Chapter Thirty: Empty Chairs at Empty Tables

“-Master, what is an angel?

-Whaddayamean what’s an angel?

-Er….

-Ah, young man, chill out. I’m just kidding. However, tell me, are you bad enough to hear the answer?

-I hope so, master.

-Very well. You are aware of course of the planetary Archangels; Uriel of Earth, Samael of Mars, Sachiel of Jupiter, Pnazkthariel of Gamezoha Prime, Celessarael of Palantenna, Ukuzakarael of Erendauer, Lankiel of Xurmaith, Zokuvauriel of Megiddo, Marokael of Dewnhaar, etc. etc.

-Yes, master.

-And that every angel is given a task?

-Yes, master.

-Well, well, aren’t you clever? Don’t answer that. To each mal’ak; as the Hebrews called them, angelos as the Greeks called them, maia as the Elves call them, drognatz as the Gamezohans call them, angel as we call them; is given a sphere of influence, whether that be a planet, a race of people, species of animal or plant, a small local ecosystem or area as in the case of a genius loci, or perhaps simply a concept. To them is given also enough power to form the energy structure necessary for that sphere of influence in whatever situation it may find itself. I use the word ‘given’ loosely, in the sense of ‘they had when they emanated from Ain Soph Aur’. Since most of these systems have all sorts of messes they could get themselves into, this means they have a bit of power to spare. Especially with the planetary angels, who being so big, have a lot of power to spare. This fact has been capitalised on throughout the ages by ritual magicians, and sometimes also by the angels themselves. This usually turns out to be bad. I shall expound.

The Angels of Technologos are Seven; Kiel, Lithael, Cupriel, Yrael, Snekael, Kilbael and Iochshephael

When the first ape picked up a stick to poke into an anthill and get some tasty-crunchy-wiggly food, there was the eldest, Kiel, the Angel of Wood. And his smile was the gentle smile of the tree about to be felled.

When the first proto-hominid sitting in Olduvai Gorge discovered he could chip bits off another rock to make a sharper rock that he could cut things with possibly another proto-hominid, there was the second, Lithael, the Angel of Stone. And his countenance was as ancient as Stonehenge and as empty as a strip-mine.

When the first shaggy man who had been digging in the dirt for the pretty green rocks dropped a handful in the fire and was amazed at the shiny orangey-yellow substance that bubbled out of them (shortly afterwards he sadly died of arsenic fume poisoning..), there was the third, Cupriel, the Angel of Copper. And his gaze were sharper than a dagger and as hot as the sun.

When the first slightly less shaggy man wondered whether the newer, hotter fire he had made could extract metal from the red rocks as well as the green rocks, and whether the metal extracted might even be better, there was the fourth, Yrael, the Angel of Iron. And his eyes were the dull red of rust and glittered like Fool’s Gold.

When the first little wizened old man, sitting in his workshop overlooking the goats grazing by the blue Aegean carefully cut teeth into a tiny wheel and used it to make another tiny wheel spin, there was the fifth, Snekael, the Angel of the Gears. And he ground his teeth with a sound like the ticking of the Great Clock of the Heropass.

When Charles Babbage looked upon the great gleaming brass mass of his Difference Engine and fed in the necessary components to make it add 1 to 1 and reveal that the answer was indeed 2, there was the sixth, Kilbael, the Angel of Silicon. And the lines of his face were like unto the Pathways of the Greatest Server of All.

When Albareaella Dactylos first married Life and Machine and produced the Self-Repairing Medical Implant and when at last Technology had become the very Mirror of Life, there was the youngest, Iochshephael, the Angel of Cybernetics. And his laughter pierced the great Spiral of Life Itself and echoed with the tones of an artificially enhanced larynx.

The Seven Angels are terrible indeed and powerful and beautiful and their fate is intrinsically linked with that of the races of sentient life. It is therefore unsurprising that the youngest and most foolish would do as he did and fall in love with his creatrix, or so the Legend speaks. Albarealla Dactylos was, or is, a distant scion, mostly human, of House Dactylos, trained both in medicine and electrophysics. She lived in the year 2378. Little else is known of her. When the Angel of Cybernetics awoke, he looked down and saw the beautiful red-headed woman before him and he fell in love. This sort of thing has happened before and it was a terrible kerfuffle. The downfall of Atlantis, the Great Flood. Uriel had to commission the Pillars to Withstand Fire and Water to make sure something was still there afterwards. And that’s just from Earth. Who could forget the Great Earthquake of Zarzar? The Punishment of Arbatoss, who fell in love with an angel in human form and caused the downfall of the City of Broken Apples? Such a terrible mess. If you want to do that sort of thing you need to get the mortal promoted, like Enoch to Metatron or Fkthzk’mr to Zknr. The Angel of Cybernetics went unto the Daughter of Dactylos, and for a time they were happy, but as always happens in these situations, they were found out by his brethren and for seducing a mortal, the Angel was punished. His eldest brother pronounced judgement upon him. Saith Kiel:

‘Since you like mortals so much, you can just bloody be one, can’t you?’

And so the Angel of Cybernetics was sent down the Tree of Life into Malkuth and was born as a human, ever to be reincarnated until he proves himself worthy to return. That promotion thing works both ways, y’see. Albarealla searched for the incarnation of her love for a hundred years, and eventually died of grief, proceeding on where he could not go, leaving behind her the Order of the Lost Cybernaut to carry on the search and inform the incarnation of his or her destiny each time the incarnation..er.. incarnates. Have you learned now enough of the Nature of Angels?

-Well, I’ve certainly learned something.

-Jolly good.”

“Anaxerretibes’ answer to the Smart-ass Kubrik Theology Student”, From the “The Great Big Huge Massive Tome o’ Deep Wisdom” (pub. Hawthorne and M’fff, 2547)

“There's a grief that can't be spoken.

There's a pain goes on and on.

Empty chairs at empty tables

Now my friends are dead and gone.”

Marius, from Les Miserables “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables”

Sutra 1

or

Yang

“Are you done yet?” Vinny sighed. His wrists were starting to ache.

“Good grief no.’ Said Moebius, spinning round. Bits of his tattered robe span shortly after he did, leaving wiggly lines in reality that made Vinny’s eyes hurt. ‘Anyway, I’m going to explain to you why you can never, ever, ever beat me to launching the ROCKET, even if you did get the Tres, even if you did achieve Reunion, and get the Whutty boy and sit on the throne yourself and get a scientist to run the program with your silly nanogirl instead of my amazing DAMOCLES. Because to direct the rocket, sorry the ROCKET requires an intelligence that knows EVERYTHING THAT’S EVER GOING TO HAPPEN AND IS HAPPENING AND HAS HAPPENED AND COULD HAPPEN AND COULD HAVE HAPPENED AND COULD HAPPEN EVER IN THE UNIVERSE EVER EVER EVER. Are any of you that smart? Even Nanogirl? I don’t think so. No, only me and stupid old Naxxy in his Silly Temple of Stupid Stupid Omnia Sol Temperat are that smart. I’m so smart, in fact, that I’m going to do a happy dance all around! HAHAHAHA. ”

With that, he danced off out of the room.

Vinny sighed and dangled from his chains.

“You know, I’m starting to wish he’d just killed me.”

“Indeed, I’m not surprised y’are.” Said Sister Assumpta, stepping out of no-where. “Sure an’ the man could talk the hind legs off a palfrey.”

“Oh boy am I glad to see you, Sister.” Vinny said, grinning. “How long’ve you been there?”

“Couple o’ minutes. Surprised he didn’t notice me.” Assumpta said, whispering a prayer over Vinny’s chains, which glowed white and fell away. Vinny shook the circulation back into his wrists and ankles.

“Yeah, funny that. He said no-one could come here without his express authorisation.”

“The Lord’s is the highest authority.” Said Assumpta. “I will not deny, it was difficult locking onto your signature. We found this in your bedchamber.” She held up the Yog-Sothoth ball.

“Yo.” The ball said. “Or Yog, I should say.”

“Though it verily radiates pure evil, it told us where ye were and therefore is not without merit.” Assumpta said, grudgingly. Your wife is everso worried. She believes your life is in danger.”

“She’s right.” Vinny said. “So let’s make like dryads and get the hell outta here.”

Assumpta nodded.

“When you were going through the bedchamber.. Ah… they didn’t look under the pillow, did they? See, that was a wedding present from Nike and we never really worked out how to use it...'”

“Oh, that. Yes. Apparently the Chamberlain still won’t leave his room.” Assumpta said.

“Aw, hell.”

“I’m joking.” Assumpta smirked.

They vanished.

Shortly afterwards, Moebius danced back into the room, danced over to the spot where Vinny had been, leaned over backwards and sniffed the air, purely for effect.

‘Sink meh! He seems to have escaped. With that nun. The nun, eh? She’s as good as any. Well, they took their time. Escaped, escaped, escaped. HEEHEHEHE. Whatever shall I do?’ Moebius giggled. “DAMOCLEEEEEES? DAMOCLES. They’re fighting. I want you to do something.’ He paused, twirling his beard into the shape of an intricate interlocking of narcissi, with Salvador Dali sleight of hand.

As has been previously described, there are some moments when an event of such vast importance occurs that ripples of it spread out across time like the wake of some monstrous while whale washing the bowsprits of the Pequod that is the Heropass and drowning nearby small Indonesian villages in the backwash. There are also moments that have an equivalent effect upon the not the entire universe, but upon the psyches of a small collection of people. Such a moment as this was the moment Oscar looked down and found his hands around the neck of the still form of Grammaton Kyliereisonja von Sphexoren.

For a few seconds he froze, and a strange unwholesome green flame flickered in his eyes, immediately followed by the sudden flaring of a similar, but more healthy red one. His fingers twitched, and released. The body slumped to the floor. Then the silence was broken by a voice that was quiet, yet fuller of menace than a strange liquid gleam and the suggestion of rippling muscle under a large leaf when you are alone in the depths of the jungle.

‘Oscar. Oscar, I think you have something that doesn’t belong to you.’

Then Joel rose from the floor with a face like thunder and clamped a hand onto the stunned Oscar’s face.

“FUCK YOU, GIVE IT BACK!!!!!” He roared. A shell of green flame flickered to life around Oscar’s unresisting body and green fire began to flow into Joel, who shuddered with enjoyment as he regained the essence of his being. As it flowed, it changed colour, slowly going from lurid green to summer yellow and finally returning to red and flickering out. Joel released Oscar and took up the Super Saiyan Position (fists clenched, arms at right angles and forty-five degrees out from the body) and roared. He turned away from Oscar and found Jon in a defensive stance, sword raised.

“You want some?” Joel said, beckoning. “Do ya? Huh?”

He charged. Jon held up the Hikari-no Buckler. Joel crashed into it. The buckler made a noise like a jack-in-the-box exploding and launched Joel screaming into the air, knocking Jon back a few feet with the recoil as it did so.

A faint cry of ‘damn yoooooouuuuu’ echoed from high in the sky. Far, far away a dot fell out of the clouds, caught itself in mid air, appeared to hover, indecisively for a few moments, before disappearing. Jon looked at the crumpled, still form of Oscar, lying next to the equally still (but fashionably in disarray rather than merely crumpled) form of Kylie. He knelt down and felt for a pulse. Oscar seemed to be merely unconscious. He said a half-hearted prayer over the dragon, but the Lord sent no miracle. Her soul had fled.

“Excuse me.” Said the android Domenic. “Is she…”

Jon nodded.

“Oh. She built me, you know.”

Jon nodded. “Are you…?”

“No, I don’t really feel anything. I’ll see to Leo and Cobalt.”

Nike landed daintily on the edge of the roof, having executed a perfect triple flip in midair, to reduce her wind-resistance, and not just to look good, you understand. She smoothed her hair.

“I don’t think Joel’s coming back.” She said. “How odd.” She glanced at what was left of Kylie. “Hmm. We’d better tell people Joel did it. The Sphexorens will probably up the bounty on his head a few trillion. And they can mourn unceasingly over the death of their purest-blooded and most beloved daughter, won’t they be happy? Well obviously not, but you know what I mean.” She prodded Oscar with a foot. “Alive?”

Jon nodded again.

“We’ll wave him in front of Danring again. You take him, I’ll take Kylie.” She slung the blue dragon’s body over her shoulder and headed for the roof door. “You androids..er.. come with us.”

Domenic, with another android over each shoulder followed, as did Jon, a little slower. Oscar was almost as heavy as he was.

“Hmm.” Said Nike.

“Mm?” Enquired Jon.

“I suddenly felt unexplainably sad.” Said Nike.

“That is hardly surprising.” Jon said, frowning.

“Seems familiar… Mercedes….” Nike shook her head to clear it. “No time for that.” She said. “There’s a war on. Come on.”

Jon raised an eyebrow, and followed.

With Walt Disney sleight of hand, they went by ways known only to the imperial family across Kubrik and found their way back with minimal official resistance to the Imperial Palace on Gamezoha Prime, Nike leading at a pace that left Jon quite exhausted.

“Welcome to the Imperial Chambers.” Nike said to Jon, waving a hand at the sumptuous décor. . Jon unburdened himself onto the exquisitely embroidered chaise-longue. “Only very lucky people get to see where I live.” She winked and poked a control panel. “Send the Lord Medicator to me at once.”

The door slid open and Danring stepped through. He looked at the bodies, at Nike, then at Jon, and then at the android, stood patiently in the corner.

“Oh, after all my hard work, you couldn’t at least have come back with one of them alive?”

“You were lurking outside my door, weren’t you? Don’t lurk outside my door.” Nike said. “Joel got away, but he seems fine. Fine enough to make an attempt on the life of St. Skinhead there, anyway.” She waved a hand. Jon frowned. “See to the feathered one, will you? We got the antidote into him, but Joel de-eviled him rather forcibly.”

“And your cousin?” Danring raised an eyebrow.

Nike paused and looked down.

“Get someone to inform the family. I need to freshen up.” She walked off through another door, leaving the others astounded.

Danring knelt down by Oscar’s side and took a pulse. Ass-kicking the Leopard dropped gracefully from the drapery above him and narrowly avoided landing on his head, before slinking smugly off.

“’Freshen up’?” Jon said, disbelievingly, eyeing the leopard’s retreating tail.

“Yes well.” Danring said, shortly. “That’s the Empress for you, may she reign forever.” He looked at the bathroom door. “Could you possibly give me a little bit of space to, y’know, do my job?”

Jon didn’t move, but stood by Oscar’s said, a hand resting on the arm of the chaise by the angel’s head.

Danring was a well trained doctor. He sighed. “If I do any harm to your friend, you have my permission to chop off my head with that nasty big sword of yours. I’ll just stand here. All right? Trust me, I’m a doctor.”

Jon looked at Danring and cast Know Alignment. The grey flicker of Danring’s aura said lawful neutral.

He stepped back. “Very well.”

“Thank you.”

Danring did his job. “He seems fine. I think we’d better let him sleep and deal with whatever Dr de Viaminima er…2 did to him. Will you stay here so he has a friendly face to wake up to?”

“Of course.” Jon said. “How long dost thou think he shall sleep?”

“Until he wakes up.” Danring replied. Jon nodded.

Just then, something across the room began to play “My Love Is Like a Neutron Star”, the fourth aria from the Draconic Comic Opera “The Astral Dodecahedron of Infinite Nonsense” by Thazidomus Sawarren. This, of course, meant absolutely nothing to Jon, but Danring hummed a snatch or two along with the rather catchy tune. The aria related how the love of the Soprano, Brickoletta, weighed ten tons a teaspoon and attracted people like flies before crushing them mercilessly. It was Nike’s favourite.

Nike poked her head through the door. “Would someone get that?” She said. Ass-kicking purred and slunk through the gap she had opened. She bent down to pet him as she closed the door, cooing over the “big furry soppy-thing”.

Danring shrugged, went over to the panel and ended the aria shortly before the verse about how dense the soprano was.

“Hello?”

Jon watched Oscar for signs of stirring. Once the angel was up and about, he decided, they would return as best they could to Erendauer and join Vinny. If everyone was going to wiped out by the Unwritten Ones, he at least wanted to die defending his King. Besides which, things always seemed more hopeful around the big idiot, he thought affectionately. Oscar’s eyes flickered. He was probably dreaming. Jon whispered another prayer and a faint glow began to exude from his clasped hands. Oscar’s eyes went still as he sank deeper into a more restful sleep.

Down at the other end of the room, Danring had gone silent. A quiet voice was speaking to him from the panel.

“Hey Danring!” Nike called from the bathroom. “Can I watch you perform the autopsy on Kylie? Oh wait, we know what she died of. Well, if you don’t want to do it, I will.”

Jon ground his teeth in annoyance at the sheer irreverence and disrespect for the dead.

“Imperatrix.” Said Danring, turning slowly away from the panel. Jon saw his face. It was the face of a man who suspected that given the track record of the imperial family in such matters, confidently expected to be executed as soon as he reported the news it was now his heavy duty to pass on. His tone was so serious that Nike stepped out of the bathroom, semi-clothed.

“What.”

Jon fixed his eyes on Oscar and tried to think of Bathing in Icy-Cold Holy Springs in the Mountains.

“Oh, for your sake, Nike, put some clothes on.” Danring said. “This is serious. Something’s happened to the Archduke.”

Nike pulled a lacy, glittery and rather flesh-revealing poncho-type garment (all the rage in Kubrik at the moment, though she’d started wearing them months ago. It was a pain being a trendsetter…) over her head. “Got himself captured again, has he?”

“No.” Said Danring.

“Then w…” Nike looked up at the doctor and one could almost see the mental barriers slam down and her face become as impassive as stone. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

Danring nodded.

“They’re sending the body here, aren’t they. For preservation and entombment.” There was a hint of bitterness in her tone.

“Baron Halak and Sky-Marshall, sorry, General, Whutty are accompanying the… body. They were with him when he died, along with a couple of SURTR deserters, er.. Ariston Delapore and David Samsa. Samsa was apparently also killed.”

Jon looked up, then immediately looked away again. So, the evil sorceror he’d met when he first encountered Vinny and Oscar was dead… all that seemed like so long ago. Mind you, it must have been a year or more. He remembered Vinny mentioning at one point that it was his birthday. It seemed like they had been in mortal peril on and off for years.

“The dead deserter had better have a honourable funeral then out of imperial funds, since he seems to have joined our side and died in service.” Nike said, briskly. “Laud him as a hero and suchlike” She turned to Jon. “You.. you’re going back to Wild Thing, right? Take the angel, better get him away from anywhere the Sphexorens are, and take Delapore with you. You can have some kind of boys-club famous last stand.”

“Very well, your Imperial Majesty.” Said Jon, with a curt bow of the head. “A request?”

“What?” Nike snapped.

“May I pay my last respects to your brother? We shared battles and overcame difficulties together, even if we were not the best of friends. I would bid farewell to a noble comrade.”

“Oh… honour and all that. Yes, of course.” She span on a perfect heel and stalked back into the bathroom. “Tell me when they show up.” She said, slamming the door.

Jon waited for the sound of weeping. There was none.

Danring frowned at the door, then came over to check Oscar’s pulse, purely for something to do. “I’d ask if you wanted to go for a drink.” He said. “But you don’t look the type, and anyway, I doubt you’d leave your friend.”

“You are correct.” Jon nodded.

Nike bounced out of the bathroom. “Come on, we’re going to the Retiring Room, I’ll receive them there. I can’t be bothered doing it in the Great Hall, it’s so ostentatious and echoey.

Jon looked at Oscar then back at Nike, then at Oscar again.

“Oh, for goodness sake, leave him here, he’ll be fine.” Nike snapped. “I just don’t have time for this.”

Danring and Jon quietly followed. As they left, mysterious hooded figures entered and headed for the couch on which Kylie’s mortal remains lay. Nike nodded to them, then led Jon and Danring down multiple corridors and lifts to a spartanly decorated room with very serious-looking chairs. The imperial family seemed to prefer to put on a very serious, military air when receiving the plebs. Nike made herself at home on the one in the most prominent, mediatory position like a cat on a brick wall.

Danring bowed, propitiatorially. “I will leave your Imperial majesty in peace so she m…”

“Hah, you’re not getting out that easily.” Nike said, inspecting her fingernails. “Sit down. And you human, stop looking so nervous and glancing towards the door. Your friend will be fine.”

There was a beep from the direction of a large door.

“Come.” Nike said, her eyes flickering from her fingernails. The door slid open and in walked a slightly bewildered Aris, Whutty and Pyrite Halak with a face of a similar iron disposition to the Gamezohan soldiers surrounding them. They were followed by weeping women (probably Sphexoren virginal bride professionals) surrounding an open coffin draped with the Gauss colours. Just behind the coffin was a small, less ostentatious coffin, closed, holding the last remains of David Samsa. Someone had been kind enough to put a hexagram on it, probably Aris. Pyrite knelt before Nike, who offered her hand to be kissed. Aris quietly slipped around to join Jon, who provided a suitably manly hug. The weeping women and soldiers retreated.

“Imperatrix.” Pyrite said. “Your brother fell nobly in battle against a powerful adversary.”

Aris mouthed ‘Klot’ at Jon, whose face darkened. Nike nodded, and stood to inspect her brother’s body. Gauss lay still, apparently unharmed. Nike’s face remained as impassive as her brother’s. Danring had somehow managed to disappear, but no-one noticed.

“How did he die?” She asked.

“He was struck with a strange looking weapon by the traitorous former leader of the Silberwyrmritters. ” Pyrite said. “Or.. at least, so it seemed... we did not see the exact moment of his death. The weapon blasted a discharge of energy, which blinded us, then the traitor and curséd regicide fled, vanishing into the air. After he had gone, Delapore, General Whutty and I checked His Grace’s life-signs, but there were none..”

Nike nodded. Jon saw her left hand clench. She checked that none of the mourners were still lurking.

“You. You’re a priest, come over here and say something.” She beckoned Jon, who paused, uncertain for a moment, then went to stand by the coffin. Aris looked uncomfortable. Pyrite and Whutty just watched.

“What wouldst thou like me to say?” He asked.

“Anything you like. You said you wanted to say goodbye to him.” Nike waved a hand.

Jon looked up for moment for inspiration, then he bowed his head. “I shall say a centuries-old English prayer for those who are slain in battle.” He took a deep breath and intoned:

“With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn in drums thrill: Death august and royal
Signs sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again:
They sit no more at familiar tables at home;
They have no lot in our labor of the daytime;
They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
felt as a wellspring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars that are known to the Night.

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
to the end, to the end, they remain.”

When he finished, he saluted Gauss. Nike’s head was bowed. Whutty was openly weeping. Nike looked up, but there were no tears on her face. “There will be a proper funeral if we survive.” She said. “Baron Halak, you have done well and will be rewarded. Previous wrongs against the House of the Imperatrix are forgiven. Return now to your planet and be with your people at the end.”

Pyrite bowed. “I will, Imperatrix.”

“General Whutty will return to the battle. There is no other place for him, as he knows.”

Whutty wiped his eyes and nodded.

“Ariston Delapore and Jonathan Krigsley will return with Oscar Angeles when he has recovered, to the service of our Royal Cousins Queen Windsong and King Vincit of Wendauer. The remains of David Samsa will be entombed with honour among Gamezohan heroes, if this is acceptable.” She looked at Aris, who nodded.

“The Imperatrix has spoken. Now leave me, I must bid farewell to my brother.”

Everyone filed out of the room. As Jon left, he glanced at Gauss’s coffin. “Sir dragon.” He said, quietly. “It seems your obligation to me shall remain unfulfilled.”

Nike waited until everyone had left and the door was shut. Then she fell to her knees beside the coffin and screamed. An ornamental vase in the corner shattered in the intensity of the sound.

“You bastard!” She shrieked in Draconic. The fragments of the vase vibrated at the harshness of the syllables. “How dare you leave me alone! How dare you let the last member of my family die! May you burn in a hundred thousand hells for this!” She beat her fists on Gauss’ dead chest. There was a crack as one of his ribs broke and the sharp noise made her stop. She hurriedly re-arranged his robes and then slide back onto her heels and broke into racking, grief-stricken, but still tearless sobs, covering her face with her hands to hide her eyes from nothing in particular. This continued for a few minutes. Then she pointlessly wiped her face, which hardened back into an expression of mild annoyance, then stood up and went to the door. She opened it and the mourners filed in and removed the bodies.

Pyrite shook Aris’ hand awkwardly. “It was good to meet you, and I wish we had met under better circumstances.” He said.

“You too.” Said Aris.

“’Opefully we will all see each other again in whadhever comes after dhis.” Whutty said. “But I doubt it. Now, to battle. Cold and dark, cold and dark, it goes on forever.” He said, with an air of dread certainty. “What was dhat eardh poem you said over Werner?”

“For the Fallen.” Jon replied. “Laurence Binyon.”

“I radher liked it. Good bye dhen. If you see Moebius or Klot before I do, dhen give dhem one from me.”

Jon nodded, and watched them leave. Whutty was humming snatches from ‘Music for Airports’.

Nike appeared as they left. She seemed sickeningly cheery. “Well, let’s see to Doctor Oscar, shall we, then you can get out from under my f… er, off?”

Doctor Oscar, it seemed, had woken up. He was sat on Nike’s couch, with his arms wrapped around his knees, and an expression like a flash-frozen rabbit. Jon knelt down in front of him.

“Brother?”

“Tell me it didn’t happen, Jon.” Oscar said, from behind his knees, his gaze shifting from the middle distance to Jon’s face.

“I cannot.”

“No, I didn’t think you would. Where is she?”

“I’ve sent her back to her family.” Nike said, not looking directly at Oscar. Aris looked at her questioningly and she beckoned him into another room for an explanation.

“This was no fault of thine.” Jon said, taking Oscar’s hands. “The blame resteth square upon the shoulders of the treacherous vampire, No-one. I knew from the first he was unholy and in the pay of evil.”

“You don’t understand, Jon. I enjoyed it. It felt good. It felt good killing her.” Oscar shivered with disgust.

Jon bit his lip. “Brother, I am a warrior. I understand the hunger for blood that may overcome even the purest heart in the thick of battle.”

“Excuse me.” Said the android Domenic, which had been standing patiently in the corner for some time now. “I’ve managed to fix Leo…”

“Hello.” Said Leo.

“But we can’t do Cobalt. Not without mistress. We don’t have the programming.”

“I’ll try to fix her.” Oscar said. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Um… ok.” Said Domenic. “You promise not to brutally kill her, right?”

Oscar buried his head in his legs.

Jon sighed. “I will make sure he does not.”

Oscar’s back twitched.

“Oh dear. Did I say bad?” Domenic said.

“I think you did.” Leo said.

Nike stepped out of the next room with a very serious-looking (and slightly disturbed) Aris.

“Time to go.” She said.

“We’re coming too!” Leo said.

Nike sighed. “If you must. Will anyone miss you?”

“Probably not.” Leo shrugged.

Oscar unfolded himself from the couch. “Where are we going?” He said, nervously.

“Back to… Vinny.” Jon replied. He decided telling Oscar about Gauss had better wait for a while.

Oscar relaxed a little. “Oh good.” He stood up and put on a brave face. Jon was struck by the similarity between Nike’s expression and Oscar’s.

Oscar smiled. “Let’s go.” He said. “Where’s Gauss, by the way?”

The room fell silent.

Vinny and Windsong sat at the table in the Wendauer War Room looking very serious. Guideau de Sartoreus, looking much better, but still a little under the weather, was giving a report. He was sporting a nice new pair of synthetic lower legs. General Leefe sat across the other end of the table, with the heads of the Wendauerian military and the leaders of their people.

“So how long have we got?” Vinny asked, tiredly. The fact he slept for a long time, the knowledge that Wyn was relying on him to be her rock and lack of nicotine was getting to him.

“Five months at most.” De Sartoreus said. “Gamezohan estimates are less, but we prefer to be hopeful. Once the Unwritten ones have ploughed through Dewnheem, they’ll be on us within a month.”

“Fuck.” Said Vinny.

Windsong stood up and banged her fist down on the table. “We shall fight them until every last man, woman and child is dead! We shall never surrender! We shall go out in a blaze of glory!”

There were cheers from around the table. Skai bounced up and down in her seat, next to her Em smiled a little. Jake whispered to her to calm down. A tall woman in thick furs with pale hair like a cloud stood up and raised her fist in the air.

“All hail Queen Ellamina!” She cheered.

Windsong blushed and whispered to Vinny. “That’s mother’s sister, aunt Enna. She rules mother’s tribe now.” She said. “She’s always been very proud of me and Skai.” She turned back to the table. “Thank you all for your support. I trust in every one of you to do your duty and nothing less for me and for the Kingdom of Wendauer. I trust you with my very life, and the fate of our world!”

More cheers and nods.

“Now let us adjourn for dinner!”

The cheers intensified one hundred-fold.

It was a solemn ship which brought Aris, Jon, Oscar and the androids to Erendauer. Oscar sat in the back tinkering with Cobalt whilst Leo and Domenic took some downtime. Aris and Jon discussed the latest events

“How did you end up in Kubrik anyway?” Aris asked. “I thought you went with the fact-finding party.”

Jon frowned. “Jacob Syne…er… it is hard to explain… I arrived in somewhat of a hurry and was not in time to avert the damage.”

“I know that feeling.”

“Fear not.” Said Jon, patting him on the shoulder. “We shall find your wife and daughter, and avert this apocalypse. All resteth on Moebius now.”

“Sending you down now, people.” The pilot said, lifting his helmet up and revealing the face of Lieutenant Kreuz. “By the way, it’s the middle of the night there.”

The group was met by the night watchman and a rather flustered and bleary-eyed Chamberlain and conducted to the quarters they had occupied for the coronation with the promise that their presence would be announced to their majesties tomorrow morning. Oscar muttered a quiet goodnight and went into his room with the prone android slung over one shoulder, followed by the other two androids. The sounds of tinkering penetrated the wall into Jon’s room as he lay on the bed thinking about what to do. After a while, he started to drift off. In that period somewhere between awake and the REM-Phase 1 area, he began to dream.

He sat cross-legged on a rock in the middle of a desert. The heat haze made the distance blur. A few scrubby trees, were dotted around. He was dressed as a desert dweller, in robes and head-cloth.

“Is this your mind’s home?” Wieslawa Gauss asked, appearing out of the haze in front of him, coughing. She was accompanied by a dusty boar. “How… primitive.”

“Pardon?” Said Jon.

Wieslawa shook herself, making the folds of silvery material she wore ripple and spreading her silver hair out in a cloud behind her that swayed as it settled. “So dusty. Hm. Well. You’re Sarah’s son, yes?”

Jon nodded.

Wieslawa smiled. “Such a nice, polite lady. I much prefer her to that werewolf woman. Uncouth, despicable…” The boar grunted. She closed her eyes and opened them again in annoyance. They sparkled, reflecting the harsh light of the sun. “Your brother. He’s not dead. Really, it’s very surprising the way everything connects up.”

“I do not understand.” Jon said.

“Your brother.”

“Vincit?”

“No, no, no.” Wieslawa snapped. She began to fade. “Not dead. Remember. Not dead. Just taken away, by Moebius.”

Jon jumped off the stone and tried to follow. “Madam! Do you mean your son? Your son is not dead?”

As she vanished, the boar charged out of the dust and knocked him to the ground.

“Remember this, Seiðrman.” It grunted. “For my King. For the King. Never surrender, even if it means she dies and never rises again. Better she dies than is bent to Moebius’ will. Remember, Pro Deo et Rege. For God and The King.”

The boar’s mouth opened, and became wider and wider until Jon’s entire world was filled with the cavernous dripping maw.

Jon gasped and woke up. All was silent. The tinkering from next door had ceased. He could hear a gentle snoring coming from Aris’ room, probably the product of too long spent without Aria. He got up, too jumpy to go back to sleep. The dream was already beginning to fade. He searched around the room for something to write with and found a sharp knife (typical Wendauerians) and scribbled “Not dead – Brother?”, “Better she dies” and “For the King” on the surface of a tray that had been left in the room. As the thoughts crystallised into something analysable, he decided Wieslawa had probably not been referring to her son: He had seen the body, after all. It would be a mystery for now. For no reason, he began to feel uneasy. The feeling intensified until it became a headache. Something was wrong, very wrong, close. He got up, left the room and knocked on Oscar’s door. There was no response, the angel was asleep? No, the uneasiness was approaching panic now. He opened the door. Oscar was nowhere to be seen. The three androids lay in the corner, apparently having some downtime.

“Oscar?” Jon stepped into the room and looked around in the near-darkness. A white shape was hunched in the corner. He approached, cautiously, ascertaining that it was indeed Oscar, curled up in a foetal position.

Jon went down on one knee in front of him. The angel was sweating profusely, pale and shivering. His brown hair clung to his forehead in lank rats-tails and the white Gamezohan medical tunic Danring had put him in was soaking wet. Jon felt his forehead and found it cold and clammy. Oscar’s eyes flickered open.

“Jon… I…” He said, weakly. Jon picked up his wrist to check for a pulse and felt something wet and sticky spread across his hand. He pulled it away on impulse and found his fingers stained red.

The razor-sharp blood-smeared circuit board fell out of Oscar’s unresisting fingers.

“You fool.” Jon whispered hopelessly. “What is this? What are you doing?”

“If I die, Joel dies.” Oscar whispered back, half-smiling. “We just cause.. pain.. death.. shouldn’t be here. Mistake. Don’t deserve to…”

Furious with Oscar and himself for allowing this to happen, Jon hunted around for something to use as bandages. Finding nothing, he shredded some sheets with his teeth and bound up Oscar’s wrists to stop the bleeding. Oscar tried to resist, protesting feebly, but he was in no condition to stop Jon from helping him.

“If you think…” Jon spoke between looping the bandages around, angrily, through a mouthful of torn sheet. “… I will allow you to commit… a mortal sin… brother… then you are sorely …. Mistaken.” He tied the left wrist, slightly more tight than was necessary, making Oscar wince and continued on to the right. Once the Oscar’s wrists were bandaged enough to stop the blood flow, he checked the angel’s forehead again and made ready to do healing. Oscar seemed to be warming up a little. Jon put his hands together, closed his eyes and offered a prayer to the Lord for strength.

“Almighty God, thou hast chosen me in Thy mercy to watch over the life and death of Thy creatures. I now apply myself to my profession. Support me in this great task so that it may benefit mankind, for without Thy help not even the least thing will succeed.”

To Jon’s surprise, instead of the usual white light, blood sprang from his wrists, flowing from no visible wound. The stigmata had returned, but caused no pain. Jon took it as a sign and took hold of Oscar’s wrists. His own blood soaked the bandages and mingled with Oscar’s, spreading up his arm and dripping to the floor. Oscar’s face lost it’s deathly pallor, but the pallor was replaced by an unearthly light which shone from his face. Jon felt himself weakening a little, and let go of Oscar to do something about his own wounds. As soon as he did so, the wounds vanished and the only blood on him was Oscar’s. Jon unwound the bandage on the angel’s right wrist. The long, ragged gash down the arm had completely disappeared. Thanking the Lord for his mercy, Jon removed the bandages entirely. The strange unearthly glow was beginning to fade from Oscar’s skin.

“Brother.. brother, speak to me if thou livest.” Jon asked.

Oscar opened his eyes and opened them further when he looked at his arms. “You healed me.”

“I have told thee. Thou shalt not sin so mortally on my watch.”

“Why didn’t you let me die? It would have been better.”

“And wilt thou cause more grief to us all?!” Jon shouted. “And wilt thou shirk and cast off the task assigned to thee by the Lord?! You and I are companion to the King! For the King, Oscar, our Brother, he whom we serve to the last hour of the last day of the Creation of the Lord! You have placed your faith in him just as I have, and he in us! No less is expected of us but to fight to the last in service of Life!” He took Oscar by the shoulders. “Live, I beg of you. Live for all of us.”

“I … I can’t..” Oscar stammered, his voice cracking. “It’s too hard. Too long..”

Jon looked down and took a deep breath. “Then I will aid thee. Lean on me, and we shall walk the Valley of the Shadow of Death together.” With that, he embraced the angel. “It shall be as Lord said in the Book of Hebrews. ‘Never will I leave you, nor forsake you.’

He took Oscar’s arm and pulled him to his feet. “Now thou shalt sleep and recover and I shall watch over thee.”

Oscar stared at him for a minute or so. Then he smiled a little. “All right.”

“Can you stand?”

Oscar nodded. Jon let go of his arm and fetched a chair from the side of the room, setting it down next to the bed. Oscar sat down on the bed and lay down carefully, unfortunately automatically curling up. Jon sighed and put the blanket over him as best he could.

“Are you well enough to sleep?”

Oscar nodded. “Thanks, Jon. I’m sorry I woke you up.” He looked down. “I’m sorry I… it’s just I couldn’t think of anything else to make it better.”

“Think nothing of it.” Jon replied. “But such action makes nothing better.”

Oscar nodded, flushing red. “I’m sorry.”

Jon searched around for something normal to say as he sat down in the chair. His eyes lit on the pile o’ droids. “I see the repairs are going well.” He said.

“Oh yes.” Oscar said, smiling weakly. “I’ve nearly fixed Kylie now. She’ll be as good as new in no time! Then everything will be fine.” There was a disturbing hopeful manic tone in Oscar’s voice.

Jon blinked.

“Everything all right?” Asked Aris, poking his head around the door. He was rubbing his eyes and sans hat, revealing the shocking purple of his hair and a three-day beard shadow. “I heard shouting.”

“Oscar is unwell.” Jon said looking at Oscar pointedly. “I shall remain with him tonight and send for a physician in the morning.”

Aris raised an eyebrow.

“Thank you for your concern.” Jon added, a little more kindly.

Aris shrugged. “Ok. Hope you feel better soon. Night.” He closed the door.

Oscar closed his eyes, and then opened them again, checking that Jon was still there.

“Sleep.” Jon commanded, but gently.

Oscar nodded again and closed his eyes.

A sharp knock on the door woke Jon up with a stiff neck from sleeping in the chair. He blinked as the thin form of the Royal Chamberlain opened the door and leaned through. His tall hat somehow did not fall off.

“Their majesties require you for breakfast in the Small Feasting Hall.” He said, shortly, but with infinite politeness. “The other man has already made the obvious joke, so please don’t bother.” He shut the door and stalked off. Oscar sat on the bed tinkering fervently with Cobalt. Jon glanced at him, then stood up and opened the door. Aris was waiting outside.

“Good morrow.” Jon said.

“Same to you.” Aris yawned.

“Oscar?” Jon asked, in the sort of tentative voice people use to speak to the old and slightly senile. “We are summoned for breakfast.”

Oscar looked up. There were dark circles under his eyes. He reached out and Leo passed him a spanner, from out of nowhere. “Um…. I’m not really very hungry.” He said. “Where are we, by the way?”

“Erendauer.” Jon said. “Dost thou not wish to see Vincit and Windsong?”

“Is that where we are?” Oscar smiled. “Ok. I don’t really want to eat anything, but I’ll come anyway.” He slid off the bed and joined them. “Bye Leo. Bye Dom. Bye Kylie. I’ll be back soon.” The two androids waved.

“We’ll be here waiting for you.” Leo said.

“See you soon.” Domenic added.

The Chamberlain was waiting out in the corridor. “This way please.” He said. They followed him through the palace and through the empty Great Feasting Hall, scene of Wyn’s coronation through to a smaller hall. Oscar stuck close to Jon, to the point of invading his personal space slightly. Within, sitting around a long table and doing an excellent impersonation of a Happy Family not wracked by fear of their very lives, were Vinny, Windsong (baby still not visible, Wendauerians had a long pregnancy), Skysong, Thora, Emmanuel Saurin, Jake Omnibus and Sister Assumpta. As they entered the room, Sister Assumpta jumped to her feet and ran over to embrace Jon, then Oscar, who froze. She almost did the same to Aris, but then realised she didn’t actually know him and curtseyed politely instead, before taking Oscar by the arm and making him sit down next to her. Thora tried to feed odd-looking sausages to Skai, who was too busy talking to Em and Jake and did not welcome the intrusion of a constant tirade about keeping her strength up.

Vinny stood up. “Thank Yog you guys are back.” He said, smiling. “Come sit down. Mister Klapheck said you got important news.” He waved a hand in the direction of the Chamberlain, stood by the serving table, who harumphed at being referred to as ‘mister’.

Jon drew up a chair across the table from Vinny and sat down, deeply reluctant to drench the island of happiness with the tsunami of grief. Aris sat next to him.

“It is indeed, very grave news.” Jon said, sadly. “I do not know where to begin.”

“Start with why you’re back.” Vinny said, suddenly worried by Jon’s tone. “Carry on from there.”

“Miriam sent me to help Oscar.”

“Oh yeah, he’s better, right? You’re better, right Osc?” Vinny turned to Oscar.

“Um.” Said Oscar.

“The antidote was administered. Oscar’s life is no longer in danger.” Jon said, staring at a plate of uncertain meat. “But there was an accident. Grammaton Kyliereisonja Sphexoren was killed. It was no fault of Oscar’s, the drug given him confounded his mind.”

“No! I’ll fix her… “ Oscar said, standing up suddenly and making Assumpta stare at him. “I can fix her. I can.”

“Oscar!” Jon said, angrily. “Compose thyself. That android is not the slain woman. She is an android. An android you can repair. A woman you cannot.”

“It is. I can.” Oscar fell back into his chair, subdued. Assumpta laid a hand on his shoulder, but he pushed it away. He curled up into a foetal position again and began to sob. Jon suddenly regretted getting angry.

“What’s wrong with him?” Vinny asked, standing up.

“I’ll go get a doctor.” Jake said, standing as well and heading for the door.

“Breakfast is absolutely not the correct time for this sort of behaviour!” The Chamberlain shouted. “Couldn’t you have waited till evening? Or at least lunch?”

“Me and this guy will go get a doctor.” Jake said, taking the astonished Chamberlain by the arm and leading him out of the door.

Windsong, Skysong, Thora and Assumpta were trying to get Oscar to uncurl. Em just sat there looking bewildered. Aris said nothing.

“Everyone sit down, please.” Jon said, rubbing his temples. Skai pushed Oscar’s knees down forcibly, clambered into his lap and attached her arms around his neck.

“Stop crying right now. Only babies cry.” She said, in a passable imitation of Thora. Oscar looked up, surprised. Skai leaned back and wiped his face clumsily with her sleeve. “What’s the matter?” She asked.

“I killed her.” Oscar said, hopelessly.

“So what? I’ve killed things.”

“You don’t understand. I felt her die. I liked it.”

“Oh yeah.” Skai grinned. “That’s always good. When they stop twitching.”

Oscar retched.

“If you throw up, I’ll punch you.” Skai said, clenching a fist. “Pow!”

Oscar stopped. By now everyone else had also stopped to watch the little tableau.

“She was just trying to help me get better.”

Aris leaned across the table and spoke to Skysong. “Hey, Skai.” She turned to face him. Aris continued. “Oscar is sad because a very bad man, a friend of Klot’s, you remember Klot?” Skai nodded. “He poisoned Oscar so Oscar would be bad like Joel. While Oscar was poisoned, he killed a lady who was trying to help him get better. Now he’s better but he thinks it’s his fault even though it isn’t, it was the Joel in him that did it, not him. And so it’s making him sad, very very sad.”

“But that’s stupid.” Skai said. She turned back to Oscar. “You’re stupid. Joel did it, not you.”

“Joel’s a part of me.” Oscar said, hollowly.

Jon took over. “Skysong, Oscar and Joel used to be the same person. He split himself in two.”

“Ah.” Em said, quietly. “That explains a lot.”

Skai frowned. “O…kay…Hm. Ah.” She appeared to think for a long time. “Well, when you were the person you were before, would you have done what you did?”

Oscar took over the hard thinking. He tried to remember being Josephus, based on what he knew about the man he was. “No… no, I don’t think I would. I had control over Joel then.”

Skai ignored the rhyme. “Then it’s got to be the poison. You wouldn’t have done it otherwise. Bet you wouldn’t have enjoyed it either. Which is silly, because killing things is brilliant fun!” She folded her arms in an ‘I have spoken’ manner.

“Skai, Oscar is a human. They don’t like death as much as we do.” Windsong pointed out.

“Well, some of us do.” Aris admitted. “They tend to get in a lot of trouble though.”

Oscar looked at Skai and half-smiled. “Is that what everyone thinks?” He said.

There was a hurried nodding around the table and murmurs of ‘not your fault’.

“Man, you wouldn’t even go for Joel when we offered him up on a plate.” Vinny said. “It’d take some seriously funky shit to make you hurt anybody. I wouldn’t even believe it if Jon hadn’t been the one who told me.”

“I brought the doctor!” Jake said, appearing at the door with a purple creature of some sort.

“That’s not the Royal Physician.” Windsong pointed out.

“Er, yes, hello.” Said the purple doctor. “The Royal Physician is dealing with wounded troops. I’m the Auxiliary Royal Physician. I’m Dr Zendo.”

“You seem familiar.” Oscar said. “Haven’t I seen you on an asteroid somewhere?”

“I have seventeen nest-mates who are all physicians in various places. Our family is big on seeing the galaxy. Mother insisted. I think you’re referring to Zendo 7, who runs the medical facilities on a truck stop somewhere. Who’s the patient?”

“Me, I guess.” Oscar said. “I feel better now.”

“I’ll check you just in case.” Dr Zendo said, crossing the room and producing the obligatory beeping instruments. “Excuse me, your royal highness.” Skai gave Oscar one last hug and released him to return to her seat.

“Elevated adrenaline and acetylcholine levels, high ketones.” The doctor said. “I suggest you take some deep breaths and eat something. Residual traces of some foreign compound in the kidney and liver. They seem to be half broken down and about to be excreted, so I wouldn’t worry about them. Stay off the drugs.”

“Oh, I will.” Oscar agreed.

Skai took the bowl of sausages from in front of Thora and poked one at his face. “You better eat and keep your strength up.” She said.

“Mff.” Oscar replied, as when he opened his mouth, Skai had stuffed a sausage into it. She offered one to the doctor, who was just putting his instruments away again.

“No thank you, your highness.” He said. “If your majesties don’t require me any further, I can return to the infirmary?”

“Yes, of course.” Windsong said. The doctor bowed and left.

Vinny turned back to Jon. “Was that the serious news?”

“Jon.” Oscar said, urgently. “No more, please. Can’t it wait?” Skai poked more sausages at him. Assumpta poured him a glass of water.

Jon shook his head. Although he was reluctant to pile more sorrows on the shoulders of his friends, he would have to tell them sooner or later.

“Let me.” Aris said. He took a deep breath. “David’s dead. Klot killed him. He took my wife and daughter too.”

“Remind me to have Klot declared Anathema throughout my WHOLE EMPIRE.” Wyn said, furiously.

“Damn right.” Vinny agreed.

“Not just David.” Aris said. “Your friend. The dragon.”

Oscar’s head bowed, but Skai had her arms around his neck again before he had the chance to make a noise, and he hugged her like some kind of oversized teddy bear. Vinny’s eyes widened.

“Gauss?” Windsong half-shrieked. “It’s not true! It’s not. I’m going to speak to Nike.” She pushed her chair back so fast it fell over and ran into another room.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Vinny said, wearily.

Jon nodded. “I saw the body.”

“I saw him die.” Aris agreed.

Vinny sat back in his chair and sighed. Then he leaned forwards so his hair (neatly combed, for once) fell across his face and his shoulders began to shake.

“Shit. Shit. I only ever said bad stuff to that guy and now he’s dead.” Jake said, his fur standing up in horror and his ears lying flat with guilt.

Windsong ran back into the room. “It’s true!” She said, hysterically, flinging herself at Vinny, who clung onto her, and burying herself in his robes. “Nike said she and Keh, had been up all night consoling the widow.”

Em stared at the table, torn between happiness that another Gauss had met his end and empathy with Vinny’s grief. Thora offered handkerchiefs to Skai who was now crying onto Oscar’s shoulder. Assumpta had gone white as a sheet. Aris took off his hat respectfully.

The tsunami of grief washed through the room, leaving devastation behind.

Miriam had felt progressively more and more uneasy all. She had arrived in the J-Train to discover to her surprise that Sylvia and the ancestor brothers were there had already been researching everything they could find about the ROCKET and were had it ready to pass on to anyone who needed. They explained about the angel and why they were with the Hikari-no and made her promise not to reveal their location until they were needed to launch the ROCKET. Then when she felt the distress from Oscar get unusually intense, she had sent Jon and Assumpta to help out him and Vinny with the promise that she would come if called. Dumla, Jorgen, Fendegist and Sylvia had gathered to see Miriam off.

“We’ve uploaded all the data we found to your ship.” Dumla said. “With this, and the information you already have, we hope you can find the answers and save the universe. If not… “ He shrugged. “Well, maybe we’ll be lucky and the Unwritten Ones won’t find us.”

“Come on, lady. I’m pumped up and ready to ride!” The J-Train said, enthusiastically, sounding like a high-school jock about to run out onto the football field (as usual).

“So grately do aye wish I could join thee onne the battelfield!” Fendegist (who picked up languages very fast) said, slapping her on the back enthusiastically in a manner which would have sent anyone who was not a nano-bot creature flying across the room.

“Indede.” Jorgen (he did too) agreed. “You haff butte to calle uponne uss when you wish to launche the ROCK-ETTE and we shall be there!”

“Send Josephus my regards.” Sylvia smiled.

As Miriam got into pilot’s seat, the J-Train took off. the checked for the feel of the minds of her friends, and a vast backwash of grief hit her, making her blink. No-one was in any position to talk at the moment. This annoyed and worried her. She wanted to know what was happening. Of course, there was always one other person she could try. It wasn’t like he could do her any harm, after all.

Joel?

After a short while, there was a response. It was a storm of anger.

Bitch, Ima telling you just what I told DAMOCLES. GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY HEAD!

Oh, you stupid man, I don’t want to take you over, I just want to know what’s happened to Oscar.

Joel calmed down a little. Why should I tell you?

Because it’s probably something bad and you can gloat.

Ooh, you little sweet-talker. Okay, you persuaded me. I fixed him right up. They put the barrier back between us and I took back what was mine. He’s going through some bad shit right now, cause while we were outta it he killed some dragon bitch. Least, I think he is, you’ll probably know better than me.

He is.

Good good. Right now, I’m off to find that skinny little British bitch of a vampire, and I’m gonna shake his hand for what he did to Oscar and then I’m gonna smack him in the kisser for what he did to me.

Nevin? Well, I don’t think there’s anyone who’ll mind you hitting him. I expect you’ll have to join the queue, he seems to annoy everyone.

That’s okay, I’m a queue-jumper. Well, it’s been wonderful speaking to you, I don’t think. Now as I was saying, GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY HEAD!

Miriam wisely receded before the tide of mental green fire hit her.

“Oscar seems to have recovered.” She said.

“The Doc’s all better? That’s great news!” The J-Train said. “And look.. nooo hostiles on the horizon. We can try that ‘going around the asteroid belt instead of getting the snot beaten out of us by big rocks’ thing we were talking about before.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Miriam smiled.

“Hey… lady.” The J-Train said, conspiratorially. “You know how I’m a computer.”

“Yes.” Said Miriam. “My name is Miriam, by the way.”

“Sure.. And you know how you’re a computer.”

“Technically.” Said Miriam.

“Well, how’s about you and me..”

“You want to have sex?” Miriam blinked.

“Jeeeeesus, lady, I mean Miriam, you’re a fast worker. I meant do you wanna go on a date?”

“What, e-candle-lit dinner for two on your mainframe?”

“No, that guy who runs Wei Palace taught me this neat trick for making a body outta…”

“I’m flattered, but we really do have to stop the universe from ending.”

The J-Train sounded dejected. “Yeah … you’re right, I guess. After we save the universe?”

“If you insist.”

“WOOHOO!”

Emmanuel sat in his room in the dark listening to the sporadic outbreaks of desperate, painful howling, with his stomach full of lead and a lump the size and shape of a Megiddo prickly egg-plant in his throat. He could feel a sick hollowness inside him. He was vaguely happy Werner Gauss was dead, but painfully aware that Skai, Vinny and all the people who had been kind to him were mourning the silver dragon. This made him feel guilt, which was not an emotion usually experienced by his kind, and pushed him further into his usual black pit of uncertainty and anger. He was almost starting to miss the his cell back on Megiddo. Things had been simpler there, especially after all the doctors had disappeared and left him alone with the food dispensers for a few months. He’d really had time to think. Out here, things were more colourful, but confusing, and they induced strange feelings in him, mostly annoyance and fear, which weren’t very enjoyable, but there was the warm happiness he experienced when his noble rescuer was around. Though Em was more than half a century old, he had experienced so little for such a long time and become so used to a closed environment that the outside world was as scary and bewildering to him as it would be to a five-year old.

Someone knocked on his door. He looked up, wondering if it was Skai. He liked Skai because she was roughly as vicious as he was, but with a child’s openness. She was always banging on his door in the morning and demanding he come and see something she’d found or sitting next to him at dinner and asking him if he wanted to climb some particularly dangerous rocks with her. She treated him like an equal, not like someone to be taken care of and kept where it was safe all the time.

“Come in.”

Jake Omnibus poked his head around the door. “Em?”

Emmanuel smiled. He liked Jake too, but mostly because of his resemblance to Vinny, “You can turn the light on.”

Jake did so. “Hey kid.”

“Please stop calling me kid.” Emmanuel complained. “You aren’t that much older than me, remember?”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Shyeah. It’s yer face, y’know? Ya look so young.” He shrugged. “How are you doing?”

Em blinked. “What do you mean? None of my friends are dead. Just my entire family, race, you know.”

Jake frowned. “Harsh much? Eh, I keep forgetting you’re just as crazy as everyone else on this planet. You talk so normal. None of the ‘let’s go kill stuff, woo, you got claws, come kill stuff with me old chap, hohoho!’”

“Yes, well, I don’t really feel it’s necessary to talk about it all the time. I suppose on this planet, you’re the crazy one.” Em replied, straight-faced.

Jake waved a finger at him. “You know, you may just be right… ah.. you just gonna sit here in the dark on your own?”

“The wretched pain-racked howls will soothe me to sleep.” Em said.

Jake looked at him sidelong. “Well.. if they don’t and you need someone to talk to or somethin’… ah, I’m no good at this.”

“Don’t worry, you can tell Thora you’ve done your duty by the ‘poor motherless boy’.”

“You heard her say that, huh?”

“Skysong and I were hiding..er… playing “The Last Terrible and Blood-Soaked Defence of Fort Zeldon” under the table.”

“It’s good of you to stay with her all the time. ”

“Nonsense, she’s the only one with any sense around here.”

“Hahah. Yeah, I know that feeling. Okay, that’s enough now, see you later.” Jake flicked off the light and closed the door.

Well, that’s not quite it, Em thought. She’s the daughter of my protectors, and perhaps if I look after her for fifty years, I’ll have repaid them. Oh, Vincit, I wish you weren’t married to the other daughter of my protectors. I wish you could be mine. No, I wish it hadn’t been you that rescued me. I wish it hadn’t been you that hurt yourself selflessly to get me out into this collapsing galaxy. Couldn’t you have just left me there?

He bit his lip, an unconsciously anthropomorphic gesture he’d picked up from Skai when she was thinking.

I’m being stupid. I can never have Vincit, I know that, and it would be an insult to the family of my protectors to try and take their King away from their Queen. I’ll just have to stop loving him. Somehow. It’ll be difficult with him around all the time, but I’ll try. Besides, from the sound of it Moebius is going to destroy the entire universe, so I might not have to keep it up for long. I can fight with them against the Unwritten Ones. I can try to help save the universe.

“Are you sure?”

Em nearly fell off the bed. “Who’s there?” He shifted to battleform and his eyes made out the vague shape of a woman in the gloom. The light flicked on, though she was no-where near the switch and revealed a woman who seemed to be carved out of ebony and white marble. Her eyes were holes in space-time that drew in the eye and her hair seemed to writhe, like snakes. Two black wings were loosely folded across her back and swayed gently. She seemed to be in a constant state of movement, a permanent chaotic flux. It was hard to look at her for long. When she spoke, her voice was a non-voice that blanked out all sound with short absorbing silences. Somehow the silences made word.

“I am the Dragon of Mirrors, the Shadow Dragoness. The first dragon. I come from a time only dragons remember. I am Saurin-Saurin. I am your ancestor. We are first and last, you and I. Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending.”

“I… it’s an honour to meet you.”

“You want to help prevent the end of the universe?”

Emmanuel nodded.

“I will give you power. I will give you your inheritance, your right as the last scion of Saurin. I will give you the Truth. Invicta veritate.”

Emmanuel sat up and almost leapt to his feet. “What do I have to do?”

The lady held out her hand and smiled. The proffered limb seemed to vibrate and pull everything towards it to be crushed, like a black hole. Emmanuel felt his own hand drawn to hers. He reached out unhesitatingly and locked his delicate fingers around hers. She drew him into her embrace by magnetism alone, and once there among the quiet, Emmanuel experienced a new sensation.

Abject, soul-quaking terror.

The woman ran her rapidly disintegrating fingers down his hair, leaving trails of powdery-black tenebrosity “Saurin-Saurin was my greatest opponent. It is fitting that I take you, her last son, in her form, just as I took her when she ended, in despair, exiled. I give you your right as her descendant, I give you the Truth. The Truth is, everything must end. In time, I take all, and make it as if it never was.”

Just before his soul was subsumed by merciless Eçaraia, Emmanuel realised he had been tricked. Then he felt only hollowness and finally, sank into oblivion.

The light went out.

Oscar and Jon sat in the ante-room of the royal apartments, a rather disturbing chamber tastefully decorated in black and red and hung with the severed and preserved heads of various Erendauerian species, relics of the Royal Family’s passion for hunting. The howling had stopped a short while ago, and they were hoping at some point Vinny and Windsong would emerge from within.

“Is Miriam back yet?” Oscar asked, mostly for something to say. They had been sitting in silence for a while now.

“I know not.” Jon replied, polishing his sword. “Shall we ask her?”

“Um. I dunno. Don’t want to bug her. She might be busy. Do you think she knows about Gauss?”

“I have informed her.” Jon said.

“Okay.”

They sat in silence for a while. Then they both frowned at the same time. They looked at each other.

“Do you feel like..” Oscar

“..someone is watching us?” Jon finished.

“It seems I cannot hide myself from two so close to the Lord.” Uziel said, stepping out from the shadows under a particularly disturbing and spiky head, and ducking to avoid being poked in the eye. His byzantine locks were ruffled as if by a heavy wind and there was dust on the hem of his robe.

“Hail, Saint Jonathan, beloved of the Lord. Hail Ioch… Ja.. Ian…Tz… Josephu…forgive me, what is your name now?”

“Oscar.” Said Oscar.

“Hail Os-gar.”

“Close enough. Uh, hail.”

“Hail and welcome.” Said Jon. “You are Prinzip Uziel?”

“I am.” The angel nodded. “But I can no longer name myself Prinzip, for there is no Dewnheem any more, and so I am relieved of title and role and am again Uziel, Lieutenant of Ji’brail, Mal’ak of the Hashishim and Destroyer of Those Who Think Themselves Invulnerable.” His eyes blazed as he spoke his name and the shadow of his wings hung briefly behind him. “I am come to extend condolences and… to seek protection.”

“Protection?” Jon said, surprised. Oscar looked at him, then at Uziel, confused. “O angel, what protection can such as we offer one such as you?”

“You must know by now that without me, the ROCKET cannot be launched? If you did not, then you do now. Moebius has used me before, for I was foolish and allowed him to gain hold over me by threatening innocents. I thought to protect them…. vanity… I am destroyer, not protector. Now his agents have destroyed Dewnheem, I have…” The fires in the angel’s eyes dampened in sadness.”… failed to protect them, but he has also lost his power over my will. I will not allow Moebius to use me again, though that will be difficult for I am only an angel and cannot see what he is planning. And so, I have come here.. with this…” He held out his palms, as if in supplication. A shape began to crystallise out of the air, a matrix of pure rigidity, fixed and immutable. It formed a fuzzy plush lobster.

Oscar smiled. “It’s cute.” Jon shot a warning look at him.

Uziel scowled. “Perhaps you think so. But behold, in this.. ‘cute’ … form is contained all the Ordering Power of the Universe. It is one part of the Tres and vital to Moebius’ plans.” The fuzzy lobster disappeared, the same way it had appeared. The angel spread his hands and smiled, like a conjurer finishing a trick. “Moebius wishes to launch the ROCKET. You, I, and all the free peoples of the universe must prevent that, by helping the King take up his rightful place and undo the damage Mobius and his emissaries have done. And so, if the King permits, I will stay and fight by his side. Then when he reaches the ROCKET, I reach the ROCKET at the same time. Not when Moebius decrees it, but when the King decrees it! “ With that announcement, the angel rose his arms joyfully towards the ceiling and sang a short verse of praise to God in a voice of thunder.

The door into the royal chambers slammed back, and Vinny appeared, wild-eyed and with his hair and clothes in a mess.

“Who the FUCK is singing!!?” He yelled. “Have some fuckin’ respect!”

Uziel shrunk back and folded his hands in penitence and humility. “Forgive me, forgive me o King. Forgive my disrespect at your mourning.”

“It’s you, huh? I told you, one Kingdom is enough.” Vinny snapped, one paw on his hip, flexing the claws of the other angrily.

Oscar stepped between the angel and the angry king and held up his hands placatingly. “Vinny, Uziel says Dewnheem’s been defeated by the Unwritten Ones. He’s come here because he has no-where else to go. He wants to fight with us and stop Moebius launching the ROCKET.

Vinny’s expression softened, but he looked at Oscar, not at Uziel. “Ok. I guess we can use all the help we can get.”

Uziel stepped forward past Oscar and spoke to Vinny. “Forgive me, your majesty, when we spoke before you seemed to think I meant I wished you to be King of Dewnheem. I meant only that you were to save them. The line of Prinzip Okmahr is not eradicated, his remaining decendants have been taken to a place of safety, in preparation for your restoration of the galaxy.” The angel lifted his burnished head, hopefully. He approached Vinny, who looked confused and knelt at his feet, producing a flaming sword out of no-where and offering it up to Vinny, who grinned in recognition.

“I offer you my allegiance, O King.”

Vinny took a deep breath and gingerly laid a paw on the flaming sword. The jet-black fire licked across his hand, but did no harm to anyone Uziel did not wish it to, only warmed a little.

“I accept.” He said. “Now arise, for fuck’s sake. I hate it when people kneel in fronta me.”

Uziel arose as commanded and bowed, making the flaming sword vanish with [insert noun here]-ian sleight of hand.

“I salute you as my liege before the Lord of All Hosts on High.” He said. “And beg forgiveness for my earlier impropriety. I extend the deepest condolences for the loss of your friend, the most noble and exalted Archduke Wernher Gauss.”

Vinny looked blank.

Jon cleared his throat. “Uziel wisheth it to be known that he is sorry for your loss.”

“Oh…” Vinny waved a hand. “Yeah… sorry… got it. Thanks.” He looked at Oscar and Jon and prepared to fulfil the ellipsis quotient for the day. “You guys.. about that.. I’m sorry about going all … stupid and useless like that. I know we got a universe to save and everything and there’ll be time for all this… stuff later.”

“Oh Vinny… “ Oscar exclaimed, adding his own elliptical contribution. “Don’t be like that. This hit everybody really hard. We all feel bad.”

“It is well.” Jon said. “We must attend to our task. Miriam..”

“…just got back.” Windsong said, appearing at the door behind Vinny, smiling a little. “Come on, we’re going to the war room.”

“Em! Em!” Skai banged happily on the door of the darkened room, all pretence of grief forgotten in the excitement all around her. “Miriam’s come back! There’s going to be serious talking.” She frowned, bit her lip, then hammered on the door again. “Wake up, wake up!” Her fist missed the final knock.

Eçaraia opened the door to Emmanuel’s room and smiled down at the pretty little child.

And Skai, she who in years to come would be known as Princess Skysong the Fearless, ten year-old daughter of a lineage as ancient as civilisation and vicious as the Sabretooth Tiger, who stuck out her tongue at ravening beasts, who ate the organs of vanquished foes raw, who laughed as she plunged into a black hole, put her hands to her mouth, whimpered and ran away.

Miriam stood before a tableful of Wendauerian high-ups, our intrepid heroes and their friends and associates. “Thank you all for coming at such short notice.” She said. She placed a datacube on the table in front of her. “Here, ladies and gentlemen is all the information I could find regarding the ROCKET, the ultimate weapon that we believe Moebius wishes to use to rule the universe, from Gamezohan intelligence files, particularly a report from Agent Maximille of the Triple Eye, historical records, and other such sources. This information is available for anyone who wishes to access it in order to help prevent Moebius from carrying out his scheme.”

There was nodding and hear hear-ing around the table.

Miriam waited for the murmuring to calm down. “For those of you who have not yet been informed, I will explain…” She paused, looking for the right terms. “The existence of the ROCKET. The ROCKET was created by the lost race known as the Dht'n'k'lz to save the universe. It was not specified in what circumstances this would be required, but I should think the situation we’re currently in probably qualifies for its use. Although it may only be our particular galaxies that have got themselves into such a mess with creatures from the outer darkness, it seems that if everything here is destroyed, it will cause a chain reaction which will echo across the universe causing the whole thing to collapse into oblivion. In truth, I don’t think it is just our area that’s in trouble now, the ripples already seem to be spreading. There are listening posts and observatories across the galaxy that watch the stars and pick up strange activity and they’ve been reporting strange occurrences across the universe. Entire systems of stars dying, swirling nebulae of unknown origin appearing out of no-where and wiping out everything in their path.”

“The astronomers told me a galaxy vanished last week!” The head of the Royal Wendaurian Society for the Pursuit of Better Technology for Killing Things With exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “Vanished, into thin space, just like that. It’s unprecedented!”

“Yes, quite.” Miriam nodded. “Whatever else is going on, we are all aware that the Unwritten Ones are on their way to Wendauer. The Gamezohans are slowing them down, but estimates suggest they will be on us within two, maybe three months.

“And when they come, we shall stand and fight until every last Wendauerian has met his end!” General Leefe roared.

“Damn right!” Vinny roared back. Windsong nodded, gleefully.

“And we shall stand with thee!” Master Hendricks of the Seraphic Order stood up and banged his fist down on the table.

“Aye!” Agreed the Mother Superior of the Most Chaste and Holy Brides, large and voluptuous redheaded lady who fought with a claymore, and was incidentally a descendent of Jorgen’s third daughter. Assumpta smiled and nodded agreement.

“Ja, wir also.” Sun-Heat Woman gave the table a thumbs-up. “Until zee last breass in our bodies and all zat.” White-Poplar Woman giggled a little at her companion’s nonchalant tone.

“Dewnheem has fallen: Uziel is one of a few survivors.” Miriam said. The byzantine angel nodded, sadly. “We must try to stop this destruction before there’s nothing left. We must prevent Moebius from launching the ROCKET by launching it ourselves and using it to save the universe.”

“This can be done?” General Sartoreus raised an eyebrow.

Miriam nodded. “The ROCKET was never designed to be launched by Moebius. It was designed to be launched by us. We know this because we’re the only ones with all the correct components. This also confirms why we’re all together at the same time. The universe has been trying to set up all the conditions to save itself. It’s an organism, a huge organism and we are a small part of its immune system.”

“I’ve heard that theory before.” The head of the Royal Society said. “I’ve also heard that the organism in question is sentient.”

“We think so, yes.” Miriam said. “It’s not just ourselves we have to save here, or so it seems. We may be saving the life of God, or at least he….” She glanced at the christians across the table, some of whom were beginning to frown and then at Jon who looked nervous. “Or at least his Creation.” She continued.

“There have been miracles.” Said the Mother Superior, thoughtfully. “The End Times have truly come upon us?”

“No. But I think Moebius is trying to bring them on prematurely.” Miriam replied.

“He has no right!” The nun exclaimed. “He is the very Servant of Satan to do such a thing.”

“If you but knew, Sister, the truth of your words.” Uziel said, solemnly.

“He may well be.” Miriam said. “We know the following things about Moebius: If the information Jonathan discovered is correct..” She gestured towards Jon. “He was born on earth only a few decades ago, but he has interfered with his own personal timeline so often that he seems to have been around since long before human civilisation began and has served several of the Gamezohan Emperors in his time. We assume he projected himself extremely far into the past in order to begin his machinations. Information gained from the Blessed Anaxerretibes, Jacob Syne and the remnant of the Dht’n’k’lz in the Temple of Sol..”

“If I have remembered it correctly.” Jon warned.

“…suggests that Moebius may have been created, born, something like that as a result of an error in the workings of the Pyramid, which seems to send fluctuations out into the universe once every googleplex or so, inducing the appearance of a being of Supreme Intellect. The first fluctuation resulted in the aforementioned enlightened being. The second was flawed. It resulted in Moebius. We suspect that on reaching maturity, Moebius found himself in possession of his Supreme Intellect without the memory or the inherent enlightenment of Anaxerretibes and proceeded to use it to gain dark powers for whatever ends he felt best, namely ruling the universe. Further information on Moebius is contained in the reports given to us by Jacob Syne.”

“That’s right!” Vinny interrupted. “When he had me chained up..”

There were murmurs of anger at this indignity visited on the King.

“Thanks guys, appreciate it. Kudos to Assumpta for rescuing me.”

Sister Assumpta blushed.

Vinny went on. “Yeah, Moe said only someone who knew everything that was ever going to happen ever’d be able to direct the ROCKET and then we’d never be able to do it because only he and Anaxythingy knew that stuff.”

“He’s quite right.” Miriam smiled. “On some things, but wrong on others, because you see, we have Jon. Anaxerretibes gave him that power. As anyway who attended their Majesties’ wedding may remember.”

“That is true.” Jon said. “But alas, I am unable to access it.”

“When the time is right, you’ll probably be able to. Jon is one of the necessary components for launch, and I believe the power he is speaking of is what Maximille refers to as ‘The Grail’, the thing which is right beside you but inaccessible until the right moment. ” She smiled. “He is the Seiðrman, which St Jorgen informs me is the correct term for ‘shaman’ among his people and refers to a state of ‘seething’, wherein the individual is like the surface of a cauldron, or a cup of liquid, and just below the surface is the required wisdom, hidden in the depths. To continue, as Agent Maximille’s report attests, the ROCKET itself seems to be a conjunction of people, or at least energy patterns within people or otherwise, in or around the Pyramid. The most important components are the Tres, or The Most Powerful Objects in the Universe 1,2 and 3. Creation, Preservation and Destruction. One to destroy the universe, one to preserve something past the destruction and one to recreate the universe from that something. Moebius possesses the power of Destruction, but the other two we have. Uziel..” Miriam pointed at the angel. “Holds the power of Preservation, of Order. He has joined our side in order to prevent Moebius from forcing him to use it until the correct time. The power of creation is currently held by St Jorgen and Fendegist of the Schwarzwald.”

There was whispering among the christians in the hall.

“They informed me they have been sent down to earth by the angel M’Alphael in order to act as a kind of Grandfather Lock for the ROCKET by holding this power until it is needed. Sylvia Darian-Marik is the true avatar of Creation, and the power will pass back to her upon their deaths. Until such time they act as her guardians and Bearers of her Burden, and the three of them will remain hidden in a safe place. Without their deaths, the ROCKET cannot be launched. If Sylvia dies before them, God forbid, the power will instead pass to Sister Assumpta.”

Sister Assumpta went white instead of red. “Me? But…”

“Apparently the Gosling considers you pure of heart and enough of an opponent of Moebius to look after it.” Miriam said.

“I… am honoured…” Sister Assumpta said, with a little bow of her head.

Miriam started talking again to save Assumpta the embarrassment. “In Moebius’ ROCKET the power of Order would be used to preserve him, and he would assumedly recreate the universe the way he wished it to be. I do not know how he wishes it to be, but I imagine it is nothing good, given what we know of him.”

There was more general nodding and muttering of agreement.

“In our ROCKET, the preserved would be one of our members, who would then recreate the universe renewed and healed. I suspect from Max’s report this member would be the King, the one bred to the task from a hundred lines of Kings, the one born to be the Greatest Leader in the Universe. Vincit.”

“It’s a big responsibility, and I don’t really want to do it, but hey, I don’t have much choice.” Vinny told them all.

“We trust you.” Oscar said. “Everyone does.”

More nodding.

“Thanks.” Vinny said, smiling half-heartedly.

“It is the Right of the King that all have faith in him.” Miriam agreed. “After the King, the next component is the Axis.” Miriam went on. “The Axis is a soul, bred over several generations to such darkness and despair that it accepts its fate as a conduit with no resistance whatsoever. It connects all the components of the pyramid to each other.”

“That’s got to be Whutty.” Oscar said.

“That is indeed Ricardus Whutty von Sphexoren.” Miriam confirmed. “We are going to ask Imperatrix Nike if we can borrow him. Moebius cannot allow him to die, so we’re fairly sure he won’t end up getting killed at any point. On to the Pyramid’s power source. Max refers to this as Mux/Plohr and Reunion. It seems to refer to the Reunion of a dragon of the purest possible blood with a fae of the purest possible blood. Such a Reunion would generate a surge of power of awesome proportions. All evidence points to this pair being Krystal of Halak and Wernher Gauss. On learning of the Archduke’s death I considered ruling out this possibility, but then I found reports of being known as the Domina Stannafolia, or the Tinfoil Lady.”

Assumpta gasped.

Miriam looked at her briefly. “On the death of Wernher Gauss, Reunion should have been achieved between the two purest. Every being in the galaxy should have felt the event. It was not, and they did not. Someone, or something has shredded the soul of Krystal of Halak into the being known as the Tinfoil Lady. It is entirely possible that the soul of Wernher Gauss is floating around in the aether somewhere awaiting reunion with his beloved, and she will not come. In order for Reunion to be achieved, she must be found, and the damage undone. And it must be undone at precisely the right moment to fuel the ROCKET. Because there is another way to fuel the ROCKET, a more terrible way. And that is by the release of Bushthulhu from imprisonment within the Pyramid.”

There were gasps of horror and looks of confusion from around the Pyramid.

Miriam nodded, solemnly. “Most of you know Bushthulhu as a Great Old One, a horror from beyond the outer darkness, and that is indeed what he, and his brethren such as Yog Sothoth, Nylonathotep, Shudde M’ell, Azathoth and Shub Niggurath are. Too infrequently, however is the question asked ‘What are they Gods of?’. I felt it would be best to investigate what we could be facing, and was fortunate enough to find one of the last volumes of the ‘Bumper Book of Unspeakable Horrors’, of which only eight were produced before the publishers were consumed by a freak black hole forming in the middle of their premises and consequently destroying the entire star system and everything for several million miles around. This book includes in its lizard-skin pages, commentaries on several sections from the Necro- and Necrocryptozoonomicons.”

“You read the Necronomicon?” Vinny exclaimed.

“Parts of it.”

“What was it like?”

Miriam looked thoughtful. “It went on about how terrible the eldritch horrors were a lot and then came out with something of an anticlimax at the end. Anyway, among the commentaries there is one piece by an obscure researcher named Lomleigh who mysteriously vanished, as most of the people involved with such books seem to. He suggested that the Great Old Ones were not simply huge and terrible beings, but in fact the deities of long lost peoples, deities who ruled over certain aspects of their lives, the personifications of certain forces. For example, Nylonathotep always seems to be associated with the power of the mind: It was suggested by the researcher that Nylonathotep was in fact the “God” of Telepathy, the Blind Idiot God Azathoth the “God” of Nuclear Destruction, or at least any kind of vastly powerful explosive destructive weapon which wipes out all in its path, such as the giant lasers used to destroy Totolli Two. Using this concept, what writings exist regarding Bushthulhu seem to point to some great force of bigoted destruction. Bushthulhu, ladies and gentlemen, is the God of Destroying Your Neighbour Because They’re Slightly Different From You, You Don’t Understand Them And That Frightens You. He rules over religious wars, neighbourhood feuds, racism and all such things. Moebius intends to release this force, probably onto some unsuspecting and highly populous planet or system. Brother will take arms against brother, family against family, district against district in an orgy of irrational fear-induced destruction and use the mass of energy released to fuel the ROCKET.”

There was an outcry. Everyone started talking at once.

“That bastard!”

“Terrible!”

“Insane!”

“Son of Satan!”

And suchlike. Miriam waited for it to all calm down and spoke again. “The final component is the Throne, upon which the King sits. I suspect it may refer to me, or in Moebius’ ROCKET, DAMOCLES. DAMOCLES and I come from the same source. We were programmed for the purpose of running the ROCKET program. If the pyramid is an operating system, we are its command.com. We were programmed for this by Dr Josephus de Viaminima, and he is the one who must give the run command.” Miriam pointed to Oscar.

At the mention of his old name, Oscar sat up. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” Miriam said. “All that remains is the location of the Pyramid. After it was discovered by Mihai Costescu in the possession of the Chamaleen, it was taken under the orders of Moebius and hidden in a safe place. I thought at first this place referred to the sub-dimension accessible by means of the Gamezohan sceptre, referred to as the Terracotta Protocol, but the Protocol was opened recently to allow the use of the troops contained within in battle, which eliminated it. The movement of the Pyramid and its location were kept so secret that even I, and undoubtedly DAMOCLES could not ascertain its location. Then I came across the personal logs of a House Ticine engineer who wrote about a top secret project he had been involved in, a project so secret that he only knew a tiny part of the information concerning it. The only vague clue he gave was in the following quote – ‘Counsellor Moebius came to check up on the project today. He said nothing to anyone, only repeated the words ‘damn late elves’ over and over again. Everyone is firmly of the opinion that he is absolutely binkers, but the orders he gives come directly from the Emperor himself, so we must put up with it.’ Ladies and gentlemen, your majesties, I believe I know the location of the Pyramid. I believe it is on the lost homeland of the Fae: Palantenna. Maxmille’s report refers to the City on the Hill as the location of the pyramid. With typical Gamezohacentricism…”

There was laughter around the table, particularly from the Wendauerian generals.

“He assumed the city in question was Kubrik and the Hill was a metaphor for a place of cultural exchange. Kubrik is not atop a hill. However, as several Fae texts attest, Endya Minnasnor, the City of Spiral Pillars, the fabled capital city of Palantenna is indeed atop a large hill, overlooking the lake Ailinnar. I may be wrong, but it is the best guess we have. Bearing all the aforesaid in mind, it seems we have four objectives to fulfil before we can complete the ROCKET: 1) Find Ricardus Whutty, which shouldn’t be too hard with the Imperatrix’ help. 2)Find and heal Krystal of Halak to ensure the Reunion occurs. 3)Find Palantenna and the Pyramid. 4)Stay alive. Our biggest problem is that Moebius already knows everything we’re going to do. He knows we are going to try to get to the Pyramid and launch it before he does, therefore when we find the Pyramid, we will undoubtedly find him waiting there to take advantage of the fact that we will be present with all the necessary components. We must find some way of preventing him from using us. In addition, he still has several tricks up his sleeve, allies such as ex-Silberwyrmritter Klot, who has already proved himself capable of regicide, DAMOCLES, Joel Diablo and undoubtedly countless other. He has also captured the wife and daughter of Ariston Delapore.” Miriam held out a hand towards Aris, who the received sympathetic glances from persons around the table. “…either for purposes of blackmail or some other nefarious scheme. The clock is against us and we are fighting an almost invulnerable enemy who threatens the entire universe. With God’s help, we will prevail.” Miriam made a little bow, and then went to her seat beside Jon.

Windsong stood up. “Are there any questions? Or suggestions?”

Sister Assumpta raised a hand. Wyn waved for her to speak. She stood up, uncertainly.

“I have seen Krystal of Halak.. or rather the thing she has become, when I went to bring the Archduke from the clutches of the Duchess Salyra, who had tortured Krystal’s spirit so to make her the thing of blades and death. There was a knight.. Chevalier Lucius Block, a faithful Silberwyrmritter, I believe, who summoned her to our aid.. but the Summoning was fatal to him. I remember the words he used before his noble sacrifice. I will put them to paper if you wish, perhaps if the Summoning is performed by one with the strength to withstand the mortal wound, or by one willing to sacrifice themselves, we could bring her here to us?”

“Good idea.” Windsong said. Assumpta curtseyed and sat down. “Thank you for that, Sister. Any more suggestions?”

“Vell, kick me iff I am beink a dumkopf, but don’t you zink if ve vant to know vere ze Ljosalfar planet iss, ve should ask zem?” Sun-Heat Woman said, looking up from picking at her nails.

“Ooh, great idea!” Vinny said, snapping her fingers.. “Can we find that pirate guy… with the hair…the one who kidnapped Nicky?”

“Valendil?” Miriam asked. “He’ll be hard to find. Perhaps we could try Pyrite Halak instead, as long as he isn’t already dead.”

“Either one. Both. Whatever.” Vinny shrugged.

“Anything more?” Windsong asked.

“What are your majesty’s orders to her troops?” de Sartoreus asked, standing up.

Windsong looked thoughtful. “As we aren’t vital to the ROCKET, our job is to protect those who are until they can get there. So, do what you’re best at. Fight. The King and the others might need some troops to get them to Palantenna if they have to cross enemy territory. Whatever we can do to buy them extra time to save the universe.”

Vinny felt a little bothered. It sounded like Windsong was planning to stay on Erendauer. But then, it was her home, and she was the queen, and maybe what with the baby and all, it’d be better to keep her out of danger as far as possible. As the king, he should really be staying with his people as well, but he supposed saving the universe included them anyway.

De Sartoreus bowed. “Perhaps now would be an opportune time to discuss battle plans for the defence of the Kingdom then, your Majesty.”

“Absolutely!” Wyn said, rubbing her hands enthusiastically. After all that boring metaphysical talk, she was up for a bit of battle planning.

Just outside the door, Jake and Thora were discussing what they’d eavesdropped so far in hushed voices. Skai came running down the corridor, hit Jake at waist height, and clung there like a limpet.

“Hey, hey, Skai honey, what’s the matter?” He asked, patting her awkwardly on the head.

Skai just buried herself in Jake’s fur and shook her head.

Thora peered around his furry haunches. “Oh, the poor dear is shivering! And so pale!” She exclaimed.

De Sartoreus had unrolled a huge map across the table which projected a holographic image of Wendaurian space into the air just above it. He gestured with a pointy stick while Leefe and two other generals handed him notes and small floating markers.

“If we place the 3rd Battalion of Lord Falchaust’s Heavy Cruisers here to defend the pass between Zelmar and the Freigo system…” He elaborated, pointing to several red blobs.

Oscar yawned behind his hand. Sun-Heat Woman yawned openly. Jon and Assumpta tried to look attentive. Vinny blinked.

A black shape, twenty feet long dropped out of the rafters and plunged straight towards him. Windsong shrieked and dived for cover. Vinny fell backwards out of his chair, rolled head over heels and ended up on all fours. He looked up and saw scaly black claws heading for his face. He jammed his paws into the lining of his coat (which he had developed a habit of wearing under the adjusted royal robes, much to the chagrin of the chamberlain) and brought them out with the Claws of Fendegist ready to protect his head.

The blow, however, did not come. Instead, there was a swirl of black robes, a clang and a roar.

Uziel held up his flaming sword, the claws of the dragon caught upon it, its great weight bearing down upon him. With a mighty effort, he forced the beast backwards, and swung with the sword again for its neck, forcing it to flow sinuously out of the way, winding around him like the Lambton Wyrm. He kept up the swings and the dragon the movements, destroying nearby chairs and knocking a chunk out of the table. The dragon dived for his left wing, tearing out a jawful of feathers and narrowly missing having its neck hewn in two. This seemed to enrage the angel further, and his swings became more wild. The dragon took to the air to escape flaming death, but Uziel followed, beating his wings. Shortly afterwards, came a slew of blue fireballs, shrieks of rage and another angel, white winged, his sword flaming red, not black.

“For heaven’s sake, try not to hit them, your majesty!” Someone called.

Oh, shit shit shit, thought Vinny. Now would be a good time to change into Big Scary Me. Gotta think bad, angry thought.. Hey.. that thing nearly hurt Wyn… and the baby…

The red mist came down.

“Everybody get BACK!” He yelled, as he felt the curvatures in his spine begin to reverse direction.

“Hee, go Vinny!” Windsong jumped up and down.

The Great Beast bellowed with rage, and reared up on its hind legs. Oscar and Uziel darted out of the way, and the dragon tried to, but its body was too long, and its tail dragged behind. The Great Beast caught it in its jaws, and crashed back down onto all fours, swinging the dragon like a whip and slamming it down across the table, stunned. Uziel dropped out of the air and landed gracefully next to the dragon's exposed throat, pointing his blade at the soft parts under the jaw. The dragon began to shrink, and shrink until it was the size of a man, and Emmanuel Saurin lay there. He sat up.

Windsong jumped up on the table. “Em.. what are you doing?”

“Who is this?” Uziel said, keeping the point of the sword trained on the black dragon’s throat.

“It’s Vinny’s friend Emmanuel… I think he’s the last black dragon or something.”

“Then your husband’s friend is lost. This is no true dragon, though she wears the shell of a dragon, indeed.” Uziel said. “This is the Queen of Oblivion. Do not move, harridan, lest I divest thee of thy clothing of flesh.” He said, through clenched teeth. The form of Emmanuel leaned back away from the sword.

Up above them, Oscar was trying to persuade Vinny to calm down and change back, flitting around in front of him like a little white bird trying to avoid the jaws of a cat. Vaguely aware that somehow the danger was over and the prey was gone, the Great Beast began to shrink until it was Vinny again. He picked up his discarded cloak, as Oscar landed next to him, and covered himself up with it to avoid scaring the nuns.

“Windsong..” Emmanuel stammered. “You know me, don’t you. You won’t let him hurt me, will you?”

“No, of course not. Put that sword away..”

Vinny stepped in between Uziel and Windsong and stared at Emmanuel.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I…”

Vinny sniffed. “You smell like you’re lying with your whole body.” He leaned over, stared into the dragon’s eyes, and quaked at what he saw there. “Holy shit… that’s not Em.”

“It is the Queen of Oblivion, Eçaraia, the Sterile Ender of Worlds. To think that she would come to Malkuth.” Uziel said. “Say the word, Majesties, and I shall slay her who hath slain your friend and taken his form. If there be any one who believes herself invulnerable, and thus is my rightful prey, it is her.”

Eçaraia smiled. “You’ll have to catch me first.” She said, and vanished.

“A THOUSAND CURSES UPON HER!!!” Uziel roared, throwing his sword to the floor in rage, where it vanished.

“Hey, hey.” Vinny patted him on the shoulder. “Cool down. No-one’s hurt, ‘cept maybe the Chamberlain when he sees what happened to the furniture. You did good there, saved my skin. Thanks.”

“I have sworn allegiance.” Uziel said, bowing politely.

“You too Osc..” Vinny said, turning to the other angel. “Hey, are you okay?”

Oscar nodded and took a deep breath. “It’s ok, Em caught me across the stomach with his claw. Just a scratch.” He brought his hand away covered in blood.

“Oh, Lord, not again.” Jon muttered, hurrying over to catch the Angel as he fell, slinging Oscar’s arm over his shoulder.

Uziel took the other one. Jon looked at him.

“Come, let us bear brave Iochshephael, nobly wounded in battle to a physician.” Uziel said, cheerfully, grinning at Oscar. “At this rate, they’ll be letting thee back into heaven, eh?”

“Unh..” Said Oscar.

“Is he going to be okay?” Vinny asked.

“Fear not, brother.” Jon said, as they carried Oscar away. “He hath taken worse enow. Trust me.”

“Yeah, sure..”

Miriam held the door open for them and closed it behind them.

There was silence in the hall for a while.

“Vell, zat vos a vunderfull show, joor majesties!” Sun-Heat Woman exclaimed. “Do you do von of zose every day?”

“Heh.” Vinny scratched his head, embarrassed. “Well, not every day but, y’know, more often than you’d think..”

Sutra 0

or

Yin

Nevin seemed to be in a cheerful mood. He swivelled round and round in the co-pilot’s chair.

“O Sing I of the Young White Lamb;
The oen in the field.
And to the sound of my Lamb Song;
Heedingly shalt thou yield.

For sooth did he ap Urien, stung
By swift-offending Kai,
Ride out to the fountain;
Beneath the cloudy sky.

Knight of the Fountain, Lion’s Friend;
Much beloved of Idris
He rides, three hundred ravens behind
Unvanquished yet, iwys.

Ap Gruffyd held the dragon high;
Of him the poets sing
He beat old Henry’s arse clean raw;
Powys’ Prince and Cymru King!

He walks the hills still, the old man;
His beard with grey shot through.
Rrann vawr a ddywaid i varw;
y brudwyr a ddywedant na bu

And then there’s I, ap Arawn;
My song’s near done, my friend.
No-one knew I’d live to see;
The end of end of end.

O cartref, lost forever;
Forever and a day.
They slew my pretty Prydein;
And I’ll see the shinachs pay.”

Kara smiled as she piloted the ship and thought to herself that he really was a very silly man.

“Where are we going now?” Nevin asked, still spinning.

“Food.” Kara said. “Looking for a planet where the inhabitants actually bleed.”

“Red for preference.” Nevin said. “Although it’s all about the energeeeeeeee. Was that a song? I think it was a song. I think I heard it.”

“Could be.” Kara shrugged and engaged the auto-pilot. She looked at, or rather faced, Nevin. “Look, I know you aren’t fond of my father, but I want to see him again. I spent a long time looking for him. I miss him.”

“Oh, I know that.” Nevin answered, flapping a hand up and down. “Still don’t know why you decided to bugger off with me in the first place.”

“I can go if you like.” Kara said, turning her nose up. “If it matters to you so little. Perhaps I have the wrong idea about you.”

Nevin tilted his head on one side and looked at her until she began to get uncomfortable under his gaze.

“Oh.. I’m sorry. I wish you could have met him before DAMOCLES and Moebius got at him. He was strong, brave, powerful and honourable. Everyone in our village looked up to him. Now he’s… obsessive, authoritarian, psychotic. I want the old him back.” She sighed. “That why I decided to “bugger off with you in the first place”. That isn’t my father any more. I wish…” Her eyes widened.

KARA

Nevin blinked in the middle of his staring and smiled a little.

She held up a hand. “It’s DAMOCLES…If you’re going to chide me about going off again…”

“I know.” Nevin said. “I was waiting for him to start talking.”

NO, NO. THAT WAS YOUR DECISION, AND BESIDES WHICH, YOU CAN FURTHER OUR AIMS JUST AS WELL SEPARATELY. BETTER, EVEN. PLEASE CONGRATULATE NO-ONE FOR HIS RECENT WORK ON OSCAR ANGELES, BY THE WAY. IT VERY NEARLY RESULTED IN THE DEATH OF BOTH HE AND JOEL.

“DAMOCLES says well done for what you did to Oscar.”

Nevin shrugged and continued watching.

YOU WISH TO SEE YOUR FATHER AGAIN. THAT IS GOOD, BECAUSE I WISH TO CALL A MEETING. PLANS MUST BE MADE. THE KING AND HIS ALLIES HAVE COME DANGEROUSLY CLOSE TO DISCOVERING THE LOCATION OF THE ROCKET AND SERIOUSLY INTERFERING WITH MOEBIUS’ PLANS. A CONCERTED EFFORT TO STOP THEM MUST BE MADE.

“I understand. What do you want me to do?”

GO TO THE PLANET DISCORDIA. I WILL GIVE YOU DIRECTIONS.

Suddenly, the route appeared in her head.

YOU WILL BE MET THERE. YOUR FATHER WILL BE THERE. The voice of DAMOCLES faded away.

Kara smiled. “All right.”

“Whassat?”

“We’re going to Discordia.”

“What’s the food like there?”

“No-eyed deer.”

“Sounds tasty.”

GOOD MORNING JOEL. The food dispenser Joel was trying to break into said, red text scrolling across the screen which normally said ‘EXACT CHANGE ONLY’ all the time.

Joel glanced around to see if anyone was playing a joke on him. It was early. No-one was out on the streets. Anyone who was up at this time in Kubrik was probably doing katas or something.

“Just because you’re being friendly ain’t gonna stop me from taking this plate off.” He told the machine, tapping the plate with a stolen screwdriver.

I’M NOT THE FOOD DISPENSER. I DON’T MIND WHAT YOU DO TO THE FOOD DISPENSER. I’M DAMOCLES.

Joel brought his fist down on the screen, shattering it.

THAT WAS UNNECESSARY. The food dispenser said, a robotic voice coming out of the depths of the hatch.

Joel lifted it and looked for the microphone.

HEAR ME OUT, PLEASE. I’M NOT TRYING YOU INVADE OR ENSLAVE YOU.

Joel went back to working at the plate in case the microphone could be got at from there. “Hah, ya couldn’t even do that if ya wanted to. I ain’t working for you. I ain’t working for Moebius. Joel Diablo works for one guy.” He thumped his chest. “Joel Diablo. Me. I already tried working for you, remember? You left me in with that Takako bitch and I ended up just as trussed up as Oscar was. Did you step in to get me out, good buddy Damo? Did you fuck. No, that little blond shit had to come fetch us and that was just so he could fuck us up by giving Oscar spiked shit. You guys are just as out for yourselves as I am.”

There was a pause.

IS THERE ANYTHING I CAN DO TO PERSUADE YOU TO COME TO A MEETING?

“Nope.” The was a creak as the plate started to bend at one corner.

IF YOU WANT FOOD, I CAN GIVE YOU FOOD.

The dispenser dropped a bar into the hatch.

“Oh, you fuckin’ ruined it. Breaking in is half the fun.” Joel complained, but picked the energy bar out of the hatch anyway, opened it up and bit into it. He regarded the dispenser slyly. “You seem different, you computerised shit. Less of the ‘do this’, more of the ‘please do this’. What happened, someone teach you manners? Heh, like I care.” He looked up at the lightening sky and chewed on the energy bar. It was some crazy Gamezohan flavour he didn’t recognise.

DO YOU WANT ANYTHING?

“If it’ll make you fuck off and stop bugging me, I’ll tell you the same thing I told nanobitch. I wanna find the British vampire fuckwit and beat the shit out of him. Then I wanna find Oscar and beat the shit outta him until he admits I’m best and puts me in charge where I belong.’ Joel jabbed a thumb at his stomach. “Mind you, a five course banquet, a good soft bed and some juicy tail to fuck wouldn’t go amiss.”

I CAN DO LITTLE ABOUT OSCAR ANGELES, BUT THE FORMER AND THE LATTER ARE AVAILABLE. DAMOCLES said. THE VAMPIRE IS ON HIS WAY TO THE MEETING.

“Where? And who’s gonna be there?”

MOEBIUS, OBVIOUSLY. HE IS EVERYWHERE.

“Obviously.”

KLOT.

“Fuck Klot.”

I WOULDN’T ADVISE IT.

“Heh, you think you’re so funny. Who else?”

KLOT’S DAUGHTER, KARA AND NEVIN THE VAMPIRE.

Joel chewed thoughtfully. “Okay. You sold me on the ‘free vacation if you come to the timeshare meeting’ shit. But there had better be twinkies at the banquet.”

TWINKIES THE SIZE OF YOUR HEAD. I’LL GIVE YOU DIRECTIONS.

“Those are some big twinkies…”

The Planet Discordia is located near the very tip of one of the outer spiral arms of the galaxy. It orbits binary stars which the Discordians refer to as the Sacred Chao because of the symbol it resembles. Discordia (of which only a small area is actually occupied) is an Anarchist Utopia, completely lacking government, where people pretty much do whatever they feel like and are very chilled about it all. They live in small, laid back Lotus-eater-style communes of 20-100 people enjoying each others’ company, moving on to a different commune whenever they feel like it. The general temperament of worshippers of the Goddess Eris means that there have never been any wars since the foundation of the community, since they are ‘a bad trip’ man, but there are fourteen annual Tomfoolery Days upon which communities are permitted to play dirty and humorous tricks on each other. Somehow the place continues to run, probably due to the abundance of easily reachable food and inhabitable caves making it incredibly easy for everyone to live there. The population is kept low by the fact that most people feel it’s a little too much hassle to have kids until it feels right for one to do so. The planet has remained a tropical paradise, as the Discordians have an intense dislike for concrete and other things that make things and places unpretty. Such things may induce very bad trips, therefore an attempt is made to keep the places they life good-trip inducing, full of happy things and pretty flowers and beautiful flowing lines. What technology they have is maintained by people who really really, like messing about with technology and is therefore very, very good, if occasionally quite wacky. They travel across the planet on the giant flying giraffe-creatures which roam the lower plains. This usually makes perfect sense to them, as at any one point at least 50% of the population is absolutely stoned off their heads on something.

Nevin and Kara climbed out of the shuttle-craft and dropped down onto the soft, springy pink turf of the planet. Nevin looked up, enjoying the feeling of the warm white binary suns, which were completely harmless to him and Kara, emitting as they did, an entirely different spectrum to Sol and the sun of Mulaghra Prime, with none of their sacred connotations, to boot. They were met by three women (two human and identical to each other, one with a considerable furriness about her) and a man (whose hair was streaked with various neon shades). They wore basically whatever they felt like. This was not much. They were, unsurprisingly, very stoned.

Two of the women put leis of purple and blue flowers over the vampires’ heads. “In the name of our funky Goddess and St Timothy Leary, patron of our commune, we welcome you to Discordia.” The third woman said.

“Thank you.” Kara said, slightly bewildered.

“Your friends are already here.” I’m Anju, and this is my half-brother Anji.“ She gestured to the man with the neon hair, who waved his hand slowly, and watched it as it went past. “These two are Zara and Zeena.”

“We’re identical twins.” Said the one on the left, giggling.

“You’re not allowed to know which of us is which.” The other joined in the giggling. “Only we know.” “Sometimes we call each other by the wrong names just to confuse people, don’t we Zara?”

“That’s right, Zara!”

Both twins burst into fits of laughter.

Kara rolled her eyes. Nevin started giggling with the twins.

“I’m Kara, this is Nevin.” Kara said.

“Good to meet you.” Anju said. A smile slowly spread across her face. “Sorry, what was your name again?”

“Kara.” Kara said, exasperatedly.

“Hey, what’s with the teeth?” Zara, or possibly Zeena asked, pulling a surprised Nevin’s jaw down and peering inside his mouth.

“At’s oiz eer ankires.” Nevin replied.

“Whas at?”

“He says they’re vampires.” Zeena, or maybe Zara told her sister. The twins were quite small and had bright purple eyes and bluish-purple hair, as well as multiple piercings in identical places all down all their ears. They even wore identical clothes. They could have been either wendauerian or human.

“Oh, wow, cool!” The first twin exclaimed, abruptly letting go of Nevin’s jaw, and almost causing him to bite his tongue in two. She held out her arm. “You totally gotta bite me! I hear it’s a major high. G’wan, s’ok.”

“Look, really, we..” Kara began.

Nevin shrugged, took hold of the twin’s hand, pulled her wrist to his mouth (causing her to spin around and end up against him like a dancing partner) and bit down. She went weak at the knees and nearly fell over, but Nevin was quite practised at this sort of thing, and caught her.

“Oh wow… oh wow…” She said, writhing against him, blissfully. “Oh, man, you gotta try this…”

Nevin let go, returned PossiblyZarapossiblyZeena’s wrist to her.

“Let me have a turn?” The other twin asked.

Nevin went cross-eyed. “This ..place is.. brilliant…” He swayed a little. “How long cn w… Bloody hell, what have you been taking..?”

Very slowly, he fell over.

“Lightweight…” Anji commented, to some invisible person off to the left of him.

“You think so?” Kara said. “You can carry him, then.”

Anji squinted at her. “Hey lady… woah… you got no eyes….”

Kara sighed.

Once Nevin had recovered sufficiently to stand up, the vampires were led to the commune, which turned out to be a mixture of mud and wooden houses interspersed with the odd stone building. All were very harmoniously constructed, if a little disturbing in places. Most of the houses had a small hemp crop outside the front door, with the odd patch of mushrooms here and there. Animals roamed freely, some were from earth and some probably natives. There were several goats. Goats are nonchalant and unpredictable and therefore were believed by the Discordians to be sacred to Eris, as Anju explained. “You get to meet Lark now.” She informed them, or rather, informed the space in between them.

“Weeeeeeee.” Said Nevin, dazedly. He was being propped up on either side by Zara and Zeena, who broke out into sporadic bouts of giggles whenever he said anything.

“Is that your leader?” Kara asked Anju. Anji laughed.

“Hee. Leader. You’re silly. Discordians don’t have leaders. He’s just very very smart.” Anju told her.

“You smell good. Are you candy?” Nevin asked the twin on his left.

“If you want me to be!” She laughed. Kara glared at her. Or at least turned to her with a frown.

Anju took them into one of the stone buildings, a fairly squat one with interesting swirly carvings on the front. Just inside the door, the walls were painted in hundreds of different shades and pigments forming vague shapes and the room was lit by a small disco-ball.

“The walls are moving.” Nevin commented. He smiled. “I like it when they do that.”

Across the room, a thin curtain moved. ”Come through!” Someone called.

Anju waved for them to follow her and she took them through the curtain into another room, this time lined with red velvet draperies. There were people around the floor sat on red cushions. The air was thick with scented smoke and it was hard to see anyone’s face.

“Oh, hey!” Said one man, standing up. “You brought them. Yay.”

“Yeah.” Anju agreed.

“You can leave them here if you like. Thanks. Goddess be with you.”

“And also with you.” Anju replied.

“Boogy-woogy.” Anji added.

The twins let Nevin slide to the floor. He looked up at them, bewildered. “Unh?”

“Stick around.” Said one.

“We’ll see you later. Just ask anyone where we live.” Said the other one.

They winked simultaneously and ran away, giggling. Kara sneered at them as they went.

Anju waved and backed away through the curtain, followed by Anji.

“Sit down, make yourself comfortable.” The man who’d stood up said, gesturing. He was very thin, thinner than Nevin with hair almost as pale blonde and strange eyes. He always seemed to be moving, as if he couldn’t stay still, but his movements had an odd angular grace. Nevin, already sat down, pulled himself over a cushion and shuffled onto it. Kara sat down politely.

“Kara?” A familiar voice asked.

“Father?” Klot was sitting to one side of the thin man. A small ring of black petals had already formed around him, and were giving off their usual dark scent.

“Kara.” He said. “At least you’re still capable of obeying orders from DAMOCLES, if you seem to have forgotten your father.” Kara looked down.

“Please, please, people. No headtrips here. This is a place of peace.” The thin man said, spreading his hands magnanimously and sitting down with his legs crossed. “Greetings all. I am known to some as Krohnsinger Lark.”

Nevin squinted at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Welcome to Discordia. Now we’re all assembled, perhaps we can begin.”

“S’cuse me buddy, one minute.’ Someone said, standing up and crossing the room to kneel down next to Nevin. “You No-one?” He asked.

“Yeeeeez.” Nevin squinted at him.

“The Vampire?” He asked.

“Last time I checked.” Nevin nodded, trying to see who it was through the haze of drug-filled blood and smoke.

“Great!” The person said, taking him by the hand and shaking it vigorously. “This is for what you did to Oscar. Great job! Thanks!”

Then he punched him in the face. Nevin was too whacked out to dodge properly, and he managed to get quite a good smack on his jaw which sent him sprawling onto his back.

Nevin sat up and stared at his assailant.

“And that’s for what you did to me.” Joel said, shaking the life back into his mangled fist. Punching Nevin had been like hitting a steel plate.

Nevin stared some more for a little longer. Then he cracked a smile. “I deserved that!” He said, and collapsed into another fit of laughter.

“I’m done.” Joel said, sitting back down.

“Are you all right?” Kara asked, leaning over Nevin, who grinned at her.

“The idiot acts like that all the time.” Klot said, angrily.

“Anybody else feel the need to kick the shit out of each other?” Lark asked, smiling with amusement.

“Nope.” Joel replied, sucking his knuckles.

“I will speak to Kara later.” Klot said.

Nevin suddenly let out an ear-piercing peal of laughter. Klot growled.

“Now I understand you all absolutely hate each other…” Lark began.

“I don’t hate that chick with no eyes.” Joel admitted. “She’s pretty hot, actually.” Kara made a contemptuous noise.

“Everyone likes Kara. She’s pretty.” Nevin agreed, sitting up.

“She is my daughter.” Klot said, but it wasn’t clear exactly why.

“Okay, you all absolutely hate each other except for Kara who everyone likes.” Lark said, waving a hand at Kara. “But Moebius would like you all to have a talk and agree to get on with each other, ok? The final battle is coming soon and he needs everyone who’s on Team Moe on the same page.”

“Where is Moebius?” Kara asked.

“Oh, he’s around.” Lark said, cheerfully.

“He’s e-very-wheeeere.” Joel said, wiggling his fingers and speaking in a spooky voice.

“Quite right.” Lark agreed. “Just like wherever Klot and Kara are, DAMOCLES is, wherever I am, Moebius is.” He smiled.

“Spooky brain link, huh?” Joel asked.

“Right again, Mister Diablo.”

“Ain’t I smart today.” Joel said. “Now, about this ‘same page’. Fuck it. I ain’t on Team Moe. Team Moe can go fuck itself up it’s stupid ass. Except Kara, ‘course. I came here for this here talk purely ‘cause Damo made me a pretty sweet offer involving food, chicks and laying out Mr Giggles over there. And I will admit, the chicks around here were most enjoyable, as was the food high class and the beds soft, and I have indeed laid the smackdown. So I’m putting up my end and hearing you out. But I ain’t batting for Team Moe, anyway anyhow. As I said to Nanoboy, the only team I bat for is Team Me.”

“Oh, but Joel, Moebius needs you.” Lark told him, patting the demon on the shoulder and making Joel want to kill him slowly with sharp things. “You are a technological genius, or at least you could be. No, you should be! It was through your drive and passion that DAMOCLES was created, and you must run his program on the operating system that is the Pyramid in order to launch the ROCKET. It is absolutely imperative that you subsume Oscar Angeles and take the technomancy skills and genius of Dr Josephus de Viaminima which rightfully belong to you, man.”

“But don’t think you can sweet-talk me just like that. Uh..what does ‘subsume’ mean?”

“Suppress. Take control from. Take over. Destroy. Rem....”

“Okay, okay, I got it.”

“Groovy. It is vital that you achieve dominance over Oscar Angeles. Moebius is prepared to do everything in his power to help that come about.”

“I don’t need anyone’s help.” Joel said, uncertainly.

“If that’s so, why have you still not managed it, after a decade of trying?”

“Shut the hell up you smart-ass motherfucker.” Joel snapped. Klot smirked, nastily. Nevin started to fulfil his role as Mr Giggles again.

“Chill, chill. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Joel.” Lark consoled. “Obviously you and Angeles are evenly matched in power. We just need to tip the balance a little towards your side. Or a lot.”

Joel seemed to think for a while. Part of him was absolutely furious at being proven useless and just wanted to fireball the fuck out of everyone in the room. But a small part of him pointed out that would probably get him killed, and anyway, they were right, weren’t they? And wouldn’t it be good to have Oscar served up to him on a plate, terrified and helpless? With that image, the small part of him managed to sway the big angry part. “All right.” He said. “I’m not stupid. You’re right. That’s why I agreed to help Damo out the first time. He said he’d give me hand…uh…subsuming Oscar, I’ve yet ta see that shit delivered up to me in any way, but I’ll admit he didn’t welch on the last deal. This place is pretty sweet. So you need me for the big plan, huh? What’ll I get out of it?”

“All the rewards you can possibly desire in Moebius’ New Universal Order.”

“Ooh, that’s a lotta rewards.”

“The same applies to everyone here.” Lark gestured around the room.

“I only wish to serve Moebius and DAMOCLES.” Klot said.

“I too.” Kara said, quickly. Klot turned to face her and she smiled a little.

“Whatdyeneedmefor?” Asked Nevin.

Lark looked at him oddly. “You are… Moebius doesn’t know what you’re going to do, strangely. He can’t work you out. He’d rather have you working for him than wandering around doing whatever you feel like. Obviously you will also be given all the rewards you can possibly desire as well, which I expect probably involves a lot of blood.”

“Lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and….” Nevin agreed, and carried on like that for a while. Lark talked over him.

“The King and his allies are only a few steps away from discovering the location of the Pyramid. They have some of the necessary keys for using it to launch the ROCKET. Therefore, when they arrive at the Pyramid, we must be waiting for them, and we must also do our best to prevent them from launching the ROCKET on their terms. Some steps have already been taken to prevent on their launching it, but they have also taken steps to prevent our launching it, including shifting the power of creation into a pair of resurrected souls who will only release it when they choose to die. These two must meet their end at our hands, not when they choose it. Other parts unnecessary to our rocket but necessary to theirs can be destroyed, such the King and Saint Jonathan. Moebius believes the King can be… broken, but he has something special planned for Saint Jonathan, his destruction will require special measures.”

“May I volunteer for the breaking?” Klot asked.

“Damn, ya beat me to it.” Joel said.

“You are running the Pyramid.” Klot told him. “Don’t be selfish.”

“Bite me.” Joel said.

“Urgh. The very thought disgusts me.”

Joel flipped him the bird.

“That’s enough now.” Lark told them. “Talking over. Time to chill, eat, drink, fuck and be merry. Take advantage of our hospitality, although please don’t kill anybody or punch anybody else.” He looked at Joel. “That would be a real downer.”

“…..and lots and lots and lots and lots and oh good.” Nevin finished. “Dinner time.”

“I’ve given you all quarters in the next room.” Lark said, pointing through another curtain. “He stood up. ”I’m off to smoke a fat one, all this talking has tired me out. Make yourselves at home. Mi casa es su casa, etcetera and all that.” With that, he strolled out of the room.

“Wooeee.” Joel said, rubbing his hands together. “Outta my way, people, I got a date with a lady I met out by the mushroom patch. See you at dinner, ya motherfuckers.” He leapt to his feet and beat feet out of the room backwards, making obscene gestures at Klot and Nevin and winking at Kara as he went.

“I like him.” Nevin said, sitting up again.

“He punched you!” Kara exclaimed.

“Yes, but he’s fun, see? Anyway, I’ll get him, don’t worry. Hey, Bozo…”

Klot just had time to look up as a blonde streak stole something from around his neck, and then Nevin was sat exactly w