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"Berevain! Berevain!"

"I'm thinking they might have won after all. At least they admitted their mistake, which is more than you ever have."

"Berevain!"

There were two voices, one nearby, one from a long way away. She could not tell which was which, but she knew someone was calling her by a name she did not know. One was speaking to her, the other was just speaking.

<You will be silent. We are not mistaken.>

A third voice, one as dark and chill as the mountain itself.

"My lady!"

And then she awoke.

Memory returned in an instant. Kats, and the human Inquisitor, and the staff crackling with lightning, and the rush of force that had thrown her against the wall.

"My lady," said the voice. "You wake."

She did not know the voice any more than she knew the face. He was attired as a warrior, but in a strange, almost alien style. She blinked for a moment, and realised that it was warrior garb from a thousand years ago.

"No," he said. "Not Berevain. For a moment, I thought...." The man jumped to his feet in one lithe motion, and held out his hand to her. She backed off and rose unaided. "You are Tirivail," he said. "I remember you now."

<And you will be removed.>

She flinched from the anger of the voice in her mind. She looked at the warrior, but it was not he who had spoken. She doubted that any mortal being could speak with so much anger. "Who is that?" she asked him.

He looked puzzled for a moment, and then he nodded, understanding. "You can hear them too, of course. They are our ancestors, or our Gods. They are arguing in the heavens even as we wage war here."

"We have no Gods," she said bitterly. He smiled, but did not speak. "War? Kats!" She spun on her heel and ran towards the observatory. The force of the blow that had struck her had knocked her clean out of the room. Kats was there, with the Inquisitor.

She came skidding to a halt. A wall of blue force filled the doorway. Behind it she could see the silhouettes of figures moving, as if dancing, or fighting. As she reached forward the skin on her hand began to creep, and she pulled back sharply.

"A barrier," said the warrior.

"Kats is in there!"

"So is Sinoval. Whoever he fights cannot have long to endure. Your lady is safe."

"I swore to protect her! I promised his ghost I'd keep her safe!"

"She is safe, my lady Berevain. Now, we have a war to fight. Our enemies are everywhere. If we are to liberate the prisoners, we will need all the help we can get."

"We? Who is 'we'? And who are...?" One of the aliens came into view, dark blood staining his pike. She recognised a Tak'cha when she saw one, then memory returned and understanding dawned, and she realised to whom she was speaking.

"You are Marrain."

His eyes flashed. "Marrain the Betrayer, my lady."

She looked back at the wall of force, and then at Marrain. She nodded once, and then followed him away from the battle.

* * *

"Then I guess I'll die."

* * *

William Edgars had heard numerous theories about what happened when you died. There was of course the ubiquitous 'life flashing before your eyes', that single moment stretching out into years. But he had always favoured the idea of nothingness - no pain, no fear, nothing at all.

He was wrong, as he discovered.

"What do you mean?"

"I've seen Death."

"I assume that word merits the capital letter. I do not disbelieve you, Senator Smith. Tell me what you have come here to tell me."

"There was a box. It was called the Apocalypse Box. It was a.... gateway of some kind, into somewhere else. Something came through. Death.

"I've seen aliens. I've been in space. I've seen and done terrible things, but nothing like that. I never used to believe in a God or the Devil, but if a Devil exists, that's it. It looked at me, and I could feel it inside my mind, examining me as if I were an insect.

"I was wondering if you knew what that thing was."

"The Apocalypse Box?"

"That was the name I knew it by."

"Four years ago our agents were excavating ancient ruins on an abandoned planet. They found various religious objects. One of them, a Mr. Eilerson, managed to decipher the symbols as the work of a cult that worshipped death, recording that death had visited them in the form of a spirit.

"After a great deal of searching they located the temple of this cult, and they found an orb there, the size of a large man's head. They brought it to me personally. I could see dark clouds hovering within it, and I could feel something not quite reaching out to me, just beyond my comprehension. I gave the orb to a colleague of mine called Morden. I didn't want the thing anywhere near me."

"Seedlings, they said. Objects planted in our galaxy through which they could return."

"I see....

"I see."

"Tell me, Mr. Edgars. Do you think these things could happen and your lords not know about it?"

"Perhaps. If Sinoval were...."

"No. He has no part of this."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. They.... they are angered by the thought of his name."

"Then.... no, they will know."

"I see. Tell me, Mr. Edgars. Do you think these creatures can be defeated?"

"No."

"Nor do I. I can feel them. They touched me, and I doubt that I will ever recover. Whatever they may do to me, I am still a man, and a man pays his debts. You have been good to me, and you have helped me. I know you had your own reasons for doing that, but you helped me all the same. I am going away, but I wanted to repay my debt to you first."

"The gun?"

"You do not want to be here when they come."

"I see. Thank you, Senator Smith. I will ensure you are not delayed on your way out.

"Miss Hampton. My guest will be leaving now. Ensure that he is not detained."

"Yes, sir."

"Cancel the rest of my appointments for today."

"Yes, sir."

"And.... may I take this opportunity to thank you for all you have done for me. I appreciate it, and I know I do not say this often enough."

"Sir? Is everything all right?"

"Yes. I am fine. I just need to.... think about something."

What really happens just before you die is that one single moment of your life is replayed before your eyes.

The woman was precisely one–and–a–half inches taller than him, and perhaps a year or two older. Not a great deal, but enough for a fourteen–year–old. She was wearing the uniform and the black gloves. She fiddled nervously with her badge, trying to make it sit exactly level.

"Do you think it looks all right?" she asked.

"It looks.... fine," he said, stuttering and hesitant.

She looked at him, and his throat went dry. He had known her when they were both children, but then one day she had suddenly gone away. He had learned later that she had been taken in by Psi Corps. He had written, and she had replied.

It was the first time he had seen her in five years, and she seemed to him to be the most beautiful woman in creation.

She came slowly towards him, and he tilted his head, his heart pounding so fast he thought it might burst out of his chest. Their lips touched, and he was surprised by how soft and warm they were. He was not aware of anything else at all, nothing could have distracted him from that moment.

Then he felt it.

The merest touch at the front of his mind, like a tiny breath of wind in his face. He pulled back sharply.

"What?" she asked.

And then it hit him. She was a telepath. Everything about her.... was special. She was different - and not just different. She was better. She was superior.