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than nuking them."
      "I'm curious to know what he wants, and why he is doing this," said Swan.
      The Texan snorted.
      "Our role at the VIA is to understand why the machines do what they do – not even the Director knows that, and he's a number like me. If we don't interrogate k52, how can we stop this happening again?" said Swan.
      "Ask yourself, Swan," said Milton.
      "I have, but I am not k52," said the AI reasonably. "My conclusions are therefore irrelevant."
      "And what, Assistant Director Sobieski, what if it fails?" asked the South African. "What if your pet Kraut here doesn't bring this Waldo fellow back in? What if k52 dices your agents to dogfood? What then?"
      Sobieski looked at Swan. Swan twisted his wand in his hands.
      "Then, to borrow the Assistant Director's terminology, we will nuke the place. There's a stratobomber on tightbeam link to me only, targeting the Realm House with EM pulse-generating atomics, low megaton yield. It is an option of last resort."
      "How low a yield?" said the Boer.
      "Low," said Sobieski, "but once you take into account the energy released by the failure of the Realm House's tau-grade fusion reactor, there will be a big hole in Nevada."
      Swan looked round the table. "In addition, we risk a large amount of collateral damage to the Grid. We can buffer the overspill, but the Realms are deeply entrenched in the network."
      "And how much is that gonna cost us?" said Milton.
      "Thirty per cent of the Grid could be damaged. Estimated cost runs to 360 trillion dollars," said Swan. "Disregarding physical damage to the Real."
      The Boer slapped the table. "'Disregarding physical damage to the Real,' fucking number."
      "Then Klein, Chures," said Milton. "You better not fuck this up."
      "I have a lead. Oleg Kolosev." As Otto spoke the files were called onto the room's screens. "Old friend and partner of Vellini's. If anyone knows where to find 'Waldo', he does. Kolosev has also been arrested and convicted by the VIA. He tried to hide himself when he got out. Unlike Vellini, Kolosev has been unsuccessful, running home to the Ukraine. Richards and I use him sometimes. He's not of the same standard as Vellini, but they were close, and he may know where Waldo is. No matter how hard he tries to hide, he is easy to find, and he will talk for the right price."
      Sobieski narrowed his eyes, thinking. Then he spoke abruptly. "Klein, Chures, you're leaving for Kiev in the morning. Henson, prep your teams. Swan, continue your attempts to dig out the EuPol Five and shut off k52 from his choir in Europe. I want this wrapped up by the end of the week."

CHAPTER 4
    Bear
     
    It was morning when Richards followed the bear out of the woods, his head banging.
      The woods looked worse by day. The pale fingers of dying trees thrust up through the rhododendrons, brown leaves as imperishable as old-school plastics choking the ground beneath them. Away from the sunlit path, blackness gathered thickly.
      "Dangerous," the bear commented. "Dangerous and full of death." At that he'd shaken his enormous head, remembering something better. "We had best stick to the road."
      Richards was suffering the combination of his arrival and what he suspected was a mild concussion. Every sunbeam that filtered through the canopy stabbed at his eyes. His lips were swollen, one eye bruised shut. He was miserable with human suffering, too stiff and sore to feel angry at the length of time it took for a meat body to heal. The roll of the bear's shoulders as it strode along filled him with nausea, and the reek of his clothes as they warmed intensified it, so he focused on the twinkling drive to keep it at bay. The parade of stones soothed him. When the sun was strong enough, he saw that each one was a tiny skull carved from quartz, all as different as snowflakes. He knelt down and picked one up.
      "I wouldn't do that if I were you, sunshine," murmured the bear.
      Richards put