had apologized for grabbing at the controls and had become very subdued, not meeting Horza’s

eyes but tidying up one or two bits of loose

debris on the bridge and stuffing some of the loose wires back under the console.

Horza told Wubslin he had nearly killed them all, but on the

other hand so had he, so they would forget it this time; they’d

escaped intact. Wubslin nodded and said he didn’t know how; he couldn’t believe

the ship was virtually undamaged. Wubslin

wasn’t undamaged; he had bruises everywhere.

“I’m afraid," Horza said to Yalson once he had sat down and put his feet up, “our first port of call is rather bleak and underpopulated.

I’m not

sure you’ll want to be dropped off there."

Yalson put the heavy stun pistol down onto the table surface. “And just where the hell are we going. What’s going

on,

Kraiklyn. What was

all that craziness back on the GSV. What’s she doing here. Why is the Culture involved." Yalson nodded

at Balveda during this speech, and

Horza kept looking at the unconscious Culture agent when Yalson stopped, waiting for an

answer. Aviger and Dorolow were looking at him

expectantly, too.

Before Horza could answer, the small drone appeared from the corridor leading from the accommodation section. It floated in,

looked

round the mess room, then sat itself bodily on the table in the middle. “Did I hear something about it being explanation

time." it said. It was

facing Horza.

Horza looked away from Balveda, to Aviger and Dorolow, then to Yalson and the drone. “Well, you might as well all know that

we are now

heading for a place called Schar’s World. It’s a Planet of the Dead."

Yalson looked puzzled. Aviger said, “I’ve heard of those. But we won’t be allowed in."

“This is getting worse," the drone said. “If I were you, Captain Kraiklyn, I would turn back to

The Ends of Invention

and surrender yourself

there. I’m sure you’d get a fair trial."

Horza ignored the machine. He sighed, looking round at the mess, stretched his legs and yawned. “I’m sorry you’re all being

taken, perhaps

against your will, but I’ve got to get there, and I can’t afford to stop anywhere to let you off. You’ve all

got to come."

“Oh we do, do we." said the small drone.

“Yes," Horza said, looking at it, “I’m afraid so."

“But we won’t be able to get anywhere near this place," Aviger protested. “They don’t let anybody in. There’s some sort of

zone around them

they don’t let people into."

“We’ll see about that when we get there." Horza smiled.

“You’re not answering my questions," Yalson said. She looked at Balveda again, then down at the gun lying on the table. “I’ve

been zapping

this poor bitch every time she flicks an eyelid, and I want to know why I’ve been doing it."

“It’ll take a while to explain it all, but what it boils down to is there’s something on Schar’s World which both the Culture

and the Idirans want. I

have… a contract, a commission from the Idirans, to get there and find this thing."

“You really are a paranoid," the drone said incredulously. It rose off the table and turned round to look at the others. “He

really is a lunatic!"

“The Idirans are hiring

us

—

you

—to go after something." Yalson’s voice was full of disbelief. Horza looked at her and smiled.

“You mean this woman," Dorolow said, pointing at Balveda, “was sent by the Culture to join us, infiltrate…. Are you serious."

“I’m serious. Balveda was looking for me. Also for Horza Gobuchul. She wanted to get to Schar’s World, or to stop us from

getting there."

Horza looked at Aviger. “There

was

a bomb in among her gear, by the way; it went off just after I rotated it out the tubes. It blew the police ships

away. We

all got a blast of radiation, but nothing lethal."

“And what about Horza." Yalson said, looking grimly at him. “Was that just some trick, or did you really meet him."

“He is alive, Yalson, and as safe as any of us."

Wubslin appeared through the door from the bridge, still with an apologetic look on his face. He nodded at Horza and sat down

nearby. “All

looking fine, Kraiklyn."

“Good," Horza said. “I was just explaining to everybody else about our journey to Schar’s World."

“Oh," Wubslin said. “Yeah." He shrugged at the others.

“Kraiklyn," Yalson said, leaning forward on the table and looking intently at Horza, “you just about got us all killed fuck

knows how many

times back there. You probably

did

kill quite a few people during those… indoor aerobatics. You’ve saddled us with some secret agent from

the Culture. You’re

practically kidnapping us to take us toward a planet in the middle of a war zone where nobody’s even allowed in, to look for

something

both sides want enough to… Well, if the Idirans are hiring a decimated bunch of second-rate mercenaries, they must be pretty

desperate; and if the Culture really was behind the attempt to keep us in that bay, they must be scared stiff to risk violating

the neutrality of the

Ends

and breaking some of their precious rules of war.

“You may think you know what’s going on and think the risk is worth it, but I don’t, and I don’t like this feeling of being

kept in the dark at all,

either. Your track record recently’s been crap; let’s face it. Risk your own life if you want to,

but you don’t have any right to risk ours, too. Not

anymore. Maybe we don’t all want to side with the Idirans, but even if

we did prefer them to the Culture, none of us signed up to start fighting in

the middle of the war. Shit, Kraiklyn, we’re

neither… equipped nor

trained

well enough to go up against those guys."

“I know all that," Horza said. “But we shouldn’t be encountering any battle forces. The Quiet Barrier round Schar’s World

extends far enough

out so that it’s impossible to watch it all. We go in from a randomly picked direction, and by the time

we’re spotted, there’s nothing anybody

could do about it, no matter what sort of ship they have. A Main Battle Fleet couldn’t

keep us out. When we leave it’ll be the same."

“What you’re trying to say is," Yalson said, sitting back in her seat, “ ‘Easy in, easy out.’ "

“Maybe I am," laughed Horza.

“Hey," Wubslin said suddenly, looking at his terminal screen, which he had just taken from his pocket. “It’s nearly time!"

He got up and

disappeared through the doors leading to the bridge. In a few seconds the screen in the mess changed, the view

swiveling round until it showed

Vavatch. The great Orbital hung in space, dark and brilliant, full of night and day, blue

and white and black. They all looked up at the screen.

Wubslin came back in and sat in his seat again. Horza felt tired. His body wanted rest, and lots of it. His brain was still

buzzing from the

concentration and the amount of adrenaline it had required to pilot the

CAT

through and out of

The Ends of Invention,

but he couldn’t rest yet.

He couldn’t decide what was the best thing to do. Should he tell them who he was, tell them the

truth, that he was a Changer, that he had killed

Kraiklyn. How loyal were any of them to the leader they didn’t yet know was

dead. Yalson the most, perhaps; but surely she would be glad to

know that

he

was alive…. Yet she was the one who had said that perhaps they weren’t all on the Idirans’ side…. She had never shown any

sympathy for the Culture before when he had known her, but perhaps she had changed her mind.

He could even Change back; there was a fairly long journey now during which it shouldn’t be beyond him, perhaps with the help

of Wubslin,

to change the fidelities in the

CAT

’s computer. But should he tell them—should he let them know. And Balveda: what was he going to do with

her. He had had some

idea of using her to bargain with the Culture, but it looked as though they had escaped now, and next stop was Schar’s

World,

where she would at best be a liability. He ought to kill her now, but he knew, first of all, that that might not go down well

with the others,

especially Yalson. He also knew, although he didn’t like to admit it, that he would find it personally painful

to kill the Culture agent. They were

enemies, they had both been very close to death and the other had done little or nothing

to intervene, but actually to kill her would be very

difficult.

Or maybe he only wanted to pretend that he would find it very difficult; maybe it would be no bother at all, and the sort

of bogus camaraderie