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She led him past a bedfield surrounded by a confusion of shaped wooden struts to a relatively clear space at the end of the room. Tools were hung in ordered ranks from the walls, a portable blast furnace was set into the floor next to a lathe that seemed to be constructed entirely from forcefields.

Dep turned to him with dancing eyes and pointed to the shape in the centre of the cleared space. 'What do you think?' she asked.

It was as big as the biplane but with less ground clearance. The tail assembly was a horizontal plane of individual paddle-shaped slats. The power plant was mounted in the centre of an open cage fuselage but there was no drive shaft to a propeller; instead fantastically angled struts unfolded from a complicated mass of gears to attach themselves to the wings near the roots. The wings themselves were canted upwards, curving back gently like the wings of a gull.

Chris realized what it was he was looking at. 'Oh wow,' he said.

It was an ornithopter, a flying machine that flew by flapping its wings.

'It's almost ready to fly,' said Dep. 'A couple more days and we can take it out for its maiden flight. That is, if you want to fly with me?'

'Is the Empress a woman?' said Chris.

'You're disappointed,' said saRa!qava to Bernice.

They were walking along the stretch of beach north of iSanti Jeni that lay between the headland and the beach-bar. The immovable sun had taken on an orange tinge and the sky was turning a deep shade of purple, signifying, Bernice assumed, the onset of evening. Roz and feLixi were strolling side by side a few metres behind.

'I suppose I am,' said Bernice. 'You don't know him like I do. I kept on expecting him to leap out of his chair, solve the murder, declare universal peace and harmony amongst all beings and start playing Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" arranged for two dessert spoons and a chorus of groans.'

'Is that how he normally behaves?'

'Well,' said Bernice, 'sometimes, if we're lucky, we can get him sedated before he plays the spoons.'

'I knew a ship who acted a bit like that,' said saRa!qava. 'Decided to redecorate the crew decks right in the middle of a supernova. We spent a whole morning running around trying to find out where it had relocated our bedrooms and the afternoon figuring out why the star had got so big all of a sudden. Ship would never ever tell us about a crisis until it was long past.'

'Magic thinking,' said Bernice. 'It's a belief, a superstition if you like, that thinking or talking about something has a direct effect on the result.'

'Like wishing hard enough makes something happen.'

'Sometimes,' said Bernice. 'Often it's the other way round. The belief that wanting something really badly is the best way of ensuring that you won't get it.'

'Sounds like a syndrome of deprivation,' said saRa!qava.

'Haven't you ever wished for something and been disappointed?'

'Once or twice.' SaRa!qava said it easily, blandly even, but Bernice saw a momentary pain in her friend's eyes, like a small flicker of darkness. 'I took steps to rectify the problem.'

Behind them Roz laughed at something feLixi said. It was a short surprised bark, as if the laugh had been tricked out of her.

'Do you think he believes in magic thinking?' asked saRa!qava. There was no need to ask who he was.

'Oh yes,' said Bernice, 'I think he's its greatest exponent.'

'Isn't that a bit irrational?'

'I suppose so,' said Bernice. 'But you see with him – it works.'

AM!xitsa met him at the edge of the cove just as the sun was going out.

'She's sleeping,' said the drone.

'Any changes?'

'Lots,' said aM!xitsa. 'She went walkabouts today.'

The Doctor nodded. 'It was bound to happen sooner or later. No "incidents" I hope?'

'She ran into one of your friends, the older female.'

'Interesting. Any reactions?'

'Marked increase in endocrinal activity, lots of adrenalin and a big spike in the memory centres.

I'm beginning to see a pattern in these fluctuations,' said aM!xitsa, 'a cyclical progression. While she's asleep there are surges of brain activity that fall away when she wakes up. But