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"I'll be OK, you know me," said Richards, his skin running with cold sweat.

Hog leaned in and ripped Tarquin from Richards' chest, tossing him over his shoulder to be caught by a mookish monk.

"Have a care, monster!" called Piccolo. "This noble beast deserves more respect than to be doused in your gore."

"And you have a care also, pirate fool, in how you address me. Your friend here has yet to reveal what I seek, and you may find yourself still upon my board." He turned to Richards. "Now, soulless thing, you will learn how painful the truth can be!" He slipped a knife as thin as a whisper into Richards' arm, and sliced.

Richards screamed. The pain was like nothing he had ever experienced, growing in intensity with each pass as Hog cut. The pig-man stood, and Richards saw through a miasma of agony that he held a strip of red meat in his hand. Somewhere beyond that, blood ran freely onto the floor.

"Now eat! Feast upon the bacon of truth!"

Richards tried to keep his teeth tight shut, but one of the mooks played a nerve in his ruined arm, and as he screamed the pig stuffed Richards' own flesh into his mouth.

"Now," said Hog, and his evil whisper sliced through the redness in Richards' mind as the knife had sliced the redness of his muscle. "What is it I wish to know?"

Richards could not speak. He choked on pain and his own meat. His only response was to scream, and he did. But it came out as this.

"To know what manner of beast you are."

"Aha! Now we proceed. Good. Then, dear Richards, tell me what manner of beast I am."

Again Richards felt he would shout his suffering to the heavens. The pain burned through him as a wildfire rips through a dry forest, everything black ruin in its wake. But at its whitehot heart, something formed, a glowing truth, and his voice rang out with clarion purity.

"Truth is fate, fate is fear. All are Hog."

"I know this! More!" Another twist of the nerve. But something had changed in Richards, and he felt this only as a man feels a wound from an old life, and talked on.

"Hog is death."

"Yes! Yes, I am!"

"But you are not Hog."

There was a short silence, Hog's face went like thunder. "What do you mean, 'You are not Hog'? I am Hog!"

"You are a thing that believes himself to be Hog. A phantom, a flicker, like me. You will die as this world dies."

"Nonsense! Hog will persist! Hog is all!"

"This world is a phantom, this world is a flicker. You will not persist. You will go on, but for only a while. Think, Hog. Think on what you are."

"I am pain! I am fear! I am fate!"

"No. Hog is the fear of a bad death and the pain it will bring. You are a pain men hope to avoid. And what is fear, without hope? And all things will die. Hope will die. Then Hog will die. Hog will be the last, but he will die."

"What? What?" Hog asked. "This cannot be! What then for Hog?"

Richards was silent.

"What then for Hog?" it roared.

Richards gasped. "You are not Hog."

Hog grabbed Richards and shook him. Richards slipped in and out of consciousness. His blood pooled on the floor by the altar. "How do you know this? How?"

"The shadow comes," Richards said, and then he was there no more.

CHAPTER 20

Waldo

"It was a set-up," said Valdaire.

Otto nodded. He avoided looking at her, keeping his gaze fixed on the wall of the heavy lifter's second tactical command. The room was plain aluminium and carbon plastics, utilitarian military. There were no windows on the lifter, for they presented vulnerabilities. Instead screens were imprinted into the walls, giving front, rear, dorsal, ventral, starboard and port views. There was a lot of degraded forest here and not much else.

"Did he know?" asked Valdaire quietly.

Otto closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the cold metal behind him. "Of course he knew. That eugene boss of his — it was his idea to draw Kaplinski out. We knew that he'd either be looking for Waldo too, or he'd do his damnedest to stop us from finding him, being as he's the only hacker to breach the Reality Realms successfully."

"Waldo was caught. He was no success."

"It all depends on one's measure of success," said Otto. He opened his eyes and looked at Valdaire. "The others might have done a lot of damage, but most of them died."

"So," said Valdaire, her voice hard. "By your measure then, was it a success, your gamble?"

"Leaving an operative like that working for k52 freed was never an option," said Otto.

"And Chures? What about him? An acceptable casualty?"

Otto shrugged. "There is no such thing, Valdaire. Don't goad me. But one loss to neutralise Kaplinski? Our mission was a success."

"You're a cold bastard, Klein."

Otto stared at her, his eyes vacant in a manner that disturbed her, hollow like those of all Ky-tech, something taken from them. "When you have seen what I have seen, Fraulein, come back and tell me that again."

"Did Lehmann know?"

"No," said Otto.

"Do you trust anyone, Otto?"

He closed his eyes. She looked tired. "No."

Valdaire puffed a breath out, half in anger, half in frustration. "You screwed up, Klein. Kaplinski's too much for you."

"Maybe," he said.

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe to both," he said. "But you haven't."

"What do you mean?"

"The engines have stopped." Otto stood. "We have found Waldo."

Lehmann and Otto requested their weapons, but were refused. Whatever agreement the VIA had thrashed out with the People's Dynasty Government did not extend to them being armed.

The Dragon Fire troops went first, jetting off from the wide bay open on both sides of the heavy lifter. Below them stretched endless taiga, a carpet of sharp-pricked trees wrinkled where a river cut a shallow valley. There were signs of an overgrown road leading to a complex of long-abandoned buildings, a military base by the look of it; a series of squares and hard lines under the vegetation. The forest had reclaimed much of it.

Otto watched with approval as the Chinese established a perimeter and swept the area for hostile presences. They worked with little wasted movement. In half an hour they were done, and the heavy lifter moved over the abandoned base and lowered itself to treetop level, the resurgent woods preventing it from setting down.

Otto, Valdaire and Lehmann rappelled down to the forest floor. The Dragon Fire soldiers were occupied elsewhere.

Commander Guan joined them on the forest floor, distinguishable from his men by his red helmet and rank markings.

"This is the correct location?" he said, plastic English coming from his helmet speakers.

"Yes," said Valdaire. "If Kolosev was correct and managed to find Waldo. But we could be looking at a dead end."

"He has found him alright," said Otto. The base was piles of crumbling concrete streaked brown by centennial rebars rusted to nothing. Trees thrust up through asphalt gone to gravel. "He is here somewhere."

They walked through the ruins, the Dragon Fire soldiers golden blurs as they ran with superhuman speed from bunker to bunker or streaked overhead. Guan stopped, and bid Lehmann, Otto and Valdaire do the same. "This way," he said. He led them to where two soldiers stood alertly, another on a munitions bunker covering them, one of nine such buildings in a long row. Behind it were three more rows, some collapsed in on themselves, most sound.

"A vegetable garden," said Valdaire. The garden had been painstakingly hacked out of the base's pavement. Camo netting held up by poles canopied it over.

"Well hidden," said Lehmann. "I suppose he's got to eat something."

"And there," said Guan, pointing to another bunker. "A store. My men have found many provisions and foodstuffs."