Umma Balsum’s lank hair twisted like a boxful of bait worms. It slid back from her forehead and snaked backwards, into an approximation of the greased-down backwards sweep that Benjamin affected when he was not working. A ripple passed through Umma Balsum, from her feet up. It was as if a lightning tide swept along her subcutaneous fat, altering it slightly as it passed. When it had passed out through the crown of her head, her whole body had changed. She was no fatter, and no thinner, but the distribution of tissue had subtly modified her shape. She looked a little broader in the shoulders. Her jawline was more pronounced, and her ample jowls were somehow minimized.

Bruises flowered on her face.

She stood for a second, then collapsed suddenly onto all fours. Derkhan let out a little cry, but she saw that Umma Balsum’s eyes were still open and focused.

Umma Balsum sat suddenly with her legs splayed out, her back leaning against the sofa’s arm.

Her eyes moved slowly up as a furrow of incomprehension ploughed her face. She looked up at Derkhan, still frantically staring. Umma Balsum’s mouth (now firmer and thinner lipped) opened in what looked like astonishment.

“Dee?” she hissed in a voice that oscillated with a deeper echo.

Derkhan gawped at Umma Balsum idiotically.

“Ben . . . ?” she faltered.

“How did you get in here?” hissed Umma Balsum, rising quickly. She squinted at Derkhan in awe. “I can see through you . . .”

“Ben, listen to me.” Derkhan realized she had to calm him down. “Stop moving. You’re seeing me through a communicatrix who’s harmonized with you. She’s shut herself down into a totally passive recipient state so I can talk straight to you. D’you understand?”

Umma Balsum, who was Ben, nodded quickly. S/he stopped moving, and sank again to her/his knees. “Where are you?” s/he whispered.

“In Brock Marsh, down by the Coil. Ben, we don’t have much time. Where are you? What happened? Have they . . . have they . . . hurt you?” Derkhan exhaled tremulously, her tension and despair sweeping through her.

Two miles away Ben shook his head miserably, and Derkhan saw it in front of her.

“Not yet,” whispered Ben. “They’ve left me alone . . . for a while . . .”

“How did they know where you were?” hissed Derkhan again.

“Jabber, Dee, they’ve always known, haven’t they? I had fucking Rudgutter in here earlier, and he . . . and he was laughing at me. Telling me they’d always known where RR was, just couldn’t be bothered to pick us up.”

“It was the strike . . .” said Derkhan miserably. “They decided we’d gone too far . . .”

“No.”

Derkhan looked up sharply. Ben’s voice, or the approximation that emerged from Umma Balsum’s mouth, was hard and clear. The eyes that gazed at her were steady and urgent.