blood welled up. She continued to lie still. He pulled it out, wiped it off on her shirt and stuck it back in his boot.

‘Take that, bitch.’ He said. He turned to the other two. ‘What the hell just happened here?’

‘Stroke.’ Nevin said, quietly and breathily. ‘Made her so angry she blew a fuse.’

‘I did? Good job me.’ Joel grinned and folded his arms, pleased, then twitched and unfolded them. Oscar freed his feet from the last scarf. Nevin took it off him, stood up shakily and began to bandaged a bewildered Joel’s arm.

Oscar stared at the still corpse of Moebius’ daughter.

‘Let’s just make completely sure.’ Joel said, produced a lighter from no-where and set fire to Takako’s hair.

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Joel.’ Oscar said as the acrid smell of burning flesh filled the hall.

‘Fuck off, diaperboy.’ Joel replied. ‘I’m outta here. Thanks for the rescue, Nobody the Vampire.’

‘That’s a good idea.’ Nevin said. ‘Sooner or later they’re going to find the trail of bodies I left on my way in. Mind if I lean on you, angel? Bit woozy.’

‘Not at all.’ Oscar replied and they began walking along the corridor, Joel a little ahead, studiously ignoring them. ‘Did Vinny send you?’

‘Not as such.. I do know him and I knew you were in trouble.’ Nevin said, carefully avoiding filling in any other details.

‘Don’t worry about it. No-one, wasn’t it? I’m Oscar. The pyromaniac ahead of us is Joel.’

‘I’d introduce myself if I wanted to be introduced, Oscar.’ Joel told them over his shoulder.

‘We’re going to have to be very very quiet once we get out of here.’ Nevin said. ‘And we’re going to have to get straight off the planet too.’

‘Why?’

‘No boys allowed. I’m going to have to play some tricks.’

And so they went, leaving a trail of confused people who for one minute could have sworn they saw men, how odd, all the way back to a ship where Kara was waiting for them.

‘Truce ends here, Oscar.’ Joel said, grinning, when they landed on the nearest planet (a small blue-purple planetoid that totally lacked any animals, and was covered in a vast diversity of plant life and was therefore home to a huge tribe of subsistence-botanists). ‘No danger any more.’

‘If you try and fight, I’ll eat you.’ Nevin said, quite seriously.

‘So will I.’ Kara added from the pilot seat.

Joel looked at him. Nevin stared seriously back, piercing blue eyes into brown. Joel pointedly untied the bandage around his arm and threw it at Nevin’s feet, then stormed off through the exit hatch.

Oscar looked at Nevin. ‘I suppose we’d better go and find Vinny. He’s probably gone to Earth by now.’

‘Better go somewhere you know is safe.’ Nevin said, thoughtfully.

‘Erendauer then, Windsong’s home. I guess he’d head back there eventually.’

‘Better.’ Nevin nodded.

‘We’re actually closer to Earth.’ Kara said. ‘We might be able to meet your friends on the way.’

Nevin shrugged.

‘I can’t thank you again for coming all this way to get me, especially if Vinny didn’t ask you.’ He glanced at the girl in the pilot’s chair. She seemed familiar. Hadn’t he seen her at the wedding? Yes, he’d seen Nevin there too, he was sure.

Nevin shrugged. ‘Tell the truth, rescuing you wasn’t the only reason.’ He reached into the inner pocket of the SWK uniform. The vial was intact, thanks to Gamezohan Military Tailoring. ‘I had this vision, see? A voice spoke to me, from the walls, and gave me something. It said “Find the angel, and give him this.’ He produced the vial and handed it to Oscar.

‘What is it?’ Oscar asked, interested.

‘Aggregate Twenty One. A Chemical Soul Mirror.’ Nevin replied, the stress perhaps having jolted him semi-permanently into lucidity. ‘That other you. It’s to give you his power. It brings up all the things out of the dark deeps, out of the buried bottom mind, see?’

Oscar thought this was almost too much to hope for. ‘This can re-unite us?’

‘Yes. Probably. Maybe. Hope so. You have to really focus on wanting him back though. You have to really really want him. You have to think of everything you want back about him. You have to love him from the very bottom of your heart.’

‘That’s difficult for me. But I’ll try it.’ Oscar closed his hand around the vial. Nevin smiled. Kara smiled and peered with sightless eyes over her Ghoule “BaoBanSidhe” Range sunglasses at him, more a knowing gesture than an actual attempt at seeing anything.

Oscar smiled, unstoppered the vial and tried to gather together all his happy thoughts. ‘Bottoms up.’ He tipped it down his throat and swallowed.

There was a pregant pause.

‘I don’t feel any different.’ He said.

Lack of breath meant neither of the vampires breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Probably takes time.’ Nevin said. ‘Kara, can we make a stop-off somewhere for a break and something to eat?’

Kara nodded. ‘Earth isn’t far. We’ll stop at Nibiru.’

Nibiru, or Planet X, the 11th planet, once followed an orbit round Sol almost thirty times as long as Pluto’s and only passes near the earth once in a millenium or so. It was once home to a race of amazingly technologically advanced humanoids, of whom nothing is left but their art and technology (some suggest it may have been a giant hoax on the part of some irresponsible alien being). No-one knows where they went, or what contact, if at all, they may have had with the planet earth, although they have been implicated in everything from the Nazca Lines to the Loch Ness Monster to the Disappearance of Glen Miller (general consensus being that they could keep him). Elvis was thought to be one of them until late in the 23rd century when he returned and informed everyone he was in fact a Time-Traveller from the 32nd century whose mission was to bring true Rock and Roll from the future to create Peace and Harmony. No-one believed him. Nibiru was one of the first planets colonised by spacefaring humans, and eventually after being picked to bits by archeologists and historians for a long time, became a wandering Unsolved Mysteries of SPACE!!! Historical Theme Park. In time, this too fell apart and the planet was left to the generations-old wild and noble bands of Nomadic Archeological-Tourists who roamed the ancient and crumbling bio-domed monuments living off the remains of the fast-food stands and high-class restaurants and praying the artificially created sunlight would never finally malfunction and cease shining down on them, leaving the planet cold and dead until it came close enough to the sun to revive. It was outside one of their encampments that Kara landed the ship. The three of them disembarked, carrying useful objects to barter for food. They were welcomed by the tribal patriarch, DoctorMarianGravesPeeAitchDee (a name passed down in his family for six generations) and offered unidentified meat, which was accepted graciously, and eaten extremely rare indeed. DoctorMarianGravesPeeAitchDee waxed lyrical to them about a nearby tribe of Social Anthropologists with whom they had been engaged in a raiding war since a distant ancestor of one (they weren’t sure which) had written a bad review of a book written by the a distant ancestor of the other one.

That night, it turned out, there was a raid.

‘Rouse! Rouse the people!’ The cry went up. ‘The horn of the domesticated goat shall be blown!’

Oscar woke up from a dream in which he was eaten by a giant black ball of jelly feeling inexplicably angry. Someone pulled the tent-flap aside and shouted to him to rouse, for the Social Anthropologists were attacking. He stood up and produced a flaming sword from nowhere, a sword that lit up the tent with a baleful red glare. That’ll do nicely, said someone, as he emerged, ready for battle.

Outside, the Social Anthropologists and the Archeologists were locked, blade to blade.

‘Fine night for a blood bath.’ Said Kara behind him. Oscar turned, and lit her up with the glow of his sword.

‘Why are you wearing sunglasses at night?’ He asked.

‘They set off my eyes.’ Kara said, tilting them down.

‘Oh.’ Oscar said. ‘Where’s Nevin?’

‘Repaying our hosts and eating his fill of the enemy.’ Kara waved a hand.

At that, there was an earsplitting wail and Oscar spun without thinking to block a dagger thrust, running the attacker through without thinking. Another blade caught him across the side, leaving a trail of pain. He began to see red. The sword flew, bringing death and vengeance to all who stood against him. As the dawn broke, the encampment was littered with corpses.

‘A great victory!’ The cheer went up. The Archeologists had won, all the Anthropologists lay slain, every man and woman of them.

‘That’s an awful colour.’ Nevin said. Oscar turned to see the vampire, drenched in blood.

‘How many did you kill?’ Oscar asked, feeling sick.

‘Less than you.’ Nevin replied.

A unidentified warrior slapped them both on the back and made some comment about brave, fearless and bloody-handed strangers. Oscar surveyed the bodies around them. A lot were semi-incinerated, in the way you would expect them to be if they had been killed by a flaming sword.

‘Oh God.’ He said, and retched.

‘Ooh, if you’re going to throw up, is it going to be the same colour?’ Nevin asked.

Oscar lifted his head, face screwed up with disgust at himself. ‘What? Colour?’

Nevin pointed. Oscar lifted his sword. The flames that crackled across the blade were no longer a wholesome fiery red and orange, but a sickly yellow. Oscar threw the blade away in terror, and it vanished. ‘This is that thing you gave me, isn’t it? It’s working. It’s Joel coming through.’

Nevin nodded. ‘Soul Mirror.’

‘How can I control it?’

Nevin shrugged.

Oscar started to retch again, all the guilt building up as bile in his throat, he should have been paying more attention, watching for something like this, he’d let it come upon him unawares and now people were dead again. A random archeologist-warrior patted him on the back and cheerfully informed him that if anyone had a right to vomit it was him. So he did.

Nevin said nothing, but wiped blood from his mouth and looked at the floor by Oscar’s feet where a tiny feather had been shaken loose from underneath the coat they had found in the stolen ship’s locker. It was grey.

*

"Fair is this land for all time….

Beneath snowfall of flowers….

“Oh wait for me!” Cried Roland. “Don’t go!”

“A magic land, and full of song….

He sprang up the steps and on to the battlement of the keep.

“Green Isle of the Shadow of the Stars.”

-Alan Garner, ‘Elidor’

‘Approaching Earth, your majesty.’

Vinny nodded.

‘Send us down, mister… what’s your name?’

‘Lieutenant Zehnhaus, your majesty.’

‘Send us down, mister Zehnhaus.’

And in the Schwarzwald, lo it was cold and snowy. They did find the werewolves, and as much of SOAKID as was left, various nuns, knights and laymen and one Zardakian, a visiting Brother of St Iisakki named Quajanolet Vögör-Tisalikkia on a mission of condolence, who was much pleased to see Vinny and kindly left him alone when Vinny informed him that he had barely been to Mathlar and really didn’t know any of the places the Brother was talking about.

Unfortunately:

1)Dave was not there. Dave, in fact, had left a message with Diarmuid (who was used by now to flying large distances) that he had no intention of leaving at all, in fact very few of the werefolk of Earth wished to leave, reasoning that they would protect their mother to the last, whatever any crazed computer virus threatened. After all, what could a virus do?

2)A lot, as it turned out, when a second message signed merely ‘a friend’ sent to the Wendauerian flagship informed everyone that they had better get off the planet as fast as was humanly/alienly possible, as DAMOCLES had access to ALL the lost stores of nuclear weapons, bombs, missiles, etc, and god knows what was slowly turning to point itself at the Schwarzwald at the moment.

In the words of one immortal Mon Calimari:

“It’s a trap.”

3)Duly, everyone who’d expressed a desire to scarpered back to the ship.

4)It was shortly after then that all life was eradicated on the Planet Earth.

‘What’s going on??’

‘Why did we come up here so fast?’

‘Everyone please calm down. This is the Wendauerian flagship and you are perfectly safe.’

‘Yes, but what about…’

‘Oh no.’ Said the Wendauerian Lieutenant who was in charge of the scanners. ‘Oh shitting fucking shitting fucky fucker fuck. That was your planet wasn’t it?’ He turned. ‘I didn’t think anything would really… we just got you out in time..’

Several christians and one werewolf pushed in beside him and peered over his shoulder to see what was going on.

‘Oh Lord.’ Said one.

‘It shouldn’t be black.’ Said another. ‘It should be blue and green and brown. Why is it that colour?’

A solemn silence fell over the entire bridge and rapidly spread to the rest of the ship. The sound of quiet sobbing permeated the deck.

Jon looked up at his friends and his Order. Most were in a state of shock. Assumpta, like many of their brethren had switched into their default, namely on their knees, praying.

Should I feel anything? He thought. I don’t know what to do in this situation. Lord, what do I do? That was my home. He looked around, and something occurred to him.

Where was Vinny?

Oh no.

No, if he was dead, he’d know. They shared blood. Miriam would have said something.

He looked for him with his mind, and with the memory of eternity, the memory of the Grail. He could feel him, but somewhere far away. And somehow, he felt something inside him, a voice he recognised from the time when he began, say, he should be there, I have taken him there, now all of you must stay alive, because what just happened was WRONG, horribly, horribly wrong and it needs to be FIXED.

He nodded.

Father, into your hands, I commend my spirit.

*

On Diana, Miriam and Assumpta, dressed in habits found themselves facing a small legion of very angry Pink Lotus.

‘Look.’ Miriam said, impatiently. ‘We just want to know if you have an angel.. I know it sounds silly, but…’ She stopped for a second, wide-eyed as she felt a strange jolt go through her.

‘Angel?’ Said one scantily clad ninja. ‘That bastard and his demon-vampire friends left an hour ago. I don’t know what he did, but Takako is ashes and the Scarborough sisters have locked themselves in the toilet and won’t come out. You can keep him and make sure he never comes back.’

‘Thank you.’ Miriam said. ‘That’s all I wanted to know. Come on, Assumpta, we’re off.’

‘Aye.’

*

Oscar, where are you?

Miriam? I’m with Nevin. Oscar sounded ill, but happy to see them. We’re on a ship, not far from Earth.

Hold on, we’ll be right there.

Miriam and Assumpta appeared next to Oscar.

‘Oh, ‘ello.’ Nevin said.

‘Hello.’ Miriam replied.

Sister Assumpta ran to Oscar and threw her arms around him, shaking with relief. ‘Praise the Lord y’are safe! I was so worried!’

Oscar, surprised, reciprocated. ‘I’m fine. Nevin got us out.’

Assumpta let go of Oscar and hugged Nevin instead. Nevin laughed nervously.

‘We’ll take him from here, if that’s all right.’ Miriam said.

Nevin nodded. ‘Give my regards to Vinny.’ He said to Oscar.

Then the three of them vanished.

‘How long before he becomes totally corrupted?’ Kara asked, smiling.

Nevin shrugged and sat down in the co-pilot’s seat and rested his head in his hands.

‘A lot things just went so wrong that my head is all twisted the wrong way, cariad.’

Kara looked as concerned as one could through sunglasses. ‘What?’

‘No-eyed deer.’ Nevin said, solemnly, but his heart wasn’t in it.

*

When Vinny woke up, for some reason he couldn’t move. The last thing he remembered was sheer panic and Wyn frantically giving the order to take them all up. Then a weird sense of being safe and looked after, half asleep somewhere warm and gentle. Now he was back the real world again, goodness knows where, and full of the dreadful sick certainty that something appalling had happened to the earth and it was absolutely, completely all his fault, because now all he could hear in his head was Gaia, screaming in pain and he knew he had failed her. He just knew it. It was like a hole had been torn in his heart. The sickness gradually translated into panic and actual nausea and he struggled and retched.

‘It’s going to get out. What are we going to do?’ Said a tiny voice beside his ear. It occurred to him that he hadn’t yet opened his eyes, so he did so and turned to his left where the voice had been.

Everything was useless. Everything so far and he hadn’t been able to save the earth. He hadn’t even seen it coming. What was anything worth, what was it worth fighting, being King (whatever that was) if he couldn’t save the earth, couldn’t save Dave, or any of the werewolves, or any of the people in his home town, anybody. There wasn’t any point. He might as well just lie here until he died. But he was starting to get a cramp in his side.

Standing a few inches from his nose was a tiny red person with a cherrylike head vastly out of proportion with its spindly arms and legs. His eyes widened. He turned his head back round and saw he was surrounded by tiny people staring at him, and also that he was restrained to the floor with some kind of net over him.

‘Excuse me.’ He said. ‘What’d you guys tie me up for?’

‘We’re really very sorry.’ Said the one by his head. ’But we don’t want any more trouble, and one more of you would be too much. We didn’t want you to join the others. We know you’re new, we saw you appear out of no-where, so we think they don’t know you’re here.’

‘Woah, woah. Back up. Others? Trouble? I’m completely new to this here situation, see, I think I must’ve been dumped here by some kind of teleporter accident or some shit, so if you’d just see your way to assuming I don’t know anything about you or this place, I’d be obliged.’

‘We are the Mansicka.’ Said the tiny berry person by his head. ‘And this is our planet.’

‘Kay. Would you let me out? This is kinda uncomfortable.’

‘We can’t, sorry. You’ll do what the others did.’

‘What’s that?’ Said Vinny. Questions like ‘what others’ and ‘why am I tied up?’ queued up neatly in his head, pushing all other thoughts out of the way.

‘Go out to the Big Island and make us work for them and bring them food by boats.’

What others was next in line. ‘What others?’

‘The other big people.’

‘People my size?’ Someone had queuejumped and things were starting to come together in his heavily-jarred brain.

‘Yes.’

‘And they’re making you work for them?’

‘Yes. Bring them food and suchlike, and leave it on the shores. Otherwise they’ll come and destroy us all. They’ll stomp on us.’

‘That’s freakin’ nasty of them.’ If there was one thing that pissed him off it was the underdog being trampled under the heel of tyranny (though he wouldn’t have used those exact words and was usually the underdog himself anyway). ‘How come ya don’t kick their asses?’

‘They’re huge!’ One of the other tiny people said.

‘Okay. Okay.’ He concentrated. Thinking about anything else other than the sick feeling right now was useful. ‘I promise I won’t do that, so will you let me out?’

‘We’re not falling for that one.’ Said the first tiny person. He seemed someone of importance and was wearing robes embroidered with tiny, tiny intricate stitching. ‘Do you think we’re stupid?’

‘No, geez no. But, I’m sorry guys, I’m getting’ a serious cramp here and I’m just gonna rip myself out of this anyway whether you let me out or not.’

There was a general shuffling movement and the crowd of berry people moved backwards nervously as one. Vinny tried struggling, flexing and relaxing muscles. The net didn’t budge and was tied quite tight. He could turn into the big furry whatever-it-was but he doubted the tiny people would be able to run away before he crushed them all, and he didn’t want to do that. He could move his arms a little though. He turned his left hand over carefully and caught a section of the net in his claws. Long months of wandering the galaxy with all sorts of weird stuff happening to him had left some of them broken and others long and sharp, but sadly not sharp enough for cutting wiry nets. Next possibility. Two hard, heavy metal things (one of which was a major contributor to the cramp) lay against his sides under Fendegist’s cloak. Once again, watched closely by the berry people, he wriggled so he could get two fingers under the top of the left-hand claw and began to jiggle it out. The glint of metal caused the berry people to step back rather more hastily. He got a proper grip on the claw and slid it out onto his chest, turned it so the fingers bent upright and pulled the net across Dumla’s metalwork. It slit down the middle like a freshly killed hog and spilled Vinny-guts upwards as he pulled it off himself. As he got up, something hard, cold and round rolled out of a fold of his cloak. He picked it up. It was a round ball, and looked as if it were made of black glass. It was sort of pretty. He decided he’d give it to Wyn as a present, and slipped it into a pocket. Several berry people were running. Vinny watched them go and shrugged, sliding the Claw of Fendegist onto his hand, repeating the motion with the right one. He swirled the cloak around him theatrically, picked up his hat from the floor and jammed it on his head.

‘Whereabouts are these others, then?’

The Berry King said nothing, but pointed towards where, a short way into the distance, one could see what looked like the seashore, lined with cliffs approximately the height of the average stair. Vinny nodded purposefully and marched off in that direction. When he reached what passed for a beach, he stepped down off the cliffs, shaded his eyes (narrowly avoiding slicing his ear off) and peered across the water to where, in the distance, he could see another shore.

He shrugged and walked into the water. It sloped gradually, becoming deeper at a barely noticeable rate, then hit some kind of continental shelf and Vinny suddenly found himself swimming and rather wet. He jammed the claws back into the cloak, which was particularly heavy, so he swung it around behind him where it was out of the way and began swimming.

It took about twenty minutes to reach the other shore, but he was able to walk for the last section and give his tired limbs a rest. As he emerged from the water onto the sand, he wrung his hat and sodden cloak out and strode up the beach, slightly less purposefully and more soggily than he had stridden down on the other side. As he walked, what he thought was mist gathered around him at waist height, and he realised it was in fact tiny clouds and whilst his head was in the slightly blueish sun, his feet were being rained on.

A shape loomed out of the mistfogclouds ahead. As he went closer it became clearer. It was a normal-sized, well-built shack.

‘Looks like it’s raining again.’ Said someone Vinny couldn’t see very clearly in front of it. The comment was followed by the laughter of another person. The laughter made it clear that this joke had already been made many, many times and yet it still wasn’t getting any less funny, or at least the laugher wasn’t going to let it.

There were two elderly ladies sat on wooden chairs outside the shack. One was slightly taller and scruffier than the other who was very prim with short grey hair. The taller had a certain purplish tone about her skin, and eyes that suggested she wasn’t entirely, or at all human, as did the total lack of hair. They looked like they were on holiday, both were wearing flowery shirts that looked the worse for wear. The table between them held very small, delicate glasses of some drink or other. There were what looked like straws in it, but on closer inspection seemed to have been whittled from wood, or possibly tiny trees. A closer look at the shack revealed that it was in fact made of hardened sandy mud blocks.

Vinny studied the ladies with his head on one side. They were hardly what he was expecting, but it was the principle of the thing really. He took a step forward out of the ‘rain’.

‘Morning ladies, funny weather we’re having, hey?’ He said, jovially, doffing his soggy hat and holding it respectfully against his chest.

‘Oh, it’s just as usual Mist…’ The neater lady said, then stopped and stared. The other one squinted at him over her unusually long pale-purple nose. ‘My goodness..’ Said the first. ‘Are you real?’

‘Real as real ma’am. Pinch me if you like.’ He offered a furry paw.

The lady looked at it with slight disgust and smiled with her mouth, not her eyes. ‘A visitor? We haven’t had a visitor.. well, ever.’

‘And who might you be?’ The other one said, leering nastily.

‘Oh, I might be anyone, ma’am. But as far as I know I am, His Majesty King Vincit Omnibus-de Lanseau of Wendauer.’

‘And the gosling you rode in on!’ Cackled the purple lady.

‘Really… your majesty.’ The neat lady said, twisting her mouth in an unpleasant smirk. ‘Well, we’re our Majesties Queen Dora and Aztryin of this planet here.’

‘Mansickia. Stupid name. We’re thinking of renaming it.’ The purple lady, most probably Queen Azytryin informed him, offhandly.

‘And what brings you’re here, your Majesty?’ Probably-Queen-Dora asked.

‘Teleporter accident, your Majesty.’ Vinny replied without batting an eyelid. ‘As soon as I can contact my people to come pick me up I’ll be out of here, and you ladies are free to come along of course.’

‘No, we’d rather stay.’ Mostlikelyqueen Azytryin snapped. ‘We like the people.’

Vinny stared her directly in the eyes and matched Probably-Queen-Dora’s wry smirk. ‘Zat so? They don’t seem to like you. Or anybody our size at all, given I just hadta cut my way outta the net they tied me to the floor with. ‘

‘Oh. You’ve met them then.’ Dora said, performing the almost impossible task of looking down her nose at him (it involved some tilting back of the head). ‘Our subjects.’

‘Yup, and I must inform you ladies that in …. Subju-gating….’ It was a good word he’d read in a magazine once and he was on a roll now. ‘…the people of this planet here namely the planet Mansickia, you’re in contravention of section forty-two of the Intergalactic Committee for Harmonisation Good Ruling Practice and I will have to report you to the appropriate authorities in this solar system.’

‘Bugger off.’ Snapped Azytryin, pointing an ancient pistol she had produced from no-where at him. ‘Nosy busybody. Walk away and I’ll not think about shooting you in the back.’

Vinny gave brief thought to his Glock, which was in a pocket somewhere, unloaded and probably too wet to load or work. But Vinny had been in more bar brawls, mexican standoffs and other dodgy business than the average mafiosi. He grinned, shrugged, turned around and began to walk away, apparently folding his arms, but in truth reaching into the cloak and siting his paws in the claws. He detected the slow click of someone pulling a trigger very slowly on an ancient gun, twitched his mouth, then dropped to the floor as the blast went over his head, did a backward-roll-with-a-twist, narrowly avoiding tangling himself up in the cloak and came up with his right claw to Azytryin’s neck and the other wrenching the gun from her hand. The astonished alien found herself relieved of her weapon, spun round and held up against Vinny’s soaking bulk with a claw at her neck. Vinny extracted the gun from his other hand, flipped the safety on with his teeth and pocketed it.

‘Now ma’am, there’s no need to get all violent.’ He said pressing the claw just far in to not quite draw blood.

‘No, there’s certainly no call for that.’ She stammered.

‘Cause jeez, if you get me mad, I might just snap you like a lil purple twig, mightn’t I?’

‘Indeed you might.’

‘Indeed I might, and Miss Dora if you even think about going for whatever it is you’re reaching for down the back of your panties, you better kiss goodbye to your friend here. Hands where I can see ‘em.’

Hands were raised.

‘Now, you ladies and I are going for a little swim. You look like you could use the exercise anyway. And then there are going to be some apologies, before we all leave those nice little people in peace.’

‘You big hairy fool.’ Miss Dora said. ‘What do you think you’re doing? What right have you to come down here…’

‘Justice, Miss Dora. I am The King. I set An Example.’

‘You’re bloody delusional.’ Azytryin muttered. ‘And there’s knife in my right hand that’s going into your balls unless you let me go.’

That was it. Vinny snapped. He’d had quite enough of these old bitches, and basically everything. He hurled Azytryin at her partner-in-old-lady-crime, landing them both in a heap and stalked over to stand over them as they untangled themselves from each other. His eyes were lit unholy red and the darkness was beginning to gather around him, insinuating itself into the folds of the cloak.

‘ON YOUR FEET!’

‘Bugger off.’ Said Dora from floor level. Vinny picked her up by the back of her shirt. She bit him, or at least tried to and nearly broke a tooth on the claw.

‘If you keep shitting me, I swear I’ll snap your necks like dry twigs, so help me.’

‘Shame on you, bullying helpless old ladies.’ Azytryin said. Vinny paused for a second, slightly ashamed, then growled and picked her up likewise, dragging them both off wriggling as if they weighed no more than a pair of wrinkly old beanbags. Which they didn’t.

He tossed them into the water. ‘Swim, bitches.’

‘Shan’t.’

‘Bugger off.’

Extremely irritated, he picked them up once again and waded into the water, depositing them in front of him. ‘Swim or I’ll freaking gut you. I got a hand behind the both of you and if you even THINK about any funny business…’

They swam. Surprisingly well. All three emerged, tired and wet on the other side. They turned and glared at Vinny as they waded out of the water.

‘What do you think you’re looking at? Walk!’ Vinny yelled.

They did. After some walking, they came to a city that covered about the same amount of groundspace as a sizeable ballroom. Outside, a delegation of Berry People stood, with cartloads of what appeared to be food. Vinny halted the sullen old ladies a few feet away.

The King of the Tiny People raised a tiny megaphone to his mouth and yelled in a tinny voice: ‘Oh great huge people, we have brought the offerings for you as required…’

‘Don’t want ‘em.’ Vinny said. ‘These two wrinkly old birds got something to say to you guys, dontcha?’ He prodded both in the back at the same time.

There was a pause.

‘Sorry.’ Said Dora, quietly and grudgingly.

‘Srry.’ Azytryin added, even more quieter and grudginglyer.

‘There, that wasn’t so hard now, was it, girls?’

There was a pause. Then one of the tiny berry people somewhere in the crowd began to laugh. The laugh spread, and shortly mutated into a cheer.

‘However can we thank you?’ The Tiny King of the Berry People shouted tearfully into his Megaphone.

‘Nothing needed. Kingly code, help those in need and such.’ Vinny said, tipping his hat, politely, and once again narrowly avoided slicing his ear off and his hat into ribbons. He grabbed the ladies by the back of the shirt again and pulled them up close, shivering. ‘Allrighty ladies. If you’ll give me a minute…’ He closed his eyes, the better to concentrate.

MIRIAM!

And, as if from very far away. Vinny? Where are you?

Fucked if I know, kiddo. Where are you?

On your flagship. Vinny, some extremely bad things have happened.

Everything that he had temporarily blocked out came rushing back. Vinny fought down the nausea.

I know. Can you get me outta here? Also these two I’m holding here, who I’m gonna be locking in the deepest, ickyest dungeon on Erendauer.

There was never a poof or anything interesting when Miriam appeared. One second she wasn’t, next she was. There was a gasp from the tiny people. She turned round and looked at them then at Vinny and the old ladies. She said nothing, but merely raised an eyebrow.

‘Just get us out of here.’ Vinny asked. ‘Please.’

And thusly, there was an absence of four people.

And there was a pause.

‘What do we do with all this food then?’ Said a Tiny Berry Person Official to the Tiny Berry Person King.

‘Eat it ourselves, I suppose.’ The Tiny Berry Person King suggested.

*

Jon knelt before a hastily salvaged gold crucifix that had been set up in the mess hall of the Wendauerian flagship, praying amongst several other knights. It was something to do. A silence had enveloped the ship. Humans walked around in a daze. Wendauerians stood back for them respectfully in corridors, every one feeling guilty for thinking to themselves ‘Thank goodness it wasn’t my planet’. Or they would have if they weren’t Wendauerians and not really given to guilt.

There had been about an hour of confusion when it was discovered that Vinny had vanished, but then Miriam had brought him back along with two old ladies who he ordered to be clapped in the brig immediately. No-one asked why. In fact, Vinny was the only person on the ship now who seemed able to act normally. He had ordered the bridge crew to turn the ship around and head for Erendauer as DAMOCLES probably had all sorts of traps waiting for them if they stayed here any more. The Wendauerians, still unsure of how to act, after the King had given the order and the Queen had confirmed it, obeyed instantly, glad to finally have a purpose. Oscar was nowhere to be found. Assumpta said he had told her he needed to think alone for a while and gone off. She seemed upset about this, but was hiding it well. Aris and David, both of whom had at least some connection with earth had retired to quarters. Wyn was apparently grinning and letting Vinny do whatever he felt like. Almost everyone had immediately become avid supporters of the War On DAMOCLES, however much the acronym sounded like something you stuck up your nose.

Lord, prayed Jon, head bowed I trust in you, as I have always, through the many obstacles sent against us. Lord, I need your guidance. We are lost in a sea of conspiracies, information, powers and principalities. We have need of your light. I ask of you, reveal what we must do. He opened his eyes to look up and beseech Adonai upon the cross. Miriam was standing in front of him.

‘Is something the mat..’ He began, and then stopped, because unless she’d learned some new trick, Miriam definitely should not be semi-transparent, nor accompanied by a roman soldier who slightly resembled what Jon saw whenever he looked in a mirror. In fact, when he looked closer, the girl before him merely looked very very much like Miriam.

‘Ask and it shall be given to you, seek and ye shall find.’ Almost-Miriam said.

No-one else can see them, Jon thought, noting that no-one interrupted their praying or noticed that the silence of the dead had been broken.

‘Knock and the door shall be opened unto you.’ Legionary-Jon added.

‘Take heart, child.’ Almost-Miriam said. ‘The Lord has need of you.’

‘Defend the Daughter of Fáil.’ Legionary-Jon said. ‘Keep close vigil over the Angel and the King and pray for them. There is one here on this ship who brings a message for the Dragon Who Owes You A Wish. Thou shalt know them by St Andrew’s Cross. Pass on the message. Remember always that you are the vessel of the Lord and tolerate no injustice nor stray on paths you know to lead to evil.’

Then both of them faded away, and were slowly replaced by three women. One was tall and delicate, with a cloud of bluish-white hair. She wore a robe of such dark blue to be almost black and smiled beatifically with a hint of hidden viciousness. The second he knew, it was Kathy Omnibus. She wore a robe the deep russet red of fallen leaves. The third stirred a memory deep within him. Her long wavy blonde hair curled around her shoulders and her deep blue eyes held a terrible sadness and longing. She wore a robe as white as the deep fleece of a day-old lamb.

Jon’s lips barely parted. ‘…Mother…’

Kathy grinned, Vinny’s grin, but her first and cheerfully leaned an arm on the shoulder of each of the women. ‘Do we got any messages for the boy then, girls?’ She said. Jon’s mother smiled. The tall woman shot her a look of pure exasperation. ‘Stupid symbolic nonsense.’ She said. ‘You tell my girls to behave themselves or there will be trouble when I get my hands on them. Especially Skysong.’

‘Tell Vinny and Jake I’m proud of ‘em for making up.’ Kathy said. ‘See Jon, we know you guys are all down right now, so we’ve all been sent to make sure you all know you gotta keep going and everyone’s behind you. You’re not alone. You’re prophet and saint and all that jazz so you get to carry the messages.’

Jon’s mother knelt down in front of her son and enveloped him in a hug he couldn’t feel. Then she rested an ethereal hand on his cheek. ‘Strong and righteous. I will always love you, my son. Bless you.’

Jon fought back the tears. She stood up and backed away, blowing him a kiss.

Kathy Omnibus turned round and reached behind he with both hands and pulled two other women apparently into existence. ‘Your turn, quit hiding.’ She said. She and Ellamina pushed them to the front. One wore jeans under a lab coat and had brown hair. Jon recognised certain areas around the chin. The other was thin and silver-haired and looked young, but aged as if a long illness had sickened her to the point of death.

‘Hm.’ The first said, adding another death glare to the collection aimed at Kathy. ‘I don’t have anything to tell “Josephus”. We pretty much squared everything between us. But Elsie shouldn’t have got my mother’s best curtains. She was always eyeing ‘em. That’s been niggling at me. Just tell him I hope he gets this problem sorted out. Behind him all the way, and such.’

The other woman looked down at him over the bosom of an amazingly well cut, stylish and expensive dress. It was obvious which side Nike got her… attributes from.

‘I have nothing to say to either of Wilhelm’s spawn.’ She said, bitterly, her beautiful mouth framing the words perfectly. ‘I performed the task required of me, they should not expect any more for I will not give it, whatever that foolish human behind me thinks I should.’

‘Jeezus Christ.’ Kathy sighed, causing a simultaneous twitch in both Jon and his mother. ‘What the hell did your kids do to deserve that?’

Wieslawa Gauss turned around and looked at her with hollow eyes, then vanished.

‘Whoo, she’s a funny one.’ Kathy said. ‘Well, we should get the hell outta here.’

Jon’s mother winced again.

They turned to go and began to vanish, leaving Jon kneeling, stunned.

‘I really wish you wouldn’t say things like that. You know, the h word.’ Jon’s mother said as she vanished.

‘Jeez, lighten up.’

Someone was tapping Jon on the shoulder.

‘Jonathan.’ It was a knight he recognised. They had shared classes and been good friends before he had been sent to find the 14MPOITU. His name was Janus, Jon remembered, but everyone called him Jak. ‘You were in a trance.’

A lot of other people were staring at him.

Jon got to his feet. ‘Do not fear. I am well.’

No-one looked convinced.

*

Ricardus Whutty sat with his feet up on a chair in the royal library of Wendauer reading a book of extremely depressing Wendauerian poetry by an extremely depressing, long dead Wendauerian poet who had lost his entire clan and home town in a stampede of some huge beast or other. The introduction to the book appeared to be slightly disappointed that he hadn’t eradicated the entire stampede in revenge, but rather written depressing poetry about it instead. Whutty couldn’t understand why, but put it down to ‘just how Wendauerians are’.

He was worried about Chromelips. Very worried. But his normal background apathy level made it difficult to spot this.

‘How much longer do you think it will take?’ Asked Kylie, looking at her watch impatiently.

Whutty stared at her. Stupid, stupid dragon creatures. That was a thought for which he could probably have been executed, so he took gleeful pleasure in thinking it. The woman annoyed him immensely. She wasn’t even a particularly close cousin, being almost entirely dragon where he was almost entirely human. Why she insisted on hanging around him was utterly beyond his comprehension. ‘Knowing dhem.’ He said, concealing great pleasure. ‘Dhey probably got sidetracked on dhe way rescuing some fuzzy kittens or engaging in some scary ancient rite on an alien world somewhere. What dhe ‘ell do you want dhem do come back for anyway?’ ‘I am ensuring the safety of the Archduke.’ ‘Hah.’ ‘Also I have received intelligence that they have somehow destroyed the supposedly-invincible leader of the Pink Lotus. Which is..amazing.. I was so sure they’d die.’ ‘Dhey’re a lucky bunch. Yet also at dhe same time, not such a lucky bunch.’ He said, thinking about Krystal. He shrugged and sat back with the book in front of his face, indicating that he was not open to idea of engaging in further conversation. Kylie snorted, somehow making the uncouth action amazingly sexy and picked up the book she was reading. It was a very popular volume, a PhD Thesis the recommended text in its particular field, and a well-thumbed copy. It described the basic premises involved in producing self-replicating nanobots and went on to suggest the hypothesis that since all living, and eventually sentient creatures evolved by producing random errors in DNA and retaining advantageous mutations, therefore the key to life itself must be in the imperfect copy, and the reason it had been impossible so far to create machines that were alive was that machines could only make perfect copies of themselves. It then went on to describe the author’s experiments with machines pre-programmed to make mistakes in self-replication, putting them under various evolutionary stresses until they evolved so far as to produce a rudimentary ant-like collective sentience. She read it often, not just for the content, but for the inside cover. There was a photo there, of the author, for whom it had won a few prizes. Whutty glanced over at the title and read it: “Nanolife: Creating Sub-Molecular Self-Replicating Error-Prone Mechanicals. Josephus de Viaminima.” * ‘I have not had one word from her Frankly I wish I were dead When she left, she wept a great deal; she said to me, "This parting must be endured, Sappho. I go unwillingly." I said, "Go, and be happy but remember (you know well) whom you leave shackled by love…’ -Sappho.

Jon sighed and walked off to look for St Andrew’s Cross, or someone to pass a message on to. He walked for a good while, down quite a few corridors, being avoided by Wendauerians until someone said:

‘Good morning.’

‘Good morning.’ Said Jon. It was a hunched old man with a bald head, a long white beard and twinkling blue eyes, dressed in a simple brown robe. Once again, Jon was reminded of someone, but couldn’t think who. He bowed, assuming it was an elderly lay-brother. ‘Have we met?’

‘I doubt it.’ The old man chuckled. ‘I was visiting an old friend in your order. Lucky I was too, given the tragedy. He stuck out a wrinkled hand awkwardly. ’Ludwig.’

‘Jonathan.’ Jon said, shaking it.

‘Oh, Hendricks’ protégé, the miracle worker. Yes, I’ve heard of you, much like half the galaxy. Excuse me, why are you starting at my hand?’

‘Pardon me.’ Jon said.

‘Is it the scar? Oh, I got that trying to sort out a fight between two of my cousins. Irritating lot. Glad I’ll never have to see them again.’

On the old man’s hand was a diagonal cross.

‘Forgive me, sir.’ Jon said. ‘This will sound like an odd question, but hast thou any message for Werner Gauss?’

‘Any relation to Wilhelm?’

‘Son.’

‘Oh, the poor boy. Mind you, the lot of ‘em are doomed to be arrogant cwnts, so he probably doesn’t care.’

‘He does.’

‘Oh, the poor boy. In that case, tell him to go and read some of my poetry. It always cheers me up. Number 43, The Gilded Lily should do nicely.’

‘I shall certainly do so.’ Jon said, bowing and wondering what use a poem was. ‘Pardon my further questioning, but art thou perchance a dragon?’

‘What gave it away?’ The old man chuckled. ‘Ludwig von Sphexoren. Rumours of my death are greatly exaggerated, mostly because I told all my friends to say I was dead. I’d be obliged if you’d keep up the pretence for me. The last thing I want to see now is any of my family.’

Jon bowed again. Ludwig gave him a little wave and walked off before anything more could be said. Jon blinked and shrugged.

‘Krigsley!’

Jon turned and smiled. ‘Jak?’

‘I positively demand that you pay us some attention.’ The knight said. His companion nodded and grunted slightly. ‘We have followed you..agh, thee, for the last twenty minutes. Aren’t you even going to talk about what happened? Where have you been? Last we heard you were canonised!’

‘Ah, brothers.’ Jon said, deciding that messages could wait for now. ‘Many, many things have passed since I saw thee last. Thou wilt not believe the tales. After I was sent to retrieve the fourteenth most powerful object in the universe, I have been on many adventures with Vincit, who is now King of Wendauer.’

‘Seen him.’ The larger knight said. He was huge and bulky and wore furs over his knightly SOAKID tunic. His head was shaven and his eyebrows were beetle-black and almost joined in the middle. ‘Halfbreed.’ He added, darkly. ‘Fur. Demon’s teeth.’

‘Do try not to insult the owner of the ship you’re on, Stat.’ The knight addressed as Jak said, rolling his eyes. The eyes in question were cornflower blue. Obviously he, unlike his friend had been ignoring the SOAKID rules regarding head shaving, as his curly corn-blonde hair was several inches long. He was unhealthily thin and his nose was aquiline and his face regal-looking. ‘However tainted his blood may be.’

Jon felt his anger rise for a second, but it was quickly quelled by his deep soul-rooted peace. Nevertheless, how dare they insult Vinny? But then it occurred to him that when he’d last seen Janus Kinase and Stanislaus Rothund he would have said a similar thing himself. When had he changed? He had been wandering around with half-bloods and aliens for so long he had totally forgotten to be disgusted by them. And then there had been Miriam and the incident on the asteroid and everything had been so different. The colour of people’s skin had no longer really mattered to him. Half unconsciously, he rested his hand on the back of his neck and felt the swastika tattoo.

‘What’s this?’ Stat asked, pointing to the other tattoo, the one on Jon’s face.

‘Oh, tis naught.’ Jon said, thoughtfully. ‘Healer’s mark.’

‘Looks a bit…pagan.’ Jak said.

‘Aye, tis so.’ Jon agreed. Jak raised an eyebrow.

Jon, look over towards the door on your left, right down the corridor.

Jon did so. Miriam was standing there looking at him.

‘Excuse me.’ Jon said. ‘I have messages to deliver. I shall speak to you later.’ He walked away.

‘Hey, wait!’ Jak called, but Jon ignored him.

‘Who were those people?’ Miriam asked as she slipped out of the doorway to join him walking down the corridor.

‘Old friends.’ Jon replied, frowning.

‘May I meet them?’

‘Not whilst thou weareth the face of a Jew.’ Jon said, darkly.

Miriam’s face did not change. ‘Oh.’ She said, thoughtfully. ‘I see. Well.’

Then her face did change. In fact, it became paler, much paler. Her nose thinned, her hair straightened and became blonde, her eyes went from brown to pale blue and she gained a few inches of height. Her near-adolescent plumpness thinned up to almost-anorexic willowy adulthood and her breasts lost a cup size. The corners of her mouth turned up in a manner horribly reminiscent of Nevin.

Jon’s eyes widened.

‘Better?’ She said, in a voice a tone or two higher than her usual alto.

‘That is rather disturbing.’ Jon said, smiling a little.

‘It makes a change.’ She said, shrugging.

‘Dost thou know whence I might find Vinny, Windsong or Gauss?’ Jon asked.

Blonde-Miriam’s eyes flickered for a nanosecond. ‘Vinny’s on the bridge.’ She said.

Jon nodded.

They headed for the bridge, where indeed, Vinny was, as was Windsong.

‘Hey Jon.’ Said Vinny. ‘Hey Mir. Love the new look.’

Jon looked at Miriam and then back at Vinny.

‘She smells pretty much the same whatever she looks like.’ Vinny explained. He looked at Jon.

‘How are you doing?’ Windsong asked Jon. ‘You know, the thing.’

Jon looked down, sadly. ‘It is a tragedy indeed, but we must continue the fight.’

‘See, Jon knows.’ Vinny said. ‘Once we get back to Erendauer, people are going to pay. We just got a message from Sartoreus. SURTR declared war on us and Nike, the fucks.’

‘I told Skai not to start any wars.’ Windsong said, grinning mock-hopelessly. ‘I did, didn’t I?’

‘You gotta admit, she was right with this one.’ Vinny replied. ‘Anyway, we have an ass to kick now, so we’re gonna start kicking. Plus, intelligence says DAMOCLES is behind this too. So it’s an ass we really really really want to kick.’

Jon nodded. ‘I believe there will be many here eager to join in this kicking of arse.’ He said, solemnly. ‘Windsong?’

‘Yes Jon.’

‘Your mother says you and Skysong are to behave yourselves or there will be trouble when she gets her hands on you.’

Windsong’s mouth fell open.

‘Vinny, your mother says she is proud of you for making up with your father.’

‘You been time travelling again, bro?’ Vinny asked, curiously.

‘Oh no, she’s going to kill me…’ Windsong said, horrified.

‘No, I don’t think..’ Jon tried. ‘I don’t think so. Er, I must hurry, have you seen Gauss?’

‘Not since the, y’know, the thing.’ Vinny said. ‘I think he’s staying outta everyone’s way.’

‘I don’t know either.’ Miriam added, before Jon asked. ‘I’ve got no connection to him. I’ve never been inside him.’

Everyone tried not to twitch at the choice of words.

‘I mean my nanobots, you perverts.’ Miriam snapped.

‘Ehe..’ Began Vinny.

‘We must seek the old fashioned way.’ Jon interrupted. ‘Seek and ye shall find.’

They sought.

They found, eventually, in the quarters that had been assigned to him.

‘Oh, hello Jon, nanogirl.’ Gauss said. ‘Love the new look. What can I do for you?’

‘I bring a message.’ Jon said. Then he stopped. He was not about to pass on what had been said by Gauss’ mother. ‘Or rather, I wish you to find something out for me.’

‘Wish?’ Gauss raised an eyebrow. ‘Be careful how you use that word around me.’

‘Would like, then.’ Jon corrected himself. ‘Know you of a poem by Ludwig von Sphexoren, entitled ‘The Gilded Lily?’.’

Gauss rolled his eyes. ‘As if this ship wasn’t depressing enough already, you want me to recite Sphexoren poetry?’

‘Please.’

‘Fine, fine. I’m sure I’ve read it. It’ll be in here somewhere.’ He tapped his head and smiled, searching through his draconic memory. ‘Yes, I remember, I had to learn practically all of his ‘Laments’ once as a punishment for failing in sword drill. He’s one of the less depressing Sphexorens, if you can believe that. It goes like this, but it loses something in the translation from draconic;

“Was it a millennium ago or yesterday you died?

I cannot remember, a millennium of millenniums it must have been

Since the light in your eyes faded.

I would destroy a sun, to engulf that planet

That planet I said so reminded me of your eyes

That night a millenium ago.

I would trample beneath my feet

the golden lilies that mock me by mimicking their hue

Your soul, it seems, has scorned me to fly among the stars

Found a better place than in your body in my arms

How I hate you.

In my dreams, I clutch your rotting, crumbling bones.

And weep, cry for the White Lady come envelop me in her wings,

To bind my eyes, mouth, hands and feet with black cloths

And push me into the dark water to drown.

Your heart lied, filling your cheeks with pretended eternal blush,

A feigned immortality.

But now I am scraped clean of joy and laughter,

Ready, a fitting grave marker for you.

Save in death, there is no Reunion.”’

’Less depressing?’ Miriam said, once Gauss had finished. ‘Good grief.’

‘Indeed.’ Said Gauss. ‘What was the point of that?’

‘I have no idea.’ Jon said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ‘The Lord Works in Mysterious Ways.’

‘He certainly does.’ Gauss said. ‘Now if you and the Lord don’t mind, I’d like to continue my katas.’

*

Perhaps you’re wondering what happened to Joel.

Well, after he left Oscar and Nevin, he went looking for Moebius. This wasn’t too hard. Moebius had told him where he could be found. And that was where Joel was.

‘MOE? WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU, YOU OLD BASTARD?’

‘Behind you.’

Joel didn’t jump. He just turned around very slowly. Moebius was stood behind him, with Klot.

‘Good morning. Is there a problem?’

‘You bet your bearded ass there’s a problem. Your daughter and her buddies tried to freakin’ molest me. Yeah, sure it wasn’t all bad, but I like to be WARNED about shit like that.’

‘Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry, aren’t I Tootoo?’

‘I’m talking to you, not to your stupid reindeer.’

‘Since you seem to have killed my daughter, good job there by the way, I’d say everything is square, wouldn’t you? Or possibly geodesic domed.’

‘Not by a long shot, Moe.’

‘Oh, cheer up, Joel. Look, I brought Klot. You can create havoc together. Won’t that be fun?’

‘No.’ Said Joel.

‘No.’ Said Klot.

‘You’re a pair of spoilsports.’

At that point, Joel experienced a sensation akin to having your mind sharply pulled backwards through a tunnel. Which is what it was, roughly. His eyes widened and he developed a sudden nervous tic in his left cheek muscle. When it passed, he was upset.

‘Which one of you did THAT??’

Moebius looked at him funny. ‘Oh, that’s interesting.’ He said. ‘Very interesting.’

‘WHAT’S INTERESTING?!’

‘Your cheek was twitching, of course.’ Moebius said, cheerfully. ‘It was funny. Haha.’

‘I’LL GIVE YOU FUNNY!!’ Joel roared, a large green fireball forming in his left hand. Or at least, that was what he assumed would happen. What happened instead was a slightly smaller, lurid yellow fireball formed in his hand and then went ‘phut’ and disappeared.

‘What the fuck????’

‘I think you’re ill.’ Moebius said.

‘ILL???’

‘Stop shouting.’

‘GRAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHH!!’

‘Stupid, stupid demon creature. What reason would we have for doing anything to you? I’m sure you’ll recover in time. Now, Klot is about to summon his friend the Black Fire to take command of the minds of all his faithful Schwarzwyrmritters and gather them to him from where they’ve all been carefully listening in to everything the Gamezohans have been planning for a long, long time. And then we’re all going to join SURTR and DAMOCLES and wreak wonderful, wonderful horror and doom on the Gamezohans and the Wendauerians and the Dewnheem and the various other independent systems and planets and all the good people of the galaxy and destroy it and then recreate it anew and wonderful. I want you to help.’

Joel thought about this. It sounded like fun. There were a couple of snags though. Firstly, he rather liked the galaxy. It was where he kept most of his stuff, and where he intended to have continue having slightly more long term fun. One could never be certain of what kind of fun could be had in a new galaxy. Also, if they wreaked horrible doom and destruction on the Gamezohans, that would mean wreaking horrible doom and destruction on Nike. And Nike was carrying his child. His child. His.

Something fierce, violent and protective had just awoken in, or rather been passed to Joel, though he didn’t know it. He just knew that no-one was going to fucking TOUCH what was his.

‘Go lick each other’s asses in hell.’ He said, and stalked off.

Moebius started laughing. The laughter gradually scaled up through disturbing to hysterical. Klot looked at him and sighed.

*

-Hey Angel? Up for a rematch? David grinned and waved at Oscar.

Oscar turned around from his food very, very slowly and looked at him with leaden eyes.

‘Oh. David. Hiya.’ He said, quietly.

-Is something up? David leaned his elbows on the table.

Oscar looked up at the ceiling. ‘Yeah. I think I let someone trick me into doing something stupid.’

-Anything you want to talk about?

‘Not really. Could you leave me alone, please.’ Good grief, he’d almost yelled that. ‘I’m sorry.. I don’t mean to be rude.’

-It’s cool, I get it. David shrugged.

‘Brother Oscar?’

Oscar sighed, irritatedly. ‘Hi Jon.’

Jon glanced at David, then back at Oscar. ‘I shall not keep thee long, brother. I have several messages to pass on. Your mother asks me to say she hopes you get this problem sorted out, she is behind you all the way, and also that your aunt should not have got her best curtains.’

Oscar looked at Jon. ‘If I didn’t know you so well Jon, I’d think you were on drugs. That was one helluva weird thing to say. I don’t remember anything about any curtains. In fact, I don’t remember anything about any mother, but I suppose I must have one.'’ His eyes suddenly widened and he clutched at the sleeve of Jon’s coat. ‘Wait, she didn’t tell you how to get the problem sorted out, did she?’

Jon looked startled. ‘No. Is there something with which thou needst help?’

‘Yes.’ Said Nevin, appearing out of no-where next to him.

-Only he won’t tell anyone what it is. David said.

‘You go away.’ Oscar said, glancing at Nevin. ‘This is all your fault.’ He paused. ‘No, no it’s not. You told me what to do and I did it wrong.’

‘Arse to that.’ Nevin said, pointedly, edging away from Jon a little. ‘Should have given you a proper warning.’

‘I want to kill things. Everything annoys me beyond imagining. Is this what it’s always like?’ Oscar said, helplessly. ‘Help me.’

Nevin looked up and pursed his lips, thoughtfully, then shrugged and nodded.

‘Please explain.’ Jon asked, patiently.

‘Nevin got some kind of drug for me, to try and get me and Joel back together. It does exactly what it says on the bottle. I just can’t control it. It’s like I’m channelling all Joel’s horrible impulses into me. Look.’ He slid his coat slightly off his back, revealing the top of his wing joints, where the tertiary feathers were visible, a medium pigeon-grey.

‘Oh.’ Said Jon.

-Oh. Said David.

‘Hmm.’ Said Nevin.

‘There you are!’ Said Jak, clapping a hand on Jon’s shoulder. Jon froze.

‘Hello.’ Said Miriam, appearing next to him.

Nevin looked her, up and down.

‘Hello Girl-Me.’ He said.

‘Hello Nevin.’ Miriam said, poking him playfully in the stomach.

‘Owch... that bur..’ He looked at his stomach, sniffed and then looked back up at her. ‘What are you looking like that for, cariad?’

‘You don’t mind, do you?’

‘S’pose not.’ Nevin replied, eyeing her nonchalantly. ‘Even looks better on you, I think.’

‘Introduce us to your friends then, Jon.’ Jak said, looking admiringly at Nevin and Blonde-Miriam (especially Miriam), and slightly less admiringly, but not with hostility at Oscar and David. Oscar frowned back at them, but smiled at Blonde-Miriam, and wondered why, who she was and who she reminded him of. Probably Sister Assumpta now he thought of it. That was probably why she seemed so attractive.

Internally Miriam smiled. It was certainly interesting to play with Vinny’s pheromones.

‘Ah.. yes.’ Jon stammered, trying not to stare at Miriam. ‘This is…These are..Everyone, these are the brethren of my order and my good friends…’

‘Janus. But call me Jak.’ Jak smiled.

‘Stat.’ Said Stanislaus, who utterly utterly hated the full version of his name.

‘No-one. No-one at all.’ Nevin said, sweeping a bow.

‘Silly.’ Miriam backhanded him playfully, making him twitch again. ‘His name is Nevin. Mine is.. Mary.’

‘Your brother?’ Jak asked.

‘Yes.’ Said Miriam before anyone else could say anything. Nevin developed a funny expression involving very wide eyes.

‘Oscar.’ Oscar said, really, really wishing everyone would go away and wondering if Nevin’s sister was a vampire too.

-David. Said David.

At about that point Jon realised why he recognised the person standing next to him, and was overcome with a deep dread from the very pit of his heart.

‘Are you ….Jewish?’ Jak asked. There was a terrible silence.

-Oh yes. David replied, cheerfully. -Absolutely. A jesus-killer is me. I notice you have a swastika on the back of your neck. Is there any particular reason for that or is it just a fashion statement?

‘Father forgive them. They do not know what they do.’ Jon said, addressing the prayer upstairs as the group began gradually to split into two sides.

Oscar stood up, shoving his chair back so violently it fell over. His left hand was beginning to flicker with an unholy yellow light.

‘You’re all extremely silly.’ Miriam said, exasperatedly. ‘Aren’t they?’

‘Too right. What’s all this?’ Nevin said, cheerfully taking Stat, a man considerably larger than him by the scruff of the neck and pulling him down to peer at the swastika on the back of his neck. He poked it.

‘Ow! Stupid crosses.’ He sucked his finger and released the astonished man, who unable to comprehend the thin young man’s extremely strong grip, did not retaliate.

‘Why does a cross burn you?’ Jak asked, stepping away from the entire group. ‘Why are you associating with these people, Jon? What’s happened to you?’

‘Something that clearly made him better than you.’ Oscar said, his voice barely above a whisper.

‘Please, friends.’ Jon began. ‘Let there be no fighting.’

‘I’ve got one of those as well.’ Nevin said, tugging at his sleeve and pulling it off (the arms on a Schwarzwyrmkommando uniform are designed to come off quite easily in case wounds need to be treated). ‘Look’. He thrust his shoulder into the centre of the argument where everyone was forced to pay attention to it. In the middle of his arm, around about a where an armband would have been worn, there was the mark of a swastika burned into the flesh. ‘Do you know where I got this? Birkenau.’

‘You never mentioned that.’ Miriam said, surprised.

‘I told you I hid among them for a while.’ Nevin said.

‘A myth.’ Jak said. ‘Put about by…’

‘Shut up.’ Nevin said. ‘Shut up. You weren’t there. You didn’t see it.’

‘Neither were you. You’d have to be six hundred years old, at least.’

‘Eight hundred or so, but who’s counting? I said shut up. In the eight hundred or so years since I died, I’ve been sick once.’ He held up one finger. ‘One time alone. And that’s when I walked into that camp and they were burning the bodies. It smelled like sweet roasting pigs. They were wheeling them into that oven on CARTS. They must’ve thought I had something bad, because I threw up all the last lot of blood I drank. What a waste. What a stupid, stupid waste of living, bleeding people. I didn’t eat properly the whole time I was there. You couldn’t get anything from them. They were all people made of sticks all crammed together in little huts. Some of them were only girls. I had to find secretaries or that bored Oberführer who was missing his wife if I wanted a decent meal. I had to stay there, while that STUPID, STUPID red armband with that STUPID, STUPID cross burned this into my arm, praying I didn’t speak cymraeg in my sleep ‘cause in that oven I would have gone up just like the rest of them, waiting for my chance to get out of there. In the end I ran away. Couldn’t stand it. It made me bloody glad I’m not one of you lot any more. I eat you. I don’t shovel you in an oven like bloody coal. So don’t you stand there with that stupid cross on your neck saying things about myths.’ Nevin spat the last word disgustedly through sharp teeth.

Silence reigned.

Stat chuckled.

‘I hope you don’t expect us to beli…’ Jak began.

Nevin hissed, opening his mouth inhumanly wide and revealing his fangs properly.

‘That’s enough!’ Oscar slammed his fist down on the table furiously and pushed Nevin and Jon out of the way to stand before Jak and Stat. His coat, which he had pulled down to show the state of his wings fell off, revealing the full spread, grey from joint to feathertip. Jak’s eyes widened. At that moment, Miriam reverted to her usual form (with the addition of Oscar’s original, snow-white wings).

‘Go away.’ Oscar said. ‘Go away before I do something I am going to regret.’

‘Angels… demons…’ Jak stammered, backing away. ‘When they said you’d become a saint, they meant it, didn’t they?’

Jon nodded, slowly.

Jak ran.

Stat looked at them, and raised one thick eyebrow. Then he shrugged, waved and followed his friend.

One again, silence reigned.

‘Well.’ Miriam said, causing the wings to disappear. ‘That was interesting.’

-Thanks, guys. David said, impressed. –I was going to kick some Nazi ass, but I think that little display was even better. Was that true? About the concentration camp?

‘Maybe.’ Nevin said, reattaching his sleeve. ‘Maybe not.’

-I had an ancestor who escaped one of those. Grandma said so anyway.

‘Really?’ Nevin enquired. ‘Fascinating. What? What? Oh you have to be joking.’

-I’m not. David looked confused.

‘Not you. Them.’ Nevin said, looking at his left shoulder.

‘ALERT. ALERT. HOSTILE CRAFT APPROACHING.’ Said the speakers.

‘We had best hasten to the bridge.’ Jon said. He took Oscar by the shoulder. ‘Brother Oscar, art thou well?’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Oscar said, brushing Jon’s hands away. Then he shook his head, as if clearing it. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll try my best to cope.’

‘Stay with us, do not wander off alone. If aught ill happens, I shall be ready.’ Jon warned.

*

On the bridge, Vinny and Windsong sat in the Royal Chairs, which were cool and swivelly so you could speak to anyone you liked on the bridge or on the viewscreen.

As it happened, the person on the viewscreen at this point in time was Admiral Thornton Octavius Wallington XXIX, whose battleclass cruiser was positioned directly in the path, and within weapons range of the Bloodthirster.

‘Can we help you, Admiral?’ Windsong asked, impatiently, wondering exactly what he was an Admiral of.

‘Indeed you can. I shan’t detain your majesties long. I have had an anonymous tipoff that there is a fugitive from justice on board your ship.’

Vinny shrugged. ‘Hell, Admiral there’s probably a dozen or so. Pretty much all me and my buddies have been fugitives from someone’s justice over the last few months.’

Admiral Wallington sighed, exasperatedly. Ah, so close and yet so far away. ‘This particular fugitive from justice is one my family has been hunting for some time.’ He said. ‘He went under many names, but I believe the most frequent was ‘Mad Nevin’.’

‘Oh, we got him, yeah.’ Vinny said, sporting a grin that said “I can prevaricate all day, buddy”.

At that point, Oscar, Jon, Miriam, David and of course, Nevin entered the bridge.

‘There he is!’ Admiral Wallington said, stating the blatantly obvious.

‘Oo are you?’ Nevin asked. ‘Oh wait… I know that nose… Wallington?’ His expression suggested that here was a wonderful new surprise.

‘I positively demand that you hand over that welshman!’ Wallington said.

‘Ah, you’ll have to catch me first, you big wally!’ Nevin said, raising a finger high and muttering under his breath that he was going to eat Valendil for supper when he got hold of him. ‘Beam me up, Kara!’

He vanished.

Shortly afterwards, a small ship that had been flying cloaked and undetected not far from the Wendauerian vessel uncloaked and zoomed off.

‘Good day to you, your majesties.’ Wallington snapped. ‘AFTER HI…’ The viewscreen went blank.

‘Well.’ Vinny said. He turned to the others. ‘That was…’

‘Enemy ship disengaging and leaving in pursuit of small vessel.’ The lieutenant at the front of the bridge cheerfuly informed everyone of what they had already guessed.

‘As I was sa…’

‘Approaching Erendauer.’ The lieuenant went on.

‘Oh great, yeah..’

‘Take us to the palace.’ Windsong ordered. Vinny gave up in disgust and got up out of his chair to join the others.

‘Brother, Oscar is unwell.’ Jon said.

‘I’ll be fine.’ Oscar said, quickly. ‘Leave me alone.’

‘Whoah, he is, isn’t he?’ Vinny said, resting a furry paw on Oscar’s forehead. Oscar backed away.

‘I said, leave me alone.’

‘You better see a doctor when we get back, buddy.’ Vinny said, looking worried. ‘I was gonna ask you to join the Hikari-no party, but I guess not. Listen, me and Wyn been talking. Wyn says she and I gotta stay and fight with Wendauer against the bad guys, so that means we can’t go to see the Hikari-no about that ROCKET thing the lawyer told us about, kay? So I want you guys should go and do that for me. Gauss too, if he wants, but he might have archduke stuff to do. Are you down with that? Anybody who wants to stay and fight with us can. David, I know you and Aris got stuff to do, but after that it’d be cool if you could stay and give us any info you have about SURTR.’

-Sure. It’s not like I really have anywhere else to go. David smiled.

‘Thanks, I appreciate it. Jon, Mir, Osc if he feels better, and Assumpta, maybe Gauss then?’

‘My sword is thine, brother and king.’ Jon said, solemnly.

Miriam nodded.

Oscar looked at them sidelong. He saw no reason why he shouldn’t go, but there was something inside him that was telling him he shouldn’t be taking orders from anybody, damnit. He pushed it down, angrily. ‘Of course.’ He said.

‘Knew I could count on you guys.’ Vinny exclaimed happily. ‘You’re the best. We’re going to get to the ROCKET first! Yeah!’ He punched the air.

Everyone smiled, nervously.

‘Yeah?’

Everyone nodded.

*

Jorgen, Fendegist and Sylvia wandered through the streets of Erendauer, confident in the knowledge that no-one would stop them as no-one who looked like they did and was walking around in plain sight could possibly be trying to hide in any way whatsoever. They passed in front of the palace and round the back where the Royal Spaceforce Hangar was, and strolled inside. No-one tried to stop them. See above. In fact, one saluted Fendegist and said ‘Good morning, your majesty.’

Clearly they were still getting used to their new king, and Fendegist had a naturally wendauerian-regal (read, hulking and scary) bearing anyway. He saluted them cheerfully in return. Jorgen looked up at the sleek Wendauerian spacecraft. ‘Those things actually fly? Like birds?’

Sylvia nodded.

‘By Odin’s Beard.’ Jorgen shook his head and sighed.

‘Where are the wings?’ Fendegist asked, peering at the engines.

‘Fool, they fly between the stars. There’s no air, so they don’t need wings.’ Jorgen glanced at Sylvia, checking this was right. She nodded.

Fendegist cuffed him round the back of the head.

‘Stop that immediately.’ Sylvia said.

‘Yes ma’am.’ Fendegist said, grinning at Jorgen who glared back, while wearing a silly grin.

‘Which ship, Mr Seer?’ Sylvia asked.

Jorgen pointed.

They walked. The boarding hatch happened to be open. They climbed inside.

‘Hello?’ Sylvia called.

‘Hwaat.’ Someone said, managing to hiss a word that completely lacked any sibilants through a full mouth. The ship reeked of blood.

Fendegist stalked towards the front and eyed the creature sat in the pilot’s chair tearing hunks of still warm and dripping flesh away from an unidentified carcass.

‘Goddæg, Hællo.’ He said.

‘Hello.’ The creature replied, eyeballing him in return with mismatched orbs. ‘What do you…. want?’

‘Uh.. tréowcwén helpa?’ Said Fendegist, using a strange compound saxon word meaning Treewoman.

‘Hello.’ Sylvia said. ‘We’re friends of the King’s. Could we please request a lift somewhere?’

Tiamat looked at Fendegist. ‘Friends, or…relations….’

‘Well, he’s a relation.’ Sylvia waved a hand at Fendegist.’

‘Mín cild.’ Fendegist said, helpfully. ‘Uh…Descendere?’

‘I don’t need… convincing… I’m bored.’ Tiamat said. ‘Where do you want to….go today?’

‘Hwæt?’ Said Jorgen.

‘Na.’ Said Sylvia. ‘Hwær gangan wé.’

‘Ah.’ Jorgen nodded. ‘Ðréodenkwadrantkentelissteorrasistemkoordinætsánféowersíexnigonseofoneahta slachántwáféowerfífseofondzero.’ He said, cheerfully.

‘Hwat?’ Tiamat raised an eyebrow.

‘Na.’ Said Jorgen. ‘Hwær.’

Sylvia sighed. ‘He said: Third quadrant, Khenteles star system, co-ordinates 146978/1124560.’

‘Gese.’ Jorgen nodded.

Tiamat pressed some buttons. ‘That’s a…. black hole.’ He said. ‘The exact co-ordinates of the….singularity, in fact..’

Sylvia looked sidelong at Jorgen.

‘That’s a black hole.’ She said.

‘What’s a black hole?’ Asked Jorgen.

‘A thing that will crush us like a giant stepping on an insect if we go near it.’

‘Oh.’ Said Jorgen. ‘That’s definitely where we’re supposed to go if we want to find Dumla.’

‘Definitely?’

‘Definitely.’

‘What’s a BlackHole again?’ Fendegist asked.

‘Shall I tell you the…. Interesting thing about this black hole..?’ Tiamat says. ‘There are asteroids inside…. what should betheeventhorizonforitssize.’

‘What did he say?’ Jorgen asked.

‘Black hole wrong.’ Said Tiamat, recognising ‘Hwæt’ and tapping the screen.

‘Blak hool hwrong?’ Jorgen repeated.

‘Gese.’ Tiamat said.

‘Ah. Hwæt?’

Tiamat and Sylvia looked at each other.

‘Let’s just go.’

And so, in a short while of lightspeedish travel they found themselves in the Khenteles star system near a black hole.

‘What now?’ Tiamat asked.

‘Fléoga in.’ Jorgen said, pointing. ‘Þuru.’

‘He just…said go through…didn’t he?’ Tiamat said.

‘Þuru. Gese.’ Jorgen nodded.

‘He actually said ‘fly through’ but ge… yes.’ Sylvia agreed.

‘You’re all completely…. batshit… absolutely wonderful….’ Tiamat said, gleefully hitting the throttle and shooting them þuru the fake black hole to the other side.

When they all opened their eyes again, Fendegist had picked himself up off the floor at the other end of the ship (he was a little too heavy for the seat belts to cope with) and Sylvia had detached her fingers from the sides of the chair, they noticed the satellite.

‘Greetings unknown ship and congratulations on finding us and having the ingenuity to get through our amusing little door. Welcome to the home of the Hikari-no. Might we ask your intentions? We would like to inform you that if they are hostile, we already have twenty satellites trained on your every move. We might add that they can detect cloaking devices.’

‘I know that voice!’ Fendegist roared. ‘Dumla, you ancient little git, it’s us!’

‘I would like everyone who doubted me to now apologise.’ Jorgen said, pointedly, folding his arms.

‘Oh, no-one doubted you, you stroppy old hen.’ Fendegist snapped.

‘Hmph.’ Jorgen exhaled, stroppily.

‘Please state your intentions.’ The satellite said.

‘Our intentions are not hostile.’ Sylvia said. ‘We come seeking refuge from the war. I am Dr Sylvia Darian-Marik.’

‘Greetings Dr Darian-Marik. Please wait while we determine whether you may be allowed clearance…’

The voice was silent.

‘Why is Dumla keeping us waiting?’ Fendegist asked, confused.

‘I don’t think that was your friend. I think it was just a recording of his voice.’ Sylvia replied.

Tiamat nodded. Probably due to her Dryadic Powers, all three of them could understand Sylvia at the same time, just not each other.

Jorgen and Fendegist stared at her.

‘You can write down… voices?’ Jorgen’s eyes were wide.

‘Ships that fly through space, writing down voices.’ Fendegist shrugged. ‘Strange times, brother. Strange times.’

‘That means you can listen to a man’s voice..after he’s… dead..’ Jorgen shuddered.

‘Men’s words are often repeated after they die in songs.’ Fendegist pointed out.

Jorgen nodded. ‘So th..’

He was interrupted by the familiar voice. ‘The satellite says you called me by name. Dr Darian-Marik?’

‘Yes.’ Sylvia said.

‘DUMLA!’ Fendegist roared. ‘WHAT ARE YOU KEEPING US WAITING FOR???’

‘..Can it be…? Wait, are you the new one.. no, he didn’t speak in saxon. Fendegist?’

‘YES!!!’

Sylvia sighed. Tiamat pointedly covered his ears.

‘The scans agree… .. amazing… aren’t you dead?’

‘Brief reprieve. Back for a bit.’ Jorgen said. ‘Long story. Involves an angel. Tell you all about it.’

‘What are you doing here?’

‘We’ve been told to go somewhere out of the way and stay alive.’ Jorgen said. ‘May we come in?…er..on…down…we’re in a starship..’

‘Yes, yes, tell your pilot to come on down.’

‘Ifyou don’t….mind.. I’d like to get back… after I’ve dropped you off…’ Tiamat said. ‘I’ll probably be…missed and questionsareannoying…’

Sylvia nodded.

Tiamat opened the throttle and pointed the nose down. Fendegist went flying to the back of the ship again.

*

Vinny sat in the royal bedchamber, thinking. He was rather nervous. Wyn was off discussing something with Sartoreus. She had just informed him that the King of Wendauer was expected to lead the armed forces in times of war. He had absolutely no idea of how to do this. He’d been in fights before, sure, but they were small scale affairs. He knew nothing of tactics or manoeuvres. He decided to ask Gauss, as he was sure to know. Yeah, that was what he would do. Then he wondered how Oscar was and what was wrong with him (he had neglected to ask). He wondered what the prison guards were doing to those two horrible old ladies. He thought about the earth and found himself full of anger again and the need to make someone pay. He fell back onto the bed and stared at the canopy. Something rolled out of his pocket. It was the black glassy orb, the one that had appeared when he ended up on that funny planet. He frowned and then remembered where he’d got it. It had just appeared, hadn’t it? He held it above his head and stared into it. Inside was blackness, but the blackness seemed to be full of odd angles. He tapped it with a claw. Glass ought to had made a ‘dink’ noise, but instead it buzzed. It felt more like.. a surface than glass. If a purely theoretical geometric surface had a feel, the way the ball felt would be that feel.

‘What the hell are you?’ Vinny muttered to himself.

‘That’s an excellent question.’ The orb said, in a voice like fingernails being scraped down your soul.

‘HOLY SHIT!’

‘Strange little sentient beings with your strange little expressions.’

‘Who are you??’

‘Yog Sothoth.’ Said the ball.

‘You’re kidding.’ Vinny squinted at it.

‘No. Well, not exactly. What you’re looking at isn’t really me. It’s more of a link to me, and a translator at the same time, a piece of technology that makes it so the mere sound of my voice doesn’t wring your brain like so much wet jelly. I exist outside the geometric angles of known spacetime.’

‘You do?’

‘Yes. It’s boring, and dark.’

‘Why are you in this ball?’ Vinny asked, bewildered.

‘I’m not.’

‘Oh.’ A pause. ‘I don’t get it.’

‘No, you wouldn’t. You remember when my Mi-Go servant told you that you were the one prophesied to bring about my return?’

‘Yuhuh.’

‘Well, you have.’

‘Uhuh.’

‘I’m upset, you see. The thing you call DAMOCLES has usurped some of my followers from me and blown up many of the rest. My Mi-Go, the humans and other species. This upsets me. They stopped worshipping me and started working for it instead. I rather enjoyed the echoes of the praises they sent up to me. You included, of course, when you felt like it. Or felt guilty about not doing it.’

Vinny experienced the existential horror of finding out that the god you informed your parents didn’t exist and that you weren’t going to worship anymore by quietly sidling out of the responsibility of going to temple, or paying attention to religion at all has suddenly turned up and is about to demand An Accounting.

‘Look… see, about all that…I..’

‘Never mind all that. You can make it up to me. By thoroughly punishing my errant followers and DAMOCLES.’

Vinny nodded. ‘That’s the plan.’

‘I shall offer whatever help I can, and since I exist just outside all times and all places, I can usually tell you what’s going on in them, or will be going on in them. I also have power and influence over the minds of sentient beings. In return, you will kick their asses in my honour.’

‘That sounds like a good deal.’ Vinny said, breathing a sigh of relief.

‘There is going to be An Accounting.’ Yog Sothoth said, the voice making Vinny cringe again. ‘Don’t put me in your pocket, there’s all sorts of horrible things in there. Don’t you ever clean them out? There are things in there that scare me and I’m a Great Old One…’

*

Nevin sat in the copilot’s chair, feet up on the instrument panel as Kara flew the little ship extremely fast, dodging round solar systems and whipping across large empty sections of space.

‘Lost him, have we?’

‘He’ll never catch us in that great big warship.’ Kara said.

‘I must say.’ Said Moebius, behind them. ‘You are doing very well.’

Nevin fell off his chair. ‘Who’s this?’ He spluttered.

‘This is my mentor, Counsellor Moebius.’ Kara said, smiling, happily and as innocently as one could with no eyes to convey innocence. ‘He’s the one who helped me find my father. He showed up while you were on the enemy vessel and asked to meet you. It’s a great honour. You two talk, don’t mind me.’

Nevin scrambled back onto his feet and sat back in the chair, trying to look composed.

‘Yes yes, honour and suchlike. What you after, Mister Moebius?’

‘Just a little talk.’

‘Bout what?’ Nevin asked, suspiciously. He didn’t like this person, not at all. He’d heard all sorts of good things about him from Klot and Kara, of course. But Nevin didn’t like people who asked him for little talks. It meant they knew things they wanted to ask him about.

‘About what you did to the angel, of course! Wonderful, wonderful work. You’ve put both him and his other half exactly where I want them! There was me thinking you were just an interfering wildcard.’

‘I thought so too.’ Kara said. ‘When you told me your plan. So clever, give him what he thinks he needs and then let it destroy him.’

‘Mr Nevin, if that is your real name, which it isn’t, I’d just like to know where you stand on this whole matter I think you know what I’m talking about. I’ve done a little background research and I think I understand your interest in the King.’

This was news to Nevin. He knew only what he’d been told, and that was only what the voices felt like telling him. ‘Yewhat?’ He said.

‘Oh, you mean you don’t know? What gleeful fun.’ Moebius chuckled, dryly. ‘Our mutual friend, the King, descendant of over fifty royal lines from earth and Zardark?’

Nevin nodded.

‘One of which is yours?’

Nevin fell off his chair.

‘I had to do a lot of looking to find this out. I looked very hard. Perhaps you remember a girl called Aylwen? Probably not. Anyway, she fell pregnant and gave birth to twins. Mary and Sarah. Disgraced, the entire family of course. No-one would marry a pair of bastards. So Mary, the wild one, took after her father, I suppose, went to Ireland and ended up marrying a gentleman adventurer named Finnget Ulfram. You might recognise the first part of that name and draw the appropriate conclusions. Sarah joined a nunnery, but eventually left the convent to marry one Sir Mark Wilkinson, or ‘Mark the Chaste’ as they used to call him. Several fine virtuous and knightly Wilkinsons down the line, we find ourselves at Sarah Wilkinson. She married Sir Solomon ‘The Wise’ Krigsley. They had a son. End of story.’

Nevin made no attempt to get up off the floor, but stayed there, flat on his back.

‘Well I never.’ He said. ‘I suppose that explains a bit.’

‘Yours truly is still in the dark though.’ Moebius informed him. ‘Which side are you on, Owain, if I may call you that?’

Nevin sat up. ‘No, you may certainly not.’ He stared at Moebius, intensely. ‘Thanks everso for the update though. Dead useful. But still, no-one’s side. Always no-one’s side.’

‘Well, I hope you’ll reconsider.’ Moebius said. ‘No-one’s side may soon be the wrong side entirely, mightn’t it, Tootoo?’

As usual, the plush reindeer on his shoulder was ominously silent.

Nevin looked at the reindeer. ‘No, I agree with you.’ He said to it. ‘But honestly, it just doesn’t taste the same.’

‘No-one asked you.’ Moebius snapped at Tootoo. Once again, the reindeer said nothing.

Kara gave all three of them a funny look, or would have if she had eyes.

‘Well, goodbye then.’ Moebius said, and vanished.

Kara turned to Nevin. ‘That was disrespectful. Why didn’t you offer to join him?’

Nevin regarded the ceiling and bit his lip thoughtfully, and then said:

‘Dunno. Seemed like a bit of a twat, really.’**

*

‘I don’t really like this toy.’ Salyra said, letting the whip hang loose again.

‘No?’ Vasdhra was upset. He thought it was exotic and alien. His mistress was a hard one to please.

‘No, it smells bad. Rather fishy. It’s nearly dead, so I’m sure it shall smell worse very shortly.’ She waved an exquisitely manicured hand in front of her face. ‘I find myself rather bored. Let’s re-enact what I shall do to the knight when I find him, in the bedroom again.’

Vasdhra sighed, happily. Tied to the wall, Mickey the Cod, bleeding fishy substances from a selection of wounds, expired.

---

 

Return to Book III

Return to FrontPage