'What?' demanded the Inspector.

' . . . Constable Love was never alive, detective. What essence you have remembered of the man has now diminished. Someone took his face and projected it into Pasaguiel Heights, killed Kiko and Mensch and disappeared like a passing thought. We sometimes wake from vivid dreams only to forget them mere moments later . . . Constable Love is a dream long gone.'

'What the hell are you on about? I only talked to him yesterday.' cried the angered Krazzi.

'No . . . no I'm afraid you didn't, Inspector.'

'Meaning?'

'Meaning, I suggest you get the good Doctor Yau to trace your biology for traces of Xelofremanine.'

'Godspunk, are you crazy? I'm no junkie.'

'I didn't say you were, Inspector. But if I'm right you have been duped. You've been talking to a dream, detective.'

'Bullshit.'

'Think what you will, but I'm right.'

The Don could see the Krazzi turning darker once more and decided to step in between the boiling fracas.

'What the hell are you suggesting, Xindii?' asked the Tatterfox

The Professor slid from the zero chair and walked over to the still corpses of Kiko and Mensch.

'Inspector, I recommend you take their bodies back to HQ. You'll find traces of Xelofremanine in their blood stream to be sure . . . and if you find the bullets in their brains I'll be amazed.'

'What do you mean?' the Inspector and the Don asked in unison.

'The bullets are a work of fiction but they were real enough. When the dream of Constable Love walked through the door the Xelofremanine ignited. Death by dream.'

The two old friends kneeled down beside the Nesscalites and lowered their voices.

'This one, Tatterfox. This one is smart.'

'What the hell are we getting into, Xindii?'

The Professor smiled. 'I don't know . . . but I can't wait to find out . . .'

The pallid corpses of Kiko and Mensch joined the now cooled body of Godrich Felstrom in the Watch morgue. The Don and Inspector Brick hovered over the corpses, hoping for some glimpse of evidence that may procure a path to the killer. Nothing was forthcoming, apart from the fact that Xelofremanine was involved. That, was a dead cert.

Professor Xindii sat huddled over the microscope, testing the Krazzi's bodily water for traces of Xelofremanine. It was an arduous task, sifting through silicon and heesalmite. The only liquid which the body accrued was through condensation and substances used in recreation. A Krazzi didn't need to drink coffee or tea. Didn't need to smoke copious amounts of bramble weed cigarillos. It was done out of habit, because they could. Inspector Brick was admittedly a living stone with a heart to boot, but no stone was the same. Some had loved - hard to believe - some had lived a life of service; married to the forces or the Watch. Worked cases that had driven them to breaking point; lost friends and witnessed heinous atrocities. Driven them to drink and the warm grasp of bramble weed. Just like any human, Sub or Augment or even Mapper. Here, even at the end of days, who was to say that a man, Krazzi or otherwise didn't need a vice or two.

'There, subtle and minute . . . but enough to hoodwink you, Inspector.' claimed the Mapper.

The Krazzi took a deep breath. 'So, what? You saying I was spiked?'

The Professor looked into the depths of the morgue. 'Very probably.'

'So what do we do now?' asked the Don. 'Could the whole Watch be contaminated?'

'It's a possibility. A scary one . . . Where is Doctor Yau, Inspector?'

'Sleeping.'

'I suggest you give him a prompt call . . . Tatterfox, get your best scrubs on!'

The Don's eyes and ears rose in curiosity. 'I beg your pardon?'

'I need someone to inspect the corpses.'

'Then I suggest you wait for Doctor Yau.'

'Time is of the essence here, Tatterfox. You're more than qualified.'

'Albeit rather rusty.'

'I just need confirmation of the Xelofremanine and the bullets in their brains. Nothing more.'

The Don looked at the Inspector and back to his old friend. The Krazzi raised his moss brows.

'That's all you're getting, Xindii.' the Don urged.

'That's all I need, my friend,' promised the Mapper. 'Inspector, I need you to call Doctor Yau immediately and tell him to examine the water supply, tea bags and coffee or any other consumables on the premises. Contamination of the whole Watch was possibly needed to create the fiction of Constable Love.'

'The hell are you on, Mapper? The guy has worked here ten years.'

'No, he hasn't.'

'Why would a ghost own a flat in Sanis-Rhae?'

'Have you asked Bob?'

The Krazzi's moss brows arched. 'Bob?'

Xindii nodded profusely. 'Yes, Bob. Bob in the car pool. Big ears? Makes a lovely crepe? His wife is pregnant with their second child.'

Brick narrowed his eyes, thinking. 'Bob? Does he have a moustache?'

Xindii looked into the big Krazzi's blue eyes. 'NO, he doesn't exist, Inspector. But for a couple of seconds you started to invent a character in your mind, and you began to run with it. That, my dear Inspector is the power of the Kraken's milk. Some can wield it as easy as a pen . . . someone has been weaving a story under the Watch's roof, a fiction you have all been made privy.'

'Shit,' the Inspector said.

The Mapper placed his hand on the Krazzi's shoulder. 'I need you to return to Godrich's flat.'

'What the hell for, the boys have been over that place - twice.'

'The boys have, Inspector. You haven't. You're the cream of the Brentish Watch, Inspector. Amaze me.'

The Krazzi didn't know whether to feel flattered or insulted but just went with it.

'Now, old friend. Scrub up.'

The Don feigned a smile.

Xindii stood the opposite side of the slab to the Don who was now inserting a needle probe into Mensch's damaged skull. It elongated itself through ruptured bone and brain deep into the cranium where it fed information pack to the Dons' terminal. It definitely indicated a bullet wound, deep impact and evisceration of the brain tissue.

The probe then surmised that it had nowhere else to go and the Don decided to retract it. A faint buzzing noise emanated from the terminal. A bizarre whir of electronics that seemed to suggest that the computer was confused to this hypothesis. The Professor looked at the Don keenly.

'You look like a child on Grox Day, Xindii.'

The slim metal of the probe clunked back into the home position, a covering of faint membrane and liquid hanging from its three pincer hook. The Don placed the instrument back in the tray and looked at the Professor with interest.

'Phantom bullets, I hope you are pleased with yourself?'

'Pleased? I was hoping I was wrong old friend. This case just got a lot more difficult. A killer who can slay a block away with a passing thought. No leads . . . three dead. Nothing.'

The Don pulled the top button of his tunic down, nodding to the body of Kiko behind. When they had started the autopsy it had taken an electrical charge to separate their hands, still clasped together in murder; from womb to death.

'And Kiko?'

The Professor looked at her. 'Let her sleep, I imagine the diagnosis will be identical.'

Xindii took his thoughts into the shaded dark of the morgue while The Don wiped the probe down with water and antiseptic. Once done he joined the Professor in the cool dark.

'We will solve this, Xindii.'

'You always had a misplaced hope in people, Tatterfox.'

'Perhaps I have always been naïve. But I know a good man when I see one.'

'Kiko and Mensch will not be the last. This killer has a power that it still can't comprehend. There will be more before the end and I stand here . . . directionless.'

The Tatterfox placed a paw on the Mapper's shoulder. 'We, stand here directionless.'

The two friends laughed together.

'You'll think of something, Xindii.'

'I hope you are right, my friend. Why was Godrich killed? What did he know, Tatterfox? Kiko, Mensch . . . loose ends. Someone didn't want to leave a trail. Constable Love? I'm missing something and it's staring me right in the . . .'

The Professor grew agitated and kicked one of the slabs.

The Don held up his paws. 'Just relax, Professor.' He reached into the dark tweed of his jacket and passed the Mapper a silver flask of Cobalt sherry. 'For those . . . special occasions.'

Xindii smiled and happily took the flask. 'Always so industrious, Tatterfox.'

'I try.'

The Mapper took a generous swig, feeling its warmth sliding down his throat.

'Better?'

The Professor nodded in agreement.

'Godrich Felstrom was murdered for a reason, Xindii. A reason that you will soon discover, I'm sure.'

'Yes, perhaps I'll just ask him how he managed to piss of a psychopath with dreamurlurgical tendencies . . . and misplaced a soul.'

The Don took a sip of the Cobalt sherry and laughed. 'Life is never supposed to be easy, if we asked the dead for their advice every five minutes the Construct would be a duller place, for sure.'

Silence breathed for a moment, the Mapper staring into the dark as if he had just seen the answer to all his problems fading into pitch.

'Of course . . . why didn't I think of that before?'

'Xindii?'

'Lock the doors, Tatterfox. We're having a séance.'

Hello, lovely readers. I hope you are enjoying The Boy Who Waked Too Far. From now on I'll be uploading the novel three days a week. What can I say? I like to keep my audience hungry. Don't fret, there is so much still to come. Please feel free to comment and vote. Read on, but remember, he will own you in the end!

Thanks again x