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'You'll have to go to Mute Corp Keynes,' he said. 'That's where the answer lies.'

Kelly's blue eyes widened and her hand found its way into her hair. 'Who are you?' she asked.

The young man seated himself in the vacant chair, availing himself of its vacancy. 'Shibboleth,' he said. 'Shibboleth…' and he pronounced the unpronounceable name. 'Brother of Malkuth. You've heard of him.' Shibboleth extended his hand. Kelly did not shake it.

'Good,' said Shibboleth. 'You know better than that, then. You know a lot, don't you? I know quite a lot too.'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' said Kelly.

'You do,' said Shibboleth. 'Because you're doing what I'm doing, but for different reasons. I've been trying to find out what happened to my brother. And my mother. It has led me to you. You know what happened to them. I know that you do.'

Kelly shook her head. 'Forget it,' she said. 'You're Mute Corp security, aren't you? Come out to check me out. Crude, very crude.'

'There's nothing crude about me,' said Shibboleth. 'Except perhaps my taste in trousers. But I do have extremely good thighs and although man-made fibres stretch in all the right places, they'll never be leather, will they?'

'I won't tell you anything,' said Kelly. 'Please go away.'

‘I’ll tell you two things,' said Shibboleth. 'Firstly you have a tattoo of an Om upon your stomach and secondly you should really turn your face away from the window, you've been under surveillance ever since you left the Mute Corp building today. The fat man across the road, leaning on the lamppost. He's been following you and I'll bet he really wished you'd taken a cab. He's watching you through macrovision spectacles, he can read your lips.'

Kelly turned her face away from the window. 'And how do you know about the tattoo?' she asked.

'You just met your first well-poisoner,' said Shibboleth. 'I'm working with my brother's set-up. It's hacked into the Mute Corp CCTV system, amongst other things. I witnessed your medical. It was disgusting, but strangely compelling. I'm sorry.'

'And I am embarrassed,' said Kelly. 'Something I do not enjoy being.'

'But I am telling the truth. I'm surprised you haven't noticed the fat man.'

'I don't look twice at fat people,' said Kelly. 'It's probably on my file somewhere.'

'We could work together on this.'

'I have no idea what you're talking about,' said Kelly. 'I work for Mute Corp. I will have no hesitation in informing them of your criminal activities first thing in the morning.'

'Yeah, right,' said Shibboleth. 'But it's a tricky one this, isn't it? You don't know if you can trust me and I don't really know if I can trust you. You might be high-ranking Mute Corp security, as Mr Pokey thinks you are. Although he isn't certain, which is why the fat man is following you. Or you might be someone who wants to put a stop to it. All of it. So where does that leave us? Both distrusting each other. But both needing someone to trust.'

'Surf and turf,' said the barman, arriving with Kelly's meal and placing it upon the table with a great show of politeness. 'And I've thrown in a side order of Gambian Bugaboo fish entrecote uambe at no extra cost. Although you are free to tip generously should the mood take you. And I really hope that it does, because I'm saving up for a tightrope of my very own, so I can run away with the circus.'

'Any particular circus?' Shibboleth asked.

'Professor Merlin's Greatest Show Off Earth,' said the barman. 'It travels between the planets in a Victorian steam ship. That's the life for me. The smell of the sawdust, the small dwarves called Dave, and all the confetti you can eat, when you play for a rich potentate at the weddmg of his daughter.'

'That's the life,' said Shibboleth. 'I'd tip you myself, but I think that I'll just keep the money.'

The barman bowed and departed, humming 'The March of the Gladiators'.

Kelly took up her eating irons. 'I'd prefer it if you'd go away now,' she told Shibboleth. 'I'm very hungry and I'd prefer to eat alone.'

'I can understand that,' said Shibboleth. 'And you must be very hungry. Considering how you threw up your lunch in that pub toilet and everything.'

'Wwf?'said Kelly.

'I took the liberty of hacking into the pub's security system, after I'd hacked into the street surveillance system. You wouldn't believe where the cameras are hidden in that toilet. You'd think that Chuck Berry owned the place [17].'

'Come back in ten minutes,' said Kelly. 'When I'm finished.'

Ten minutes later, or it might have been eleven, although frankly, who's been counting, Shibboleth returned to Kelly's table.

'If I believed you,' said Kelly, wiping her lips with an oversized red gingham napkin.

'Which means that you do,' said Shibboleth.

'Which means if,' said Kelly. 'What could you tell me, that would positively convince me?'

'Nothing,' said Shibboleth. 'But I could show you where the chapel is. I could take you there.'

'And I would let a complete stranger take me to Mute Corp Keynes at night? Do I look suicidal?'

'My brother may well be dead by now,' said Shibboleth. 'My brother and my mother too. The vanishing act. I don't know how it's done. I suspect that it only works upon people who are already infected. But it's impossible to tell who is infected and who isn't. Perhaps we all are.'

'Don't say that,' said Kelly. 'I have been thinking that myself.'

'Which probably means that you're not infected. Otherwise you'd be thinking what it wants you to think. Hang onto that notion, it's one that keeps me sane.'

'All right,' said Kelly. 'This is probably the stupidest thing I've ever done in my life. But I'll come with you.'

'Brilliant,' said Shibboleth. 'And it really isn't the stupidest thing you've ever done. According to your file…'

'Don't,' said Kelly. 'Although, go on, give me a clue.'

'Identical twins,' said Shibboleth. 'Your eighteenth birthday. The Ocean Rooms… night club… the billiard-room table…'

'That is on camera? That's on my file?'

'Sorry,' said Shibboleth. 'Everything's on file.'

Kelly shook her golden head. And then smiled a little wistfully. 'I'd quite like to watch that,' she said. 'But it wasn't what I was thinking about.'

'Oh in that case you must mean…'

'The secret is in knowing when to stop,' said Kelly. 'Come on, let's go to Mute Corp Keynes.'

It didn't look any better by moonlight. In fact it looked a lot worse. Even more desolate. Even more urban-decayed.

The guard on the border post was a different guard from the one who had been there two days before. Who wasn't the same guard either. Because they all worked complicated shifts.

'Anything to declare?' asked this guard.