Whirr. Click. New memo. “It’s a bloodline thing. If you know of only one other universe, and if you know the ability to go there runs in the family, would you necessarily think in terms of multiple worlds? Would you realize you’d mis-remembered the design of the talisman? Or would you just assume—the West Coast must have looked pretty much the same in both versions, this world and my own back then—that you’d been abandoned by your elder brothers? Scumbags.”

Whirr. Click. New memo. “Why me? Why Patricia? What was it about her ancestry that threatened them? As opposed to anyone else in the Clan? Did they just want to kill her to restart the blood feuds, or was there something else?”

Whirr. Click. New memo. “What do they want? And can I use them as a lever to get the Clan to give me what I want?”

The door around the back of the scullery creaked as it opened.

Miriam was on her feet instantly, back to the wall beside the cooker, pistol in her right hand. Shit, shit—she froze, breath still, listening.

“Miriam?” called a familiar voice, “are you there?”

She lowered her gun. “Yes!”

Olga shuffled inside, looking about a thousand years older than she had an hour before. “Oh, my head,” she moaned. “Give me drugs, give me strong medicine, give me a bone saw!” She drew a finger across her throat, then looked at Miriam. “What is that you’re wearing?” she asked.

“Hello.” Brilliana piped up behind her. “Can I come in?” She looked around dubiously. “Are you sure this is another world?” she asked.

“Yes,” Miriam said tersely. “Here. Take two of these now. I’ll give you the next two when it’s time.” She passed the capsules to Olga, who dry-swallowed them and pulled a face. “Get a glass of water.” Miriam looked at Brill. “Did you bring—”

Brill grinned. “This?” she asked, hefting a stubby looking riot gun.

“Uh, yeah.” Miriam froze inside for a moment, then relaxed. She fixed Brill with a beady eye. “You realize an explanation is a bit overdue?”

“An explan—oh.”

“It doesn’t wash, Brill,” she said evenly. “I know you’re working for someone in Clan security. Or were you going to tell me you found that cannon in a cupboard somewhere?”

Olga had taken a step back. Miriam could see her right hand flexing. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get dressed for the party?” Miriam suggested.

“Ah, if you think so.” Olga looked at her dubiously.

“I do.” Miriam kept her eyes on Brill, who stared back unwavering as Olga swept past toward the staircase. “Well?”