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To The Last Syllable Of Recorded Time

     Viewed from an adequate distance, the planet looked green. At a closer look, it glistened in tones alternating between lime-green and a delicate azure. It looked iridescent and pleasing, but like many a first impression, this one too, held only as long as the observer kept his distance.
     At a closer distance the dazzling mix of colors divulged its true nature -- a special sort of particularly fine sand, gleaming in the light of an aging sun. The planet's surface was covered with it, and the occasional violent storms carried it from one place to the next, changing the color pattern every so often. The traces of whatever civilizations had inhabited it in the past were long gone, brushed away by the perpetual circulation of the sand. No traces of life had remained, no ruins. Only dune after dune of minuscule green crystals.
     Viewed up close, this planet was not a pleasant place, so anyone would have been astounded at the sight of masses of Crown troopers in bulky protection suits digging their way through layer after layer of hot, dry sand. The highly developed AI of the League deep space probe currently hovering over one of the magnetic poles of the planet in order to escape detection was intelligent enough to be intrigued -- in a machine-like sort of way. Judging the importance of the information correctly, it also had started sending a continuous stream of data directly to the Bureau of Extraterrestrial Affairs on Earth a few hours ago, keeping the transmission weak enough to merge into the background radiation.
     The furiously working troopers on the planet did not notice the fact that they were under observation. None of them even wasted a thought on the possibility, since their attention was focused on the all-encompassing heat that was all but melting their suits. And even through a darkened visor the green sand sparkled blindingly, making it hard to discern whatever progress was being made in the excavation work.
     Oh yes, the sand. It seemed to have a life of its own, clinging viciously to every skin patch it managed to reach, drying out nose and throat from the inside until every breath set the lungs aflame and the muscles burned from lack of oxygen. And many troopers had soon found out that the hermetic suits weren't as airtight as they were cracked up to be, and after a few hours slowly succumbed to the merciful loss of consciousness, never to awake again.
     Undetected by the probe's sensors, which were being impeded by the magnetic field it used to protect itself, deadly radiation continued to eat away at the digging troopers, sneaking silently through the small protection their suits offered.
     Killing them one by one.
    

     Walsh looked up as the lock on his office door beeped once then disengaged, revealing a group of sweaty rangers in training attire. He smiled in recognition as they drew closer, thankful that no smell seemed to trail in their wake.
     "Ah, there you are! I've got a new assignment for you. Nothing special, but strange enough to take a look. Here --" He pushed a data pad towards Captain Fox, who stood closest to the desk. The other three peered over his shoulders, straining to take a look. More accurately, Gooseman looked over Zach's shoulder; Doc and Niko peered around them.
     "Interesting," Zach mumbled. "Crown activity in the middle of nowhere, and a destroyer at that. Any data on what they are doing down there?"
     "None. That's why we want you and your team down there as soon as possible."
     "All four of us?" Gooseman mumbled incredulously, in his usual irreverent way. His tone indicated that he regarded the order as an insult to their qualifications. One S5 Ranger was usually more than enough to sort out a medium scale riot -- two could accomplish exponentially much more. But four? For a standard surveillance mission?
     "Yes. Things have been quiet during the last months -- there are no more pressing assignments. Besides, we don't know what awaits you there, so it's better to take every precaution."
     Zach nodded in acknowledgment. "Understood. When do we leave?"
     "0600 tomorrow, hangar ten. Ranger One is just coming out of a major overhaul, so it's as good as new." He frowned at Goose, whose smile was a little too feral for his taste. "Keep it that way."
     With that Walsh turned back to Zach, who looked expectantly at him. "That was all. You're dismissed."
     Outside the office Goose rubbed his bare arms, smile widening in a dazzling display of white incisors.
     "Major overhaul, eh?" he murmured. "Think of all the possibilities..."
     Zach turned to him, brow raised. "Don't," he warned.
     Goose's answering look was nothing if not innocent. "What?"
     "Think about the possibilities. We all know what happens when you do."

The hyperspace view had nothing new to offer to four seasoned astronauts, especially after a week of flight. Clothed comfortably in training attire, they chose to stare alternately at the controls and at each other instead, while sipping coffee and discussing the mission.
     "I didn't know that we had any probes so far in deep space," Doc remarked. Goose threw him a pitying look.
     Niko smiled mysteriously. "Human nature, Doc. And I'm not only talking about the curiosity."
     "She's talking about the greed. Among other things."
     "Must you be so cynical, my Goose man?"
     "You could say it's my upbringing. Besides, you never sounded too naive to me."
     Doc saluted Goose with the steaming cup. "True. But I can pretend to be, while your attempts in that direction are doomed from the beginning."
     "Right. So why try?"
     Niko grinned. Zach, who was pondering over mission parameters and listening to the banter with half an ear, allowed himself a smirk.
     "Indeed." He waved with his pad for emphasis. "Did you notice that the parameters from the probe seemed a bit too well aligned in some areas? Like they were being altered on the way?"
     Doc shook his head. "I ran them through, and everything was all right. The planet may not be the nicest, but the atmosphere is breathable and the temperature, while hot, is bearable. If the Crown had detected the probe, it would have been destroyed. Why tamper with the data if you can erase it altogether?"
     Niko took a sip from her coffee -- or, as Goose put it, milk; the amount of coffee in the cup was so small as to be negligible. In his opinion at least. "If the data was incomplete, we'll notice when we arrive. I wouldn't go down without running another series of tests anyway."
     She turned to Goose, who was eyeing the contents of her cup disdainfully, and almost dropped it. The heavy battle knife in his hand reflected the colored lights of the humming console behind him as he lay sprawled on the chair with lazy grace, running strong fingers lightly along the jagged edge of the blade... She blinked.
     "You will get the opportunity soon enough," G.V. put in happily, startling her. Her gaze, once again fixed on Goose, revealed him calmly cradling a king-size mug of black coffee. "Fifty minutes until arrival."
     Downing the remaining contents of his mug in one gulp, Goose rose and stretched mightily. "You don't say," he drawled at G.V. "I'm off to shine my blasters then. See ya in half an hour."
     Bored, Doc turned to his console. "Any additional data, G.V.?"
     "If you're referring to gossip from the Interceptor's AI, then yes. She's worse than you, by the way."
     "I beg your pardon?!"
     "The advantage of having an on-board landing craft -- I'm not alone, and I don't have to put up with ALMA -- at least not for this trip. And Sugar is a delightful gossip."
     "You disembodied piece of equipment have no idea what 'delightful' is," Doc muttered. "Anyway, I meant the planet -- any additional readings?"
     G.V. seemed to ponder. "No, the same readings as the probe."
     "Let me see."
     Niko struggled to regain some semblance of composure as she followed a bored Zach over to the console to watch the stream of data trailing across the screen. She tried to dismiss the short, vivid image of Goose with the knife, the lazy menace in his eyes as his fingers trailed lovingly across the sharp metal edge. She definitely didn't need a dysfunctional implant that caused hallucinations right now.
     Doc, who had been sprawled negligently in his chair, suddenly sat up, oblivious to her inner turmoil.
     "Wait a moment..." His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Freeze!" he demanded. "Compare to probe sensor data, equal time frame."
     The respective data streams scrolled across the screen, coming to a halt beneath the upper line. Both lines blinked red.
     "See? Those four variables are exactly the same."
     Zach rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "But that's impossible! The readings can't be exactly the same -- we're talking about atmosphere composition here -- the variables should change every second, let alone every week!"
     "Right -- but it's only a few particles, not all. Someone's doctoring the sensor data, and it's not the Crown."
     "But the planet's uninhabited," Zach protested. "It has been so for two thousand years."
     Niko's eyes widened as scraps of memories from her archaeological courses surfaced. She was more than happy for the diversion. "Maybe," she admitted, "but it was populated at some point before that -- by a space-faring species even. I remember hearing rumors about a vast interstellar empire, but since it was extinguished thousands of years ago, almost no traces remained. Maybe the device interfering with the scans dates from that time."
     "I'm afraid that's rather unlikely, but it's the best explanation we have at the moment. Since we don't know what's jamming the scans, try extrapolating from the data that hasn't been doctored. Find out what could be hidden by manipulating those particular variables. Niko, you help Doc."
     "Done. Let's see..."
     Five minutes later, Doc was frowning fiercely at the notes on his pad. "You won't like this one bit," he finally announced to the cabin at large, including Goose who had returned clothed in full uniform.
     "What is it we're not going to like?" Goose inquired.
     "Enough radiation to kill a human at thousand miles," Niko grumbled. "None of us can survive down there."
     "I can," Goose stated calmly.
     "Not for long if your implant is not adjusted accordingly, my Goose man. I don't advise it."
     "Doc's right, Goose," Zach said. "You're not going down if there is another alternative."
     "I should hope so," Niko muttered.
     G.V. interrupted them with the announcement that closer scans of the planetary surface were now available. Goose found himself staring at a huge crater filled with what looked like black dust.
     "What are those? Ants?"
     "Troopers, I'm afraid." Doc whistled. "A huge lot of them. The Queen is mighty interested in this little spot. G.V., is a better resolution possible from orbit?"
     "I'm afraid not," the AI chirped. "That's it."
     "Not enough to get to the bottom of this. Goose, when can you be ready?"
     "Zach, you must be kidding! If anything, we have to go back to BETA and adjust his implant properly!" Niko exclaimed.
     Goose raised a supercilious brow at her. "Yeah, and be back in two weeks -- just in time to see the tail of that destroyer as it disappears into hyperspace -- if that. No, that's no alternative."
     "He's right, Niko. We have to find out what's so important to the Queen. It's the only way."
     Niko frowned as blurry pictures appeared before her inner eye in quick succession. She felt hot and sweaty all of a sudden, saw the sun blazing down on her, tasted the sand on her tongue, green and somehow salty... "It's suicide!" she protested.
     Goose grinned at her. "Not that. Maybe cocky and arrogant, but that's me."
     "Reaching orbit in three minutes," G.V. remarked. "I powered up the Interceptor's systems for Ranger Gooseman. It's ready for takeoff."
     Doc handed Goose a data pad. "Here are the radiation levels we extrapolated. The Interceptor's systems shouldn't be influenced. The radiation is enough to kill a human, but you shouldn't have to alter much of your metabolism to counteract them. Your charge should last for about four days." He paused, looking for words. "You might have to adjust a little after you've landed -- the data is by no means accurate."
     "Understood. Thanks, Doc."
     Zach looked him directly in the eyes, the responsibility he shouldered obvious in his gaze. "Good luck, Gooseman."
     "Thanks, Captain. See you in four days." Walking towards the door, Goose halted once again as he heard Niko rush after him.
     "Shane... I don't want you to burn down there. I saw..." She trailed off, recalling the way her implant had misbehaved earlier. She didn't want to burden him with her fears when he had to concentrate on his mission. She wondered what had happened to her control, her meditative calm.
     Turning to face her, Goose brushed his knuckles against her cheek. He had never seen her like that, so openly worried, desperate almost. For him. It was endearing and unusual for her, so he smiled sweetly -- a huge effort, that. He was not sweet.
     "Don't worry. Looks like mine are not easily damaged." He grinned as she, predictably, frowned at him. "Really, Niko, I can take care of myself. I'll be all right. Promise."
     She straightened her shoulders and gave him a halfhearted smile. "I hope you're right. Good luck."
     She stared at his back as he left the cabin, but she didn't look at the Interceptor as it launched from Ranger One's small hangar. She refused to acknowledge her feelings of dread as the premonitions they were.

     Gooseman knew better than to swear as he watched the controls of his Interceptor flicker and then die with a last pathetic flash. Hands tightening around the control stick, he looked through the small pane at the whirling green madness outside, and clenched his teeth as the machine shuddered and whined around him in reaction to the atmospheric resistance.
     He was blind. In every sense of the word.
     On the other hand, he had been in worse situations, and the details embedded on his brain thanks to a photographic memory were just what he needed to land the bird in one piece. He just needed to estimate height, velocity and acceleration, and he was safe.
     The cockpit all but screamed around him, tested to the point of bursting. Nothing was worse for structural integrity than tons of sand crashing against the metal at incredible speed. Goose resorted to cursing after all as he pulled the stick gently towards him, trying to slow the descent of the ship. It was no good, the way it insisted falling like a stone towards oblivion. Given the intensity of the storm, there had to be a draft strong enough to carry even the bulky Interceptor.
     He just had to catch it.
     He frowned, feeling how beads of sweat started to gather on his forehead. Strange. Then he swore again, with feeling, kept pulling slowly at the control stick, despite a growing urge to rip it out of its mounting, and finally caught it.
     The draft.
     It was just enough to stabilize the aircraft and allow it to continue its descent at a saner pace. Even without controls, Goose could feel how the patterns of the air movement shifted, increasingly hindered by the approach of the ground. The sand became darker, more dense, until it almost formed a solid wall. Its pull had also increased, the ferocity with which it shook the small aircraft incredible in its intensity.
     And then there it suddenly was: the ground. Approaching at a still crazy speed, but one with which his reflexes could cope. He pulled harder at the stick, causing the Interceptor's nose to lift just enough to catch a slight updraft.
     The sand flew away to both sides, an effective brake. Still, there was a mighty jolt as the ship landed, slamming Goose forehead first into the control board.
     Long minutes trickled by.
     Finally a dazed Gooseman lifted his head and brushed a hand tentatively across his face. It was wet.
     Immediately he hit the badge with such force that the metal almost bent. The familiar glow felt good as it penetrated his whole body, washing away the first symptoms of acute radiation poisoning, subtly changing his skin and metabolism. Perfectly adapting to the environment.
     Allowing his arms to rest on the sides of the pilot's seat, Gooseman paused to ponder his situation. His less than rosy situation. Without any possibility for communication and the limited charge of his implant, he wouldn't last more than one and a half days in this exceedingly hostile environment.
     A rescue mission was also out of the question -- this had been clear from the beginning. So his mission had been altered from that of an observer to that of an infiltrator -- an impossible feat for someone without his capabilities and training. A quick survey of the ship's state confirmed his analysis; the Interceptor was in no state to leave the planet -- now or ever.
     The more aggressive approach suited him, he decided as he crawled out of the cockpit and shouldered the thirty pounds' weight of the survival pack. He didn't waste time on camouflaging the ship -- it was far enough from the Crown activities not to be detected, and the continual sand movement provided enough cover.
     He didn't look back as he started on the long march toward the Crown base.

    "Controls failing... I'm trying to shift to man--" Static had overlaid the rest, paralyzing all but Doc, whose fingers flicked furiously over the console. Zach had recovered first, but, used to keeping his calm, he let Doc work. It was Niko who exploded.
     "Dammit, Doc, get him back on line!!"
     "I'm working on it!" He didn't look up at her when he continued. "By now he's already landed anyway. One way or the other," he added, looking grim.
     "We're going down," Niko stated, resolutely. She dared Zach to challenge her, give her a reason to vent her anger, her despair on him. She wanted to strike him as he just looked calmly back.
     "I'm still in command of this unit. And we're not going after him."
     "He could be wounded, unconscious. We have to!"
     "He could be dead. If we go down there, we die. With that radiation level, we are dead before we've even landed." A slap would have been better than those words, more gentle. Anything but the one possibility she had tried to shut out completely because it ripped her open from the inside. The anguish in her mind blazed a telepathic swath towards her colleagues, who all but sagged under the unexpected weight. The possibility of loss weighed hard on them, but her all-encompassing despair piled upon their own, less vivid feelings was too much. The first to recognize the source, Zach narrowed his eyes at her.
     "Niko! Cut it out!"
     She did, not without effort. She did not waste time on wondering why she could suddenly project her feelings to non-telepaths. The grief was too new to allow too much thought. And mixed into it there still was that frail, cruel thread of hope.
     "Shane's not dead. I can feel it." The truth, or a telepath's mind that wanted to believe? She didn't want to think about it. She would also have loved to slap Doc's hand away as it landed comfortingly on her shoulder.
     "He might be alive -- God knows he's seldom landed a bird the way it was meant to. But we can't go down there."
     "He's right, Niko." Zach's voice, this time soothing with the memory of shared pain. "All we can do is stay here, keep watch, and work on a way to locate his badge. If he's alive, he will find a way to leave the planet. And when he does, we'll get him."
     He wasn't sure of it, she could sense as much. He was thinking of Eliza and their failure, hoping it would work this time. But there was no guarantee -- there never was.
     "I'll keep watch," Doc announced.
     "I stay with you. Niko, you go get some rest. If we are to get Goose back, we need a telepath with a clear mind."
     Her training forgotten, rational thought an impossibility, she shook her head. "No. I want to stay --"
     "That's an order." Zach's tone was icy.
     What are you going to do -- throw me in the brig? She didn't voice the thought -- he sure looked capable of responding in kind. And years in the military trained reflexes too deeply embedded to be influenced by grief.
     "Yes Sir." After the bridge door had hissed open and then closed behind her slender frame, Doc looked helplessly at the expressionless face of his Captain.
     "Know what that was all about? I've never seen her like that. Goose..."
     "Goose is part of it. But there's something else..." His mouth tightened dismissively. "It doesn't matter. We'll sort that out later. Now we concentrate on pulling Gooseman's hide out of the fire."
     "Aye, Sir."
     As Doc turned back to his controls and Zach bent over his own console, the possibility of failure had just been erased from their minds.

     After twenty hours of marching through fine, hot sand, even genetically enhanced muscles screamed with exhaustion. At least it was already dark, the suddenness of nightfall a constant on every desert planet he had ever visited -- as was the cold. For the latter he was well prepared -- his new metabolism had adjusted admirably to the freezing temperatures of the night, as it had to the merciless blaze during the day. He could survive without water and food for days, which was not as important, considering that he had only twenty more hours at most until the first signs of radiation poisoning.
     The adjustments to his physical body had not changed the fact that his thoughts were still human and his human brain expected his body to feel thirst as well as hunger. He obliged it by taking a few sips from the bottle hanging from his belt. He also devoured one of the bland-tasting food rations -- he had no reason to save them for later. After folding and tucking the wrapping into a belt pocket, he resumed his walk.
     Half an hour later, Gooseman had reached the outermost edge of the crater the Crown troops had been so diligently digging. He wondered briefly why they didn't employ machines for the excavation work instead of the more inefficient troopers, then realized that long-term shielding of electronical devices was impossible because of the level of radiation. A quick look through infrared surveillance goggles revealed indeed a few abandoned diggers all but covered in sand -- testimony to the Crown's unsuccessful efforts in that direction.
     They've probably underestimated the radiation level in the beginning -- just like we did. No wonder they keep their ships in orbit most of the time.
     Crouching low behind one of the dunes that were in plentiful supply all around the camp, he lowered the survival pack carefully to the ground. Reaching down, he pulled the zipper on one of the bag's pockets and retrieved an assortment of electronical devices which he started to put together with practiced ease.
     Now, let's hear the latest gossip... Inserting a minuscule earphone into his left ear, he brushed the fingers of his right hand over the small display, activating it.
     Nothing. The usual hissing noise of static was there, but beyond that, there was no sign of communications. Frowning, Goose typed a quick series of commands into the unit -- it seemed to function perfectly, and, unlike the Interceptor, it was well suited to withstand even the present level of radiation.
     Shrugging, he settled down and waited, well aware that he allowed precious time to elapse. After half an hour of listening to white noise, he was starting to lose patience.
     Hmm. The slaves in a Crown camp are downright chatty compared to this bunch here. He checked his watch -- since the small devices he carried were likely to withstand a nuclear explosion without much of a scratch, the watch was still functioning. He had nineteen hours left.
     Since there was no other option until a ship arrived, he shifted until he was more comfortable and lifted the goggles to get a better look at the night shift.
     The shovels were sinking and lifting in a busy, irregular jumble of movement. There was no rhythm, no precision to the movements of the troopers -- just tired, forced repetition. Five slaverlords guarded the camp, the crystals on their chests pulsing busily.
     Those five sure spend a lot of energy -- on shielding, I should think.
     But if the Queen wasn't able to shield the machines, how much of a success could she have with humanoid beings? Even the best suit didn't offer protection for more than a few hours -- twelve at most. The irradiation effects were irreversible after that, and led to death within hours.
     Holy shit. This is the biggest Crown graveyard I'm likely to see in my lifetime.
     As if in confirmation, a few of the troopers dropped shortly after another. Strangely, no commotion ensued; they were simply carried away and loaded into what looked like a primitive truck. Goose shuddered at the thought that it most likely contained more similar cargo. He lowered the goggles instinctively at the obscene sight, but managed to resist the urge to rip them off his head.
     He had to find out what was so important that the Queen killed off half of her army to get it. But one way or the other, he was out of here with the next Crown ship.

     "Zach! They're preparing to land."
     Doc, who was looking over Niko's shoulder, whistled.
     "Yeah, and the big tin can too. Does that look like the big decampment or what?"
     Zach stared at the controls. "Looks like it. We'd better make ready to follow them. Niko, what time frame do you estimate for the departure?"
     "About one hour, I'd say. Give or take ten minutes."
     Doc nodded. "Yeah, they've got a whole bunch of troopers to load into that destroyer."
     "Good. Be ready to copy hyperspace signature in half an hour. That gives us about twenty minutes to maneuver should something unexpected happen. Niko, you assist Doc."
     "Understood."
    
     Goose's head perked up at the unexpected sound of thrusters. He had not yet given up, but it was already nighttime, and the previous transport of fresh troopers, arriving in broad daylight in the center of an open space, had been impossible to enter. The second transport was nine hours overdue, and it was about nine hours ago that the level of action within the camp had risen dramatically -- they had found something, if he read the signs right. Probably the reason why no other transport had been necessary. Now a ship was coming down to pick up the few remaining troopers -- and the four slaverlords. One of them had ceased to function a few hours ago.
     Anyway, he would have to take his chances with this transport. Looking up at the sky, he watched the outline of the ship through the ever present whirls of sand as it began its descent.
     No small landing ship this time, but the big destroyer they had kept in orbit until now. Looking down at his hands, Goose realized they trembled. He wished it were the nerves, but the angry welts blossoming on now almost human skin spoke otherwise. His badge was about to pack up, but the deterioration had already started eight hours ago. He had no time to lose.
     He carelessly covered the survival pack with sand before he began his slow crawl towards the landing area.

     Niko's voice resonated through the cabin. "They're activating thrusters. Take off in five, four, three, two, one... They're airborne."
     "More sandborne if you ask me," Doc quipped. "Leaving atmosphere in two minutes, thirteen seconds."
     "Prepare to follow them. How much time between leaving atmosphere and the jump?" Zach inquired.
     "Between five and seven seconds. If we want to escape undetected, we can activate the hyperspace drive one second before they jump at the earliest. They need a half second to power up their drive -- we need a tenth."
     "Damn tight time frame anyway. Suggestions?"
     "No way we can pull it manually without Goose. G.V. will have to do it."
     "Heard you, even though you didn't bother to ask me" the AI beeped. "Happy to be of service."
     Doc and Zach snorted simultaneously. "Yeah, yeah, don't go ALMA on me, okay? Just do it," the hacker ordered.
     G.V. bleeped. "Right. Destroyer leaving atmosphere... now! Brace for jump in seven, six, zero!" The unexpected hyperspace entrance pressed all three Rangers into their seats. As Niko jumped back to the console, she saw the red triangle of the Crown destroyer still safely overlaid by the gridlock symbol. They had indeed succeeded in following it.
     "Damn! That sucker had precomputed the jump!" Doc exclaimed, slapping the back of his chair for emphasis. "They must be in a mighty hurry in there."
     "Same as us, Doc. Same as us."
    
     Both hands braced against the corridor wall, Goose panted. He couldn't help himself; the heat in the trooper uniform was just too stifling. He burned from the inside out, and there was not enough air under the damn helmet.
     He didn't even see it coming. His body a sudden dead weight, he glided gently, almost gracefully, to the floor. He didn't wake up as a group of troopers on sentry duty found him one hour later.

     "Where the heck are we? I'm sure I've never heard of this outpost before."
     "I don't suppose anyone who has has lived long enough to tell the tale, Doc," Zach remarked dryly. "Let's hope we will."
     Niko looked over her shoulder and shifted uncomfortably inside her trooper uniform. "Let's get going. They are going to notice that missing ship soon."
     "Okay. Niko, you lead the way. If anyone can locate Goose, it's you. Or Doc," he added, "provided we find one of those damned terminals."
     The three shadows hurried along the corridor, almost one with the wall. They were driven by many things -- among them friendship, resolve, and instinct. Not just instinct, but the finely honed, razor-sharp awareness and stealth of one of the best combat units in the galaxy. Each of them a deadly weapon in their own right. Each of them bearing a very personal grudge.
     "There must be a terminal here somewhere," Doc muttered. "I'm starting to get bored."
     Niko frowned. She didn't want to activate her badge just to get her bearings, but it seemed the quickest way to locate Goose. She hoped it wasn't already too late; flattening herself against the wall, she motioned to the others to stop. As Zachary came to a halt next to her, imitating her previous motions, she touched her badge. Despite having seen it countless times before, both men watched in admiration as her green pupils darkened, then dilated and exploded with violet light. Awareness coalesced and focused, until it almost crystallized. The wounded wolf that was their teammate shivered softly in his sleep as, for a split second, the cell filled with the warmth of a well-known presence. Then the violet light died, and the cell was cold once more.
     Niko sagged a little against the wall, cold fury in her gaze.
     "I know where they're keeping him. I don't know how we'll ever get him out of there, but we'll manage." Pressing a hand against the wall, she straightened and looked at Zach. "Come on. We don't have much time left."
     They continued the fast advance through the labyrinth of corridors, taking only minimal precautions. The high-security detention block was close, the entrance controlled by three high-standard, independent AI's -- a challenge for the best hacker.
     The moment they halted just short of the last corner, Hartford had already retrieved his data unit, dark fingers brushing the badge in a careless gesture. Bare seconds later the tweakers were swarming around him like so many agitated fireflies, each tiny voice demanding to be given the most challenging task.
     Zach and Niko ignored them and focused on securing the area instead.
     "No guards," Zach muttered, peeking around the corner. "Either they have a serious shortage of security personnel around here, or too much faith in their AI's."
     "Or this is a trap, because they figured out Goose wouldn't have come alone" Niko replied. "But I should have sensed as much. I have a feeling their attention is focused on something else -- and Goose is too badly injured to be a threat."
     "Still..."
     "No." Niko shook her head. "There's something else behind this. Goose is the only prisoner here, and this is the only detention block. I couldn't even sense one psychocyrystallization unit throughout the whole station." She shifted for a better look at the massive lock on the door. "This is not your usual Crown base..."
     She stopped to look at Hartford, who was busy conversing with the four programs he expected to thwart the best security the Crown had to offer.
     "Now, now. Be still and listen to the Doctor, will you?" Hartford admonished. "Tripwire, you go in and take care of the security -- replace the access codes, but circumvent any links to the main system. I don't want any of this to spill over into the net. Firefly -- you run the personality changing routines. Keep the top behavioral layers intact, though. We don't want people to notice, do we? Now go."
     As he turned to the other two tweakers, those had already resorted to their habitual high-pitched whining.
     "Doc, we want something to do! Those two always get to have all the fun!"
     "You want fun?" He eyed them mischievously. "All right... you get fun - go in and contravene any sidestepping attempts of those AIs. Try not to hinder the others too much, though."
     As soon as the tweakers had left, Doc found himself cornered by both Zach and Niko. He sighed over the distraction as he kept instructing his tweakers over the mind link his implant provided.
     "How long?" Niko inquired. Usually it was Zach who grew impatient, but this mission had her on edge, while the Captain had displayed remarkable calm until now.
     "Without further distractions, you mean?" He smiled at her, regardless of her answering frown. "Five minutes, maybe six. Keep prepared."
     They did. As the massive door glided open with a subdued hiss, the three were already around the corner and accelerating. Doc kept the unit like a shield in front of him, his attention focused on the changing patterns inside the blue tetrahedron. Unlike Zach and Niko, he didn't notice the gloomy darkness of the corridor, or the musty smell that indicated faulty air circulation.
     "Niko, which door?"
     "Twenty-seventh on the left." Having already reached the entrance in question, she threw him an impatient look.
     Tripwire, unlock and deactivate field.
     The metal board bucked slightly, then slid open. Throwing caution to the winds, Niko almost flew through the opening as soon as it was wide enough to allow her passage. Zach cursed and followed her as soon as the gap widened enough to accommodate his broader frame, pointing his gun towards the musty darkness of the cell.
     Still mentally controlling the tweakers, Doc followed at a more leisurely pace.
     "Shane." Niko's murmur confirmed that it was their teammate laying on the empty metal floor, unconscious and disfigured by what looked like a series of very nasty burns. As soon as his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, Zach noticed the loss of hair, resulting in bald patches all over Shane's head, the alarming flatness of his breath. The implant must have been milked of every last shred of energy it contained. It was probably the sole reason why they had left it untouched.
     He crouched next to Niko and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Niko, we have to recharge his implant." As she looked up at him with troubled eyes, he sighed. "One of us has to transfer his charge. It can't be Doc, because we can't get out of here without him. It can't be me, because we might need my firepower. We might need your projections too, but here we need brute force more than your powers, so it has to be you."
     "Yes." She nodded. "It has to be me, so let's not waste any time."
     Laying a hand on Goose's badge, she touched the other to her own, allowing the energy to seep through the organic link. Activated by her touch, Goose's implant immediately started to use the steady flow of energy she provided, putting it to work on the horrible alterations his body had suffered.
     Minutes passed and the foreign implant still kept siphoning her charge, although the external signs of radiation had almost disappeared. She could only guess at the extent of the internal damage.
     As the flow flickered and then died, he reacted. A flutter of lids, a deep intake of breath, and he was there. She almost sobbed in joy as that green gaze zeroed in on her, showing no trace of the disorientation and weakness one should have expected. She resisted the impulse of hugging him after Doc and Zach helped him to his feet, more out of instinct than out of necessity, since the fast recovery had his habitual fluid grace fully restored.
     "Thank you, guys." A quick easy smile and a slow wink for Niko, who smiled mistily back at him. Then he turned to the men. "Time to ride into the sunset..."
     With that he turned toward the entrance, sparing only a perfunctory look for his former prison. He grinned as Doc and Zach simultaneously slapped him on the back with male approval. It was Doc who voiced their feelings.
     "It's good to have you back, my Goose man. Damn good to have you back. Oh, by the way -- here's your uniform." Holding out a smaller package, he grinned. "Underwear, too."
     Eyeing the black trooper suit with misgivings, Goose finally snatched it out of Doc's hand with a disgusted snort. Then he eyed the underwear. Definitely white -- definitely out of his own locker on board Ranger One.
     "You're too kind. Was it your idea?"
     "It was mine, actually," Zach replied, unruffled. After a short survey of his own torn and bloodied uniform Goose shrugged, then pulled his badge off and handed it to Niko, who stood closest to him.
     "Hold it." He ripped open the remains of his shirt, then proceeded to efficiently undo his belt buckle. He pretended not to notice that Niko stared transfixed at the expanse of naked chest he had uncovered, searching for wounds, he knew. But not only.
     She caught his gaze and blushed, looking away. He smiled devilishly at the back of her head, ignoring Zach and Doc, who, in turn, ignored his current state of undress.
     "You don't have to turn away, you know," he whispered. His breath brushed her ear, sending frissons down her spine. She didn't think the remark deserved an answer -- especially since she had told herself the same thing a scant second ago.
     Zach, who couldn't help his enhanced hearing, grinned. He remembered being like that a long time ago -- a happier time. Engrossed in communication with Firefly once again, Doc didn't notice, which was just as well, old gossip that he was.
     Niko almost yelped as a hand sneaked down from above and gently dislodged the death grip she had on Goose's badge. Furious, she turned to face him, forgetting he still held the badge, and her trembling fingers. The realization shook her anew, the fact that he was alive after all, his fingers warm with vibrant life, his body no less so.
     He grinned rakishly down at her as he gently disengaged his hands from hers and brushed a stray tendril behind her ear.
     "Thank you," he murmured, then held the badge up as she looked blankly up at him. His voice when he spoke next was again loud enough to startle even Doc.
     "Weapons?" he inquired, holding out a demanding hand. Doc fumbled absently in his bag, drawing two blasters out. He threw them in Goose's general direction, who caught them and inspected them with admiration for a second.
     "Bad," he finally agreed, grinning with satisfaction. "Let's go."

     "How did you get in here anyway?" Goose inquired.
     Zach frowned at him. "What do you think? We stole a ship. Light freighter, not easily missed. There's a whole damned shipyard down there."
     Niko nodded. "Yes, I still wonder what for. It's not as if this were a strategically important location -- we're in the middle of nowhere."
     Goose shook his head as if to clear it. "Yes, something fishy is definitely going on. I mean, the Queen sacrificed half of her army down on that planet -- and no slaves this time. They must have been searching for something big -- an operation of this size makes no sense otherwise."
     "But you don't know what that something was?" Zach inquired.
     "I don't have a damn clue -- there was not the faintest trace of communication -- not even when they finally dug it up. I couldn't see it, but it can't be big. And whatever it was, it came here with the same transport I was on."
     Doc, who was being dragged along by Zach, looked up from the interface and dug in his heels. "Wait a moment. Tripwire has found something."
     "What is it, Doc?"
     "A setup for a series of tests -- high security, very strong isolation fields. I haven't seen that kind of precautions for any other experiment. Ever." He cocked his head to the side to better understand Tripwire's chirping tones.
     "Something about an artifact and altering the time constant... What time constant? There is no time constant -- time is relative. What?"
     The others looked strangely at him.
     "Tripwire isn't making much sense right now," he explained apologetically. "He's mumbling something about probability levels and coherence, and splitting time up into threads, then choosing one and restoring it to probability one ..." His head jerked up, face livid. Niko rushed to sustain him. "Oh, my God! Did you hear what I just said?"
     Gooseman's face was grim, Zach's no less so. "Yes. Physics isn't my strongest suit, but this means we stay."
     "And blow the place up if there is no alternative," Gooseman added.
     Niko shuddered. If they really had to blow the station up, they were probably going to be on it when it happened. "Better yet, we get that artifact and leave here in one piece," she announced.
     Doc's nod indicated he agreed wholeheartedly. "No problem with sacrificing myself while saving the known universe, but I'd rather avoid it if possible." He held up the unit, at the center of which a tiny hologram was flickering in and out of focus, and motioned for the others to come over. "Video data fresh from the labs. Let's have a look, shall we?"
     The small holographic display showed a bunch of lab assistants carefully circling a zero gravity unit inside of which two objects were floating -- one that looked like an ordinary flower pot, and a standard-issue blaster. The head of the labs, a small individual with a large belly, placed his hands reverently on an oblong, golden object resting on a waist-high support in front of him.
     "That must be the artifact," Doc whispered, inspecting the contraption that supported the alien item. " Didn't feel like subjecting it to a field, eh?"
     Niko bit her lip, eyes riveted on the artifact that had started to glow gently, illuminating the pudgy fingers pressed against its surface. "It doesn't react to fields," she murmured, attention focused on something only she could see. "I'm afraid this thing is literally out of this world. Look."
     They all stared, transfixed, as the flower pot went out of focus, contours blurring, then suddenly disappeared. The blaster continued to float as if nothing had happened.
     "They've erased it," Goose stated, looking at Niko. "But how?"
     "Look at his fingers." She motioned to the head of the labs, whose hands were still resting on the golden surface. "They don't touch the surface, they float over it. There is no friction, just an illusion of three-dimensionality. The thing over there is just a projection, nothing else. I'm afraid the true artifact exists at another level altogether." She sighed. "The projection is enough to switch time probabilities, though. That flower pot was erased from time altogether -- as of now, it has never existed."
     "A horrible weapon in the hands of a mad woman," Zach growled. "We have to take it away from her, no matter what it costs."
     "Well, but blowing the station up is no longer an option," Doc said. "We can kill them and ourselves, but the artifact will simply float around in space, waiting for the next Crown ship to pick it up."
     Niko smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "So let's steal it. We're probably the best-trained thieves in the galaxy anyway, so we should manage."
     "Yeah, and the firepower is nothing to scoff at either," Goose drawled, twirling his two blasters around in a speedy blur. The determination on his face stood in stark contrast with his careless stance, the devil-may-care attitude he had perfected so well that it slid over him even in this situation, like a protective cloak. "To the labs?"
     "On to the labs," Zach agreed. "The Queen will regret ever having tried this."

     The desert sky was dark and overcast with the promise of rain. The eerie silence of the surrounding landscape shimmered with tension, and the air was heavy with humidity. Electricity crackled; now and again it speared the clouds with almost visible threads of silver.
     Niko shivered as she wrapped her arms around herself in a futile attempt to ward off the biting cold. Brushing a red strand out of her face she turned away from the hill in front of her and eastwards towards the horizon. She expected to see the twin red moons of Umbriel and Yakima burning their outlines through the thick layer of clouds, but instead it was a sole, pale monolith hanging threateningly above the windswept plain. Mirroring the suroundings, its light was also eerie and silvery, nothing like the warm orange glow she had come to expect.
     Partly out of shock, partly due to the increasing bite of the wind, another shiver shook her, this time more violently. She felt sweat beading on her forehead and back, despite the freezing temperature. The air was still and heavy with the scent of rain. Great rolling clouds had gathered on the horizon in a black front -- there, where the storm already raged. It should have made some noise by now, but there was no distant howling, just a silent struggle between the thundering masses of swirling menace and the sparse vegetation.
     The same strange, suffocating silence reigned inside her head.
     "Niko? You here?" She winced at the unexpected sound of her name, unbearably loud in the unnatural silence. The touch on her shoulder was oddly familiar, though, and cherished. Fully expecting an equally familiar face, Niko turned to the green, slightly amused gaze of a blond stranger. And he didn't look amused up close -- only his lips curved ever so slightly while the expression in his eyes was challenging, both dangerous and wary.
     Judging by the way his massive frame towered over her, his chest almost touching her face in a clear territorial claim, she should have panicked -- the instant rush of reassurance his presence triggered, so contrary to her instincts, startled her.
     "I warned you. So I guess you didn't want to hear," he remarked in a husky baritone that sent tremors of recognition down her spine. He sounded only mildly annoyed, and at the same time strangely satisfied. As he raised his hand to slowly cup her cheek she stared into his eyes, mesmerized. Impossibly deep, the color in the green pools of his irises swirled like molten metal. Blond strands of hair fluttered across his forehead, mirroring the storm, and yet the air around them was completely still, impossibly icy.
     He radiated ice himself, and he smelled like the storm -- like wet air and ozone, yet the skin of his palm against her cheek was silky smooth and hot over hard muscle and bone. She felt flushed where their bodies touched -- the rest of her body was too cold to feel.
     Niko tried to think as he bent down, lips parted, but she found she was struggling in slow motion against the steel lock of his arms around her and suddenly, overwhelmingly she was being kissed. The world maintained its perfect silence around them, although the storm continued to ravage the landscape with unrestrained menace and he, once again, mirrored its actions while claiming her mouth. Like a blade of grass, Niko, too, yielded, falling into the vortex of that challenging, maddening kiss.
     The clouds had meanwhile obscured the moon.
     The circle of his arms was a warm cocoon, and yet it had been so cold around him just before... they were no longer kissing, but he still held her. She wanted his eyes to soften, and he knew it, was tempted. And fought it.
     The kiss had triggered memories, vivid images of him, and of her longing. But he had been cold and unreachable, never let his guard down. Never stopped watching his back.
     He finally had, now, because he had kissed her. And because he wanted to do it again, getting that glint in his eyes as he lowered his head once again, for once oblivious to everything but her.
     The deadly flash of blaster fire came out of nowhere, catching him fully between the shoulder blades.
     "What the..." was all he could say as he staggered back in slow motion, and she could only watch as the beam ate its way through his chest, the steaming gash becoming larger and larger as more flesh and bone vaporized. A scream was locked in her mind, the paralysis that had gripped her body keeping it burning there, in her throat.
     And then she saw his eyes turn sightless as his body slowly crumpled to the ground.
     Now the scream finally came.
     It erupted from her throat, long and loud and bloodcurdling, like the wail of a wounded animal. Her eyes were already open by then, although she didn't notice at first. She just sat on the bed, covered in sweat, clutching the sheets to her breast. Her breath came in short, labored pants. Looking to the left she could see the curtains fluttering, partially obscuring Yakima's red shape, Umbriel behind it.
     The moons hung low this night, and, for once, the crimson color bore a striking resemblance to freshly shed blood.

     The enveloping darkness was absolute and soft. Warm and humid, the absence of light gained texture and scent through the whisper of blooms and leaves in the wind. The sounds of Ariel's garden.
     Niko sat upright on the bed, trying to regain her composure. It was a difficult task, becoming even more difficult with each passing night. She had started to hate the dreams almost as much as the questions they raised, the guilt, the feeling of urgency. So many important details hovering at the edge of her memories, evading her whenever she tried to grasp them.
     Disheartened, she raised her hand to wipe the sweat off her moist forehead and concentrated on bringing her erratic breath under control. For a long time, the faint rustling of curtains swinging in the night breeze was the only sound in the room. It enveloped Niko in velvety folds, promising comfort and reassurance against the ghostlike images that kept leaping out of the shadows between the curtain folds or the breathing organic conglomerate around the house.
     He was there again? The warm, familiar voice with its cultured, soothing tones reverberated in her head with a faint telepathic echo.
     Yes. He was killed. Niko was well aware of the undertones of fatigue she transmitted along with her answer through the mind link.
     Ariel sighed.
     You still have no idea who he is, do you?
     No. Sometimes it feels as if I've known him for a lifetime. Tonight, I didn't even recognize him until after I woke up. But he always feels familiar, somehow... dear.
     Niko could feel Ariel's brain activity increase as new paths and possibilities were explored, then discarded. There is a pattern... We just have to find it. Maybe you should consider a deep meditation session -- there must be some hints we have overlooked.
     Niko shook her head, as if the mere gesture were enough to get rid of the cobwebs that seemed to clutter her brain of late. Shame was a forgotten emotion, and therefore unsettling. I can't meditate. I -- I tried, but my thoughts won't be channeled. I get... headaches.
     Even Ariel couldn't fully disguise her shock, and something that could have been disappointment. You didn't tell me.
     I know. I thought it would sort itself out.
     Niko felt Ariel smile sadly to herself. This kind of mental jam never does. You should have come to me earlier, but mistakes are mostly the privilege of novices. You've made few enough in your time here, so I guess you're entitled to some more.
     A soothing wave of reassurance reached Niko, easing the burning behind her eyes, the tension in locked muscles. We'll talk about this tomorrow. Try to sleep a little until then.
     Curling up in a fetal position on the damp sheets, Niko nodded. I will. Good night, mentor. As dismissals went it wasn't subtle, but Ariel was too old to be ruffled by it. The ethereal structure of the mental link vanished as discreetly as it had appeared.
    
     In her own bed, Ariel turned on her side with a sigh and tried to go back to sleep. Watching over the girl every night, trying to lessen something of the horror and disorientation Niko experienced was starting to eat at her, but unlike her pupil she had had enough time to learn the value of patience.
     Niko carried the key she was searching for inside herself -- it was there she would have to look most carefully. Ariel didn't know why the memories, or whatever they were had started to surface now, but she did know they wouldn't go away until all the questions were answered.
    
     The Holy City was, as always, a monumental sight; it rose, pure and white, out of a wide expanse of artificially grown vegetation. Erected during Xanadu's days of glory as the capital of a vast star empire, it was testimony to a wealth of lost technology -- and, sadly, closed to anybody but the members of Xanadu's Circle of Thought. Although the Circle itself comprised only twelve members, the term was also used to describe the plethora of novices and priests of different ranks that populated the temples of the Holy City. No Xanadian had ever had difficulty keeping the two apart.
     Same as every time she came eye to eye with the splendor and greatness of the countless white structures arching into the sky, Niko asked herself why Ariel had chosen the relative modesty of the outskirts over the pure beauty of this city. On such an occasion she also came to think of the rumours that Ariel was the first person in Xanadian history to decline the offer of a place in the Circle of Thought -- she had never felt courageous enough to ask if this was true, and Ariel had not supplied the information on her own.
     "Good day, Niko!" The greetings assailed her from many different directions, and she took care to nod politely and smile, retracting her shields into herself whenever she passed a priest of superior rank. The presence of one of Ariel's pupils in the Holy City was a rare enough occurence to warrant mild curiosity, judging by the curious, sometimes envious looks she received.
     Niko couldn't help but feel a bit relieved when she finally reached her aim, the portal to the great library -- one of the most extensive buildings in the area, its subterranean corridors stretching for miles deep into the earth. Shaking out the folds of her jade green robe, she stepped onto the stairs leading to the psi-field that protected the entrance. She closed her eyes and walked through, thankful that her concentration still allowed this easy feat.
     Lowering her hood, she looked around the entrance hall in search of a librarian. She could have summoned one, but she preferred to keep her shields up for the time being; a new entrance wouldn't go unnoticed for long. She chose to look around the hall instead, deeply inhaling the ever-present scent of lilac which brought back cherished childhood memories. She had grown since then, but she still felt puny when confronted with the huge, sunlit expanse of the hall, white mist obscuring the end and ceiling and diffusing the rays of a midday sun.
     The fact that the mist was artificial, created to better enhance the sense of otherwordliness and wisdom the architecture conveyed, didn't diminish the effect. The place hosted the greatest collection of knowledge in the surrounding sector -- that was awe-inspiring enough as it was, and Niko had dedicated herself to the accumulation of knowledge as a necessary path to wisdom and spiritual growth. Ariel still smiled about that, but didn't comment.
     "Ah, Niko!" The person advancing towards her with a most undignified haste, golden curls bouncing in rhythm with her steps, was the one she least expected. Hands outstretched, she stopped before Niko, head about level with the taller redhead's throat. Cornflower blue eyes loked up at her in undisguised welcome, tiny hands gripped hers vigourously.
     "Dramidis." Niko couldn't help smiling back. This was one person who had obviously not changed over the last years. "Good to see you again."
     "It's good to see you here. I vow, this job is just too boring -- too many crusty old priests in one place. Thankfully, I got to work on the database, which gives me opportunity to evade said priests most of the time." The girl interrupted her monologue for breath, then linked arms with Niko, dragging her along as she spoke.
     "So, what brings you here?" she inquired. "Ten years ago I wouldn't have asked, but with Ariel becoming such a recluse, I wouldn't have expected one of her novices here. Is it true that she forbids you to enter the City?" Remembering Dramidis' volubility well from her childhood days, Niko rushed to answer.
     "Well, you should know Ariel better than that -- she never forbids us anything. She just makes us feel guilty about it afterward."
     Dramidis smiled. "Yes, I remember. She was very nice to me, though. Downright spoiled me whenever I came for a visit. She didn't even scold me for stealing flowers from the garden whenever I thought she wasn't looking."
     Niko couldn't help grinning at the recollection. "Yes, not even when you tried to lay the blame on me. Why haven't you come more often in the past few years, then?"
     Dramidis didn't try to evade the sudden sharpness in her friend's gaze -- she looked openly back. "You know old Levteris -- he loves giving orders. He keeps a tight leash on his novices, and I was strongly advised to cut back on my visits to you. It seemes Ariel has stepped on his toes more than once, so I thought it wise to comply. It was either that, or kiss my career goodbye."
     So Ariel had managed to alienate the head of the Circle to such an extent that he had forbidden his pupils any contact. This was fascinating -- and disturbing -- news. Niko realized that her distaste for politics could in time become a luxury she could no longer afford.
     "You did the wise thing," she finally agreed. "Not what I would have done, but wise nevertheless."
     "You know me -- ever the realist. Give the people what they want and they'll leave you in peace. But back to you -- you didn't tell me what you're doing here. Searching for something special?"
     "Indeed. But the information could be hard to get -- impossible perhaps. You see, I only had some vague dreams..."
     "Oh, then I have just the right thing for you!" Dramidis cut in enthusiastically. "Tailor-made, in fact." She motioned towards one of the archways that opened into the aptly named Enlightenment Sections. "You see, just last week I was working on the scent retrieval system, and seeing how it is all linked to the subconscious image and sound processing algorithms, I came up with this idea to search the database using sensory information from dream experiences. It's all the same thing, really."
     "It is?"
     "Yes. Remember those conscious dreaming sessions? Levteris is big on those." She snickered evilly. "Guess it is because he'd like to control his students thirty units a day, so it would be a pity to let out the time they're sleeping. He had me dreaming up meditation schedules for him. Know how you feel after sixty rounds of that?"
     Niko, who was watching the changes in the search machinery with a kind of fascinated horror, shook her head. "No. How?"
     "Sick. Completely and utterly sick. I would have loved to give him a taste of his own medicine, but the self-preservation instincts got in the way. Another season of sandal-licking got me this post, so I can't complain." Suddenly remembering where she was Dramidis looked around, and finally located her unit. "Ah, there we are. Wait till I show you what I've done..."

     Niko wouldn't have thought it possible, but her head seemed to smoke as Dramidis had finished with her description of her new construction. It had showed once again impressively where the blonde's true talents lay -- that spirituality wasn't part of them had been clear from childhood. Niko's analytic skills were superior to most, and she still felt awed by the brilliance of her friend's ideas. Dramidis had obviously found her field. But still...
     "Have you tested it yet?" she inquired prudently.
     "No, but it's harmless. And it's perfect for your needs -- I don't even need to adjust it. It will align perfectly with your brain patterns and monitor the dream, evaluating every scrap of information and searching the database for connections. If you feel incomfortable, though..."
     Niko swallowed. She didn't believe in fate, but nevertheless providence seemed to have thrown this opportunity right into her lap. "No, no. It's all right. I'll give it a try."
     Dramidis beamed. "Wonderful! I would have tested it myself, but it's even better this way -- now I can monitor you and make adjustments later."
     Niko frowned. "I don't want the information to be accessible to anyone besides myself."
     "Of course -- discretion has always been the librarians' paramount concern." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "I don't know how many of the Circle's machinations passed through here -- all of us are sworn to secrecy. I can guarantee that your data won't be accessible to anyone but yourself."
     Niko rubbed her arms. "Still, I want you to erase the information when I'm done searching. It's very private."
     Dramidis' friendly manner seemed to cool instantly. "You don't trust me?"
     "I don't trust your superiors. Will you do it?"
     "Yes. I won't even have access to the data myself, so no one but you will know what it is. As soon as the search ends, I'll erase it. I'll even show you the logs if you want."
     "I can live with that. Shall we begin?"

     Despite the bluish glowing swarm of nanites surrounding her head, Niko found that it was surprisingly easy to enter the trance. Riskless, too, for she could break off at any moment if the dream became too disturbing.
     Floating in a pleasant no man's land, eyes closed, she waited patiently for the darkness behind her lids to lift. When it finally did, an indefinite amount of time later, it revealed, blurry at first, then increasingly pronounced, a hall that was strikingly similar to the one she had just left. The architect's aim had been the same here: to build a structure that would endure through time, would overwhelm and dwarf countless generations of visitors.
     Her gaze wandered, inexorably drawn to the focal point of the structure: the big, ornate chair resting on a pedestal on the far side of the hall was clearly to be the center of attention at all times. The spot was well chosen; it was impossible to ignore. So were the colors, the strident red of the throne, if a throne it was, bleeding in striking contrast to the darker red, violet and black of the background decoration.
     But where the library had been airy and light, this hall was dark and opressive with sheer size. Even the walls seemed menacingly alive. Looking more closely, she could see guards grouped around the pedestal, as well as lining the walls. Easily overlooked at first, because their uniforms were held in the same tones as the hall, they provided an additional measure of threatening tension.
     The sense of deja vu was only faint, and all the more disturbing because of it. Niko searched in vain for the set of memories to match - as always, she only stumbled upon blurry, cryptic images. But one detail was sharp and clear among them -- the feeling that something was about to happen, had indeed already happened. As she approached the throne, her movements unreal and light, she noticed that none of the guards was reacting to her in any way. She felt like a shadow, there and not there at the same time, observer and observed. And still, no one was looking her way.
     The sudden commotion in one of the side corridors, as real sounding as anything she had ever experienced, reminded her that she was still dreaming, and in control of the dream. The images her subconsciousness provided weren't passing through the distorting filter of analogies and daily experiences that used to render them unintelligible in normal sleep.
     Niko watched avidly as the door slid open, revealing the figure of a tall woman clad in scarlet robes who entered the hall in a rustle of silk. The woman was striking in a twisted way, yet it was the strangely shaped object in her clawlike hands that drew Niko's attention like a magnet, called to her in so loud a voice -- many voices -- that she instinctively covered her ears.
     At the first sight the item was unimpressive, sleek and simple. And yet the woman held it carefully and somewhat triumphantly as she marched across the hall and finally settled on the throne. A motion of her hand, and more guards entered, this time dragging a group of captives along with them. Despite the multitude of voices in her head, Niko's focus shifted to the four strangely unresisting prisoners, who somehow managed to look at the same time dignified and dangerous.
     From her place next to the throne, she looked four people in the grim faces - she only saw herself, touched her own mind in another Niko's body. Battered and bruised and splendidly calm in the face of unsurmountable odds. Experienced, with a thirst for life and the courage to give it up for something she believed in. Her, and yet another person altogether -- one who was not afraid to take risks, one that lived her life fully instead of hiding behind a cocoon of illusional safety.
     The person Niko had always wanted to be.
     The redhaired captive shook her head in an attempt to get the long strands out of her eyes, and returned the malicious look the Queen threw her with superior composure. The big blonde next to her didn't look serene -- he looked lethal. Niko gasped as fragments of her dreams came together and suddenly gained new meaning as she watched the scene play out before her eyes.
     Shane?
     "So, here we are again! Reunited at last." The sibilant hiss of the Queen's voice cut through the haze surrounding her brain, and suddenly Niko wanted to launch herself forward in a mad attempt to prevent events that belonged to a time that wasn't hers--and yet that was frighteningly familiar.
     "I must admit you have made great opponents," the Queen droned on. Her smile was wistful. "I will take care to wipe you out of existence personally -- it is the least I can do to reward such splendid endurance. I vow I wish my troopers were more like you." Sharp intelligence blazed in her eyes with a visible spark. "Then again, maybe not. One working brain at this court is all that is needed -- I rather prefer it to be mine."
     "You won't succeed," the tall, darkhaired captive growled. Despite his disheveled appearance and the already blossoming bruises on his face and body, he still managed to sound menacing. Niko sighed as she recalled the bold, carved features. Tenderness welled, and respect. You always were a tough one, Zach. Hearing a raspy sound from the direction of the throne, she turned her attention back to the Queen, who was snickering silently to herself.
     "I must admit that I was expecting a more imaginative remark -- I can see that you don't share my fondness for the theatre. A universal form of amusement it seems, and so instructional... Have you ever read the one you call the Bard? Admirably observant for a human." The Queen's hands caressed the golden, iridescent shape of the alien object on her lap. Niko stepped closer to better see the sleek, soaring design, the elegance behind the deceptively simple form.
     "'All the world's a stage...' He was right in that respect -- I'm staging my own play right now. But the victory is nothing without the final humiliation of the vanquished. I hope you don't mind my gloating - you won't be around to see my new world order, so I wanted to make use of this last chance. It won't be long now." She paused, letting her gaze roam all their faces once more. "With the Andorians gone, Earth will be ripe for the picking. If you don't mind my putting it so bluntly -- you've lost."
     The golden shape had already started glowing gently beneath the Queen's hands as she dreamily caressed it. Niko felt mental tentacles expand and touch the delicate mental structure of the multidimensional portal, for that was what it had been meant for, Niko realized. A portal through time, operated by telepathically gifted beings. It had never been meant for this kind of misuse, much less by a nontelepath -- the blurry images the Queen's unschooled mind projected could bring the time-space structure of a whole galaxy crashing down around her with temporal incontinuity, as a multitude of possible timelines intertwined and pushed each other out of temporal focus.
     The glow of the artifact was slowly becoming blinding, and Niko felt the rearrangement, felt the other Niko's weak telepathic attempt at countermanding the Queen's manipulation. The shift had almost taken place, causing time to flow along too many paths.
     Through a haze she saw Goose leap, his powerful form sailing through the air towards the throne. She also saw the familiar flash of blaster fire as the yellow beam connected with his body, which went suddenly limp and, still carried by the momentum of the jump, crashed to the ground a scant meter away from the throne.
     The scene vanished in a flash of blinding light, and Niko struggled to free herself for a jump, only to find that her legs didn't carry her, caught in the most frustrating sort of dreamlike paralysis. Her howl of desperation mixed with the ebbing sounds of voices overlaying each other as probabilities shifted in the continual fight for supremacy.
    
     "I found something!" Dramidis was all but falling over herself with excitement, tripping around and checking readings -- and generally harassing a disoriented Niko. "That means it's working -- and working well." She waved a flexible translucent sheet around, on which coded data was still shifting as more information came through. She slapped a thin, equally translucent baton into Niko's hand along with the sheet.
     "Your code," she announced cheerfully. Examining the sheet, she made sure that the liquid patterns had stopped rearranging before she made a series of complicated gestures in the interface field of the terminal. "Download of search data is complete -- your information is being erased as of now. Here -- the logs. So you can sleep well."
     Niko looked at the readings on the liquid crystal surface with her mind as well as with her eyes -- the logs were foolproof. Her dream had indeed been erased. "Thank you. I owe you."
     Dramidis dismissed Niko's words with a careless wave of her hand. "Oh, no, not really. I mean, I got a voluntary test subject for nothing -- I'm a happy girl today. Just let me know if the data was helpful, all right?"
     "I will." She extended a hand towards the blonde, who ignored it and hugged her instead. "I have to go back now --"
     "Yes, I know -- Ariel won't be pleased." She smiled a little wistfully. "I missed her -- and you. Tell her that when you see her. And come back soon."
     "I'll try to." Pulling the green hood over her head once again, Niko left through one of the smaller portals at the side of the great hall.
     Outside, the dawn had arrived, bathing the buildings in a golden-green glow. It was a traditional time for meditation, so nobody saw the slender hooded figure rush through the city gates and into the outskirts with a precious datapad tucked safely under her thin summer cloak.
    
     "What did you think you were doing?" The open display of annoyance, bordering on fury, was very atypical of Ariel -- disturbingly so.
     "Searching for information," Niko replied calmly.
     "Yes. In the great library, of all places! Where every passing novice could spy on you."
     "I was alone, actually. And I got information -- dangerous and disturbing enough to interest even you."
     "Really. And who was your librarian?"
     "Dramidis. I trust her, but I took precautions. By the way, she told me to greet you. She misses stealing your flowers."
     Strangely, the mention of Dramidis seemed to mellow Ariel somewhat. A dreamy look entered her eyes at the mention of the little golden-haired devil who had played in her garden. Dramidis's irreverent spirit and vivid intelligence had been the perfect match to Niko's silent, reserved earnestness, preventing the younger redhead from withdrawing completely into her studies. The girls had been like sisters before... but it was no use dragging up events that belonged to the past. "Ah, yes. I knew that girl would go far -- librarian, you say? Interesting."
     "Yes. She's good, too."
     "She would have been." Resigned, Ariel sank down on one of the pillows surrounding the low, circular eating table and motioning for Niko to join her. "Tell me what you've learned."

     It was too bad that the artifact hadn't worked -- a veritable army of Crown scientists had been dispatched to find out the reason behind a failure that had cost the lives of a huge portion of the Queen's third landing army -- infantry, but still...
     The Queen herself could still recall the moment when so many of her hopes had been crushed, when the golden oblong object had vanished from her hands in a flash of blinding light, taking a few of her troopers and a part of the station's equipment with it. Leaving her behind with red-hot fury that was all but choking her, and a group of gloating rangers on top of it all.
     They hadn't been gloating for long, of course -- and they hadn't been able to escape either. It was a small consolation regarding her loss, but she tried to derive as much satisfaction as she could from it. She would have had them psychocrystallized instantly, but all of her crystal production facilities had fallen prey to a well-organized rebellion. She rather suspected one of her own generals -- he had been dealt with swiftly and efficiently. There had been no crystals on the station -- she hadn't expected visitors. In retrospective she had to admit that she should have known better.
     Anyway, she could wait. Crystal production would be resumed in a few months, and she had enough slaverlords to burn until then. And until she had those four precious crystals, she would take her satisfaction where she could get it.
     Preferably by torturing the four humans that had been so bold as to assume that they could cross her.
    
     "A timeshift... This is disturbing news indeed." Although she tried to maintain the illusion that this was just one more problem she could cope with, Ariel's habitual composure shattered as guilt assailed her in great, sickening waves. The secret was not hers to keep, she knew. She had done it nevertheless, deluding herself all the while that it was the best for Xanadu, the best for the scattered remains of the once glorious empire. How wrong she had been.
     And Niko still trusted her, looked up to her for guidance. Didn't know that she, too, had been betrayed by her mentor in so many ways, by the whole society that had bought their own freedom at the cost of destroying her race.
     Now, finally, she was about to find out.
     "Niko... There is something you should know." Ariel's old eyes were two pools of endless pain, but she forced herself to continue, knowing that her anguish reverberated in Niko's mind through the close link they shared. "Twenty-one cycles ago, when you were a very small child, Xanadu was part of a huge interstellar empire. We had achieved so much, technologically, and yet we were stagnating, content with what we had. Losing the knowledge again bit by bit, without noticing the decay."
     "But --"
     "No. Let me finish." Rubbing her temples tiredly, Ariel continued. "The Circle noticed. Being the real power behind the official leaders, they decided to do something about it. Expansion, in their eyes, was the only possibility. War had proved useful in some circumstances, so they decided to start by attacking the League of Planets -- a remote conglomeration of planets that was young, still growing -- and therefore thought easy prey." Ariel sighed, remembering the years of bloodshed and desperation that had followed.
     "They weren't. When we started attacking their outer colonies, the response was unexpected, and shattering. Especially one of the newer spacefaring races, the humans, had weapons and ships with a power of destruction lost to us. Too late we realized that our technological development of the last hundreds of years had concentrated on comfort rather than military goals. Within twenty years of war, most of our worlds were annexed or destroyed, and the bulk of their fleet was advancing towards Xanadu itself."
     Niko watched incredulously as Ariel shuddered with remembered fear, looking through her with glassy eyes. "We had to do something, or we were doomed. The Circle gathered together for the third time that day to discuss the possibilities -- there weren't many. Then, Levteris remembered a device from a past civilization, that had been used for time travels. We had never been able to replicate it -- the technology was alien to us, and attempts to use it had had disastruous results, so it had been locked away hundreds of years ago, and was being closely guarded.
     "He suggested we use it to alter the time flow, reduce the League to backyard, non-spacefaring planets in one clean sweep. He said it could be done, provided the Circle worked it together, telepathically. There was dissention, but Levteris had always been a gifted orator, so he convinced them, one by one. The threat of Earth's genetically altered soldiers landing on Xanadu was much more real, more horrible than that of a time manipulation attempt gone awry. The brought the artifact in a few hours later, and there it began --"
     Niko wept. She couldn't stop the tears raining down her cheeks more than Ariel could stop her pained confession. "Where were you?" she cried. "Why didn't you do something?"
     Ariel was crying, too. Big, silent tears rolled down the leathery skin, but she continued. It was too late to stop. "I was Levteris' apprentice, next in line for a seat in the Circle. I disapproved, but I was powerless to stop them. And I was afraid of dying, so I simply waited for fate to decide. It did. Within hours, all that remained of the League were a few uninteresting planets without spacefaring technology. Their fleet disappeared, as did the colonies. But we paid a price -- our empire wasn't restored. We had discontinued their evolution, but we hadn't been able to counteract our losses, because of an error in operating the artifact. You see, in using it we had deleted most of our empire along with them. All that remained was -- you."
     Niko sobbed, grief reverberating between her and her mentor with devastating effects. "Me?"
     "Yes. One of the few prisoners we had made on the occasion of our first attack -- on a colony of scientists. Your parents had been propulsion physicists -- they were erased from time along with the others. For reasons nobody has been able to explain, you remained -- a frightened child, barely one cycle old. I felt so guilty then -- I had just only fully realized what we had done. I left Levteris, vowing never to return, and took you with me. In a way, I think I was trying to make up for what we had done."
     Niko tried to swallow the angry words threatening to spill out of her in a shower of crushed trust. She had been living a lie -- it was time to find out the truth. "How come you remember anything? You shouldn't have memories of things that never happened."
     "Oh, but they did happen. The artifact takes those in its vicinity with it when it changes reality -- that's its purpose. We were simply transferred into the new timeline, so we retained our memories."
     Niko had stopped crying -- instead, an icy resolve had started to creep into her voice, her whole stance. She was standing now, looking down at Ariel with fathomless eyes. Her voice was cool when she continued her interrogation.
     "Why didn't you use the artifact again, restore the empire with it?"
     "We didn't dare -- it had almost ended in a catastrophe the first time around. The artifact -- it spawnes a huge lot of alternate timelines. It can even mix them, regardless of discontinuities in the causality chains. The Cirlce chose such a mix and prepared to collapse the timeline so that it would become the new reality. They hadn't known that the probabilities didn't stop shifting once a timeline was chosen -- they didn't react fast enough. When they managed to collapse it, the timeline they chose had altered. Our empire no longer existed. The figured they had been lucky -- all of them were still alive. Nobody wanted to risk it a second time."
     "What about my dreams? The artifact was used again, in another time. Not ours." Recalling the Queen's confused groping for probabilities, Niko paused to think, then suddenly pierced Ariel with an icy look. "What happens if the one using it forgets to collapse the chosen line? Or simply doesn't know it has to be done?"
     "All of the spawned timelines continue to exist -- until the artifact overloads. A permanent time-space rupture is the effect, destroying all existing timelines. That's what the Circle was afraid of. If your dreams mirror an alternate reality, your Queen might have indeed started a chaos of timelines that still exists. If so, the artifact will overload -- in a few days of our time, probably." Niko's icy gaze was hard to bear, but Ariel still struggled to gather her scattered thoughts. She owed the girl this much, and more.
     "The catch is that the one using it will never notice a failure. He or she will simply continue to exist -- probably in a timeline where the artifact hasn't worked -- until the overload takes place."
     Niko's eyes closed for a moment as she pondered the alternatives. "Yes. This would make sense..." Opening them again, she fixed Ariel with a glare that was true ice. "I'll go to my room now -- I have to think this over."
     Although she knew it was a useless attempt, Ariel still had to try. "Niko... I was younger then, afraid of facing death. I don't hope you can forgive me -- but I hope you can understand. Someday."
     At first, Niko was tempted to keep walking, leaving a room where the memories left no room to breathe. But the bitterness was all-encompassing, and blazing in her eyes as she turned back.
     "You were a coward, Ariel. No more, no less. And," she added, almost spitting out the words, "you raised me in your image. If I'm right, this world is doomed anyway -- along with countless others. I'm going to find a way to undo this, and I promise you that I'm not going to take the easy way out the way you did."
     The shush of the closing door sounded loud and final in the ensuing stillness.

     The loud clatter of the trooper's boots on the purple tiles caused the Queen to turn around sharply. She frowned at her own undignified haste, but only for a moment. Then she tried to twist her features into a suitably regal appearance as she looked towards the approaching soldier.
     His over-eager look was discernible even through his mask, and his heavy footsteps had a healthy, resounding quality to them on the tiled marble floor. He was definitely harmless -- harmless and not too bright. Just the way she liked them nowadays.
     She smiled.
     Having reached a respectful distance, he halted and knelt down, head bowed.
     The Queen didn't have to force a testy tone. It came all by itself. "What is it, now?"
     The Guard started, but didn't look up. "Your majesty. We require to know if you want the prisoners executed -- the Corporal strongly advises it, given their record. The risk of keeping them in detention while waiting for crystals to become available has been estimated as very high, regarding their training, and therefore unadvisable. Especially since we lost all surveillance devices in the incident."
     Harmless though it was, lack of intelligence could also be very annoying at times. On the other hand, brainless thugs such as the Corporal were not required to know how important it was to savor a victory after having achieved it. Leaving your enemies one frail ray of hope, allowing them to scheme and plan so that you could finally crush that hope in one delicious moment of ultimate triumph.
     She could see the trooper darting glances at the four slaverlords that surrounded them, their white robes gleaming dully in the subdued light.
     The Queen pretended to ponder the question, then finally reach a decision. "No, I suppose I don't want an execution. But since don't want them to leave us before the crystals arrive, we'd better keep them occupied." She smiled ferally before her voice suddenly rose in volume, startling the already nervous trooper into a small jump.
     "I want them taken away one by one and drugged. Nothing deadly, and not very high doses, just enough to make them dependant. Preferably a drug that causes instant dependence, and a long, painful deprivation. And I want them tortured as well. Go for minor, painful wounds. Nothing like inflicting a little pain to revive the spirit, is there?" she added, almost as an afterthought. The trooper swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously up and down.
     "Oh, and allow them only very little sleep -- just enough to keep them alive and responsive to torture. Administer the drug interspersed with deprivation periods," here she smiled, again, with a cat's mien of anticipation. "- the pain should be excruciating, I imagine."
     Lost in pleasant visions of this last realization, the Queen had fallen silent. After a prolonged pause, the trooper looked nervously up, only to be dismissed with an impatient wave of the hand. He left hastily, the clatter of his boots now slightly uneven while the Queen stared angrily at his retreating back. She couldn't help noticing that her hearts had failed to to slow down to their steady triple beat. She still felt tense and on edge, although there had been no imminent danger and four of her best slaverlords afforded more than enough protection.
     They didn't move as she watched them, the crimson glow of the crystals embedded in their chests faintly accusing. Four faces stared at her from the bloody depths, horror and desperation constant in their gaze, like gaping wounds.
     Ironic that her most faithful guardians should be powered by the souls of those that hated her most. But then again, what was life but an endless chain of ironies, great and small? She looked at them, trying to ignore the reflections on the countless red facets.
     "Come," she said. "I want to see how my pet project is progressing."
    
     Shane looked up at sounds only he could hear and braced himself. As the cell door slid open, the force field dropped just long enough for the guards to hurl Niko's limp body through the opening and then flickered into life again.
     Despite his own battered condition, he caught her before she could hit the floor and lowered her carefully onto his lap for a close survey of wounds, at least the physical ones.
     This time they had added an extra set of tears to her uniform, making it even harder to keep warm in the damp chillness of the cell. There were also several new bruises on her legs and torso, and a fresh cut across her left cheekbone, which was thankfully not bleeding. The shallow cut across her belly was, though only minimally. He shoved aside the torn remnants of clothing, exerting gentle pressure upon the swollen edges of the cut. Immediately Niko tensed and moaned, struggling to escape the questing fingers. Her gaze, though, remained unfocused, her pupils mere needlepoints. So they had also drugged her. Again.
     "Shane?" Zach's voice, so different from his usual energetic tone, cut through the icy rage that burned like acid in the younger man's stomach. "How is she?"
     "She's out." The ST gritted his teeth in frustration. "They've drugged her again, and I don't know how much more of that she can take. Last time they brought her in she used to get that strange look in her eyes whenever she saw me."
     He looked at Doc, who lay slumped in a corner, and then back at Zach, who was struggling to sit up but failing miserably. Given the fact that half of the Captain's body was bionic, it boiled down to a serious coordination problem. Drug-induced, if he was right.
     "Don't bother," Goose advised matter-of-factly. "They've drugged all of us. Little did they know that I don't need a damn badge to fend off any kind of stuff they can throw at me." It was a statement, not a boast. Looking down, he shifted and cradled Niko closer to him. The redhead had started shivering, and her pale skin looked almost translucent in the dim light.
     "Captain, we have to get out of here. If we wait much longer, we won't be able to walk, much less fight. Except for me maybe, but I can't get the four of us out of here single-handedly."
     Zachary's eyes were knowing, if shadowed, as he met Shane's gaze head-on. "I agree," he whispered hoarsely. "But we have to wait one more round. When they stop perceiving us as a serious threat, we'll have the best chances for an escape." He followed the ST's tormented gaze to Niko's mistreated body and had to stifle a heart-felt sigh.
     "I know, Shane, I know. But it's her best chance, too. She's strong. She will survive." He didn't even flinch as Shane pinned him with a feral look and almost hissed. The Supertrooper conditioning was slowly taking over, stripping the man of the civilized cloak layer by layer, baring the instinct-guided survivor underneath. Zachary knew the icy menace in those glittering green eyes wasn't directed towards him, and he also knew the ST had inflicted much worse wounds than Niko's on others without batting an eye. He almost pitied their guards.

     The smoke was thick and dark. It stung in the eyes and made breathing difficult, especially for mere humans. The fight was continually shifting closer to the library entrance, staining the once pristine tiles of the central square with blood and dirt. Niko tried to ignore the groans and occasional screams of pain that seemed to come from everywhere and concentrate on the patterns behind the frantic activity around her. Since she couldn't rely on her eyes for much useful information, she shifted the incoming priority towards hearing and smell and tried to get her bearing in the surrounding madness.
     There was the occasional wet thud, the sound of feet slipping on the treacherously wet pavement, or the sickening crunch of breaking bones. The stench of broken sewer pipes was strong in her nostrils, but it couldn't cover the more metallic scent of blood that hung in the air.
     Momentarily dazzed by the multitude of impressions she received, she tripped over something soft, barely catching herself before she crashed to the ground. Wiping her eyes, she had to bow low to discern a wealth of golden curls spilling onto broken marble, partially covering a face of puppetlike sweetness. Cornflower blue eyes stared sightlessly, still slightly stunned, into the darkened sky.
     Dramidis.
     Pain and bile rose simultaneously, constricting Niko's throat. But her instincts, honed through years of not always spiritual training, were still sharp -- the sudden rush of air was warning enough. Niko turned just in time to slam her foot into the descending arm, deflecting it from its path. She jumped back and sank into an expectant crouch, while the attacker surrounded her with the grace of a stalking panther. He executed a few more hits in rapid succession but her counters were equally fast.
     The smoke billowing around them made it hard to see her opponent, but she got an impression of fair hair and glittering green eyes before she was forced to fend off another attack of incredible speed. Niko didn't like the way the fight was progressing -- she had to become the agressor or she wouldn't last another minute. He gave her an opening soon enough and she let herself fall while spinning round at the same time. Her leg brushed across the pavement with uncanny precision and succeeded in kicking his feet from under him. He went down, but managed to take her with him almost immediately. They rolled across the pavement in a mad tangle of limbs, trying to control their spin while searching for an opening. Both were wet from the numerous puddles where rain had mingled with blood and wastewater. Because of her slender frame, Niko was clearly at a disadvantage in such a close struggle,