He may be a psychopath, I thought, but he’s our psychopath.

“This new mission,” said Mr. Stab. “Will I get to kill more people?”

“Almost certainly,” I said.

“And is there a good chance that I might be killed?”

“Almost certainly.”

“Even better,” said Mr. Stab. “Count me in.”

“Incoming!”

The shout cut across all the War Room chatter, and we all looked around sharply to see where it was coming from. One of the communication staff was standing over his workstation and pointing at it with a trembling finger. The communications officer was quickly at his side, slamming him back into his seat, and then scowling over the man’s shoulder at the information flashing across his screen. All the other communications staff were frantically checking their computers, crystal balls, and scrying pools, and chattering excitedly to each other. A wailing alarm suddenly went off, and the Matrirach immediately ordered it shut down.

“Can’t hear myself think,” she said sharply. “Ah, that’s better. Now, what’s happening? Talk to me, people! What exactly is it that’s incoming ?”

“Is the Hall under threat?” I said.

“Looks like it,” said the communications officer. It was Howard Drood, efficient as always, come over from Operations to head the War Room during the attacks on the nests. “Something is trying to force its way into our reality, right here, pushing past all the Hall’s defensive shields. Which I would have said was impossible except for the fact that something is doing it.”

“Could it be Truman, or the Invaders?” I said. “Launching a preemptive strike against us?”

“Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know! The screens can’t make head or tail of what’s happening.” Howard’s habitual scowl deepened as he studied the monitor screens. “I’ve never seen readings like these . . . Whatever this is, it’s coming at us like a bat out of hell. It’s already punched through the outer defences, and it’s heading straight for us.”

I flashed back to the old attacks on the Hall, when the Heart was still in residence. We never did find out for sure who was behind them. Had they chosen this moment to attack us again, while we were at our weakest and most vulnerable?

“Strange,” I said. “Talk to me. Do you know who or what this is?”

“No, Eddie.” His voice in my head was surprisingly tentative. “It’s coming from a direction I don’t recognise. From outside everything I understand as reality. It’s not very large, but it does seem to be very determined. And no, Eddie, I can’t keep it out.”

Giles Deathstalker had his long sword out, and was looking around for an enemy. Not to be outdone, the Sarjeant called up a gun in each hand.

“Put those away!” the Matriarch snapped immediately. “You can’t have weapons in the War Room! You might damage the equipment.”