In fact — thanks to the recent Glitch — it had already been a long day for Muub. The latest in a series of long days. He was principal Physician to the First Family, but he also had a hospital to run — indeed, the retention of his responsibilities at the Hospital of the Common Good had been a condition of his acceptance of his appointment to Hork's court — and the burden placed on his staff by the Glitch had still to unravel. He studied the vapid, pretty, aging faces of the courtiers as they preened in their finery, and wondered how many more ravaged bodies he would have to tend before sleep claimed him.

Vice-Chair Hork seemed to notice him at last. Hork nodded to him. Hork was a bulky man whose size gave him an appearance of slowness of wit — a deceptive appearance, as more than one courtier had found to his cost. Under his extravagant beard — extravagantly manufactured, actually, Muub reflected wryly — Hork's face had something of the angular nobility of his father's, with those piercing, deep black eyecups and angular nose; but the features tended to be lost in the sheer bulk of the younger Hork's fleshy face, so that whereas the Chair of the Central Committee had an appearance of gentle, rather bruised nobility, his son and heir appeared hard, tough and coarse, the refined elements of his looks serving only to accentuate his inherent violence. Today, though, Hork seemed calm. "So, Muub," he called. "You've decided to join me. I was fearful of being shunned."

Muub sighed as he worked his way deeper into his cocoon. "You glower too much, sir," he said. "You frighten them all away."

Hork snorted. "Then through the Ring with them," he said, the ancient obscenity coming easily to his lips. "And how are you, Physician? You're looking a little subdued yourself."

Muub smiled. "I'm afraid I'm getting a little old for my burden of work. I've spent most of the last few days in the Hospital. We're — very busy, sir."

"Glitch injuries?"

"Yes, sir." Muub rubbed a hand over his shaven scalp. "Of course we should have seen the worst now... or rather, the more serious cases we have not yet reached must, sadly, be beyond our care. But there remains a steady stream of lesser injuries which..."

"Minor?"

"Lesser," Muub corrected him firmly. "Which is very different. Not life-threatening, but still, perhaps, disabling. Most of them patients from the central districts, of course. When Longitude I failed..."

"I know," Hork said, chewing his lip. "You don't need to tell me about it."

Longitude I was an anchor-band, one of four superconducting toroids wrapped around the City to maintain the structure's position over the South Pole. Longitudes I and II were aligned vertically, while their twins Latitudes I and II were placed horizontally, so that the toroids crisscrossed around the City.