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Enforcers: they weren’t made self-protective like the other immortals. They were made to go in swinging, never mind what kind of odds they faced. I reckon Dr. Zeus realized it’d be stupid to make a fighter what was too careful of his own skin.
    I see. Can they be disabled?
    Aye. Injure ’em enough and their bodies shut down, go into fugue for self-repair. But could you stay alive long enough to do for him afore he done for you? Anything you did, you’d have to do at point-blank range or he could dodge it; and I don’t like the idea of you getting that close.
    There are ways.
Edward examined his empty glass.
A straight stab into the kidneys. Attack from behind, lay the throat open and get away quickly.
    And if you didn’t get away fast enough? He’ll do his job, sir, even as he’s going down. A little like you when you died, if you don’t mind me making the comparison.
    Have the courtesy to imply quotation marks around the word “died,” if you please. I’m quite sure the Company has my own body preserved somewhere. In any case, I ought to have some advantages over this Enforcer.
Edward set his glass down.
He may have been a terror in battle, but I daresay he’s never had much experience killing by stealth. Oh, Machine, the things I’ve done! What luck for me there’s no Hell after all. We’ll see if the old monster can match the young one.
    Just you remember that if he gets his hands on you, it won’t be you dying; it’ll be my Alec. And the girl will be lost there forever.
    Very well; let’s see for means. There are no guns in Alec’s weapons locker that aren’t too large and obvious. I want knives, small sharp ones that can be concealed. Paring knives will do well enough. An ice pick, a cobbler’s awl, even a sixpenny nail if a sharp enough point can be set on it.
    That’s clever now, that is. Leave it to me, sir, I’ll just send Billy Bones down to the machine shop. We’ll take no chances, eh?
    None. And you’d best begin plotting an evasive course through time, an itinerary as it were. Places to hide once we’ve rescued her. Look into this event shadow business.
    Aye aye, sir! And may I say it’s a pleasure to serve under you, sir?
    Edward laughed bitterly, silently. He lifted his eyes again to the golden circle of lamplight, the floating bubble of warmth and quiet . . . beyond which was the rage of the vast ocean, freezing annihilation, torrential chaos.
    Halfway through the Song of Songs, Alec leaned forward to peer at the text more closely. “Hey!” he said. “This is about sex, isn’t it?”
    “Art thou not ashamed?” Nicholas snapped, in exasperation.
    “Oh, let the boy alone,” said Edward. They both turned to stare at him.

VERY EARLY ONE MORNING
IN 2317
    At 2:46 AM on March 14, 2317, the security cameras at Marin Medical Supply registered a break-in. The shipping door was clearly seen to open, admitting a blur that no amount of analysis could resolve into a recognizable shape; and after a period of thirty seconds it closed again. There were no thefts apparent at the time. Only months later, during an inventory, was it discovered that a Belltone Auditory Enhancement unit was missing from the warehouse stock, as was a Belltone Standard Vocoder. These were small and pocketable items, however, and their loss was put down to shoplifting.
     
    “There we go,” said Joseph, gasping as he hauled himself over the edge of the tank. He made his slippery way down the ladder and toweled dry before kneeling to install the tiny speaker at the tank’s base.
    Budu still floated in blue light, welted and horrible, but about his throat was a tiny white band with what appeared to be a jewel set in its center. It was in fact the Belltone Standard Vocoder, and the Belltone Auditory Enhancement unit nestled out of sight in the ruin of Budu’s left ear.
    “Okay. Testing, testing, can you hear this? Can you talk to me?” said Joseph.
    Budu moved slightly in his vault.
    “I Hear You,” said a