Xindii turned his back on Bliss as she climbed back into her clothes. Her nightgown and bedsheets strewn and disturbed like a Salt mountain range. The personification of House Felstrom sighed and panted, the blow to the back of her head now manifesting into a deep sore ache that descended down her neck and shoulder blades.

'Crying out loud. I know flesh hurts but how have your lot survived half a dozen eons like this?'

Xindii shrugged. 'We are indomitable. It's one of our greatest strengths that we persevere.'

Bliss laughed. 'Countless millennia of evolution. You could have evolved beyond such trappings. Why did you not?'

'I cannot speak for my species.'

'Then give me your opinion.'

Xindii mulled it over, smiling. 'Humans have always been one to aspire. To conquer belief and science. To absorb. But it doesn't matter if you are a pioneer or a baker. At the end of a long day we always return to our families. Our lovers and children. It is these fundamental yet banal ideals that have formed us through the ages. The simple things. A home cooked meal. The embrace of a warm body against yours on a cold night. The first smile of a newborn. The smell of fresh bread on a street corner. To evolve beyond such things is to give up our humanity.'

'But you gave up an option to ascend. To become pure energy. To become a part of the universe and see its mechanics.'

Xindii smiled. 'I guess we didn't want to give up sex and fish and chips. Stubborn to the last.'

'Sex, now I never understood that! So messy. Why would you insert such a grotes-'

'ARE you done, Bliss? Please?'

'Of course.'

Xindii turned about and saw House in her casual attire. A voice then sounded from behind the curtain. 'Professor Xindii?'

'Yes, come.'

A padre peered around the curtain, averting his eyes from Bliss even though the woman was fully dressed. 'We have had a communication from the Brentish Watch, sir. They need your assistance immediately.'

'Well, come along Bliss. It's time to see some real action.'

'The Watch?' she asked.

'The monorail.' he replied, moving his eyebrows up and down.

'Eh, no need, sir. They have sent a carrier. It's on the roof. Waiting.'

'Goodness gracious they have pulled out the stops. Is it Grox Day?'

The padre just smiled uncomfortably.

'Come on Bliss, if you ask the pilot nice you can ride up front and get a sticker.'

They walked from the alcove and made their way toward the top of the Caneche Church.

The Testament skyline was a truly bewitching vista. The industrialization from Katta-meh-geer hung heavy in the light blue of the sky, a battered bruise of red and brown. The sun sought entry, piercing the industrial cloud with razor-like cuts of sunshine, bathing high rise buildings in momentary glares.

A flock of bratternicks swayed to the east, seeking sanctuary from the cold front approaching north from the Crawling Sea. Black weather balloons rose like bubbles, disappearing into the lower atmosphere while the casual drone of some gravity cranes put the finishing touches to a couple of dilapidated high-rise apartments.

Xindii and Bliss felt the turbines of the carrier spin, creating an eddy of wind and noise. The pilot waved at them through the window of his cock pit and the Mapper ushered her in. He belted her in and Xindii then fell into the seat opposite and smiled. The carrier then rose from its pad, the creaking metal of the fuselage made Bliss jump, thinking the damn machine was about to fall apart. It hovered over the lip of the church and Bliss saw the long descent of the building and her stomach lurched. Xindii knelt over and touched her hands.

'Don't look down,' he said 'look out.'

She looked out and saw the clouds. Not looking down.

The carrier made its way over the fields of Kenderstett and onward to the black and silver of Eshreet, until the finery of Brentish revealed itself, the ornate granite of a thousand and so dwellings, the Fiz'Pah tabernacle piercing the skyline like a mythic sword, glimmering; beckoning all to the faith that the Construct will outwit the dark.

The Mapper prodded her to look to the east. 'Nuttergut Hill. You may see your reflection,' he quipped.

Bliss smiled, yet it was momentary. 'No need. I have done what humans couldn't.'

Xindii looked on, intrigued. His mouth prompting her to spill the beans.

'Evolved.'

'And what will you do with it?'

'I have no idea. But that mystery alone fuels my curiosity.'

Xindii smiled. 'Then you have already taken your first step.'

'To what?'

'Humanity.'

'To think beyond each day is unusual. How do you do it? There is no order.'

'One day at a time and take each as they come.'

She shook her head, the wind shrouding her head with the brunette locks of her hair. 'You are an unusual species to be sure.'

'That's why we have lasted. No one has completely figured us out.'

'And I don't suppose anyone ever will,' she smiled.

The carrier turned slightly, unnerving Bliss into thinking she was about to fall from her seat. Xindii could see the rooftop of the Brentish Watch, the unmistakeable W glared on the horizon like a summons. The red neon emphasized by the slow moving clouds to the west. Testament was about to get a hammering of rust rain, Xindii could feel it; smell it on the wind. A bizarre tinge of iron and earth. With high winds creeping off from the Crawling Sea to the north and a black portent of doom hovering over the Emerald Sea it seemed Testament was about to receive an almost apocalyptic deluge.

'It's gone so dark,' Bliss remarked.

'We better get you a brolly.'

The carrier started its descent toward the Watch, Xindi peered over and noticed the unmistakeable visage of Inspector Brick loitering on the carrier pad, puffing nonchalantly on a cigarillo, the wind now picking up considerably. The Krazzi's coat tails eagerly keen to explore the skyline of Brentish. The pilot brought the craft down, the occasional bout of buffeting from the high winds shaking the fuselage, intrigued to know what lurked within.

Xindii unbuckled his belt just before the pilot touched down and did the same to Bliss, much to the annoyance of the pilot who just proceeded to blow a puff of air from his lips and mouth some words along the lines of 'crukking nappers.'

The Mapper jumped to the roof and then held out his hand for Bliss, she accepted. Brick just stood there and tossed aside his cigarillo, raising his moss brows to the sight of Bliss Kia tied to the Mapper's ankle.

'Bliss,' remarked the detective 'didn't think you would be awake this side of New Fold?'

Xindii laughed. 'Well, let's just say detective that she has the constitution of a well-built house.'

Brick opened the door and guided them in.

The Don hovered over the severed remains of Gustaf Felstrom, or in this case, Godrich. The dual roles of the twins had now come to head. Their duplicitous schemes and changing roles had come full stop.

Xindii hurried down the corridor and then remembered who was behind him. He stopped and turned and held her wrist.

'I don't think it would be very wise-'

'I know, Professor. I know.'

'You know?'

'About Godrich. It was the first thing that entered my head when I woke.'

'You knew? Ahead of me? I didn't see that coming.'

She smiled, balefully. 'Don't beat yourself up. It was inevitable that he would meet his demise. She had this planned from the outset. Two birds. One stone.'

Brick brought up the rear. 'She?'

The Mapper held his hand up to the detective. 'I think we all realise which particular garden path we are about to walk up here so let's . . . take our time and, illustrate our findings shall we.'

Xindii looked over Bliss once more and smiled thoughtfully and entered the interrogation room where The Don peeled off some eviscerated matter left from the Sand-Snipe and placed it within a test tube.

'Tatterfox.'

The Don looked back and saw Xindii hovering over him.

'It's the same, Xindii. Dreamurlurgy of the highest order. A controlled and precise kill. Any thoughts that Gustaf's murder was achieved through luck is not withstanding . . .' The Don pulled himself up to Xindii's height and quieted himself, '. . . this is the work of an accomplished Mapper and chemist. Maybe even a grand master. To control dream in such a precise way and use it as a weapon . . .'

'Yes?' Xindii prodded.

'There are perhaps a handful who could achieve that and the ones in Frugalmeyer are six feet under.'

Xindii nodded courteously to his old friend and walked the perimeter of the room and looked at the violated corpse of Godrich Felstrom and then leaned in close to it. The jaw ripped apart. The bared teeth, misshapen and yellowed. The oesophagus turned inside out like a sodden sock, the pink and slimy texture of its strangely beautiful autonomy laid bare, the chemistry of the human body splayed open like a biological firework. This wasn't just revenge, this was rage, pure, undiluted rage.

'This is art.'

The heads of Bliss, Brick and The Don turned their gaze to the Mapper.

'What?' asked Brick.

'Why such theatre? If you wanted someone dead, someone you hated you would watch them, stalk them. Bleed them to death or put a bullet in their skull knowing full well that you were in control and there was nothing they could do. You would gloat; rejoice at the pain and demise and feel that blissful calm . . . this is art. Drama. Someone out there wants to lead us a merry dance. These murders are beautiful, concise. This isn't necessity but passion. This is art. A statement . . . an invitation!'

Brick shook his head. 'WHAT? Who the hell from? The Tooth Fairy?'

The Mapper hadn't heard him, he was lost in an ocean of thought. 'It couldn't be. That's impossible? Isn't it? No one could pull that off, surely?'

Brick shook his head and laughed. 'What a tub of shit.'

'Quiet man,' hissed the Tatterfox, baring his incisors to the gum that it actually made the Krazzi back away.

The Mapper breathed deep and smiled. 'Right, I think it's time I had a little chat with this Pendragon woman.'

Brick chuckled to himself and Xindii turned about. 'Something amusing, Inspector?'

'You're not gonna get close, pal. We've blown it.'

The Don moved forward slowly and coughed his declaration. 'I'm afraid the Inspector is right, Xindii. We won't get close. Our bridges have well and truly gone tits up there, so to speak.'

'Oh my dear fellows. I'm not going to ruck up to her door and demand an audience! We are playing a different game now. I have other ways.'

'Oh, how?' asked the Inspector.

'Through our late degenerate Gustaf.'

Everybody's shoulders seemed to sink.

'Well, I don't want to be the bearer of bad news pal but he's dead.'

The Mapper ignored the banal bravado and smiled.

The Don approached Xindii further 'I'm afraid he is right, Xindii. His memory patterns would have degraded now.'

'Oh, dear Tatterfox, there is always a spare key,' the Mapper remarked, pointing to the mournful face of Bliss Kia. She immediately shook her head.

'No. No I cannot. It is not proper. What memories he shared were his choice. A confessional.'

The Don blinked a few times, trying to understand what the hell was going on or wondering if the late and early mornings had finally caught up with him. 'Excuse me, can someone tell me what the hell is going on?'

The Mapper suddenly seemed to slide along the floor on his heels and put a finger to the Tatterfox's lip.

'Not here, the walls have ears, and the ears have eyes.'

'Where then?' asked Brick.

'Varosium.'

Hey all. Apologies again for the tardiness of the updates of late. Life, as we have it sometimes throws us a curveball. Hopefully, over the next few days we will arrive at some kind of routine. Apologies once more. But please, vote and read.