Engor

Julien and the Nine Worlds

Book II
Julien the Emperor

Chapters 50-62

Tannder's patience and stubbornness eventually paid dividends. He had kept his attack dogs on a very short leash, forbidding them from taking any action unless he authorised it first. This hadn't proved popular: some of his best intelligence officers suspected that he was holding them back so that he could take the glory of finally capturing their prey himself. But he had dug his heels in. Only when he judged that they would be unable to make any further progress without interrogating the enemy did he allow his men to launch their operation.

There were casualties: men who had not hesitated to attack the Emperor and his associates were certainly not squeamish about shooting down a number of Warriors who were unlucky enough to cross their line of fire. Others, either out of loyalty to their cause or through fear of what they might have to endure if captured, chose to commit suicide. Tannder's men had originally targeted twenty people, and fourteen of them were eventually taken alive and subsequently probed, giving a fragmented but nonetheless useful idea of what they were up against.

***

"These people," Subadar told Julien, "come from an alien culture that is entirely dedicated towards the conquest of other worlds. Dvârinn, in this case. Their own planet is running out of resources. Indeed, it was never intended as a permanent home: right from the start it was a last resort, an uncomfortable place that simply offered them temporary shelter while they looked for something better."

"I'm not sure that I follow you. Are you saying that they actually came from some other place, and that they didn't really belong where they attacked us from?"

"Sorry, I'll try to be more clear. In the beginning these people lived somewhere that was probably quite like the Nine Worlds. We don't know very much about it because the people we captured aren't historians, or even scientists. The only knowledge they possess is what they needed to allow them to carry out their mission. Maybe one day we'll find someone who can answer all our questions, but for now we can only use what we've got. Anyway, at some point in the past they were forced to leave their original world because it had been fatally poisoned by their enemies."

"Where did those enemies come from?"

"We don't know. They might have been off-worlders, or possibly a different nation on the same world. Either way they decided that they had to leave the planet. They possessed, and still possess to a large degree, a very advanced technology and the capacity to build ships capable of travelling at enormous speeds. However, travelling between worlds takes a considerable time, far longer than a human lifetime. But they had no choice. Their astronomers had identified a few stars that had at least one planet which appeared to be suitable for human life and close enough to be reached in around a thousand cycles. So they built, in space, gigantic island-ships which were designed to support whole colonies of people until they reached their destination – in the hope, of course, that when they finally reached the system they were heading for they would be able to find at least one planet there capable of supporting life."

"Didn't they know before setting out?"

"Even with the most powerful instruments it's impossible to say whether or not a planet can support life. The best you can do is to take an educated guess. So they chose five destinations, drew lots to decide which ship would head for which destination and then sent them on their way. They were limited to five ships because that was all they were able to build before the resources ran out and conditions became intolerable.

"Obviously a vast number of people were left behind, and so they threw all that was left of their resources into one final project, which was an enormous no-field generator. The benefit was that once the system was more or less fully operational it did become possible to send exploratory probes, although it took a colossal amount of energy. The big problem, which is the same one that our Guides face, is that they had no idea of where the places they found are in real space. They had to rely on luck and, contrary to what you might think, there are very few places out there that can sustain life. They had tried to aim at the planetary systems they had already sent their ships towards, but even their best mathematicians were unable to translate the spatial co-ordinates used by the ships into instructions that would get them through no-space."

"I can well believe it!"

"But they kept trying – after all, by this stage they had nothing to lose. They were living in underground bunkers and they had no way of knowing whether or not their ships would ever reach their destinations and found new colonies. All that was left of their civilisation was devoted to their search for a new planet. And eventually they found Dalann. It wasn't exactly Paradise, but it was a place where they could live in the open air while they pursued their quest for a better world. But the quest just to get to Dalann hadn't been easy: the no-field generators devoured colossal amounts of energy and could only send limited amounts of mass. Eventually only a tiny proportion of their population had been able to make the move. Stories from that period are confused, and were probably distorted intentionally as time passed, but there are clues to suggest that terrible fights took place for the privilege of being among those sent to Dalann. Their descendants see them as heroes, but probably only the most rapacious, violent and unscrupulous would have been able to survive. Between the departure of the island ships and the final escape into exile through the Outside some two or three hundred cycles must have passed, during which a society that had been aggressive and stupid enough to wreck its own world had probably broken up into factions which tore at each other to get a seat on the lifeboat."

"And when they finally got to their new planet, what did they do?"

"We don't know the details. All of what I've just told you about took place a few thousand cycles ago and, as I said, the people we've been probing are not historians. But it seems that after a long period of regression they refer to as 'The Dark Age' they once again developed into a technological civilisation. About five hundred cycles ago they developed the capacity for space travel, and after that they more or less converted a satellite of a gas giant into a research base whose aim was to develop a powerful new no-field generator."

"And they found us."

"Yes, they discovered Dvârinn."

"But why didn't they simply establish contact with us?"

"They might have been stupid enough to destroy their original world but they are still very intelligent. They wanted to find out about the place they had discovered first, and so they studied our language and customs. They soon realised that they weren't dealing with a primitive civilisation that would be easy to dominate and exploit. The Emperor and his Mirrors presented them with a particular problem, because he creates a unity that spreads far beyond mere local loyalties. So recently all their efforts have gone into trying to destabilise this system. And the Guides were another major source of irritation to them: they had hoped to use them and to force them to work for them, but they quickly discovered that was impossible. And of course the Guides make possible instant contact between different people and cultures, thus strengthening considerably the cohesion and unity they dislike so much."

"All right, but, once again, why didn't they just simply announce themselves, saying something like 'Hello! We're your neighbours – is there any chance that you could give us a bit of a hand?'"

"Mainly because they don't want 'a bit of a hand,' as you put it. They want to own a world and do whatever they want with it. And they know perfectly well that we'll never give them carte blanche to use any part of the Nine Worlds like that."

"Obviously not, but couldn't we help them to find a world that would suit them? We've got the Guides, so that must be a lot easier for us than it is for them, surely?"

"True, but I don't think you realise quite how hard it is to find a world like this one. There are certainly innumerable stars, but if they are to allow life to develop in their systems they have to emit a certain type of light and their planets have to be in a certain place, neither too near the star nor too far from it. The sort of planet we are looking for needs at least one moon big enough to regulate its rotation, and the planet's heart must be hot enough to generate a protective field against certain types of light that come from space. It must also possess water and a breathable atmosphere. And for the atmosphere to be breathable life must have existed in the oceans for long enough for certain transformations to take place. Finally, the planet has to have survived all the possible catastrophes that are likely to destroy such an equilibrium. A single chunk of rock crashing into Nüngen would be all it would take to destroy all life on the planet if the rock was big enough."

"I didn't know that."

"It's true that there are trillions of stars in our galaxy, and the galaxies themselves are probably as numerous. But the odds against finding a world with the sort of ideal conditions we enjoy here are astronomically long. We now know of ten planets like that, which is almost unbelievable. Those worlds are infinitely precious to us. Would you truly entrust such a treasure to the Dalannis?"

"I admit that I think they'd probably ruin such a planet if they found one, just like they did with their own original planet. – and possibly with Dalann, too."

"They knew perfectly well that would be our position. They know we'll never help them in their search, so if they want a world like that they'll have to find it themselves. The original agents who turned themselves in to us were very much aware of it, and the same goes for the ones we've just captured. And their leaders knew it from the start."

"All the same, I'm not sure what they wanted to do. They didn't really think they could fight against the whole of the R'hinz, surely?"

"We still don't know exactly what their plan was, but we do know that they wanted to destabilise our society by attacking you."

"They could have killed me instead of trying to capture me. Wouldn't that have been a more efficient way to get rid of me?"

"Not from their point of view. They've known all along that it's useless to kill the Emperor because he is instantly replaced by a clone. And, of course, that tells us that they don't know your Sleeping Bodies are all dead."

"So they can't have been the ones who killed them."

"Quite. Either that, or the ones we hold now weren't told about it. They do seem to like compartmentalising their forces, so I suppose it's by no means impossible."

"There's something else, too: when they attacked us on my very first day on Nüngen, when I was in the flybubble over the lake, they were definitely trying to kill me. They even sent ghorrs in to finish the job!"

"That's true, and we have no answer to that. Furthermore, the use of ghorrs implies knowledge and techniques which are purely of the R'hinz and which would certainly not be available to outsiders – at least, that's what we think."

"Let's face it: we really don't know very much, do we?"

Niil was trying to decide whether to remain on the Ksantiri First Trankenn or to go back to Nüngen. He didn't really need to stay on Dvârinn: with the help of Lord Tahlil he had made a few key decisions that would set in motion a large program of reform, simplifying the administration to such an extent that most of the opportunities for corruption would disappear.

Any number of apparently well-meaning souls had visited during the previous weeks to suggest, always obliquely, that he was quite mature enough to make his own decisions, rather than relying on the advice of what seemed to be an outsider who was probably far more concerned with what was in the interests of the Emperor, rather than the welfare of the people who were under the administration of the Ksantiris. Niil hadn't bothered Lord Tahlil by mentioning these innuendoes to him, but he had asked his Minister of Finance, the Honourable Lord Medjoung, to take a discreet but thorough interest in the businesses and revenues of each of these benevolent souls.

Four sentences of very, very weighty fines for active and passive corruption and two sentences of exile for piracy later, the flow of well-meaning suggestions had dried to a trickle: now they were only coming from a few individuals who were too stupid to realise that a sea-change had taken place, or from innocents who sincerely believed what they were saying. That was not of course a crime, but they were asked, politely but firmly, to either bring proof of their allegations or to stop spreading what could then be clearly defined as baseless, and probably slanderous, rumours.

Tahlil, who knew exactly what was going on, had watched Niil's first steps along the dangerous path of local politics with both interest and a certain amount of affection: he viewed the boy as at least partly his disciple, and he considered that so far Niil's behaviour had been exemplary. He made no overt comment, though he did throw the weight of his authority behind Niil's decision to give Lord Medjoung the much sought-after status of Privy Councillor as well as Minister of Finance. He thought it was a good thing that the First Lord of the Ksantiris was starting to assemble a team of loyal co-workers – though he also decided that he would keep a close eye on Lord Medjoung for a while, just to make sure that the honour and power he had received didn't start to undermine his integrity.

The ship was now heading for the final stop on the journey, its home port of Ksantir, capital of the Island of Djannak and Niil's birthplace. They weren't due to reach it until the following afternoon, and since they were in one of the rare periods when the local time of the trankenn corresponded with that of Aleth Niil was wondering whether he could go and spend the evening with Julien and, with a bit of luck, the night with Karik. Alternatively he could stay on board and perhaps respond to the clear signs which had been aimed at him, somewhat persistently, by Garael, a young cadet who was on board for a period of training and whose duty, whenever he wasn't studying navigation in a classroom, consisted of running from one end of the ship to the other and, where necessary, launching himself up into the rigging to carry messages on behalf of the ship's officers and boatswains. Niil felt that he could accept the cadet's invitation because he himself had no influence over the day-to-day running of the ship and so couldn't be accused of any sort of favouritism. Garael knew that, of course, and so did his colleagues and officers, which meant that a little relationship would be taken by everyone in the right way – just a chance for two healthy boys to give each other some pleasure, as well as offering the First Lord a chance to escape for a while from the burden of his duties.

Behind them the sun was almost touching the horizon, bathing the swell that ran with the ship in a coppery light and rendering the ocean a strange purple colour, strewn with golden specks of foam. Niil made his decision and called the duty runner, who was waiting nearby.

"Please inform the captain that I wish to take leave of the ship."

The young man saluted and went to inform the captain, who was God on his own vessel, that a mere mortal would like to set foot on the command deck in order to offer his respects.

***

But if Niil had hoped to spend a quiet evening with his friends he was disappointed. As the sky started to darken to the east, almost directly ahead of the ship, a glow similar to that which precedes dawn appeared for a few seconds and then went out. It was as if a second sun had been about to rise and had then thought better of it.

Over the previous year Niil had been forced to learn a lot more than he had wanted about the wars and weapons of the past, and his own brothers' misguided attempt in particular had made him to some extent familiar with the terrible consequences of nuclear weapons. He didn't need to be psychic to realise that someone had just detonated one of the most appalling weapons devised by men. And the horror of that realisation was doubled by his near-certainty of the target of the terrible attack. He rushed to the command deck and pushed his way in, shoving the sentry aside as he did so.

"Honourable Heng Dawan!" he said. "Did you see what I just saw?"

"Yes, My Lord," said the captain, "and I think I probably came to the same conclusion that you did. I've already sent for the duty Guide."

Waï Haïn, a young Guide with almost black fur, arrived a few seconds later.

"Your Honour," said Niil to him, getting in before the captain could speak, "something very serious just happened on or near Djannak. I need you to take me on reconnaissance."

"My Lord!" exclaimed Heng Dawan. "I can't let you take such a risk!"

"I don't have time to argue, Captain," said Julien. "I must see for myself what has happened so that I can report on it to the Emperor. In the meantime, I need the other two Guides on board to go and inform Lord Tahlil and the Emperor, so that he can summon his council ready to hear my report when I get there. I'll send you a messenger with more instructions as soon as I can, but until you hear from me, please continue to make for Djannak with all speed, and order any ship you meet to accompany you and to be prepared to answer any call for help."

"Yes, My Lord."

Then Niil put his hand on the Guide's neck.

We're going to Djannak, he said. I'm afraid Ksantir has been destroyed. I'm sure it was one of the illegal weapons developed by our ancestors. We mustn't get too close without protective equipment. I just need to get an idea of the situation, so I want you to take us the summit of Mount Gyalri – that'll be close enough for me to see what's happening. But you need to get us away again in a hurry if I tell you to.

The Guide acknowledged him and the next moment they were standing on top of a small mountain that overlooked the capital. But the city and its harbour were undamaged. Niil gave himself a moment to savour his relief and then had himself transported to the First House, where a panicked steward told him they had seen "A great glow in the sky in the direction of the Nyatchoung Ling archipelago, and then a moment later we heard a great rumble, louder than a thousand thunderclaps, and nobody had the least idea what…"

"Thank you, Your Honour," Niil interrupted. "I'll go and see what has happened. Tell the Commander of the garrison to keep his troops on alert and to wait for my instructions."

Now, Master Waï Haïn, he added to the Guide, take us out to somewhere near the Nyatchoung Lings, please.

This was a group of very small islands about a hundred and fifty kilometres east of Ksantir which were uninhabited except during the season in which the wengdenn sea-weed was harvested. The Guide, whose job required him to have an encyclopedic knowledge of the geography of Dvârinn, chose first to take them to an atoll which stood only a few metres above sea-level, around thirty kilometres from the closest of the Nyatchoung Ling islands.

We're still too far away, said Niil. We need to get closer and higher up. Can you do that? We haven't got time to go and come back with a flybubble.

I can take you closer and higher, but we'll start to fall as soon as we re-enter normal space. If you let go of me I probably won't be able to re-establish contact with you in time.

I won't let go of you. Let's do it.

They re-materialised about three thousand metres up and immediately started to fall towards the ocean below. Niil kept a firm grip on the Guide's neck and managed to twist his head far enough to see, a few kilometres away, against a bruise-coloured dusk, the dreadful mushroom of fire and dust which was just starting to collapse. Beneath it half of one of the islands smouldered and, in places, flowed in rivers of fire towards the sea.

I've seen enough, said Niil. Take me to Nüngen.

Waï Haïn had also seen enough and was only too glad to be able to return to the immutable calm of the Orientation Table.

***

"An atomic explosion!?" Julien's incredulous horror was obvious.

"Well, it certainly looks like the pictures I've seen. It's an abomination. Half of the island has been completely destroyed, and I didn't hang about to look at the rest. That pillar of fire and ash… it's the most dreadful thing I've ever seen."

"Yes. I've only seen it in films, but I agree with you. I can't understand why some people at home think it's beautiful! I hope you didn't get too close."

"I don't think we were. Anyway, we only stayed for a few ketchiks."

"I still want you both to go and see the Health Masters straight away. They know you're coming. They'll make sure you're not contaminated."

"There's no need, I assure…"

"You don't get to choose. Go right now and get back here as soon as you can. We need you."

Julien tried to remember what he had learned about the subject in his Science and Life classes in school. He was fairly sure from what they had said that Niil and his companion had arrived after the initial flood of gamma rays, and they had obviously missed the flash of detonation, but he wouldn't be able to consider them completely safe for a few days. In the meantime he was determined not to let Niil expose himself to further risk, although he thought that might not be easy to achieve.

"Tahlil," he said, "it is absolutely essential that nobody go anywhere near the site without a protective suit like the one I wore when I went to meet the Neh Kyong of Tchiwa Ri Kor. Round up every Health Master you can find who has any knowledge at all of contamination by that sort of thing and sent them to deal with anyone who was unlucky enough to be near the Nyatchoung Lings. Tannder, have you any idea about how this happened?"

"I can only see two possibilities," said Tannder. "Either some idiot found another cache of hidden weapons and blew himself up investigating them, or the Dalannis are behind it. I suspect that's the more likely case."

"I think I agree, but I can't see how they managed to transport a bomb here when they don't have their machine any longer."

"If it was them we can only assume that they had already moved the bomb here before we cut them off from their home world."

"Yes, but what do they gain from doing this? They must know they're stranded here, and they have to realise that now they've done something like this we're not going to go on treating them with leniency."

"That's what bothers me. This looks a bit like the start of an all-out war."

"But that's insane! There are too few of them and they won't get any more reinforcements! How the hell do they think they can win?"

"Well, maybe they have some more resources that we don't know about yet. Or…"

"Or, maybe one of them is feeling particularly vindictive and has decided to do everything he can to hurt us."

"I don't think that can be it. If someone was looking to damage us he wouldn't have chosen to blow up an uninhabited island."

"I suppose that's true. In any case I'd like you to do some more probing of the more co-operative of the Dalannis. We must have more information…"

The man was clearly scared. He was sitting on a stool in the middle of the Council Chamber, his grey hair and tired face indicating that he was getting on in years. He really didn't look like a warrior. A number of important figures sat around the walls of the little oval room, including a boy with unusually long red hair whose white Marks indicated clearly who he was. All the same, he waited patiently for Master Subadar to open proceedings.

"My Lord," said Subadar, "this is one of the Dalannis who came in of his own accord to offer us his services. He's already undergone a general probe, and he thinks he might be able to give us some information about the explosion in the Nyatchoung Ling archipelago. Personally I believe him completely, and I think you'll find what he has to say interesting."

"What is your name, please?" asked Julien, addressing the man directly.

"Tchernag, Your Lordship."

"You have my undivided attention."

"Your Lordship, I've been living in Ksantir for a long time now. I'm still interested in finding a place where my people can have a better life than they do now, but I'm neither blind nor stupid. I might not always like the way the R'hinz is governed, but I seriously doubt if my own people could do any better. And the fact that they dared to detonate a converter on the planet's surface…"

"What's a converter?"

"It's a device that converts part of its mass into energy at a far higher ratio than any chemical process. I believe it's one of the weapons that has been declared illegal in the R'hinz."

"It certainly has."

"It's illegal on Dalann, too. Converters can only be used in space or on lifeless asteroids. But I think I know why they detonated this one. I can't be absolutely certain, but there has been a lot of talk, even among those who aren't technically minded, about the impossibility of locating in real space places that have been reached using a no-field generator. Several attempts have been made by sending out a kind of beacon that radiates a very brief, but extremely powerful, signal in every direction. The huge energy needed is created by detonating a converter which allows the beacon to function and send out its signal as it is being destroyed by the detonation."

"Do you think that's what happened here?"

"If it wasn't an illegal weapon that had its origins on Dvârinn I would say it's the most likely hypothesis. Perhaps originally it was a beacon that was designed for use in space, and someone decided that, since they had no way of getting it into space, they could try using it on the surface."

"But the signal sent out… it can't travel faster than light, can it?"

"No, of course not!"

"And nobody knows how far Dalann is from Dvârinn. It could take thousands of years for the signal to arrive. It's insane!"

"I agree, Your Lordship. But there is always a tiny possibility that Dalann isn't so very far from Dvârinn. Anyway, if someone had detonated a converter on Dalann it would be considered an unpardonable crime."

"But you don't think we should view it as an act of war?"

"No, Your Lordship. That's the reason I'm here: I thought maybe I could help Your Lordship and your councillors to put a correct interpretation on the event."

"I think you're sincere. All the same, I should perhaps remind you that your colleagues haven't been particularly friendly towards us recently – in fact they have made a number of attempts to kill me, and they succeeded in murdering one of my closest friends in cold blood."

"I wasn't aware of that, My Lord. I'm not particularly important, you understand."

"Still, someone thought you could be useful on Dvârinn."

"That's true, but I was just a small cog in a big engine."

"I suppose that you and your… former colleagues are afraid that an atomic explosion is likely to make us rather less lenient towards those of you who have decided to turn yourselves in?"

"I just want Your Lordship to be aware that only a few very senior people could have made the decision to do such a thing. They're the same people who had a complete overview of what our plan was. Most of us are only too glad to find ourselves forced to settle here in the R'hinz – we're a lot happier here than under the brutal government we had back home."

"Wouldn't you like to be able to go back to your own world?"

"No, not really – and I think that goes for quite a lot of us. We were taken away from our parents when we were still very young, so now we consider our real family to be the one we have built here. And who would choose to leave Dvârinn or Nüngen for an overcrowded world ruled by a military dictatorship?"

"That's quite a critical view of your native world."

"I've been here long enough to see the difference. It took several years, but anyone with a grain of intelligence would have to come to the same conclusion."

"Do you have a family here?"

"I have a wife, two children who have left home and are now living their own lives, and three grandchildren. My wife was born in Ksantir and only found out about my true origins a few weeks ago. She decided that it didn't change anything between us and that she would stay with me and share my fate, whatever that might be. At the moment our neighbours think I'm away visiting relatives in the islands of the south-west."

Julien was silent for a while while he examined the man's face.

"All right," he said. "I'm inclined to believe you. But I have one more question: what would you do if the Dalannis found a way to carry out a full scale invasion of the R'hinz?"

"I've spent quite some time thinking about that, Your Lordship. First, I don't think it is possible – at least, not in my lifetime. But even if it was, I've come to the conclusion that trying to take control of Dvârinn, or even just a couple of small archipelagos, by force would be a bad idea. Nor do I think that such a takeover would actually help those Dalannis who really need help. Worse, I think those who are in charge would probably transform Dvârinn into another Dalann. I don't want that to happen, and I think that a lot of the others who turned themselves in to you feel the same way as I do. I'd go so far as to say that if it came to the crunch I would be ready to fight to defend Dvârinn. I know that makes me a traitor to my own people. But is it really treason to fight for a land one has come to love against those who exiled me and gave me no choice but to spy on a world which was not our enemy?"

"I would say that you are the only one who can answer that. Thank you, Tchernag. I think you should be able to return home soon."

***

Once the Dalanni had left the room Julien turned to Subadar.

"If he's right," he said, "it means we've got time to sort this out. The Dalannis aren't embarking on a mad do-or-die war, and even if their signal does reach Dalann, it will be years, or more probably centuries, for them to get here."

"They could build another no-field generator," Tannder pointed out.

"True, but it sounds as if the machine needs the energy of an entire planet if it's to transport anything sizeable."

Dennkar coughed gently to apologise for breaking into the conversation, then said, "That's why we think that the attempt to abduct you was made, in order to force the Guides to cooperate with them."

"I bloody well hope the Guides would have told them to get stuffed!" exclaimed Julien.

He put his hand on the neck of Wenn Hyaï, who as usual was at his side, and transmitted the Guide's comment to the rest of the gathering.

"Wenn Hyaï says that he can't say for certain what the Guide's Circle would have done, but he thinks they would not have given in. The Guides' first rule is to ensure that nobody can ever force them to use their Gift. He also wants to remind us that although the enquiry into the use of ghorrs against me is still going on, so far there has been nothing in it to suggest that Guides were involved in any way whatsoever."

"So it looks to me," said Aldegard, who until now had not spoken, "as if you'll probably have to deal with the results of this business with our descendants, rather than with us."

To Julien this unexpected reminder of his quasi-immortality came like a punch in the stomach. For a moment he had a vision of a world in which everyone at this meeting would be no more than a memory, characters in a history book. Even Niil, who looked so young as he sat there… Julien closed his eyes, trying to put this unpleasant future out of his mind.

"I suppose that's true," he said, after a pause in which everyone else was probably thinking the same thing, but from a different point of view. "But we still have to do what's necessary now. Lord Tahlil, you're Mirror for Dvârinn, so do you have any suggestions?"

"We could probably offer citizenship to those who want it, provided they are ready to swear allegiance to the Emperor. After all, they've been living among us for a long time and, if that man is anything to go by, they're fully integrated into our population. And we could always check their sincerity with a targeted probing."

"What about the others?"

"We could send them back to Dalann. I understand that a number of target-klirks have been placed secretly on the planet. I don't think they would have any intelligence that the Dalannis don't already possess. And clearly it could be done without endangering the Guides doing the transporting."

"What about any that are still in hiding?"

"I'm sure they are still in contact with some of those who have turned themselves in. We could announce an amnesty for anyone prepared to trust the Emperor's word, and at the same time we could put a time limit on accepting it. Anyone caught after the time limit expires gets an automatic one-way ticket to Tandil."

"How do we deal with the ones who actually killed our people? And what about our own traitors, people like Ajmer? After all, if the senior Dalannis surrendered we'd be able to probe them and that would reveal their entire network."

"It would be your privilege to decide their fate, my Lord. However, the law recommends that anyone conspiring against the Emperor should be sent to Tandil. And for murderers and their accomplices…"

"Tandil too, I suppose." Julien sighed. "All right: for those fools who were seduced by Dalanni agents, let it be proclaimed that they have three days to make amends. Like Ajmer, they will be demoted from any position of authority they may hold and then they will be given the choice between emigrating to Dalann and… anyone got any ideas?"

"We could offer them a job maintaining the sea-marker system in the polar regions, for example," suggested Niil. "That way they'd be doing something useful. And it's a very well-paid job, too – I know that because Ksantir pays an obscene amount of tax to the Imperial Administration to cover the costs of it!"

That remark lightened the atmosphere a little.

"Good," said Julien. "We'll find them some sort of work where they won't be able to do any more plotting. But for the ones with blood on their hands, we can't just let them go with a slap on the wrist. It'll have to be Dalann or Tandil."

"My Lord," said Tannder. "I claim the honour of avenging Aïn's death."

"Sorry, Tannder, but you do not have my permission. If you insist we can send the culprit to Tandil, but I don't want you to fight. I'll see to it personally, as indeed I've already started to do, that Aïn's clan suffer as little as possible from their loss, but I refuse to let those closest to me take part in any more stupid duels."

"But, My Lord…"

"I have no doubt at all that you could kill anyone in single combat, Tannder, but I really don't think that either my honour or Aïn's would be enriched in any way by you doing it."

"But…"

"I'm quite sure that somewhere in the Great Book of Traditions there's an entire chapter giving you the right, and maybe even the duty, to do that kind of thing, but I beg you, as a token of your friendship, to forgo that right. Will you do me that favour?"

"Of course, My Lord."

"Thank you, Tannder. I promise that I appreciate your sacrifice. I imagine that you and Dennkar will be willing to undertake the search for those Dalannis who are still in hiding. As for me, I intend, with the help of Master Subadar and Xarax, who will soon be back to full health, to retake possession of the Imperial Palace. It's not that I fancy living somewhere magnificent – it's more that I think there are some interesting things to find in the Palace. And of course it will free up an entire storey of Bakhtar Tower…"

"Not at all, My Lord," said Aldegard. "I hope you'll continue to see the Tower as an extension of your own home."

"Xarax, you look absolutely magnificent!" said Julien. "Do you feel strong enough to come for a walk in the garden?"

The haptir left the cushion he'd been sleeping on – lengthy naps still took up much of his day – crawled carefully along Julien's arm and settled on his shoulders.

Has Dillik abandoned you? asked Julien.

He's in a history lesson and Master Zertchen won't allow me to stay on his lap. Actually I think that's rather offensive. Perhaps you could have a word…

I'll do nothing of the kind! If he could call on your encyclopaedic memory Dillik wouldn't bother trying to learn anything at all!

Surely you don't think I'd do something like that!

I don't just think it, I know it! You've never been able to say no to him. And since he started looking after you on a full time basis I bet things have got even worse.

I'm hurt – hurt, I tell you – at your lack of trust in me. I think you must be jealous!

Perhaps you're right.

This gentle banter lasted until they reached a descent well, where they stepped into a nacelle that carried them down to the ground floor. Julien was really happy to feel the familiar weight of the haptir on his shoulders once more. It was a warm morning, but the shady paths offered a dewy and pleasantly-perfumed coolness, much appreciated after the stifling heat of the summer. The garden was composed of a great number of sections which blended smoothly into one another without any obvious dividing lines, and it offered miniature landscapes, exotic areas, little hidden nooks and small ponds populated by strange but beautiful species. In general it was possible to wander through the garden without fear, although Julien had been warned about one or two particular creatures which, if you got too close to them, were liable to sting you. The false butterflies, for example, looked amazing with their iridescent light-traps, but if you tried to catch one you were likely to discover that it was capable of inflicting a very painful sting not unlike that of a jellyfish. However, these were the only dangers because, although Julien was unaware of it, he was being shadowed through the garden by a security team who were determined to avoid another incident like the one that had taken place in Denntar Park.

I asked Subadar to help me to settle in back at the Palace, Julien told Xarax. Do you think you'll be able to come and help too sometimes? I'm sure there are things about the Palace that only you know.

Unusually Xarax remained silent for some time before replying.

Obviously I'll come with you, he said eventually. I'm not prepared to let you go to the Palace without me. But I'm not sure if it's a good idea for you to go there. I'm not sure that you're ready just yet.

What do you mean?

If you go to the Palace you'll meet your past.

You mean Yulmir's past.

That's precisely why I don't think you're ready yet: you still refuse to admit that, like it or not, you are Yulmir.

But I'm not Yulmir! I mean…

I know what you mean. You feel that you're Julien, and you can't see how you could be anyone else. And of course you don't want to be anyone else. So far you've been holding on to that very well, but in the Palace…

What?

I'd be very, very careful, that's all.

If there's something you know I want you to tell me.

Julien, you're not the only one who is missing part of his memory. I can feel that there is something that is eluding me, too.

Is that because of you getting shot?

No, it's nothing to do with that. It's something else, and it's directly connected to the Palace. And I'm not happy about it.

Why didn't you tell me this before?

Because I've only just become aware of it.

What, just this minute?

Yes.

So… you'd prefer not to go there?

I don't really know what I want. Sometimes you have to do things you'd rather not do. And obviously it's true that you'll have to go back to the Palace sooner or later. But I'd be a lot happier if we could avoid spending the night there, at least until I've discovered why I have this bad feeling about it.

Of course. Anyway, we'll have to come back here to sleep, because Dillik has trouble sleeping without you.

What are you talking about? Dillik's a big boy and he can manage perfectly well. I'm the one who has trouble sleeping without him!

***

With Wenn Hyaï taking care of the transport and with Master Subadar and Tannder at his side and a very vigilant Xarax on his shoulders, Julien returned to the Palace. He had gently but firmly refused the offer made by Niil and Ambar to accompany him, and he'd come close to losing with patience with Dillik, such was the boy's persistent demand to be allowed to accompany them. This was the third time he'd been inside the Emperor's mysterious domain, although of course he hadn't had a lot of opportunity to explore it until now.

Like Sleeping Beauty's castle, the building – or, rather, the large complex of buildings generally referred to as 'The Palace' – was completely deserted. Only a small detachment of Imperial Guards was posted there, and they regularly rotated to other duties. When they were there they trained and lived in an annex which was usually the only interface with the outside world. It could be accessed by a klirk whose use was restricted to half a dozen Guides, and entry to the rest of the Palace beyond was possible only with a formal invitation from the Emperor or in case of emergency, such as when the presence of intruders had been detected by the Palace's own security equipment, as had happened when Julien and his friends had been attacked in the Ocean Rotunda.

When the Emperor was in residence the Palace was run by a staff under the control of a majordomo who was responsible for the domestic, administrative and security services. It had been decided that Tannder would take on those duties for the time being and that he would reactivate the machinery of the Imperial Household, but without resurrecting those elements of the Administration that were now being carried out by the planetary administrations of the Mirrors, as had been the case since Yulmir's disappearance.

Julien discovered that, contrary to the impression of monumental luxury generated by places like the Ocean Rotunda, most of the Imperial apartments were of an altogether more modest and practical size and were decorated in a way that could almost have been called austere. A practitioner of Zen could have felt quite at home. Julien wasn't sure quite what he had expected, but it certainly came as a surprise to discover that the Emperor's bedroom here was neither larger nor more impressive than the kang he had been using in Bakhtar Tower. The one major advantage of the Palace bedroom was that it was joined by a small terrace, which in turn was just a few steps away from a pleasure garden which gradually became a park whose far limit was lost in the early morning mist.

The room held no personal items, and there was nothing in it to indicate that it had ever been lived in at all.

"At the time of his disappearance," Subadar explained, "the Emperor wasn't actually living here in the Palace, and in fact he hadn't lived here for quite a long time. He came here when the affairs of the R'hinz demanded his presence, but he spent most of his time living in one or other of his other official residencies."

"Like the lake house at Rüpel Gyamtso?"

"Exactly."

"Do you think I ought to do the same thing?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure. It would certainly be easier if you were to continue to enjoy Lord Aldegard's hospitality and the amenities of Bakhtar Tower, but… I think it's about time that the Palace was brought back to life. It won't be long before you find yourself having to deal with a lot of things, and most of them will need to be dealt with here in the Palace. And it would be no bad thing, given recent events, to demonstrate clearly that the R'hinz is still being administered as it should be. We can do that little by little, bringing in extra staff as we need them."

"All right. Still, don't you think that a ginormous monstrosity like this place is a bit insane? Surely we could manage with something a bit less over-the-top?"

"I'm sure we could. But you have to remember that the Palace was built about seven thousand cycles ago and has been constantly added to and transformed since. Bear in mind that there have been periods in our history when the Empire was exactly that: an Empire that ruled several worlds and needed a centralised government. And, of course, human civilisations do rather go in for exaggeration: the Palace is also a work of art, a place where architects have often been given free rein to try to bring their dreams to life. You'll discover some of those wonders once you've been here for a while. And remember that there was a time when a large part of the Palace was open to the public."

"But not any more?"

"Not for around three hundred cycles now. The Noble Families complained about the cost of maintaining it and running it as a tourist attraction."

By now they had left the private apartments and moved on into a ceremonial gallery lit by a glass roof about fifty metres above a walkway made of semi-precious minerals whose deceptively simple patterns seemed almost to change shape and form as you walked along through the room. It was a huge room, but it was cleverly made to seem less immense by the large number of sculptures that stood here and there on the walkway, their many different styles and materials somehow contributing to a wonderfully harmonious and peaceful whole.

"What is this place?" asked Julien. "Is it a museum?"

"No, this is the reception hall. All guests and visitors to the Palace have to arrive here. Quite a lot of the stones on the walkway are actually klirks. Apart from the private klirks of yourself and your Mirrors, there is no other way to get to the Palace."

"That must have been a huge source of income for the Guides!"

"Indeed. Of course there were regular petitions asking for a normal way in to be built."

"And?"

"The Emperor always said he would have no objection. The problem is that nobody who has tried has ever managed to work out where the Palace is."

"But… it's on Nüngen – in Aleth, in the middle of Palace Square… isn't it?"

"Really?"

"I know it is! That's how I got here, unintentionally, that first time – I started out trying to cross the Square."

"I hate to shatter your illusions, but you have to remember that Palace Square is actually a magnificent collection of klirks. As to exactly where those klirks took you, nobody can guess."

Julien stared at Subadar, who was smiling gently as he saw that Julien was starting to understand.

"You mean… nobody knows where the Palace is?"

"You've got it."

"But… what about the Guides?"

"The Guides just use the klirks."

"But couldn't they try to work out where it really is?"

"You could always try asking them."

Julien felt Wenn Hyaï pressing against him in order to communicate. He placed his hand on the Guide's neck.

Even the Guides don't know where the Palace really is, the Guide told him. A lot of us have tried to find it, of course, but we think its location is hidden by a Neh-Kyong. And Master Subadar knows that too, of course.

"But someone must have known where it is, in the past at least!" said Julien.

"Indeed they did," said Subadar. "Yulmir did – which is to say, you did."

"But of course I can't remember."

I remember, whispered Xarax inside his head. But I think it would be best if I kept that information to myself for the time being.

You're right: if it's such a big secret, it's probably better that I don't get to know about it until I really need to.

Are you finally starting to develop a bit of wisdom? How strange. I've heard it said that with humans wisdom only appears when they get hairy, and as you haven't got a beard yet…

"So you don't remember," said Tannder. "That's probably just as well at the moment. It's the sort of information that could be useful to your enemies."

"These sculptures are nice," said Julien, changing the subject.

"They certainly are," agreed Subadar. "Each one of them is considered to be the greatest work of the greatest artist of his generation. To have a piece on display here is the dream of every true artist. But it's probably over a hundred cycles since the collection was added to."

"Who do they belong to?"

"To you, of course. Each of them was presented to the Emperor."

"Don't you think it's a pity to keep all these wonders stored away here where nobody can ever see them?"

"Well, visitors to the Palace…"

"I think it would be better to put them somewhere where everyone can see them – like in a public park, or along the sides of the Broad Walk in Aleth, for example. I think we should leave a few here – perhaps the most fragile ones – and divide the others up, sending them out to be displayed to the public on any world that was interested."

"It shall be done as you wish, My Lord, but…"

"You don't think we should, do you?"

"I would not dare for one moment to contradict…"

"Subadar, you're no hypocrite, so stop that! Tell me what you think."

"People wouldn't understand. They'd think that you'd rejected these works, and that you don't think them worthy of your Palace any longer. And the countries where their artists were born would see it as a sign of contempt…"

"Oh, all right, then, we'll keep them here. But I'd still like to make it possible for those who are interested to come and see them. In the city where I used to live there was a palace, not as magnificent as this one but still not too shabby, and people could visit it to admire a huge collection of art of various sorts. I spent some fantastic afternoons there, and I think it's what got me interested in travelling. Isn't there anything like that in the R'hinz?"

"Yes, of course. Most Noble Families have a gallery that is open to the public."

"Then the Emperor will have to have a gallery too. All right, where should we go next?"

"If you don't mind I'd like to stop for the day. If you agree I'll give orders to get your private apartments ready for use and arrange for the main parts of the Palace to be staffed once more."

"So we're going home now?"

"Yes. I think there's a klirk… just over there."

They gathered around Wenn Hyaï and were transported to the Orientation Table in an instant.

***

But it wasn't Wenn Hyaï who had taken them there – indeed, Wenn Hyaï would have taken them directly back to the klirk from which they had left Bakhtar Tower. No, this time Julien had pronounced the 'tchokseh' which had hitherto refused to work and which he had now got into the habit of only trying occasionally when there was a Guide with him – he didn't want to find himself making another involuntary journey back to Earth. But this time some instinct had nudged him into trying it again, and for some reason his Guide's Gift had done what it was supposed to do, rather than wafting him off to some remote corner of the universe. Of course, neither Subadar nor Tannder was able to perceive anything in the timeless world of the Table, and for them this moment simply would not exist. Wenn Hyaï and Xarax, on the other hand, were perfectly aware of their location and how they had got there.

Julien! said Wenn Hyaï. Your Gift is back! Congratulations!

I don't think I had a lot to do with it, but I'm happy about it, all the same. At least now you won't have to stick with me from dawn till dusk.

Is my presence such a burden to you? asked Wenn Hyaï, pretending to be hurt.

Julien smiled.

There's no point in trying to get me going, he said. You know perfectly well what I meant. But if you need your ego flattered, let me add that it's always a pleasure to have you with me, Master Guide.

For my part, put in Xarax, I always feel a lot safer when you're with us, and I hope you'll continue to stick around. I don't want to be left to the tender mercies of this clumsy clot.

Don't worry, Master Xarax, said Wenn Hyaï. Now that our friend has recovered his Gift we'll get on with his training as a Guide, although even with a good student like him these things still take time and patience. But for now, let's just get ourselves back to the annex-klirk of Bakhtar Tower.

The move didn't take long to complete: soon Julien and his friends were all resettled into the Emperor's private quarters, in which each of the party was able to choose a room that suited him.

Lord Tahlil had been very specific and very insistent, and as a result Niil found himself in a vast suite, part of which was fitted out to allow a few secretaries and a number of indispensable civil servants to annoy their First Lord at any hour of the day and night with demands for him to deal with urgent business affecting the Ksantiri domains. A room in the suite was set aside for Ambar to use, although it seemed unlikely that the bed-linen would need changing, at least not as long as Julien continued to sleep nearby.

***

Tannder had left Karik to supervise the moving of his quarters, giving the boy strict instructions not to indulge in unnecessary luxury. As an obedient disciple Karik decided that two bedrooms would be a terrible waste of space, and that a single large bed was quite sufficient for two people of normal size. The rest of the kang was left with its original Spartan furniture and decorated, following the advice of Julien who, remembering a trio of unforgettable films that he had seen at the Champollion Theatre, advised Karik to restrict himself to a few sober flower arrangements and three precious sabres from the Palace stores.

***

As for Dennkar, he wanted to be as close to Julien's apartments as possible, and so he was given a kang which shared the terrace and stretch of garden attached to Julien's own rooms.

***

Separating Master Sandeark from his favourite student would have been like separating an angry mother bear from her cub – very unwise. So he was given the privilege of residing in the Palace so that he could maintain what was gradually becoming a collaboration, rather than a traditional master-student relationship. Ambar might have lacked the purely formal tools necessary for the expression of certain mathematical concepts, but he was nonetheless showing a strong tendency to surpass his master, who was no slouch himself, in understanding the subtleties of some very abstruse reasoning.

One indication of the amazing way his mind was developing was that certain Masters of Mathematics among the Guides were perfectly happy to come to offer him instruction, instead of their more usual approach, which was to grant aspiring human mathematicians the favour of an interview on their own world. Of course this was a great honour, but Julien very quickly put some restrictions on it when he saw the effects of this constant intellectual overheating on his friend's health.

"Master Sandeark!" he said. "I didn't entrust Ambar to your care so that he could be devoured by those ghouls! I want you to put together – right now! – a timetable that will allow him plenty of time for rest, and even for him to have fun. If the Honourable Master Guides of the Higher College of Mathematics think they can suck his blood on the pretext of bestowing upon him a little of their knowledge in return, they are sadly mistaken, and you may tell them so from me!"

"Well…"

"And for starters, I hereby decree that he has the next eight days off!"

"But… he has appointme…"

"And the next time he comes to see me looking like death warmed up you're likely to find yourself teaching calculus to the trangtchenn caterpillars of the polar region!!"

***

Julien also offered a place in the Palace to Gradik and Tenntchouk, but they politely declined: they were happy staying with Julien's parents and had been delighted to accept their invitation to stay with them whenever they weren't off sailing their boat. And now they were spending a lot of their time doting on the Ultimate Wonder of the Known World, otherwise known as Gilles, the new-born brother of His Lordship. His Lordship himself was not particularly interested in babies, although he thought that when the howling, tyrannical creature had advanced far enough to crawl on its own he might change his mind. Possibly. Currently he got black looks from the sailors whenever he politely declined the privilege of holding the charming little being.

***

Since he spent almost every moment of his life with Xarax Dillik lived in Julien's kang, in which he had, not a separate room – he'd refused point blank to consider that option – but an alcove which he regularly abandoned early in the morning to benefit from the attention of either Julien or Ambar, or sometimes both. At the very least he was able to enjoy a nice intimate cuddle, something he said he couldn't survive without.

***

The hunt for Dalanni agents was going well, and every day Julien had a pile of sentences to confirm and pardons to grant. Since the art of government is largely about delegating he had decided that the sensible thing to do would be simply to confirm every decision that was submitted for his approval.

The number of Dalanni agents uncovered so far was now close to a thousand, but the number of traitors from the Nine Worlds themselves remained surprisingly small. The way that all probes were cross-checked and repeated if necessary made it fairly clear that they knew almost everything of importance that was available from the people they had taken, but there were three issues that still eluded them: who was the leader of the network; who were the people responsible for the death of Aïn; and, most worrying of all, how, and more importantly by whom, had ghorrs been used.

Apparently Julien's Gift had returned permanently, and so had his ability to display or hide his Marks, and Master Subadar was confident that the Emperor's other abilities would also reveal themselves in due course, if the proper stimulus could be found. Consequently he had started a training program which, he said, would soon convert Julien into a fully functional Warden of the Nine Worlds.

Julien, on the other hand, wasn't all that keen on achieving this glorious destiny. There might have been a moment early on when the thought of wielding such power, way beyond that of most rulers on Earth, was quite attractive, but now he knew that power of that sort was actually a terrible burden that would squash you flat if you weren't able to resist its harmful nature. He thought that the Empire had managed quite nicely without him for fourteen years or so, and it seemed unlikely that everything would grind to a halt now if he took his eye of the ball for a moment. And the activities that Subadar and his colleagues were now trying to prepare him for looked certain to occupy a large percentage of his waking hours.

It was true that they were unerringly polite, and that they stopped to ask after his well-being on a regular basis. They even had the immense generosity to ensure that he wasn't overburdened by their activities. But as far as he could see, the Emperor of the Nine Worlds was actually no more than a luxury employee in the service of masters who were completely implacable because they were working to serve the entire population of the Empire. Nobody would ever actually demand anything of him, but instead they would arrange it so that he would be able to see no alternative to undertaking whatever indispensable task they set before him.

Why was everything his responsibility? Every day Tannder, or Tahlil, or Subadar told him about the problems that beset the R'hinz, and every day he did his best to learn, to train, and to try to use adult reasoning to understand the point of view of other people so as to moderate the excesses of implacable defenders of the honour of one clan or another, all of whom seemed willing to slaughter each other at the slightest provocation.

They would tell him that this was just a temporary situation, and that the only conflicts they were telling him about were long-standing ones which had remained unresolved over a long period. But the longer it went on, the more he felt that Xarax was probably the only person who cared how he felt. Of course, that wasn't true. He knew that his friends wanted to make him happy and so they always tried to be in a good mood whenever they were together, but they couldn't do anything about the pressure of his duties. And of course Niil was in a similar situation himself.

Xarax was doing all he could to help Julien learn – or, rather, as Subadar put it, to recall techniques and knowledge that were as strange as they were essential. At the same time the haptir was slowly recovering his ability to fly, and in general was starting to become more like his old self. Dillik was of course delighted by this. The two of them had a relationship which was becoming closer and closer, and now they dreamed together almost every night. Julien was almost expecting to see Dillik starting to grow wings.

***

I need you.

Xarax, you might not have noticed, but it's the middle of the night! said Julien.

That's perfect. Nobody will wonder where you've gone.

And where do you want to take me?

I want you to take me somewhere.

All right, then: where do you want to go?

To the Palace.

So why can't it be done during the day?

I want to go to a place that nobody can know about except you and me. I don't want Tannder or Subadar to start asking questions.

I see. I suppose that if you didn't need a Guide you'd go on your own.

No. Once, maybe – I don't really know. But not any more. I don't know yet what we're going to find, but I want us to find it together.

If Ambar wakes up and finds me gone he'll turn the place upside down looking for me.

I can make sure that he doesn't wake up for four tchoutsö or so. I've already done that for Dillik. That will give us more than enough time.

All right. I'll put an abba on and then we can go.

I'll deal with Ambar, then.

In the twilight of the large sitting room Xarax climbed up onto Julien's shoulders.

I'll show you the klirk, he said, and he showed Julien a pattern far more complicated than any klirk Julien had seen before. This klirk wasn't simply a two-dimensional drawing, but a kind of large calligraphic structure in subtly varying colours. To be able to memorise something like that was a tremendous feat.

And when Julien applied the 'mental push' that triggered the jump he felt a resistance – it was like pushing against an elastic membrane which only gave way gradually, and which consequently made the transition perceptible, instead of it being instantaneous as was usually the case with jumps.

They found themselves in what looked like a crypt – a large one, with lamps fixed at regular intervals along the walls that grew steadily brighter with a glow like that of kerosene lamps. There seemed to be no klirk below Julien's feet, which made it clear that this was not a place that was intended to be visited by ordinary Guides. The floor was made of some milky translucent stone similar to moonstone, polished to perfection and which helped to diffuse the light so that no corner of the room remained in shadow. The room was square, about twenty metres wide and with a grey-green ceiling about four metres above the floor. The walls were panelled in precious light red wood, the carefully assembled veins of which formed elegant abstract patterns. The absence of any opening in the walls confirmed Julien's impression that they were somewhere in the depths of the Palace, and his first thought was that a sarcophagus would look completely at home here. However, the room was completely empty, and it looked as if no grain of dust had ever settled on the immaculate floor.

There's nothing here, he said. I hope I can get us out again.

Don't be in such a hurry.

All right. Tell me what you want me to do.

Move to the wall in front of you.

Julien walked a few steps.

"We're not moving!" he said aloud, his voice sounding strangely flat and without echo.

Strange, isn't it? commented Xarax.

You knew! You could have told me!

It was easier to let you find out for yourself.

Can you explain now?

You disappoint me. Use what passes for your brain for a moment.

Listen, if you keep waking me up in the middle of the night to ask me riddles, I suspect you and I won't stay friends much longer!

Stop trying to look grumpy. It doesn't suit you at all. Just think!

After a few seconds Julien realised what Xarax was driving at.

"The Narthex!" he exclaimed. "I was wondering where I'd heard my voice sounding dead like that before. It was in the Narthex!"

The Narthex was the room outside normal space where Julien had done much of his training under the supervision of Master Subadar.

Right, but we're not in the Narthex, said Xarax. Still, this place was built along the same lines. The main difference is that, unlike the Narthex, this place actually exists in normal space, more or less. Its existence depends on a crystal buried somewhere in the foundations of the Palace, and that means that you can't change this place to look the way you want it to, like you did with the Narthex.

You mean it's always going to look exactly like this? Don't you think it's going to get boring just standing in the middle of an empty room like this?

I mean that the reality of this place obeys certain strict rules that you cannot change. This place was built to keep certain objects and information safe.

So it's a bit like a safe in a bank?

If you like.

And you're the one who keeps its key.

Julien was aware that Xarax hesitated before answering.

Actually, he said, you possess it too. If you look carefully you'll find that you can visualise that klirk without any help from me.

That seems to bother you.

Julien, you're not supposed to be able to do that! Whether you want to or not.

I don't understand, Xarax. What's happening?

What's happening is that I'm just starting to realise that I've been fooled.

Fooled? Who by? Not by me, that's for sure! I didn't even know that this place existed!

That's true, but Yulmir… Yulmir knows.

So what? What difference does that make?

Julien, you ARE Yulmir!

But I haven't done anything! You know I'd never try to fool you – you're my friend! And in any case, how do you know I've got this key you're talking about?

When you told me that I was the keeper of the key to this room you thought about the klirk and its image appeared, just for a fraction of a second, in your head. Not even Yulmir should have been able to do that, unless he already possessed it. He was supposed to be able to get here only with the help of his haptir.

Well, all right, but what's so terrible?

Julien, I should kill you!

What?! But why?!

Because that's part of the reason I exist.

Xarax!

Right now I'm having to struggle like mad not to do it.

Julien was horrified to realise that Xarax could easily slit his throat before he even began to react.

You must take me to Dvârinn, said Xarax. Now, right away! Then you must go back to your room in the Palace. Once there's no more danger I'll contact Niil so that he can get me back to you. Now – hurry!

There was no time to argue. Julien went to the Orientation Table, and from there he jumped to the klirk which marked the place where he had first appeared on Dvârinn, close to the now-vanished city of Tchenn Ril. It was early morning, and the freezing mist added a sinister touch to an already depressing situation.

Xarax, he said, I don't really know what's going on – but thank you. Come back to me as soon as you can. Dillik's going to miss you, too.

I know. Invent some tale to reassure him. Now go!

Julien visualised the klirk that led to his own apartments, realising that he owed Wenn Hyaï a very large 'thank you' for forcing him to memorise that particular klirk which, of course, was not to be found on the Orientation Table.

"Isn't Xarax with you?" asked Dillik.

"Good morning to you too, Dillik! Come and settle in here between us and let me go back to sleep."

"All right. Don't you know where Xarax is, then?"

"He's off on a mission."

"A mission? What mission? He never told me about any mission!"

"It's a secret mission. That's why he didn't tell you."

"Well, all right, but he could have told me he was going away! I woke up and found that he wasn't there, and I don't like waking up alone."

"Don't blame him. It was just something that came up this evening. Anyway, you were asleep when we left and he didn't want to wake you."

"Well, he should have!"

"Hey, what are you two talking about?" said Ambar, sleepily. "Has Xarax gone?"

"Go back to sleep, Ambar. I need some rest."

"So that means I have to sleep on your behalf? Perhaps you'd like me to pee for you, too?"

"That's not what I meant at all. And Dillik, keep your hands to yourself, because I'm not in the mood. I really do need some sleep. Cuddle up with Ambar instead."

"Aren't you well?"

"No, I just got woken up in the middle of the night, that's all."

"What? They woke you up? I didn't hear anything. What's going on?"

"Ambar, please," said Julien. "Don't you start too. Just have a nice quiet cuddle with Dillik and then go back to sleep. And don't tell anyone about me getting up in the night. It's a secret."

***

He was able to sleep in for a long time and once he had a nice big breakfast inside him Julien felt rather more ready to deal with the previous night's events. Fortunately nobody had come in to disturb him, as sometimes happened if something urgent came up during the night. He decided to take charge and answer everyone's questions before they could even be asked.

"Xarax had to leave during the night," he said. "It was something that came up suddenly and it had to be dealt with. You don't need to worry, but I want you to keep this to yourselves, all right? If anyone asks where he is, just say that you don't know. And if anyone tries to push you for an answer, come and tell me straight away."

"What if it's Tannder or Subadar?"

"You don't talk to anyone – not even each other. All right?"

"When's he coming back?" asked Dillik.

"I don't know exactly, but I don't think it will be too long."

"And then will you tell us what happened?"

"Dillik, it's a secret, and that means it's secret from everyone."

"But…"

"I know. You, Ambar and Niil, you're different from the others. But there are some things I can't share even with you. And now I'd like us to talk about something else, all right?"

***

Days went by, days in which nobody dared to question him about his friend's absence now that he'd made it known that he didn't want to talk about it. One good thing about his status as Emperor was that he could at least impose his will if he thought it necessary, although he was very much aware that this was a power to be used very sparingly.

Dillik tried to put a good face on it even though he was clearly worried, and when on the second evening Julien found him crying alone in his bed he invited him to share a common bed with himself and Ambar until Xarax returned.

Niil had been made aware of the situation and had decided to stay in Ksantir, where Xarax would be able to find him easily. He even accepted the fact that Julien wasn't able to explain exactly what was happening: he said that as far as he was concerned he was happy to do whatever his friend needed.

Of course it was impossible for Julien not to speculate about what Xarax was doing and why, but he didn't have enough information to come up with any answers. The only thing that seemed clear was that Xarax was keeping his distance so as not to kill him – and what made it even more shocking was that killing the Emperor in certain circumstances was apparently one of the haptir's primary duties! It was a wonder that Xarax had managed to overcome what was normally a rigid sense of duty…

***

Finally, on the eleventh day, Xarax returned, his arrival coinciding with that of the evening meal. He was lacking in colour and clearly exhausted, but he still appeared more or less his usual self. He arrived sitting on Niil's shoulder but quickly jumped, first onto that of a delighted Dillik, and then on to Julien.

Xarax, my friend, Julien told him, you look shattered. We'd better go to the bathroom so that I can feed you, and then you look like you need some sleep. You can tell me all about it once you're fully recovered.

All right. I am feeling tired, to be honest.

"I'm going to feed Xarax," said Julien, getting up.

"I'm coming too!" declared Dillik, adding, as he saw that Julien was about to argue, "I know how it works, so I'm not going to faint or anything."

Julien got undressed and then stood naked in the shower room, holding a sponge bag which would give Xarax the signal to stop, and offered his neck to the haptir. He had time to reflect that if Xarax hadn't managed to solve the problem that had sent him into temporary exile this was likely to be his final moment alive. And then the process began: the teeth puncturing his flesh, followed by the slightly nauseous feeling that he was about to pass out, and then the sudden powerful growth of excitement which, on this occasion, ended with a violent orgasm strong enough to make him lean on Dillik for support. Dillik was both surprised and amused, especially when his laï got a copious spraying in the process.

"Wow!" he commented. "It looks like you're really happy to have Xarax back!"

"Go and put him to bed, and change your laï while you're at it. I'm going to have a shower."

"Still, you might have warned me…"

"I'm sorry. It's not like I did it deliberately."

"It's a pity to waste it, that's all."

***

Xarax wasn't a particularly good story-teller, but he did have a talent for making you share what he had experienced, and that's what he did for Julien the following morning. The moment he had seen the klirk in Julien's mind, clear and exact in every detail, something inside him had changed. Switching instantly into that state of combat readiness in which the outside world seems frozen in time he was suddenly filled with a certainty: his duty, indeed, his entire raison d'être, was to prevent such a deviation from the Unchangeable Order of things. As suddenly as a foul stench can trigger nausea, the sight of that perfect klirk in the Emperor's mind filled him with disgust, like some vile, corrupt matter. He was the Emperor's Haptir, the one whose duty was to defend the universe of the Nine Worlds from such abominations, and it was his duty to end it, immediately, as the Emperor's Haptirs had always done throughout the long history of the R'hinz, whenever this situation had arisen. The Emperor had to die so that his mind, reduced to its basic essence and purged of all aberrations, could manifest itself in a new body and so go on preserving the integrity of the Nine Worlds.

However, this wasn't a conscious train of thought but, rather, a deep, irresistible impulse, which drove him along just as the soaring of pleasure, for Dillik, led inexorably towards an unstoppable orgasm when the trigger point had been reached…

Dillik!

It wasn't the Emperor Yulmir that Xarax was about to kill, it was Dillik's friend Julien – who was also Xarax's own friend…

But Julien was also Yulmir…

Despite his confusion Xarax somehow regained control of his actions. He realised that he should not act without further information. Fighting a conditioning that had been written into him at a genetic level he emerged from his trance and forced himself to answer Julien's suggestion that he, Xarax, was in possession of the key to that 'safe', which was in reality the Sang kang, the Secret Chamber.

Actually, he had said, you possess it too. If you look carefully you'll find that you can visualise that klirk without any help from me.

The conversation rolled on in its inevitable way. Xarax realised that he had to stay as far away from Julien as possible: he knew that it would only take a moment's distraction for the impulse to kill to seize control of him again, and it was impossible to think clearly in that situation.

The last few seconds with Julien had been extremely difficult, and Xarax still found it hard to understand how he had managed to allow the boy to remain alive despite the monstrous hunger that was raging through him, commanding him to attack with teeth and claws, to tear the boy's delicate flesh to ribbons and to slake a raging thirst which had always been there, lurking at the very centre of his being, and of whose presence he had been unaware until that moment.

When Julien had disappeared at last, leaving him in the cold mist of Dvârinn, he didn't feel relief but, rather, a terrible frustration. If he had had the power to do so he would have immediately launched himself after the prey which he had just allowed to escape. But Xarax was no Guide and so Julien was now out of reach – which was, of course, exactly what Xarax had wanted. But this didn't diminish his rage. Despite his relatively modest size a haptir is equipped with claws that are almost as sharp as a nagtri, and although the surrounding vegetation was prickly and tough it really didn't offer much resistance. But some of the nearby rocks now bore scars that would last for thousands of years.

Eventually the crisis passed and Xarax, drained of a lot of his energy, was able to think clearly again. He knew that what had just happened was probably unprecedented in the history of the R'hinz. There could be no doubt that in the past a number of Emperors had died with their throat cut by their haptir. He was fairly sure that he would have been unable to resist the impulse to do just that if his basic haptir nature had not been so radically changed by the strange relationship he had with Dillik.

He was also terribly shocked to discover that he had been conditioned in such a way without having had the least inkling of it. His relief at having overcome it was mingled with a measure of legitimate pride. Nor did he feel any guilt: he had certainly failed in his Duty, but if that duty meant that he had to destroy someone he loved without having any say in the matter, he was sure that such a duty must be evil.

The following few days had been terrible. Although he was completely convinced and was sure that his reasoning was correct, the conditioning continued to work at the very core of his being, demanding that he should commit a murder which his conscious mind had utterly rejected. From time to time, usually when he was least expecting it, he was again seized by a murderous insanity that drove him to destroy everything around him in a paroxysm of frustrated rage.

But Xarax wasn't an ordinary creature driven by instinct: he was a highly intelligent, cultured and sophisticated being. Furthermore, he possessed an unshakable will and had acquired, over a long existence, immense experience in dealing with the art of training both his body and his mind.

When he realised that it would not be possible to uproot his conditioning he first contemplated putting an end to his life. An honourable suicide would be a good way to bring a long, experience-filled life to a close. But, quite apart from the fact that he was loath to cause Dillik what would certainly be great pain, he was convinced that as soon as the Council of Mirrors found out that the Emperor had lost his haptir they would insist on 'presenting' him with a new one. And that new substitute would also be conditioned, and that conditioning would encounter no resistance. So Julien would die, and he was fairly sure that a system that had already lasted thousands of years would find a way, fairly easily, to generate a new body for the Emperor.

So he decided that suicide wasn't the answer, at least not until he'd had plenty of opportunity to teach Julien how to deal with the many dangers that threatened him, and also to offer Dillik some advise on living without 'his' haptir.

In order to do that he decided to look upon his conditioning like a loaded weapon that had no safety catch. To stop it from self-triggering he developed an underlying reflex function of constant awareness, rather like the one which controls a human sphincter and so prevents untimely excretion. In other words, he managed to hold his impulse to murder in check in the same manner in which a person manages not to wet the bed or soil his underwear in public. For anyone else this would have taken a considerable period of time, but Xarax was determined, and it only took him eight days to master the process.

Once he was satisfied with the result he went, exhausted but profoundly happy, to Niil and asked him to take him back to the Palace. And now that he was back they would have to try to untangle the threads of a story which was looking more and more complicated.

Julien was badly shaken by Xarax's sinister discovery, and he found it even harder to deal with because there was nobody he could talk to about it: he thought it would be positively dangerous to raise the subject with any of his advisers. But even so, questions were clearly in the air, even though so far they remained unspoken. The return of the haptir had not passed unnoticed, and while it had certainly made Dillik very happy, it had also raised questions in the minds of Subadar, Tannder and the rest of the Emperor's circle of advisers.

Ambar, however, seemed happy not to refer to the haptir's absence at all. He had long ago decided that anything Julien chose not to tell him probably wasn't worth worrying about, and while he might had had his suspicions that this incident was less trivial than some, he stuck to his rule and refrained from bothering his friend by asking about it.

When the Head of the Circle of Health Masters came to him, accompanied by Subadar, to respectfully suggest to His Lordship that perhaps it was time to think about 'producing a series of Sleeping Bodies to replace those that had apparently had their vital processes interrupted' Julien didn't bother asking the elderly biologist how he knew about that 'interruption' – instead he simply gave his consent and graciously allowed them to draw the phial of blood they needed to get the process under way. He didn't actually like the thought of one day being confronted with clones of himself floating in anentropic stasis bubbles, but he didn't think he could really refuse without raising suspicions that would make things more difficult for him.

By now his perception of the R'hinz had changed. Until recently he had managed to retain the illusion that the Emperor was the central element in a largely benevolent organisation, but now that illusion had been shattered. He realised now that it was not just the enemy who saw him as a target: the very people who had invested him with his powers and his mission could just as easily turn against him if they thought it best. And it seemed certain to him that those who had originally devised such an efficient, and merciless, system would not have trusted to luck to ensure its survival over so many millennia. Somewhere out there was someone who knew the whole scheme and who would have taken steps to ensure that nothing could happen to interfere with the smooth running of the mechanism.

He knew that it wouldn't be easy to discover who that person was, but he was determined to explore the Sang Kang with Xarax's help so that he could make use of the resources he was sure he would find there. But in order to be able to do that he had to remain free to move about as he wished, and he also had to be sure that nobody else would find out how he intended using what little amount of free time he still had. The best way to achieve that would be to cooperate enthusiastically with those who thought they knew better than he did what he ought to be doing, while preserving, on the pretext of needing times of rest and entertainment, periods when nobody would be surprised if he wasn't out and about. He had to do it that way because he knew that he was going to need his sleep, and that ruled out a series of nocturnal expeditions to the Sang Kang.

They hadn't been back there since Xarax's return. The haptir wanted to be sure that he had himself under complete control first, whatever the circumstances, because he was sure that if the same thing happened on future visits as had happened on the first one, Julien would be certain to die. Furthermore, although Xarax said it was impossible, Julien thought it quite conceivable that their first visit might have triggered an alarm, thus warning precisely the people he wanted to keep in the dark. The haptir assured him that no such device could operate from a place which didn't exist in the 'real' universe, but by now Julien had become very suspicious.

***

Wenn Hyaï was pleasantly surprised by Julien's increasing enthusiasm for everything connected with the Art of the Guides. His student was already very gifted by nature, and he was now trying to master the extremely delicate techniques needed to navigate outside any system of markers. Not only was that practice quite rare – only a few Master Guides were capable of using it – but it was also potentially deadly. It had taken the Guides hundreds of generations before they had developed the techniques that allowed them to start exploring the cosmos, and there had never at any one time been more than a handful of individuals who were able to practise them without much danger. Wenn Hyaï was one such, and Julien was striving to become another.

The key to success, as with just about everything connected to the Art of the Guides, was the ability to achieve a state of perfect mental balance. But now it was also necessary to develop an acuity of perception capable of seeing minute and specific differences within a state of chaos in which ordinary senses were useless and which language was incapable of describing.

Alone, Julien was very good at it, but when Xarax was with him, supporting him with all his strength and lending him stability, the way a large keel offers stability to a sailing boat, they formed a combination whose ability was soon up there with the greatest of the Master Guides. Wenn Hyaï was delighted and said that he was completely satisfied with their progress, but Xarax wanted to go further: he was determined that Julien should be able to accomplish alone, if not quite everything that the two of them could achieve working together, then at least as much as a true Master Guide was able to do.

***

Meanwhile Tannder and Dennkar had doggedly pursued their enquiries and had finally run to earth the last surviving member of the team that had tried to abduct Julien in Denntar Park. Through deep probing of the man they discovered that he belonged to an organisation whose aim was to 'free Dvârinn from the intolerable burden of Imperial oppression' and aimed to 're-establish government by the free will of the people.' The four other members of his 'action group' had recently died in suspicious circumstances, which looked (so Dennkar said) suspiciously like an operation to eliminate embarrassing witnesses carried out by whoever was pulling their strings. The only other useful information was that the weapons they had used were undoubtedly projectile weapons supplied by the Dalannis.

***

In order to relieve the tension of a life otherwise dominated by work and studying Julien arranged a series of little expeditions aboard the Isabelle. Only the 'boys' were invited, though this did include Karik, who was still considered a member despite his special position with Tannder. Of course the two sailors who owned the vessel were also present, and they were delighted to be able to pass on their know-how to the boys. They were proud that Julien, who was the only one who really appreciated what it takes to sail a boat, frequently praised them for it.

Niil never missed one of these occasions, thanks largely to the enthusiastic support of Lord Tahlil, who felt that there was no better way for a First Lord in a maritime nation to develop his education.

The rule on board the Isabelle was that Gradik and Tenntchouk were considered to be passengers, and their only job was to offer advice. And although they sometimes succumbed to the desire to help out when the sea became particularly rough, for the most part they were happy just to keep an eye on things and to ensure that no accidents took place. They were also happy to accept Xarax's offer to help them to learn deep-ocean navigation, helped by Ambar's mathematical abilities. Ambar was delighted to help: despite having been elevated to the rank of Noble Brother and being recognised as some sort of mathematical Wunderkind, he remained the same kind, gentle boy from the quays of Aleth who recognised the two sailors as being of his own people.

Finally the day came when Xarax judged that it would be safe for them to return to the Sang Kang. He didn't want Julien to get any more surprises, and so he had briefed him thoroughly about everything he knew about the place. So when they found themselves in the empty vault once more Julien didn't even try to move. Instead he thought about an opening in the wall ahead of him. And immediately an opening appeared, leading to a corridor beyond and looking as if it had always been there.

Now walk forward, said Xarax.

This time Julien found that he could walk normally across the room and into the corridor. What made it more impressive still was the fact that everything appeared perfectly normal: for example, his sandals were making the expected sound on the floor. The wood that panelled the corridor might have looked very expensive, but it still looked like wood and had clearly come from real trees. No matter how closely you looked, the grain of the wood was nothing more than the grain of any other wood, and it had the minute imperfections of all natural things.

A few steps into the corridor he thought about doors, and doors promptly appeared at regular intervals on both sides of the passage. The passage itself ran on for fifty metres or so before coming to a stop or making a right-angled turn to left or right – it wasn't clear which from this distance.

Think about secret records, suggested Xarax

Nothing happened.

That should have opened a door. All right, try thinking about a map of the Palace.

At once a door to his right opened a little with a click. Julien pushed it further open and went through, and he found himself in a room far larger than had been suggested by the space between doors in the corridor outside. It was difficult to get a true idea of the scale of the place, but it appeared almost as large as the Ocean Rotunda – and, like that other great space, this was also in the shape of a hemisphere. But this one was of a deep midnight blue and depicted a firmament of such realism that by comparison the greatest planetarium on Earth looked like a primitive toy. Once he had taken a few steps across the sand-covered ground the illusion became so perfect that it was almost impossible not to think that he was standing outdoors once more, under the starry sky of a moonless night. But the sky was not the true wonder of this room.

Suspended in the centre of the hall was a Palace of light. Julien had visited the 'Discovery Palace' in Paris and had seen a few experimental holograms, and despite their poor quality he had found those objects that apparently floated in the air fascinating. But what he was looking at now was on a completely different level.

First of all, the detail was incredibly sharp, and you could get as close as you wanted without losing that sharpness. Furthermore, the image was either opaque or transparent, as Julien willed: if he wanted to see inside the building it immediately presented itself to give the best possible view. And while the colour of the materials was entirely realistic he found that it could also take on other colours, offering a dominant blue, green, orange or silver. Xarax explained that this was so that Julien could tell straight away, whenever it was necessary to understand what he was looking at, on which world the section under inspection was located. Because the Palace was actually divided between the four human worlds, with parts of it on Nüngen, Dvârinn, Yrcandia and Der Mang. And on each of these worlds the parts of the Palace were scattered far and wide. Next to the main image were four spheres representing the four planets, and on these you could see the exact location of each section of the Palace. Julien was amused to notice that the great Palace Square of Aleth didn't actually contain so much as a broom cupboard.

He could have spent hours simply contemplating these wonders. He recognised that an incredibly advanced technology must be behind them, a technology of which every trace had been erased outside in the Nine Worlds but which still flourished in this place. He was sure that what he had seen so far was only a tiny fraction of what remained to be discovered. But he had made this journey for a reason and so could not afford to linger. He thought about a way out of the room and a lightly glowing path appeared on the sand and led him back to the door.

Once they were back in the corridor Xarax spoke to him.

I don't think you'll be able to access the secret doors while I'm with you, he said. If Yulmir did hold the klirk for this place it can only be because he wanted to be able to come here without his haptir. We have to find out why.

You could just wait in the corridor.

We can try, but I don't think that will work.

And, indeed, even when Xarax returned to the square vault no secret door would open, no matter how much Julien willed them to.

You'll have to take me back to the Palace and return here on your own, said Xarax.

Um… I'm not sure that I like that idea much.

Maybe not, but I think it's the only way.

But we don't even know if there's anything here to be discovered!

Are you scared?

Yes, I'm scared.

Good. At least that proves that you're starting to understand the predicament we're in. Still, if anything happens that you don't like you can always jump. You're a proper Guide now.

Oh, thanks, that makes me feel much better!

Well, you don't have a lot of options. If we can't find out what's really going on I think you're going to find yourself in deep trouble sooner or later.

Oh, right! Of course so far my life has been a bed of roses! It's not like you were about to do me in, or anything…

So are we going to do this, or what? I think you should take me back to the Palace.

So Julien did that. Once he was back in his kang he let Xarax slide from his shoulders and, before he could start to have second thoughts, he visualised the klirk that would take him back to the Sang Kang and gave the familiar little push.

***

Standing in what he now thought of as an entry airlock, Julien hesitated. He wasn't actually all that keen on trying to explore this place on his own: he was sure there would be traps everywhere. Xarax might have told him that he was the legitimate owner of this place, but that didn't stop him from feeling like an intruder. He was also now aware of the basic human truth that it's much easier to be brave when you have a friend with you – in fact at that moment even having Dillik alongside him would have made him feel better. Still, he really couldn't imagine running back to Xarax and telling him that he had chickened out, and so he took a deep breath and imagined the corridor stretching away in front of him.

For a few seconds this actually felt worse: no matter how irrational it might have been, he began to imagine someone, or something, emerging from those doors like a monster erupting from a closet, and the feeling got steadily worse. He was already pulling an image of the klirk for his usual quarters from his memory when he pulled himself together. He realised that this feeling of fear was quite possibly a defensive mechanism produced by the Sang Kang. Hitherto he had been protected by the soothing presence of Xarax, but it was perfectly possible that the technology that had produced the wondrous image of the Palace could also engender feelings of panic in an unprotected mind. Or just possibly some element of cowardice deep within himself had chosen this moment, when there were no witnesses, to manifest itself.

He took another deep breath and thought about secrets, secrets meant for nobody but himself, and he wasn't too surprised to hear the click of another door opening.

In one way he would have preferred it if nothing had happened, because then he could have gone back to Xarax and continued his exploration with the haptir on his shoulder. But now he knew that he had to continue on his own.

Reluctantly he approached the door and pushed it open, revealing a room not so very different from one of the sitting rooms in his suite at the Palace. It had the same sober style of decoration, the same simple style of furniture – in this case two low seats and a table – the same lack of ornaments on the light-grey walls, and the same wide bay window opposite the door that seemed to look out over what looked like a small garden. The only unusual note was struck by a Territories board on the table that had its men and other figures arranged around its edges.

The obvious thing to do seemed to be to try sitting down, and then, if nothing happened, to try taking a walk in the garden. So with some trepidation he sat in the chair on the Blue Camp side of the board.

Almost immediately a middle-aged man appeared on the opposite chair. He was wearing the fuchsia and gold-trimmed abba and the white Marks of someone attached to the Imperial House. Julien recognised immediately that he was looking at a hologram, but all the same he would have got up and sprinted away if he hadn't been paralysed by an insurmountable fear.

"Welcome, My Lord," said the man. "Fifteen cycles, three ninths, eighteen days and five tchoutsö have passed since you last honoured this place with your presence."

In fact Julien found the apparition's calm voice strangely soothing, and probably it saved him from wetting the cushion of his chair. Finally he began to make use of the mental control techniques which he had studied for so long but so far shamefully neglected, and when he felt fully in control of himself he said, "Please would you be kind enough to tell me who you are."

"I am the interface of your Sang Kang in human form."

"And could you tell me who I am?"

"You are Yulmir, Warden of the Nine Worlds."

"Are you absolutely sure about that?"

"Your physical appearance has changed and the analysis of your voice indicates a significant change to your self-consciousness, but you are undoubtedly Yulmir. May I remind Your Lordship that, were you not Yulmir, you would have been unable to come to this place."

"Right. Do you have a name?"

"My appearance and personality are copied from those of Yangdehar of Dahldreng. You used to call me Yang."

"Thank you. Do you think you could talk to me equally simply, without using honorifics?"

"Of course, My Lord, if that is what you wish."

"It is. Now, I've been through quite a lot since I got here and I need some explanations."

"I am entirely at your disposal."

"To start with, I have absolutely no memory of my life as Yulmir."

"Could you explain that?"

"Well, I was born on a world that doesn't belong to the R'hinz."

"You mean Earth, I think."

"You know about Earth?!"

"My sensors have never reached it but I have a number of printed books about it which describe it in considerable detail."

"You mean that I brought books here?"

"Yes."

"Can I see them?"

"Yes, but to do so you would need to go to the physical library."

"All right, that can wait. Can you tell me why I was unable to get here with Xarax?"

"Your haptir is conditioned to stop you from straying too far from a set pattern of behaviour. The things you would be able to find here would force him to take extreme measures against you."

"He'd try to kill me, you mean."

"No. He would not simply try, he would kill you. You have no sure way of protecting yourself from your haptir."

"I think you'll find he's changed."

"That seems extremely improbable."

"Well, the first time I came here he was with me and he saw that I already possessed the klirk to the Sang Kang. He did almost kill me, but he managed to stop himself."

"In that case he has changed considerably. I lack the information to understand how."

Julien thought it unlikely that the machine, or whatever was hiding behind the hologram, would be programmed to understand Xarax's deep and intimate relationship with Dillik.

"I'd like him to come here with me," he said. "I suppose that is possible?"

"In theory it is certainly possible. But all the information I possess suggests that it would be extremely unwise."

"Could you tell me why? After all, Xarax is my friend and he has always been loyal. And without him I wouldn't even know that this place exists."

"There is a strong possibility that the help he gave you to find this place was motivated by a desire to see it for himself, because he has never been here before. If he is allowed to come here with you you will lose the last place where you can come to escape his vigilance."

"You're saying that if he could come here it would be impossible for me to plot anything behind his back?"

"Yes."

"You mean, I've already plotted behind his back in the past?"

"Yes."

"I wonder how I could hide anything from someone who can wander about inside my head the way he can wander through my living quarters."

"Make no mistake: he is far from having complete access to your mental universe. There are ways to keep part of your consciousness walled away from his inquisitiveness. I could teach you how to do that."

"I'm sure he would notice."

"You can be sure he wouldn't. You've already done it, in fact."

Julien really didn't like the way this conversation was going. He had to make a difficult decision, and nobody likes having to choose between his own safety and the trust of a friend.

"Right," he said. "Well, now I'm going to go back to Xarax and tell him how he can come here with me. I know you think that's a bad idea, but as far as I know this is still my house and I have the right to do whatever I think is best."

"Absolutely. And you don't need my agreement, either. My duty is simply to give you information, not to force you to accept advice."

***

Xarax, my friend, said Julien, I'm going to have to trust you. According to him, the probability is that you're not going to like it, but the man is only a machine, after all, and he doesn't know you like I do. He even suggested that you'd only helped me so far in order to steal my secrets. Can you imagine that?!

You ought to listen to your machine, replied Xarax. It's a perfectly logical chain of reasoning, and you should have followed its advice instead of coming and telling me everything.

You know I'm not like that. You could have killed me, but you didn't. I'm in no hurry to die, but nor do I want to live in a world where I can't trust you, the one who knows me best. And if it ever comes to the point where you have to… well, you know… all I ask is that you make it quick.

Julien, I've already had to choose between your life and my duty once, and I chose your life. I'm fully prepared to do the same thing again.

Good. In that case it's settled: I'm taking you with me to the Sang Kang and you can help me find the right questions to ask.

***

"I see that Master Xarax's body had to be repaired."

"Indeed," said Julien. "He was shot not too long ago. But he says we're not here to chat about irrelevancies. He wants to know if you have an idea about the way he was conditioned to kill me."

"You don't have to repeat his thoughts. I receive them at the same time as you do. And I think I know how the haptirs are conditioned."

"Then could you explain it for us?"

"Certainly. As you know, when the egg of the new Emperor's Haptir hatches he receives a few drops of your blood enriched with Yel. He is then placed in a nest which provides him with ideal conditions to develop. That nest also plants in his head, by induction, a certain amount of knowledge and abilities that are indispensable for the performance of his duties as adjunct to the Emperor. It seems highly probable that, in addition to the data we know about, a number of encrypted instructions are also planted at a deep level that is inaccessible to the subject."

"So who supplied him with that data?"

"The same people who established the whole process that was designed to perpetuate the Imperial system: you and the Circle of Founding Sages."

"And Yulmir has no memory of this?"

"The memory of the process was wiped from his mind, on his own orders."

"What?! But that's insane!"

"On the contrary, it's perfectly logical. The Founding Circle wanted Yulmir to preserve a way of organising the R'hinz that had proved its worth, and they wanted it to continue regardless of any unforeseeable changes that might occur in the future. He had to remain the kingpin of the system and remain free from anything that might deviate him from his task. It was essential that he should be unable to change the system, even if he wanted to. He was – and indeed he still is – wielding so much power that he could have become the most dangerous tyrant in the Known Universe. And so he was provided with the Emperor's Haptir. Not only is the haptir indispensable for the performing of a number of the Emperor's essential functions, but he is also an incorruptible secret guarantee against the Emperor falling into error. And for that to work Yulmir could have no access to his haptir's conditioning – indeed, he had not to know that the conditioning even existed."

"Well, that plan has failed."

"Perhaps. But so far it's lasted nine thousand, eight hundred and sixty-three cycles."

"Woah!"

"Indeed. However, a little more than one thousand, eight hundred cycles ago, when Yulmir had voluntarily retired from governing the Empire after being told in no uncertain terms to stop meddling in the affairs of the R'hinz, and consequently while civilisation was starting to regress into chaos, he started exploring the unknown universe. It was something he did purely for the pleasure of practising the Art of the Guides, which of course he had mastered long ago. And in the process of exploring he got incredibly lucky and discovered a new world – your world, in fact. Naturally he left a target-klirk there and started visiting Earth on a regular basis. He even stayed there for periods of several years, consequently leaving the Nine Worlds to look after their own affairs free from the 'yoke of his tyranny' for quite long periods."

"Niil told me a bit about that. It didn't work out too well, did it?"

"It took about three hundred cycles to repair the damage, and some things had been destroyed for ever."

"Couldn't he have returned sooner?"

"Perhaps, but generally people seem to want to persevere with their mistakes right through to the bitter end. There's nothing to be gained by trying to force them into the paths of reason, and in fact if you try, quite often the fact that you're acting in their interests actually has the opposite effect from what you intended. Anyway, a lesson was – eventually – learned."

"So when did Yulmir find out about Xarax's conditioning?"

"Quite recently. Indeed, it was only in the time of your predecessor, Master Xarax, that Yulmir finally realised what was going on."

And he never told me, commented Xarax.

"He was afraid he'd have to fight to defend himself, and he felt affection for you."

I loved him too, in my way.

"He had to hide many things from you, even though it would have been much easier for him with your cooperation."

"Are you going to tell us what he was hiding?" asked Julien.

"You're in charge. I'll tell you everything I know – provided that Master Xarax thinks he can control his urge to violence…"

Don't worry about my violence. I'll deal with it.

"Well, in simple terms, for quite a long time Yulmir had wanted to die."

"What?!!"

"If you think about it for a bit you'll realise it isn't really all that surprising."

"But… he could die!"

"That depends on your definition. If by 'dying' you means seeing your body stop functioning, then, yes, he could die. But only for him to live again in a brand new body like the one he had just left. True, a large part of his memories would have vanished, because only a machine could survive the accumulation of ten thousand cycles' worth of memories. But he was still aware of being himself. Something within him felt the burden of those previous existences. And more and more he was coming to feel that he was being forced to live the same life over and over again. On top of that he was becoming convinced that all he was doing was maintaining the R'hinz in a state of unhealthy stagnation. He wrote his thoughts down, so you'll be able to read them if you want. Anyway, eventually he came to the conclusion that his death – his permanent death – would be the best thing from every point of view. But it was a lot harder to achieve that aim than you might think."

"Because of his haptir!"

"Yes. He was one of the main obstacles. He started trying about three thousand cycles ago, and the first few times he was misguided enough to confide in his haptir."

"Who killed him in order to stop him from dying permanently, I suppose."

"Yes. And when he woke up in his new body he had forgotten the attempt and was once again fully committed to his duty. But eventually he found a way to more or less leave a message for his next life. It wasn't easy, but finally he realised that whenever he had thoughts about straying from the right path he had to hide it from his haptir. So he created this place. Yulmir was, after all, extremely intelligent, and he'd had a very long time indeed to learn the various technologies he needed. His main achievement was to use the computational capabilities and higher functions of the Sang Kang to transform this room into an inviolable sanctuary in which he could hide from the natural curiosity of his haptirs. And once he'd done that he had the perfect place to pass on information from one life to himself in his next incarnation, and so instead of losing everything with each death he started to accumulate wisdom, adding to it every time."

"But surely he couldn't get to the Sang Kang without the help of his haptir?"

"Actually that was the first problem he solved. The Sang Kang has been here since the story began – in fact it's really the technical heart of the entire system. When you start exploring it you will discover that there are a great many things you can do here. And eventually Yulmir started to wonder why he wasn't able to come here without his haptir. He asked him several times to help him to memorise the klirk, and each time he got the same answer: 'I cannot'. So naturally he started trying to memorise it on his own, adding a bit more of it every time he travelled here with his haptir. Of course he died several times before he worked out that his attempts to memorise the klirk had to be completely secret from his haptir. And eventually he succeeded! It was a remarkable feat and a masterpiece of mental engineering. Nonetheless he got caught several times with that forbidden image in his mind, and each time he paid the price for it."

"Like I almost did, too."

"Exactly."

Julien, said Xarax, I want us to leave this place. All that information… take me to Dvârinn!

Julien didn't need any more explanation than that: he could tell that the story was upsetting Xarax and he was fighting hard to keep control of himself.

"Can we jump from here?" he asked.

"Yes, you can," answered the image of Yangdehar of Dahldreng.

***

It was night when they arrived on Djannak Island. Julien dropped Xarax off in rain and total darkness, assuring him that he would come to collect him the following day at the same time.

The local vegetation was going to get shredded again!

"Have you seen Xarax?" asked Dillik.

"He's away until tomorrow evening."

"What, on another mission?"

"Yes."

"All right. So when are we going sailing again?"

"I don't know. Why, do you need another holiday?"

"I always need holidays!"

While they were waiting for the return of Ambar and the evening meal Dillik was making the most of being alone with Julien. Snuggled comfortably on his lap he was basking in the simple tenderness which is the sign of a really close relationship. And Julien, his nose against Dillik's black hair, which was scented with both the herbs used in his bath and his own very special fragrance, drew great comfort from the boy's complete trust in him.

Sadly that peace was interrupted by the sound of the door chime. It turned out to be an official messenger – and, worse, it was one of the ceremonial heralds who dealt with the most formal communications, and Julien, who had been given a very brief warning by a panicked Guard, barely had time to scramble into a semi-formal abba, so that he could greet such a significant official without insulting his employer.

Hidden within the bombastic meanderings of a verbal message delivered in the most exquisite High Speech, Julien could just about make out that the Major Circle of Guides – who, by the way, sent their compliments for the achievements accomplished by the Warden of the Nine Worlds in the Art of the Guides, which was known to be so close to his heart – wished to inform His Lordship that his tsenn kenn (Owner of the Name), Yülien Yalil Wilah ek Aïn, had performed his First Jump with astonishing precociousness. The Major Circle congratulated his Akou Nyipa, His Lordship Yulmir, Warden of (and so on and so forth) and enquired respectfully about the course His Lordship wished to pursue in respect of this felicitous event.

This was followed by the usual wishes for Long Life and Everlasting Happiness, as well as offering assurances as to their unshakable confidence in the Immutable and Penetrating Wisdom of the Most Perfect Jewel of the R'hinz (and so on for another five minutes or so).

The Most Perfect Jewel had refreshments served to the Honourable Messenger while he sent in a hurry for Master Wenn Hyaï, who had to be pulled from a restoring bath, and one furthermore that was even more satisfying than usual because of Karik's kindness in administering one of the scratching sessions at which the boy had become thoroughly proficient.

That pup really is precocious, he commented on his arrival. He's made his First Jump even earlier than Aïn himself, if my memory serves. Congratulations!

Thanks, but it was nothing to do with me, said Julien.

How can you be so sure?

Anyway, what do they expect me to do now?

Since you're his akou, and a Guide as well, you ought to take charge of his education. But I don't think that's what the Circle expects you to do. They're probably chosen an instructor for him already.

What is your opinion?

You're very busy, and you have lots of other responsibilities.

Wenn Hyaï, you're a terrible liar!

All right. We should tell the Circle to fu… We should respectfully tell the Circle to keep their greedy paws off the lad's fur, and that you'll take charge of his education yourself. He's probably going to turn out to be a genius. Anyway, you've got everything you need to initiate him. Don't forget that you're the one who is going to transfer the power to create new Guides to the next Grand Master of their Circle. If you let them have the kid they'll probably try to turn him into their puppet, which would be a dreadful waste.

Crumbs, it sounds like you don't like them very much!

I've got good reason. Maybe I'll tell you about it later.

But… if I take on his training I won't know what to do! And it's true, what you said about my timetable being over-full…

I'll help you. Trust me – we'll manage.

I do trust you. And you're an excellent teacher.

You're a very good pupil.

So – what should I tell the messenger?

***

"Honourable Messenger, please use the best style possible to convey my answer. I'm relying on you to make it a model of respect and diplomacy. You wouldn't be here if you weren't an expert in the Art of saying things in the best possible way. Am I right?"

"His Lordship's judgement is clearly too indulgent by far, but I have indeed been instructed in the delicate Art of Political Communication."

"Excellent! Then I'd like you to to use your talent to help me avoid any friction with the Circle of Guides."

"I shall do my best, Your Lordship."

"What's your name?"

"Yangden Lhato, at Your Lordship's service."

"Honourable Yangden, please take an answer to these Honourable Guides of the Major Circle to the effect that I will go to Yaï Ho tomorrow to collect my tsenn kenn and that I intend to educate him myself with the help of the Master Guide Wenn Hyaï, who is himself a member of the Circle. They won't like it. Wrap it up any way you like – and I'll be delighted not to receive an official protest in return, you understand?"

The Honourable Messenger permitted himself a smile and took his leave, determined to bring his mission to a positive conclusion.

***

The atmosphere among the Katak clan was one of careful reserve. Naturally everyone was delighted by the Emperor's tsenn kenn's precociousness, but the prospect of entrusting his education, as prescribed by tradition, to an akou nyipa who, Master Guide though he undoubtedly was, was all the same a mere human, did make some of them a little concerned. Even if that human was Protector of the Nine Worlds, surely he couldn't…? And the Circle itself… And in any case, such precociousness wasn't always a good sign – someone ought to keep a close eye on… And so on.

Unlike the oldest, and therefore most conservative, members of the family, Yülien himself could barely stop himself jumping for joy. However, showing a caution beyond his years he managed to restrain himself. In so doing he was following the sensible advice of an older brother who was aware of what was at stake and who was sufficiently free from envy not to resent the interest his brother was generating or, above all, his probable good fortune.

"If you keep your mouth shut," he advised Yülien, "there's a small chance that your akou nyipa will take you with him. But if you start shooting your mouth off you can bet the old farts will lock you away somewhere until you're good enough to eat them for breakfast, and that won't happen any time soon!"

And so Yülien greeted Julien with all the signs of a jaded indifference. Julien, who had expected an affectionate assault, was rather taken aback – at least until physical contact was established, at which point he heard a desperate voice in his head.

Akou! it said. They want to keep me here! You won't let them, will you?

Hello, Yülien. Does that mean that you want to come and live with me in the Palace?

Of course I do!

Then don't worry: nobody is going to separate me from my favourite tsenn kenn.

You've got more than one?!

No, but if I did have others you'd still be my favourite. By the way, congratulations on your First Jump. You'll have to tell me the details later.

Isn't Ambar here?

He'll be here in time for the feast. He kept me up half the night telling me what he's going to do with you once you're with us. And Akou Ugo sends his love, and Uncle Subadar promises to scratch your head, provided that you don't try to mesmerise him into it.

What about Master Wenn Hyaï? Isn't he with you?

He'll be along later. Surely you don't want your akou to have to ask another Guide to transport him like a passenger?

So – you came on your own?!

Yes, and I intend to take you back the same way.

You're cured, then?

I think we can safely say that now.

So you're a true Master Guide?

So Wenn Hyaï tells me.

***

The negotiations were courteous but lasted several hours. The Clan was reluctant to give up its new Boy Wonder. But Wenn Hyaï could be every bit as tenacious – not to say long-winded – as the old Clan chiefs, and when, led into a snare by their opponent's feigned clumsiness, they made the mistake of mentioning the Great Book of Traditions to support their polite refusal, he gave them the equivalent of a severe thrashing by quoting entire chapters of the sections in it that were dedicated to the 'Habits of the Honourable Guides and the immemorial Customs of their Clans'.

Fortunately the Guides were eminently reasonable beings and so they knew how to be gracious in acknowledging defeat, especially when it was inflicted by a Master as respected as Wenn Hyaï, whose ongoing disagreements with the Major Circle had done nothing to diminish his reputation for immense valour and absolute loyalty. Consequently they resigned themselves to letting others cut their rough diamond and agreed with sincere enthusiasm to attend the First Jump banquet that had been specially imported from the kitchens of the Palace.

As Julien had promised, Ambar arrived in time for the feast and was pleased to meet again some of the leading experts who had previously offered him advice and encouragement while benefiting (though with a lot less publicity) from some of his lightning intuitions which were starting to make him famous in even the most esoteric of mathematical circles.

"We're going to have to do something about those two."

"What, Ambar and Yülien? What do you mean, Subadar?"

"Can't you see?"

"It's too hot to play riddles. What can't I see?"

"They were born to be a Nyingtchik, a two-in-one."

"Ah – like you and Yol, you mean?"

"That's it."

"Are you sure?"

"I'd be extremely surprised if I'm wrong."

"Well I suppose they do seem to spend a lot of time together – in fact Yülien would sleep in our bed if I let him!"

"I think you should."

"Huh? Really?"

"Absolutely. He needs it. I know that Yol's happy to look after him, but Yol's the one who pointed out to me that the kid needs something more. That's why I raised the subject in the first place."

"If Ugo is part of this conspiracy, who am I to stand in the way? So what do you want me to do?"

"First, keep them together as much as possible. Ambar can stay with Yülien during his training, and in fact he can join in, too. And if Yülien wants to sit at Ambar's feet while our mathematical prodigy is discussing combinatorial topology with the big brains of the High Commission I'm sure it won't do any harm."

"Is that all?"

"Almost, but it's actually quite a lot. You need to start seeing them as a single entity. Their bond is already very strong, and it's going to get stronger. When they're ready they'll come to you and ask you to make them Nyingtchik."

"And how do I do that?"

"I'll give you the details when the time comes, but to them it'll seem a bit like what you did with the Neh-kyong Tchiwa Ri Kor."

"It means they'll become blood-brothers – and spirit-brothers too – won't it?"

"Yes."

"Powers of the R'hinz, as Niil would say: an exceptionally gifted Guide and a mathematical genius. Talk about hitting the jackpot!"

"That's the good news."

"What's the bad news?"

"Just wait until Yülien hits puberty!"

***

Yülien wasn't that close to puberty just yet, but Julien already found his insatiable curiosity exasperating at times.

"Ambar," he said, "if that little brat doesn't get out of this bed right now you'll end up sleeping on your own."

"I can't see why it bothers you," said Ambar. "It's not like he's even touching you."

"Do you think I'm stupid? I know perfectly well that the little pervert isn't simply licking your toes – he's inside your head too!"

"He's just curious. I can't see what's wrong with that."

"I'm his Akou – that's what's wrong!"

"So what?"

"It's… it's not normal. It's incest!"

"Don't be so stupid. That's a complete violation of logic – you can't have incest without biological family ties."

"I'll violate something else if you don't stop quibbling, Mister Know-it-all!"

"Promises, promises!"

"Anyway, he's far too young."

"Oh, come on! Technically he's older than Dillik and he'll catch up with me pretty soon. It's not our fault if Guides grow up faster than humans. Things level out eventually, of course…"

"I didn't ask for a lecture on comparative biology! Not at this time of night, anyway. I'd just like a bit of privacy, that's all."

"You're changing the subject. Yülien is definitely not too young."

Julien sighed.

"All right," he conceded, "he's not too young. But I'd still prefer him to disconnect from you for a bit. Please could you do that for me?"

"Well, if you absolutely insist…"

"Thank you."

"But it'll make him sad. He'll feel rejected. And of course it'll affect me, too, knowing he's unhappy…"

"You're winding me up, aren't you?"

"Yes."

***

Akou, asked Yülien, do you love me as much as Ambar?

It's not the same. I hope you're not jealous!

No… but… you don't mind if Ambar loves me?

No, I don't mind. I'm happy he loves you the way he does. Actually I'm very happy for both of you. It's just going to take a bit of getting used to, that's all.

Do you think we can be Nyingtchik one day?

That's up to you, isn't it?

Of course, but what do you think?

I think that if I go on scratching your head long enough you'll be able to persuade me to love you as much as I love Ambar.

No, I'm being serious!

Seriously? I think you were born to be together. Like Master Subadar and Master Yol.

Akou Ugo has been telling me stories about when you were little. Is it really true that you knew he understood you when you spoke to him?

Yes, it's true. The grown-ups kept telling me that it was impossible, but I was sure he could understand me – even when he tried to put people off the scent by acting the fool.

What do you mean, 'put people off the scent'?

Ugo knew exactly what he had to do to send me back to Nüngen, and he needed us to be alone for it to work. The best way to stop people asking questions was to act like an ordinary dog, and it worked perfectly.

You like Akou Ugo a lot, don't you? Do you think that he could have been your Chenn-da?

No, because he was already Master Subadar's Chenn-da. You can't have more than one Chenn-da.

And that's why you have to be sure that you're choosing the right one, isn't it?

Do you really think it's a question of choosing?

You're right: you don't choose, it just happens. So did you ever have a Chenn-da?

I don't know, Yülien. There are so many things I can't remember.

Still, I think you would remember it if you had had a Chenn-da. It's the sort of thing that stays with you always. I don't think I could ever forget Ambar.

I'm sure you're right.

And I'll never forget you, either.

I'm flattered.

It's true!

And I believe you. So, do you want me to scratch your tummy now? We've got a bit more time before Ambar is due back.

Yes, please!!

Yülien!! I said your tummy!

So? That is my tummy!

That's your… lower belly!

"Hey, Subadar," asked Julien, "are our two geniuses with you?"

"No, they left about a tchoutsö back."

"It doesn't take that long to walk across a corridor. Do you know where Wenn Hyaï is?"

"He's on Dvârinn with Tannder."

Julien grabbed the hammer which hung next to a small gong on Subadar's favourite desk and used it, and the gong emitted a piercing note which, after a surprisingly short delay, brought Xarax to the scene.

Do you know where Ambar and Yülien are? Julien asked him.

Wait… I can't sense them any longer!

Are you sure? Sorry, of course you're sure. And if you can't sense them it can only mean that they're not in the Palace.

They're not even on Nüngen!

"Subadar, apparently they're not on Nüngen any longer. It looks as if Yülien has sprouted wings."

It's my fault, said Xarax. I should have been more careful.

You can't spend your entire life constantly watching over everyone.

"Well, it's all right because Ambar has my personal klirk on a chain round his neck," said Julien, aloud. "I'm sure he won't have got rid of it. Subadar, I'm going to send for Wenn Hyaï, and when he gets here we'll go after them, the two of us and Xarax. Can you keep an eye on Dillik, please?"

They didn't need to visit every world to search. Once they reached the familiar chaos of the Outside Julien started looking for the characteristic flavour of his own signature as it appeared on the particular target-klirk he had given to Ambar. It should have been fairly straightforward: he had already practised doing this several times, and each time he had located Ambar almost instantly. But this time it wasn't working. Either the klirk had completely disappeared, or…

Or… well, actually, there was no other explanation. If there was one thing that stood out like a beacon in the Outside it was a target-klirk. Time and distance counted for nothing. Some target-klirks were several millennia old and they would still have drawn their owners to them easily if the owners hadn't been dead for thousands of years. Julien could still feel the presence of some of Yulmir's ancient klirks. And it was no simple matter to destroy a klirk: few furnaces are hot enough. To destroy one by accident would be impossible, unless its wearer were to jump into…

They couldn't have jumped into a star, could they?!!

Even that little daredevil Yülien wouldn't be that silly, said Wenn Hyaï. If you're sure you can't sense them, it would be best if we went back to the Palace.

***

Looks like Subadar was wrong, Wenn Hyaï, said Julien. We didn't have to wait for Yülien to hit puberty for him to get in trouble.

Even if he couldn't remember the klirk for the Palace – which I don't believe, anyway – he should still be able to find his way back using the Table.

That's what worries me.

Should we have another go at locating them?

All right. Xarax is coming with us, mind.

Right, but first you need to compose yourself a bit, because otherwise we're going to get into more trouble. I think you ought to let Xarax help you for the time being.

Now that Xarax was free to tinker with Julien's emotions the boy felt the terrible tension in his body and his mind disappear. He hadn't even been aware of just how tense he was until that tension eased. He took a firm grip on Wenn Hyaï's fur and transported them to the Outside, but although he followed the Master Guide's instructions on searching for his klirk he could find no trace of it. They reluctantly started to consider the possibility that their friends had vanished from the universe.

They returned to the 'normal' world. Julien sat down to talk things through with Subadar, while Wenn Hyaï suggested that he should go and talk to the historians of the Major Circle to try to find out if such a thing had ever happened before, even though he was sure it had not. But Julien said that he would only involve the Circle as a last resort, because if they found out what had happened it would give them a solid pretext for demanding more say in Yülien's training. Subadar agreed, and said that he would consult his own archives.

Julien and Xarax didn't need to talk to each other to know what they were going to do themselves: as soon as they left Subadar they would ask Wenn Hyaï to look after Dillik while they went to look into some archives of their own.

***

As soon as they arrived in the corridor of the Sang Kang Julien thought 'archives' and a door opened, revealing a room not a lot bigger than a fairly basic hotel bedroom, panelled with pale wood and containing only a comfortable-looking armchair. Julien closed the door and sat down, and the light dimmed to a sort of half-level that would be ideal for either rest or contemplation. Xarax had warned him what was going to happen, and so Julien wasn't too startled when a voice spoke to him, asking him politely what he needed to know.

"Do you know anything about the disappearance of a target-klirk?" he asked.

"If by 'disappearance' you mean any attempt to steal a target-klirk, there have been four thousand, three hundred and twenty-eight such attempts since…"

"No, I'm not talking about stealing. Has a target-klirk ever disappeared so completely that nobody could find it?"

"There are a large number of target-klirks that are now lost due to the death of their owners. As Your Lordship is aware, such objects can only be sensed by…"

"I know, thank you. Has it ever happened that a Guide couldn't find one of his own target-klirks?"

"Wayak the Scatty, towards the end of his life, complained about the loss of his klirks, and so did You Wenn the Gaga, and…"

"Stop! Was Yulmir ever unable to find one of his klirks?"

"I can find no record of such an event. Of course that does not mean that it could not have happened without my being informed."

"Can a target-klirk possibly self-deactivate?"

"The probability of such an event is so small as to be impossible to measure."

"Is it possible to deactivate a target-klirk?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"By destroying it. Melting is the means usually employed."

"Are there other ways?"

"Some believe that some Neh-kyongs or Dre Tchenns destroy klirks when they pull a territory into their reality, but nobody knows how they do so, even if they do."

"Do you think that a target-klirk entering the territory of a Neh-kyong or a Dre Tchenn would become impossible for its owner to sense?"

"Not unless the entity pulled the territory into its own reality."

"As happened with Tchenn Ril or Tchiwa Ri Kor?"

"I am not aware that Tchiwa Ri Kor has been pulled from this reality."

"That's true."

"But it does seem likely that a target-klirk that is now in Tchenn Ril would be impossible to locate. Of course this is only a surmise with a probability of only 92.532864…"

"Thank you, I think that's precise enough."

"Should I infer from His Lordship's questions that an imperial target-klirk is currently missing?"

"Yes."

"Could it be the target-klirk permanently assigned to the Noble Brother Ambar of the Ksantiris?"

For a moment Julien wondered just how this bloody machine could be so well-informed, but this didn't seem to be the time to pursue that line of enquiry.

"Yes, it is," he replied.

"Indeed, my sensors can no longer perceive the presence of the Noble Brother, nor that of the Tsenn kenn Yülien. Their absence started one tchoutsö, forty-eight tikas and twenty-eight ketchiks ago, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one…"

"Thank you."

***

Once they got back to the Palace Julien tried to calm Niil down, hiding behind a façade of serenity that he was far from feeling. It had only taken him an hour to try everything he could think of and use all the resources at his command, and he was still no further forward: nobody had been able to suggest a course of action. The two friends had simply vanished, and a klirk that was supposed to help them and which should have been impossible to deactivate had apparently decided to switch itself off.

It was a grim evening: the missing pair's friends gathered in Julien's private lounge, and anyone seeing them would have thought they had just got back from a funeral. Nobody wanted to voice the thought they were all sharing: they were never going to see the missing pair again. It wasn't even as though they had been abducted by an enemy, even a really powerful one: at least in that situation they would have been able to try to plan a response, even if it was a near-suicidal one.

Dillik was sitting on Julien's lap, and although he was doing his best to put on a brave front it was clear that he was close to tears.

A major problem with some branches of mathematics, and in particular that branch practised by the more expert mathematicians among the Guides, is the immense difficulty in finding some means of notation that can cover such esoteric subjects as 'the differential tension of reality' and 'the index of dimensional withdrawal', because such subjects are not only far beyond the understanding of most intelligent beings but also defy any attempt to represent them graphically.

One of the most prized aspects of Ambar's genius was an unprecedented ability, not only to grasp such bizarre concepts, but also to visualise them, not as images – that would be impossible – but as a kind of mental state which, although there was no other way of expressing them, was nonetheless a perfect reflection of what they represented. Of course this only meant anything to those beings who were capable of perceiving these mental states and could appreciate their substance. In other words, only Guides could perceive what Ambar created, and only a tiny minority of them were able to understand what they were perceiving. In fact the number who could really follow the incredible complexity of his speculations was thought to be three or four at most, despite the claims of a number of senior members of the High Commission for Mathematics who tried to include themselves in that number.

At first the baroque, or even extravagant, fruits of the boy from Nüngen's exceptional brain had been received with a scepticism that grew in proportion to the self-esteem of the High Commission's leading lights. But it had rapidly become clear that, not only was the boy offering viable information, but that anyone who wanted to avoid being considered second-rate needed to follow his work closely, or – if they were unable to do that – to keep themselves up-to-date by reading the reports prepared by those few who were able to interpret them for the benefit of less finely-honed minds.

Ambar's strange gift was clearly going to secure him a comfortable future practising a fascinating discipline which he loved surrounded by some of the greatest minds in the Known Universe, but it hadn't in any other way changed his personality: he was still the same happy, good-natured and well-adjusted boy he had always been. He certainly wasn't a typical introverted geek, far less a tortured genius who was prisoner of his talent.

But his gift was responsible for what had happened to him now.

He and Yülien were engaged in the process that would lead them to the state called Nyingtchik, where they would become, in mental terms, a single entity, like two almonds in the same shell.

They were aware of this and proud of it, too, and they could hardly wait for the inner signal that would prompt them to ask Julien to help them complete their union. This relationship was nothing like the one between Ambar and Julien, but all the same the feeling between the young human and the little Guide was a closeness like that which sometimes exists between twins.

Yülien had been strictly forbidden from trying to jump, especially with a passenger, unless one of his two instructors was also with him. And Ambar had been warned that were he to attempt to suggest such an escapade to a budding Guide who was far too suggestible for his own good, he would incur the considerable wrath of those responsible for his well-being. Of course, everyone knew that such warnings wouldn't be effective for all eternity, but they hoped they would last long enough for Yülien to be taught enough basic techniques to enable him to avoid disaster when the temptation became too strong.

Sadly…

Ambar had spent two hours in Master Subadar's study, listening to a fascinating lecture on the legends of Kang Tamal, during which time his attention had been drawn away from his beloved mathematics (which was in fact the whole point of the lecture). So as soon as he was free, purely by way of relaxation, he tried to recreate in his head the scheme he'd spent most of the past ten days working on. At that moment Yülien, who had been sleeping at his feet during the lecture, chose to re-establish contact with him by pressing against him, and Ambar, who was completely absorbed in his contemplation, automatically responded by placing a hand on his neck without even being aware of it.

Yülien was totally unable to identify the mixture of images and emotions flooding through his friend's head, but his reaction was nonetheless immediate. He didn't jump in the usual way, but his mind, obeying an irresistible impulse, did something that no Guide had ever done before.

They instantly found themselves 'somewhere else'.

Yülien was unable to recognise anything.

Like most young Guides, he hated the Outside, which Julien and Wenn Hyaï had frequently taken him into in order for him to get used to it. But this was not the Outside. If it had been, Ambar would not have been clutching his neck hard enough almost to strangle him, because he lacked the sensory equipment to perceive the other side of reality. In the Outside Ambar would have remained placid, totally unaware of his surroundings until they re-entered normal space. So this wasn't the Outside, and nor was it the Narthex, which Yülien had visited a few times in order to witness some of Julien's fascinating sessions of 'environmental creation', which were part of his regular exercises.

No, this 'elsewhere' into which they had just travelled was more completely alien than anything they could have imagined. Instead of the relatively familiar chaos of the Outside they found themselves immersed in a sickening mixture of pseudo-localisations that gave them the feeling of being in several places at the same time, none of which resembled anything they had ever seen before. The only thing that was stable and real for them was each other.

What really terrified Yülien was that, for the first time, his training as a Guide was no use to him. Even before he had learned to talk he had been made to look, over and over again, at the image of the Table klirk. It was a relatively simple diagram that even Guides whose Gift had never developed knew by heart. It was what they used when they made their spontaneous first jump, and it was what they used to get home again if they ever became lost. As soon as he realised that something had gone wrong he had visualised the Table klirk in his mind, held it stable and tried to jump, but nothing had happened. He knew there was nothing wrong with his Gift: he'd given the requisite push. But there was nowhere to jump to: no Orientation Table, no Palace, no Nüngen, no Nine Worlds. Nothing!

What's this? cried Ambar; panicking. Where are we? Is this the Outside?

No, it's not the Outside, Yülien replied.

Take us home!

I can't. It doesn't work.

Have you lost your Gift?!

No, but I don't know where we are and I can't get us to the Table. Ambar, you're choking me… careful!!! Don't let go of me whatever you do!

No chance! Urghhh… I think I'm going to puke! There's no floor – it feels like we're falling non-stop…

At once Ambar felt solid ground under his feet and the feeling of being in free-fall ended.

Did you do that? he asked.

I think so. I did what Akou Julien does in the Narthex, but I didn't think it would work.

Are we in the Narthex, then?

I don't think so. You can jump to the Table easily from the Narthex, and I can't do that here. I can't jump to the Palace, either.

I feel like I'm everywhere and nowhere. It's driving me mad… are you sure there's nothing you can do?

What do you want me to do?

I don't know… maybe make us a big b…

At that moment Ambar visualised a cube, and as soon as it appeared in his mind they were inside the large box he had been thinking about. It was filled with the pleasant light of a normal day, and at the same time the horrible feeling of not knowing where they were vanished.

Did I do that? he asked.

I don't know. Probably, because I didn't do anything. But this certainly feels better.

Are you sure we're not in the Narthex? I mean, I've never been there, but it does seems a bit like it, don't you think?

Well, yes, it is a bit like it, but I've never been able to do anything in the Narthex. Akou explained everything to me, but every time I tried to change things, nothing happened. And, anyway, like I said, you can jump from the Narthex. Every time we've been there I've been the one who took Akou Julien back to the Table.

There must be a way to get back.

I hope so, because I'm getting thirsty.

Can you try to make some water appear?

I've tried. It didn't work.

Julien will rescue us.

I suppose we'll just have to wait until he starts wondering where we are.

***

So they waited.

For a little while…

A long time…

A very long time.

In other circumstances they would have been able to think of plenty of ways to keep themselves entertained, but here… well, they really weren't in the mood. Back at the Palace the dinner gong must have been struck, and that meant that people were probably looking for them by now.

Perhaps we shouldn't stay in this box, suggested Yülien. Perhaps it's keeping them from finding us.

Perhaps, but I haven't got the foggiest idea of how to get rid of it. And I'm not that keen to find myself back outside it, either.

If they can't find us, do you think we're going to die?

They'll find us. Julien will turn over every stone in the R'hinz to find us.

But what if we're not in the R'hinz any more?

He'll find us anyway.

I'm thirsty. What are we going to do if it lasts too long?

Gradik told me that he once got lost in a small boat and had to drink his own urine for several days.

D'you think it was true?

He swore it was.

I don't think I'm that thirsty yet.

Nor am I. I am pretty tired, though. Shall we try sleeping for a bit? Then maybe we can try to open the box, if you think it's a good idea.

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