Extract from The Anile Heir ©2017.
 
I, Ysabel Jehan Howard, hereby assert and give notice of my right under s.77 of the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this book.

In the morning the Press yammered. Something Is Happening.  Sarat kept it brief.  Still collecting data.
 
OK, assume it’s bait.  Stop.  Scan.  Nothing, a few specimens of that wide range of wildlife for which Vaudos is renowned.  Would be if anyone went there.  Hence the national park.  That’s weird though.  Why don’t the bunnies scarper from spook-zone?  The bloody fence.   Stop.  Scan. 
There are no humans.
 
So what’s the trap?  The dear fence itself? The House explodes?  Something explodes. Us, maybe, all over the news.  The trap, we think, is, might be, not that we can see how, we’re being filmed and recorded.  Will be.  Automatic cameras at the House? How can they still be working? The fence itself? We should not therefore do or say anything too outre.  PANTHER in Vaudos is not going to set the world alight.  Of course images can be manipulated.  Here we are in a sea of corpses? Whom have we massacred? Cross that one if we come to it.  Sorg’d have a field day making them Corsin corpses.  Don’t say that word!
 
The CR involves forming a circle around the target and moving in to form a five-pointed star.  That works, so we enjoy ourselves reciting the words in the privacy of our minds. We double up so it’s a smaller five-pointed star, at which point who knows, maybe a chorus of dancing-bears did high-kick across the floor of the Ciletij Senate.  Check tomorrow’s papers.  However, here in dark, dull, damp, Vaudos nothing happens, zilch. Zip a rock into the doorway and make it jump up and down.  Nothing triggered, nothing happening.  Sensors inside?  Well, if we’re sensed, we’re sensed.  Still nothing local. 
 
     Like the other Houses, the House in Vaudos is not large, roughly three large rooms by three large rooms.  Interestingly, it has a central courtyard, daubed by obscene and graphic graffiti and full of puddles.  Re-enacting cleansing rituals is not readily performed in wellies and it was a warm night. People were wearing those plastic sandals with drainage holes in you can get for swimming where the seabed is rocky and jagged. OK, water has seeped through gaps between the stones and it’s going to be a swimming-pool underneath?  How do we get to the cellars, preferably without drowning ourselves.  Obscene reek at the back and it’s not rotting vegetation. 
 
The kitchen table is heavily stained with blood.  The corpse nailed to it is fairly fresh, female and got up to resemble Maya in silver leotard and trappings with a wig askew of black curls.  We are PANTHER and friends.  We don’t stop thinking, that being mostly why we’ve survived thus far.  We therefore have a logical problem with this called 24/7 surveillance.  There has been a ritual murder of an occupant,  therefore, despite no signs of occupation, and where there is a murder there must also be a murderer. Or murderers.  Yeah right, the fence did it.  Pix.  The face can be reconstructed for identification. We wonder if we should just wait for something to happen, but, puh-lease, not here.  Make more sense if it were the kiddies.  Maybe that’s upstairs.  Either they screwed the cameras or there’s a tunnel.  Stop.  Scan.  There is no human life here except upstairs there is faintly something.
 
In the nursery. Three children are seem to be in a sort of time-warp.  The girl picks up a Maya-doll, tears its head off, throws it across the room, goes to fetch it.  Repeats the performance.  For ever.  The boys practise goal-scoring with Sarat’s head. More experimental anmals?  Haven’t we been busy.
 
The guys at the back have discovered a bank of screens and dials and flashing lights in an outhouse, presumably moved out of the way of the fucking water by invisible hands.  Oh yeah and you do what?  Thinkdon’ttouchitdon’tdoanythingthat’sthetrapalarm! Biterbit? Youbet. Screens, dials and flashing lights, no matter how fascinating, find ritual murder beyond them.  I suppose I mean they could manipulate a robot which is where? Is this secret passage time?  OK, this controls the fence. Somewhere.  There’s always a nice big knob obviously more important than the rest. 
Notwithoutkids
WhatkidsWTF
 
Then the fence:
.  Oh – oh - oh this is interesting.  The fence forms a circle a ring, defensive, offensive? Meaningless?  KLUTZESwe’reinacirclestraighten! They formed a line.  The fence unfolded to form a line at right angles. Ah-ah arewebeingpulledintwodirections? OK, little fence, let us try to tune in to your inner essence.  The fence began to sing, hum at least.  You know, like the Throne, popularly held to be musical. We seem therefore to be communicating.  Anyone know what we’re saying?  Friendandally!  Not if it screws half the Army!   The fence jerked suddenly, was pulled sharply backwards, appeared to shake off constraint and curled up again.   
 
The Hokabi team arrived.  Hokabi was pretty boring in comparison.  Its burnt-out shell offered much cover but provided it wasn’t covering decomposing corpses, time-bubbles and wavy fences, the regulars could sort it.
 
Obviously if we have two time-twitches the thing to do is put them together and see what happens.  They’re logical like that.  OK said Karmen let’s just see if we can if we can it’s moving.  I think in fact we just do we not I think we do get me a flight to Fidub can they land at the shrine.  Cho has a landing pad said Faun.  Good good good come on kiddies trip to the sunshine. And Momma.
 
If your brain is still working after all this, you will have grasped that the snotty little brats espied by the lass who didn’t like working at the House were too young to have been Vastulis’s.
 
“Get them to bring a few cans of spray paint,” said someone.  “Imperial silver.”
“Nice one.”
“In the middle of the night?”
“Surely standard issue.”
 
Cioulis showed the fence an image of the Anile Throne.   It began to move towards him.  He held out his hand.  Cioulis! yelled others mentally and physically. He touched it thrown in deep space keep centred whole middle of fucking Vaudos I am travelling oh this is fun! Laters.  Apparently unaware the effort of disconnection had thrown him backwards he said shit! ScrewCorsinisthepointimmune? asked Faun.  Can’t be, said Cioulis.  Must be, said Faun.  They made it.  Cioulis laughed.  It made itself.   Don’t know where I got that from.  Certain.  Whatever they did this not intended. Faun reached the same conclusion as Karmen as to air freight.  Cioulis had another bright idea and showed the fence the shrine at M-P.  Confusion of images.  The word ‘home’. Is that weird or is that weird?
 
IAF loaded two cans of grey paint and a couple of paintbrushes.
 
Vax might have been heard to mutter something about the local tip, but that is the least of Sarat’s problems. 
 
There actually are private showers, in the no-go area, for people who’ve been doing things like crawling around soggy ruins in the middle of the night in sopping sandals and don’t want to talk about it.
 
     “Something to communicate,” said Sarat.  “Been to Vaudos, got the T-shirt.  PANTHER and friends went to Vaudos.  1 to investigate the House and 2 to check out the ruin of Hokabi for nasties. We might have wanted to use them as bases in Vaudos, though since I’ve just told Corsin that I guess we shan’t.  Just patrolling the joint.  3 to investigate an artefact that showed up on our cameras, nature of which still undetermined. 
     They thought the ‘artefact’ was a trap, bait, so were CAUTIOUS, 20 point bold. There seemed no-one around and continued to indeed be no-one around.  They found what they thought in fact was the trap, would  trigger an alarm and refrained from triggering it.  Alarm, explosion, could have been anything from generating all out attack to bringing the House down around them. Or or course they were wrong and nothing would happen.   They thought they’d trigger it remotely just to say good-bye. Nothing appeared to happen.  Eventually our camera picked up a contingent of Corsin.  Here they are hunting wild geese.  To continue ornithology, we were of course supposed to be sitting ducks.  As usual, we’re too clever for them.  Not quite the end of the story.” Picture of silver chair daubed on wall.  IMPERIAL PROPERTY – KEEP OUT.  ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK.  “They entered.  Nothing happened.  They fanned out round the House.  Nothing happened.  Don’t think they do false sense of security but they wouldn’t be human, well a bit, if they weren’t more relaxed than when they arrived. FV also stands for Forever Vigilant.  We are, yes.  We had had of course plenty of time to get organized.  We shot a satisfying number of them.”  Pix of black-uniformed bodies.  “The rest ran for it. PANTHER and co scrammed too, having no wish to confront the entire Third Army, at least quite yet.
     “There are therefore a number of corpses requiring removal or dispersal. If Corsin wish to remove their dead, we shall not intrude. They will of course have to communicate that intent – and keep to it.
     “I don’t know what’s going to happen next.   Just so long as they remember – here I am having a quick babble.  We’re not sitting here gloating.  We’re sitting here figuring how to stay three steps ahead.”
 
Corsin thought it prudent to let their exalted leader, Ban-razit, comment first.
“Send Misa to them with a message.”
 
This is war, Sarat!
Not necessarily.  Countless firefights over the years, just not me to tell you about them.
Yes, well, maybe…
 
The loss of the fence has only slightly dented cool since most of us didn’t believe in it in the first place. (Editor’s note: slavering nutters in Azt I shall get to later.)  There remain more usual fashions of engagement.  There are other things not strictly same old.  We sent her to see.  Now we know.  Plain losing also dents cool.  Not, however, a lot.  If we wish to cause the maximum of  embarrassment, how should we go about that?
 
The fence wrapped itself around one of the pillars of the shrine, crooning softly.
“Quite so,” said Taja, not quite able to keep a straight face.”
“May we expect,” asked Losig.  “Generation.”
“Nothing if not interesting,” said Taja.
 
The time-bubble was a bigger problem, there being no point in bursting it only to kill its occupants, who are deemed alive and indeed kicking.  Sane or reparable are different.
 
Oh look, a car is speeding towards us.  How mundane, how trivial.  The car stops and is surrounded by cats.
“I am,” said General Misa abruptly, “normal.”
“Just checking.  And?”
“I have a message from Commandant Ban-razit.”
“I think if you will just follow us…”
Cats behind too.
 
Sarat is otherwise engaged.  He’ll be along in a mo.  Meanwhile, Maya.
“Ma’am!”
“Maya.  Do please sit down.”
“Long drive,” said Jaizi solicitously.  “Food, drink?”
“Love a coffee,” said Maya.  “Can we get some sandwiches please.”
Jaizi rang the canteen.
“Now,” said Maya.  “You are the bearer of a message.”
“Messages.  First, burial. A contingent of 30 regular soldiers will be sent to collect the bodies at 1600 hours.”
“OK. IAF will be overhead.”
“Commandant Ban-razit wishes to speak with – “  Fractional pause.  “ – you here in front of the Press.”
“Sounds a fun-fest.  Any idea why?”
“We are told it is a question of establishing the parameters of engagement.”
“And you quote.  I love it.  Have you got his number?”
“Of course.”
“May I?”
Maya dialled.
“Ban-razit.”
“Maya ban-essa.”
“A talking doll has called.”
“Darling, it’s simply super to talk to you.”
“Well?”
“4 is fine.  We’ll be watching from above.”
“Do we take instruction from a doll?”
 “Tomorrow at 10.”
“A ventriloquist’s dummy then.”
“If you absolutely insist Sarat call you.”
 “Safe passage?”
“Of course.  Anyone who freely comes may freely go away again.”
“An interesting observation.”
“I am fascinating.  You need to get to know me.”
“Horizontal, perhaps.”
“And dead?”
“You liked our gift, I trust.”
“The fence.  Drop dead gorgeous.”
“You will, gorgeous, you will.”
“Tomorrow at 10.”
“Tomorrow at 10.”
She put her phone down.
“Now.  D’you want to stay or d’you want to go away again?”
“My status is what?”
“Visitor, I think. uninvited.  Escorted.”
Sarat bounded in, waved Misa.
“Tomorrow at 10,” said Maya.
“Can’t wait,” said Sarat.  “Do you want to talk to us?  Or would you rather look around?”
“There are men here who would hang me.  That is why I was sent.”
“Ah. Should I?  Shall I?”
“After there was no choice.  They cannot understand.”
“Others asked for back-up.”
“The Cult,” suggested Maya, “has many sterling values.”
“We did not – do not – approve – licence.”
“Look around,” said Sarat, “see  how licentious.”
“Their practices,” said Maya, “are not – licentious?”
“I may see you alone, sir?”
“Sarat.  Yes.”
At which point the sarnies arrived.
“We shall repair to Sarat’s office,” pronounced Maya.
“Leave us some,” said Sarat.
At last we are alone.
“It seemed a good idea at the time,” said Sarat.  He didn’t say it with a light laugh or a cheerful grin.
Misa seized the thin rope thrown a drowning man.
“Certain things had yet to be clarified.”
“Such as?”
“The nature of the regime in Azt.  Naturally we obeyed political directive.”
“OK.  And?”
“Mad stories from a more primitive past.”
“Which you now know to be true.”
“I have seen.  You expected suicide?”
“Tell,” said Sarat.
“A group of junior officers attempted revolt.  They died obscenely and publicly. I have protected my men from that. Harsh discipline was necessary.”
“To accommodate Corsin,” said Sarat.
“You cannot possibly imagine.”
“Actually I can,” said Sarat.  “If I say others in similar circumstances, you would say not in Vaudos, not without the support of the Houses.  I take that point.”
“With exceptions.”
“With exceptions.  Both of whom are here.”
“I will not admit to cowardice.  Others factors prevailed.”
“Cowardice isn’t the only alternative to extreme, exceptional courage.  But the benchmark is still high.”
“There is also an incident for which I am blamed.  It was not I who betrayed them.”
 
Maya to Sorg: They want to talk.  Isn’t that sweet?
Sorg: You want visuals?
Maya: What else do they want to talk about?
Sorg: Got a few ideas.
Maya: By 10 tomorrow.
Sorg: Aargh. Extra hands would help.  May I recruit?
Maya: Whom d’you have in mind?
Sorg: Ritawa.  Couple of guys he’s told me about with common interests.
 
“This is Zytalis,” said Sarat, “cat who’ll escort you.”  He turned to Zytalis.  “Our visitor isn’t flavour of the month.  Any sniff of trouble, call me.”
 
“Sorry, and all that,” said Sorg, “but I need to know exactly what you can do and how fast you can do it, and I need to know now. You have one hour to make the following holograms.  Feel free to be creative.”
 
 “Misa’s here.”
“That cunt!”
“Doesn’t want to be on the losing side.”
“Maybe he had no choice.”
“Don’t give me that bollocks.  The poor sods over there have no choice.  Senior officers, they always had choice.”
“And we bloody know who they are!”
 
“Excellent,” said Sorg, “and 360° experience works how?”
 
Misa and Zytalis entered the canteen.  Dead silence fell.
“Come to surrender, I hope,” said someone.
“I brought a message from Ban-razit.”
“Misa the messenger-boy!”
“Cock-sucker.”
“They don’t seem to like you,” said Zytalis.  “Cool it, guys. OK.”
“Does Sarat know what a piece of shit this is?”
“Sold us all out for a lick of Corsin cock.”
“Anyone for a hanging?”
Some of them stood up.
“I said cool it.”
So did a number of people.
“I think perhaps,” said someone.
     Zytalis dialled.
     “Sarat.”
     “With Misa in the Canteen.  I think they want to lynch him.”
     “I’ll come.”
     “OK, guys,” said Zytalis, “Sarat’s on his way over.  We all just do our deep-breathing exercises till he gets here.”
     “Meeow.”
     “We shall sit over there.”
     So they did.
     Sarat arrived.
     “What’s going on?”
     “That total cunt.”
     “If you don’t hang him, we will.”
     Electric current moment.  Sarat appeared not to notice.
     “Give me facts.”
     “Group of blokes, made a break for it, wanted to get to Van-senok. That cunt had them hunted down and shot.”
     “Misa?”
     “Them or me,” said Misa. “I warned them.  Someone else betrayed them. Salbitan.”
     “Oh for fuck’s sake.”
     “Don’t give us that shit.”
     “He’s on our side, pig!”
     “OK,” said Sarat.  “One, Corsin sent him to cause aggro and he’s causing it, so cut it out now. Two. Evidence.  Witnesses.  Law.  People are not executed because of angry guys in a canteen. Ever.  Clear?”
On the whole clear, very clear.  Sarat pushed it with the wannabe-murderer.
“Sorry I don’t know your name.  The guy who said he commit murder if I didn’t.”
“Trion.”
“And?”
“Got a bit.”
“And now you’re not.  I don’t do guys who get a bit, OK.  Three. Tomorrow morning Ban-razit is coming here to talk to me –
“Oh for fuck’s sake!”
“It gets worse!”
“He’s coming on condition of safe passage.  I know what the creature is.  I know what it’s done.  I want to see it and hear it. I want it to see and hear me. I want it to go back to Vaudos knowing it’s over, and most of all I want to persuade it to do something stupid which will save us all a lot of effort.  No fuckwit demos.  Also clear?”
“Fucking hell!”
“Can we hold our noses?”
“So that cunt over there’s got safe passage.”
“His status is visitor.”
“Go back with them then.”
“That’s up to him.”
“Then what?”
“Nothing that’s happened in Vaudos will be investigated until we have taken Vaudos and can investigate properly, until there are legit courts to try people in.”
“It would still save a lot of effort,” said Rewn from the doorway, “to shoot him.” Sarat turned. “Garbage disposal.”
“If anyone should, you should!”
“Meaning exactly what?  Your men?” asked Sarat.
“My men.”
“But you got away.  Am I missing something?”
“I didn’t trust him.  Others did.”
Baz said with some irritation, “If he’s got this shit reputation why would anyone trust him?  OK, so many people were playing double, you got cross-eyed.”
Rewn gave a short laugh.
“That is about the size of it. You must understand in earlier years the situation was more fluid.”
“Hedging their bets,” said Baz.
“So,” said Sarat, “if we cut to the chase, he chose the wrong side and did their dirty work for them.  OK, law.  There’s a whole team sorting it, mostly so I don’t have to in a canteen in the middle of the night.  Materially assisting the enemy sounds good, but you could apply that to all the guys in Vaudos, yes?  Maybe some of you here at one time or another.  Enthusiastically assisting the enemy is probably more like it.  Not sure it has quite the right legal ring. We’ve been through the basics.  You can’t be a traitor to an empire that didn’t exist.  You can be a traitor to the human race by siding with Corsin.  Then there’s the sub-plot of threat, terror and control.  As I just said that needs evidence, witnesses, courts.  When we have Vaudos I’ll have a fully operational nation.  From that point of view Azt is an after-thought. But purely military offences are separate from all that. Yes?”
“I should regard,” said Rewn, “enthusiastic assistance to the enemy as a purely military offence.”
“Fine,” said Sarat.  “It still has to be proved.  With witnesses for the defence, if any, who are presumably in Vaudos. In conjunction with this Salbatin. Misa. You go or you stay?”
“I believe I am innocent of – enthusiasm.”
“Don’t you believe it!”
“Wouldn’t be where he is, would he!”
“So?” said Sarat.
Misa rose.
“At your command, sir.”
“Sit down. OK, detained pending further enquiry, not to mention your own safety.  Zytalis will find you a cell. Presumably we can at least start enquiring.  A lot of you are angry.  I understand that.  But there’s not a lot of hard fact here.  So.  After Corsin have gone, anyone with evidence, anyone prepared to testify in court, is going to give a statement to the cops and we’ll take it from there.  Anyone want to say anything else?”
“Yeah,” said someone after a moment.  “The Corsin cunts will have a route, right? Can we line it?”
Sarat grinned.
“Guard of honour?”
“Something like that.”
“Just keep it clean.”
 
“Oh I think so,” said Karmen, “and shall we not tweak?”
“You need to think of it as a stage,” said Sorg, “with props.”
 
“Unusually tactful,” commented Baz. “I mean, that was about what?  One fact, pretty-please.”
“Don’t do scapegoats,” said Sarat. 
“Rewn’s clean.”
“Oh, Rewn’s clean, all right. And I don’t believe they’re covering up for shit.”
“If they really wanted Misa dead, they wouldn’t have staged that.”
“All will be revealed!” 
 
Sarat refrained from calling the head of the legal team at home in bed in Fidub and demanding he come to Carlin.  He just mailed him to say that he was about to be in bloody Vaudos and wanted a legal adviser like now.  Pretty-please, of course.
 
 “We’re going to kill ‘em!” said Sorg at 4 am.  “You may now go to bed.”
“Thank you,” said Sarat.  “Thank you all very much for this little lot.  Might not need it of course.  Yet.”
“Sure it won’t be wasted,” said Sorg.
 
Sarat and Maya weren’t the only ones who didn’t have much sleep.  The guys would like you to look around, said Baz, just so you’re happy with it.
 
            “Don’t even breathe deeply,” said Saban
      “That is it,” said Karmen, “slow shallow breaths stay centred stay cool.”
      “You are?”
      “Just call us the welcoming committee.”
      “Nameless animals, then.”
      There are four of them, Ban-razit, Gilansan, Karda-mar and Sooletin.
 
            This – is - intolerable.
            Always turn tail, said Karmen.
            Imperial flags lined the route (paper, printed in scores, if it rains, it rains).  A billboard proclaimed ‘Forthcoming discussion groups: the treatment of war criminals; the care and feeding of panthers; the role of Sardun in peace; the transition to democracy; equality of rights under imperial law.’  ‘How to use a knife and not in the kitchen’, proclaimed a poster.  ‘Miviaz from Sardun (pictured) will share some tips from her fight against Corsin.’  Cartoon (large): group of lounging squaddies contemplating an expostulating group of officers with red faces, steam coming out of their ears and Cult insignia: “What the hell do you mean you don’t have to call me ‘sir’?”  “But you’re a complete cunt.  Why would anyone call you ‘sir’?”  A  variation had Sarat looking on commenting, “One does not do hissy fits.”  A long banner: Imperial Army – cool, sleek, elegant, effective and dangerous. Sarat and Maya’s graphics of the refuse collector and the cleaning-lady.  Consultation party: winter uniform – get ready for Azt! Illustrated by black fur mitts with silver claws.  And so on.  The arriving Press caught the end of the route.  WTF!  And so on.
     “Expecting callers, Sarat!”
     “You got it.  Corsin.  They want to talk to me.  Isn’t that sweet?  Invited themselves.”  He stopped due to the meh-meh-meh.  “Shut up now, puh-lease! Call it war by any other means. I don’t know what they want to talk about but I can guess it’s to do with our trips to Vaudos. We’re putting on a little show for them, VR look-alike. The guys have had training in this.  You lot, not.  Just hang on to a few basics.  You are in the same old bloody field.  You’re probably bored with this field.  I’m bored with this field.  Still, it’s a safely boring field.  Just remember you’re in an acutely boring field.   Count the daisy-stalks.  Search for the single dandelion that survived.  The sun is over there.  The GD is to the south.  Etc.  Maya and I are in front of you. Just remember nothing that isn’t a normal natural part of a field in Carlin is real. Especially there are no wolves in Carlin.”
      The shadow of, the sensation of, the knowledge of a wolf-pack running through the crowd, just shadows, bounding onto the dais, frantically wagging their tails.
      “Who’s a good dog, then,” said Sarat.  “Who’s a lovely girl now!”
      “No, that did not happen!”
      “How true,” said Sarat.  “Think of it this way, you may be going to watch a really good movie.”
      Er.
      “Don’t we need special glasses!  I think we don’t need special glasses!”
      “You spiked the water, Sarat!”
      “Would I!  Would I!”
 
      The throng parted rather rapidly to allow Corsin through.  As they approached the dais, on which Sarat and Maya were sitting on crates (with of course chairs for their guests), the picture changed to a surround of Sarat, who may be Narulis FFS, sitting on the Anile throne, a lake behind him and surrounded by silver birches. For some reason there’s a golden fence to the left, behind which is a number of bears in Ciletij uniform.
      Sarat once more Sarat in this bloody field jumped up.
      “Our reception thus far has been intolerable. You will do better?”
      “Have you no control over your rabble?”
      “Shouldn’t dream of it.  The right to free expression.”
      “Idiot nonsense.”
      “You invited yourselves here.”
      “What would you like to talk about?” asked Maya brightly.
      Ignored, as she had assumed she would be.
      “Gender politics in Imperial Kadun?” suggested Sarat. “I shan’t say welcome to Carlin because you’re not.  But do help yourselves to coffee and sit down. If you have anything intelligent to say.”
      They helped themselves to coffee.
      “The tom-cats have been busy.”
      “Perpetual motion,” said Sarat.
      “Suppose, an academic question, you defeat us?”
      “You can either run for it or be prosecuted.”
      A truck drew up. I suppose that should be ‘entered stage right’.
      “Puh-lease, not Ciletij,” added Maya.
      Ritawa got out and saluted smartly.
      “Special delivery, sir!”
      Two chair-shaped objects were unloaded.
      Oh no Sarat no!
      “Brought cushions too,” said Varulin.
      The crates were removed and replaced by two Anile thrones.
      “Freshly printed,” said Ritawa.
      “3D printing is amazing,” said Sarat.
      “Not sure they’re terribly comfortable,” said Ritawa anxiously.
      “Can’t be worse than crates.”
      “Your little point is what?” asked Ban-razit.
      “One of my little points is the ease with which we can create.”
      “At short notice,” said Maya.
      Sarat wriggled a little, repositioning himself.
      Galia put two fingers in her mouth and whistled approval.
      “Can’t say he doesn’t look the part.”
      Onefalsemove, said Karmen, youkneeelatSarat’sfeetbeforetheworldalsothepoint.
      Youwilldie.
      “Lots of points,” said Sarat.  “One of them is one false move from our visitors and they find themselves eating earth at the foot of the Anile throne.  That would be unfortunate.”
      “Good for selling newspapers,” said Maya.
      If looks could kill.
      Sarat looked at Maya.
      “Room for two.”
      She got up and nestled beside him.
      “Hudge up a bit.”
      He hudged and put his arm round her.
      “If we may continue,” said Sarat briskly, as though his were not the interruption.  “You wanted to know what’s going to happen to you.”
      “Theoretically, of course.”
      “To keep us in prison surely a valuable waste of resources.”
      “We all think it would be simplest to shoot you in the war you refuse to fight.  Solves a huge number of problems.”
      “We realize,” said Maya, “you’re not used to people who can get close enough to shoot you.”
      “Really easy to push around the little guys,” said Sarat.
      “Indeed we have enjoyed marked success in many quarters.  Shall we talk about the House in Vaudos?”
      “Vastulis’ crew,” said Sarat with apparent vagueness.
      “A clever idea, to murder my lady Vasili and daub it our work.”
      “Might have been if we had,” said Sarat.
      “You can produce her, alive?”
      “Sure,” said Sarat.
      “What you can tell us,” said Maya, “is whom you actually disgustingly murdered.  Because it wasn’t me.”
      Very real, very genuine picture of corpse from House.  People making puking noises but no-one on stage paying the faintest attention to them.
      “We found a lot of things at the House,” said Sarat.  “This is one of them.”
      “You admit, then, your tom-cats have been to the House.”
      “Sure,” said Sarat.
      “Is that not invasion of a sovereign state?”
      “News to me,” said Sarat.
      “And if we provide documentary evidence that Vaudos has seceded from Kadun and declared independence.”
      “Signed by whom?”
      “Vastulis ban-jaizat stoan.”
      “My evidence is that Vastulis is not sane.  He would have to appear in court.”
      “How can he?  He died in your destruction of the House.”
      Just enjoy. 
      “But you of course have his statement, his declaration.  I take it you also have him.”
      “This statement,” said Maya, “notably failed to be heard by anyone.”
      “Territories,” said Sarat, “that declare  independence generally tell the world about it. Vastulis was last seen in Bar-davit at some rally of yours.”
      “That hardly precludes residence at the House.”
      “We’ve spent a lot of time encouraging anyone living at the House to show himself. It’s pretty unlikely a sane and resident Vastulis wouldn’t have protested.”
      “The waterways.  You have film of your activities?”
      “Of course.”
      “Images are readily manipulated.”
      “Aren’t they just,” said Sarat.  “A haunted house story, I think.  Welcome to Vaudos.”
We are all of us apparently in incomplete surround, like a curved stage reaching down to part encompass the audience. The House looms before us.  The plains of Vaudos stretch away into the distance.  The radii of water glint in the moonlight, though not a lot because it’s dirty water. A number of black furry ears and waving tails appear and a speech bubble: WTF?
      “If I can just do the travelogue,” said Sarat.  “Observe the radii of water.  I did that!  Didn’t you notice?  It’s part of some incredibly ancient cleansing ritual Mel dug out.  I just wanted people to pay attention to me and now they have!  Isn’t that cool. We are entering the House.  You can tell we’re interrupting a formal dinner for thirty.  Look at the sparkling chandeliers.  The House was to start with a ruin.  It’s now even more ruined because I’ve been soaking it.  Think fire hoses and you’ll get the general idea…You’ve seen the kitchen. We went upstairs. And in the cellars Let’s have a guided tour here….In the nursery, a curious and vile installation presumably transported there for us from some Corsin family.  Wonderful people.” We are travelling very fast now, skidding through the grounds.  Rats shake their fists at us.  We confront the bank of flashing lights and dials.  “We reckoned someone would come calling if we interfered with it, as stated probably controlling the ‘artefact’, and they did.”
      “Ah yes, the mysterious ‘artefact’.  Surely you can tell your audience more about it.”
      “I showed it already,” said Sarat.  “It appeared to be a mobile golden fence.”
      “And that was enough to spark your mission to Vaudos.  Who can possibly believe that?”
      “Everyone, I’d have thought,” said Sarat.  “It had to be something else.  Perhaps in your world – in my world mobile golden fences do not exist. Some kind of circuit?  Or field?”
      “We wondered if we could use the technique,” said Maya.
      “In time,” suggested Ban-razit. “Perhaps simply a piece of private property – perhaps indeed an expensive toy? – you have stolen.”
      “When and if you produce a sane Vastulis, I shall be delighted to return him his property.”
      “Or his heir, of course,” added Maya.
      “If there’s one thing I know about it’s fields,” said Sarat.  “Fragments of gold fence are not usual.  Ask all the guys.”
      “The Houses are of course ancient, all of them reputed to contain artefacts from a bygone age.”
      “Dancing bears stuff?”  suggested Sarat.  “If there’s one thing surrounded by crazy stories, it’s the Throne.  Yea, do I not plant my backside upon it and a chorus of dancing bears high kicks across the floor of the Ciletij Senate?”
      “Panthers do a two-step down the Colonnade.”
      Various other creative suggestions that didn’t stop some people from musing that the outer and exoteric meaning of this dialogue is irrelevant.  What does he want from them?  Is he getting it?  And of course vice versa.
      “It sings too,” said Maya.  “Isn’t that gorgeous?”
      “Can’t wait to sit on it,” said Sarat.
      “Surely that is impossible.  The Throne is in Ciletij.”
      “That is bizarre.”
      “Where d’you get that idea from?”
      “I understand it has been confirmed by sources in Ciletij.”
      “Where in Ciletij?” demanded Sarat.
      “Casin-ruhn, an atrocity, of course, doubtless a signifier of triumph.”
      “Weird,” said Sarat. “If true.”
      “Dear Varchulan,” said Maya, “please may Sarat have his chair back.”
      Sarat grinned.
      “Of course it’s no big deal in the age of mass production.”
      “Still, it would be nice to have the real thing.”
      “Indeed.  Perhaps this ‘mission’ was simply an exercise in looting?”
      “That’s a really interesting idea.  You’ve seen the House so what was there to loot?  I can’t actually describe myself as needy.”
      “Ah yes, the champion of the poor. Surely in fact this whole farcical charade is an exercise in looting.”
      “It’s a wonderful thing to own property in Azt. Means I can kick out the present occupants.”
      “Absurdity!  After 600 years?”
      “Nobody paid us for the property.  I think illegally requisitioned is the term.  You haven’t asked what I intend to do with it.”
      “I believe make a killing is the term.”
      “Give it in perpetuity to the people of Kadun is the term.  Most of it.  Have to live somewhere.  We thought the Jumesit.”
      “Don’t forget,” said Maya, “not only are we not being paid for this gig, we have no intention of ever being paid, constitutional monarchy or not.  Like AM.  Independent means a necessity!”
            “Should you live that long, which of course you will not.”
            “I am of course aware of in which magnificent ancient buildings on the waterfront Corsin are housed.”
            “You own or claim to – “
            “Yup,” said Sarat.  “Fun this, isn’t it.”
            Careful, thought Vax, only because they just might be mad enough to set the whole of Azt alight.
            “Why are you here?” asked Maya. “Apart from stirring it.”
            “To establish certain parameters.”
      “Such as?”
      “How we can win.”
      “You can’t.”
      “You will defeat us with graphics?”
      “No.”
      “We can keep you here indefinitely.”
      “Provided I’m happy to be kept,” said Sarat.
      “You do not wish to winter in Fidub?”
      “I wish to winter in Azt.”
      “But you wish to avoid unnecessary death.”
      “You call it that. You need to be reasonable. Var-sega’ and Van-senok could wipe you off our screen.”
      “We are aware of the disposition of forces. The RoE.”
      “If we even think you might be bombing us, you’ll be wiped out from the air.”
      “Head to head.”
      “The reasoning does not escape us.”
      “Good,” said Sarat.
      “Erroneous, of course.”
      “I think that concludes.”
      Hang on just one minute
      These cunts are free to go?
      “I gave my word.”
      “How bloody noble!  So they go right back to torturing and murdering.”
      “They kill, that’s on your slate, Sarat.”
      “Just shoot them in the back as they leave!”
      “One reason I’m here, I do not and will not function at their level.”
      “You telling us they’re human?”
      “I don’t think they’re human.  I think they left human behind a long time ago.  So what do you want? They crawl at my feet?  Plenty of guys here who’d force them to the floor.”
      I think, murmured the head of the legal team.
      I’m leaving NOW!
      “That is not the point!  Legal arrest – “
      “That is exactly the point.  Total power.
      “That’s what they, right?”
      “That’s what they.”
      “I guess no-one sane thinks they’d give you safe passage!”
      “Least of all me,” said Sarat. 
      “You wanted to talk to them.”
      “Not a lot.  I wanted to watch them.”
      “Like maybe especially when you point out.”
      “OK, they put themselves totally in your power.  That doesn’t change what they are.”
      “Changes what I do,” said Sarat. 
      “There have to be some standards around this joint,” said Maya.                
      “Arresting total shitheads for crimes against humanity is not an absence of standards!”
      “Except when they only made themselves vulnerable to arrest because they had my word.”
      “Guys have to die because you have some fuckwit notion of honour.”
      “Don’t do lying.  Listen, fucktard, what does it mean if I don’t mean what I say, if I don’t do what I say, if I don’t keep my word.  To you guys in the Press, to the guys in the slums of Vaudos. The guys here.  Ciletij.  Sarat? Oh, you can’t pay any attention to what he says. 2) If you were in M-P, no-one could stop you making a citizen’s arrest.  You’re on private property because I’m cool like that.”
      “You threatening me, Sarat?”
      “Just resorting to fact.” 
      Sarat turned to Karmen.  “Get them out of here before they cause a riot!”
      “If you will come this way I will not call you gentlemen.”
      Ban-razit paused to look at Sarat.  Sarat looked back.
      “Just not flavour of the month here.”
      “We love you!” yelled someone.
      “Good.”
      Maya got up.
      “Lunch!”
      “Thought we just had that,” said Sarat.
      “What about our sacred right to question!”
      “I just evoked my sacred right not to answer.”
      “Your turf, huh, Sarat?”
      “My turf.”
      “As in you could kick us all out and the whole continent would simply shrug!”
      “Would I, would I!  Your editors would be livid. Two things.  One, you’re wonderful and invaluable and save a hell of a lot of time because we don’t have to run around telling everyone what we’re doing. Two, as soon as there’s any action, you’re out of here.  Car-sandis is far enough.”
      “He loves us really!”
      “Are we not superb!”
      “War-reporting.”
      “A select few, preferably chained to a post? I will explain more.  You are not going to get in the way.”
      “Would we, would we!”
      “Symbiosis!  I did biology too.”
      “Ex-actly.”
 
      “Well fielded,” acknowledged Vax.
 
      “Very good,” said Vanya after a moment.  “He has completely humiliated them in front of the entire world.  They will of course never ever forgive.”
      “And they’ll make a mistake.”
      “They’d better.”
     
The point of all that? enquired the folks back home. The point of all that was what was at our necks for 4 hours.  That is the chief reason he bothered to see us. Pause.  Let us say it may prove a close call.   Numerous hysterical screams emanated from Azt.  The width of a chair away and you did not - ?  Could not, replied Ban-razit calmly. Better I crawl at the cunt’s feet?  The more delirious screamed, Traitor!  Would not! One of them descended on Vaudos and shortly afterwards crawled at Ban-razit’s feet.  The waterways are of significance? Rivulets, capable of transporting nothing.   Nonetheless, if we do not believe, and we do not believe, he did that either as part of some ludicrous and archaic rite or to provide a public facility, why did he do it?  Corsin showed an unusual interest in geology and nearly got there.
 
Designed a T-shirt.  If Sarat approves of course.
Does anyone doubt that!
Your approval is required, said Baz.
Love it!
Black T-shirt, silver chair.  WE DO INFLAMMATORY
Mitch: I hope this is not an item of uniform, confined to military personnel.
Sarat: It is not.
Por: On behalf of Dabidans:  Love it.  Alas cannot wear it.   Courtesy of the Dabidan military. Black T-shirt.  Fluffy doe-eyed hadin colt.  JUST BECAUSE WE DON’T LOOK DANGEROUS…Continued on the back. Four spiked hooves.   DOESN’T MEAN WE CAN’T KICK.
And so on.  T-shirt art rapidly overtook the continent.  In some form or other.  Standard picture of Sarat and Maya.  DEAD MEAT.  Another one was Sarat on a spit being roasted. DINNER IS SERVED.   Since these were freely available on line – actually they had been for some time, just that no-one had thought to direct the southern Press to a particular chain of high-class retailers – they gave rise to a certain amount of ooh, ooh.  Ooh, ooh, Sarat’s fate if they ever get hold of him.  The consensus was that B or P would shoot him or that he’d shoot himself rather than.   The larger question of course.  While he’s here in Carlin he can always hop back over the border, not that anyone thinks he would of course.  In the middle of Vaudos he’ll be a long long long way from home.  We hope Fidub does a really good line in bullet-proof clothing.  Of course he cannot wander around the way he does here. 
 
Shana, HSS in Harn, to Karmen: You are observed!  I did think of having you shot but perhaps a commendation may be more in order.
Karmen: Probably not coming back.  Now is not the time for asking about the paperwork needed for citizenship.
Shana: You have met real cool guys.  And the future of Harn?
Karmen:  The future of Harn does not rest with guys like us.  Try Ban-varna.
Shana: That would be in your report if you bothered with such things.
Karmen: No: insufficient hard data.  It is my belief.  Evil grin.  Nonetheless happy to submit a full report.
Shana: We look forward to it. You held it for how long?
Karmen: About 4 hours.
Shana:  He says casually.  No difficulties?
Karmen: He tried once, not hard. Seeing stars somewhere around the Sohenisle.
Shana: If not kneeling at the foot of the Anile throne.
Karmen: The creature is not stupid.
Shana: But he wanted.
Karmen: No, he loves Sarat.
Shana: You got to know him.
Karmen: Rather well. 
 
Who is Vasili!  What is the mysterious installation!  Where is Vastulis!  No right to Vaudos? The fence didn’t get a mention. WTF that about  RoE. 
ot answering questions, said Sarat but since I have been accused of murdering someone, you’d better see her.  Vastulis’ daughter Vasili is very much alive.  You need to ask Corsin about Vastulis himself
 
      “The legal adviser is here,” said Paw, in a particularly colourless tone.
      She had long pale blonde hair down to her waist and wore a black jumpsuit.
      “Wish you’d been here last night,” said Sarat.
      “Evil grin.  My erudition would have been invaluable.”
      “Would have helped,” said Sarat.
 
“Just tell it like it is,” said Taja.
Vasili glowered.
     She told it approximately how it is, then announced she refused public exhibition and got up to go.  Losig smiled gently and opened the door.
     “That,” confirmed Taja, “is Vasili, Vastulis’ daughter.  She came to Sarat seeking to disinform.  Under imperial law she is dead meat.  She asked for His Imperial Majesty’s protection.  That cannot be withheld. Since she is not nice to be near, it was thought prudent to inter her with us.”
     That was Kadun.  This is not.
     “Fidub does the empire’s dirty work!  Since when!”
     “1500 years or so?”
     A lot of people choked on that one. 
     “Any – status she has under imperial law cannot possibly apply in Fidub!”
     “Fine.  She is not a wanted guest.  A small favour to a former pupil.”
     “A what?”
     “I taught Sarat when he was 10.  Bright boy.  Thought he would go far.”
     “FFS this is unlawful confinement!”
     “No,” said Taja.  “Fidub has old laws too.  We are not Cult-free because we give them chocolate biscuits and a shake.”
     “Tell them not to be naughty any more!”
     “You’d say she was awaiting trial?”
     “Somewhere,” said Taja.  “Frankly, she bores me.  I am indifferent as to where.”
    
They communicated with Azt, Corsin in Azt, of course; the unlawful government of All-Kadun was as ever entirely irrelevant.
 
I do not think we need adhere too closely to the RoE.  Then we do get smashed.  I think not.
 
If we lose, we get the first flight out of here.  That too has to be arranged.
 
They’re moving.  Where are they moving to?  Some are leaving Azt for Vaudos.  Some are leaving Azt for Carlin.
 
Here we go, here we go, here we go!
 
First, dear press-fiends, as previously warned, as soon as I’ve finished talking, you scarper.  You’ll be in the way.  You might even get hurt, but that’s not my worry.   Ten of you can stay and watch, preferably chained to that post over there.”
War-reporting, Sarat…
“Ssssh! If you  just listen, you’ll find what you’ll be in the way of.”
 
“Right, let’s talk about two phases:
Phase One. We smash Corsin, we being PANTHER, Sardun, VILE, HSS and the H-W.  That’s the straightforward bit.”
Probably the most breathtaking statement in history.  Sheer numbers, why not.
International task-force, Sarat!
Phase Two is what happens after. In a beautiful world all the guys in Vaudos raise the imperial flag, which is one thing, and mean it, which is another, the word you are looking for being trap. Half the time it’s going to be night. It’s probably going to be pouring with rain.  
There’s also Ciletij. The lawful government of Ciletij will do nothing if certain elements in their military lined up along the border even as I speak decide to join our party. That includes attack from the air. Once they are this side of the border, Ciletij is happy and I quote for me to clear up their mess.  Why not, after all, it solves a big problem for them.  Defo there are Cult regiments in Vaudos who aren’t going to want to be friends.  They may stand and fight especially along with their Ciletij allies. They may hive off to be part of the defence of Azt. It sounds and is messy. There are ways of making it less messy, which of course I’m not going to share.  The bulk of mess is going to be in the north-east.  Two aims.  One is we meet up with the guys from Var-sega’ and Van-senok, Hanif-Altan Mark Two. The other is all surviving hostile forces driven into Azt’s sphere of influence, what is historically Fas-sigree. Cornered is the word.
            And the lawful government of Ciletij?
            Which mysteriously cannot halt!
            Suddenly can halt!
            We are not your damn’ tip, Sarat!
            “Always the sea,” said Sarat.  “Fins, guys, you need to grow fins. It’ll also  get messy in the urban areas.  There are guys on both sides ready for this so a word to the people of Vaudos.  You probably won’t be able to get on line at times.  You might not even be able to make phone calls.  Stay inside.  Read the papers.  If you’re challenged, play dumb, until you know for 500% sure which side is challenging you.  At some point general mayhem will break loose. No-one’s going to be bombing you, not even Ciletij.  Just stay indoors and let the guys with weapons sort it.  That’s indoors, whether that’s a school or a place of work or a theatre.  Anywhere.   I can’t tell you when.  I don’t know when.  I do know long country walks or a few days’ camping are a very bad idea.
From amongst the general mayhem was heard: You can guarantee Tjulsit will not be bombed, Sarat.
Work it out.
Not even by Ciletij!
“The people of Carlin aren’t going to be affected much.  Except around here.  The guys in the village know what to do.
     Phase One you guys here won’t be directly involved.  That doesn’t mean interesting things won’t be going on all around you. Keeping your wits about you may not be entirely simple. You’ve all received training on the unusual, so I’m going to quickly run through what you already know to make sure you know it!  Sorry.   Lots of juicy detail this time.
     Sound is one of the ways humans work out what’s going on around them.   It can be hard enough working out where sound is coming from in normal circumstances, never mind when people like me are playing with all-round systems, synthesizers, distortion.  The opposite of sound is, startlingly enough, silence.  The silence of a country night in which there is nothing but maybe the odd owl hooting and Corsin swearing with rage.  You can’t tell what’s going on in practically total silence either.  Your ears are not going to have a fun time.  They’ll be frantically seeking for solid fact and there isn’t any. 
     Accept no order, hint, suggestion, instruction of any kind from anyone who isn’t a real live physical human you can see.  No public address system.  Certainly not Corsin.
There will also be an assault, a heavy assault, on what you see.  Corsin are not going to get close enough for anything nasty, at least not close enough to you. Slightly freaking images don’t have to be gross.  Do remember there are no wolves in Carlin!”
The howls of a pack in full cry filled the air.
Followed by images more substantial than the last ones of huge golden wolves.
“Preferably it’s night.  They look even better in moonlight.”
Sure, Sarat…
“Ignore anything that is no normal part of the fields of Carlin, no natural part.  Note I’m not saying regard it as a movie.  People can get engrossed, absorbed in movies. Of course you could regard it as a boring movie.  I need you quiet too, so you can’t chat to your mates during the boring movie.  Yawn.  Make daisy-chains if you can find any daisies. Just remember there’re no pretty lights in fields, no music. There are certainly no wolves. There aren’t many trees. This is not Van-senok!  You are not in impenetrable forest.  There are no wolves, bears or lynxes.  Especially not lynxes bounding across the floor of the Ciletij Senate and heavily armed bears surrounding the HQ of the Sivalin Bank.  Nor of course are Maya and I  - yet – entertaining in the Jumesit.  You will see and hear things that are funny.  I’m asking you to ignore them too.
  “There aren’t even any hadin.  Zani and Narulis are not here.  Kaminua and Asyrion are absent.  The floods will be real, talent for irrigation, but they’re happening up at Sta-venon. The explosions you’ll hear are diverting the Gensi.  I’ve left a few things out.  You get the gist.”
“The special effects department has worked overtime on this one.   If you’ve ever seen the sun rise through stained glass you know that beauty is also a distraction  – “
If you have ever what? 
“Take a good look at your surroundings and hang on to them.  Tents, hedges, boxes, a particularly good-looking tree.  Clock the position of the sun.  If it’s a clear night, clock the moon and stars.  Stay centred, stay cool, and stay quiet.  You are a guy in a field in Carlin.  That’s reality.  Hang on to it.”
WTF, Sarat!  Hi-tech war!
“I haven’t finished. As you know, but of course a lot of people don’t, when you get into Vaudos initially you’ll link up with the special forces guys already there who will be among the few people who actually know what’s going on there.”
OK, we vamoose.  Don’t want to trip on the wiring!
Who said there was wiring! The signal’s in Dabida, right?
Vasucula, Var-sega’.
Scram.
Yessir!
That’s it, said Sarat.
Boss-time, Sarat!
You’re not moving, said Sarat.
He turned to B+P.  Get them thrown out, could you, please.  Ever ever so politely, of course.
I think we were just leaving!
            Catch up with you later, said Sarat.
            Hang on, what about Vaudos?
            No, said Sarat.
            Get in from Dabida!
            You’ll find the gallant army of Dabida lining the border.  Don’t want my local difficulties spilling over.  Or escaping.  Same with Vasucula.  Try Ciletij.
            Real coup, said Baz, our brave reporters have accompanied treasonous Ciletij forces into Kadun.
            “Guess we get to see pix of your travels!”
            “I know this will amaze you.  They have journalists in Vaudos.”
    
            Cho and Amida looked at each other.
“The music was released long ago.”
“Can one release the music from the Isles?  Is it finite?”
“Fidub is not a man-made object!”
“Does that matter?”
“We shall see.”
 
Have we, asked Bris, fully considered the implications of ‘Sarat is a real modern young guy’?
It is obvious the images are not real!
The extent to which the little monkey brain knows that when a wolf is coming for its throat.
I do not guarantee I shouldn’t flinch!
Corsin, surely.
Biter bit?
Let us see. Why has he told Azt all that?
Rock-solid has to be what he’s told the guys already.
If he’s told it them. 
I think I see –
Some are more readily confused.  I think we can take that as solid.
 
“A readiness to act,” said Bal suavely. “They should not be lost in contemplating the music of the spheres!”
“He did say – his kind of war – “
“We may assume every word of that was directed at Corsin. Get me every crazy out of it story about the Window you can find.” 
“If there is one thing clear, Sarat does not sound as if he thinks he’ll be dead in the morning!”
“I do not think that is on the menu!”
“Every word of that was directed at the guys in Vaudos.”
“Or of course Ciletij.”
Roll up, roll up for the greatest show on earth. 
“We’re taking bets,” said Vax.  “What is IT, what is the other matter.”