"I could not warn you."

We emerged into a clear layer within the star. Far, far below was a dense ocean of fire, looking like some fantastic sodium-lit cityscape; beneath it something small, hot and yellow glowed brightly. We descended through slices of fire-cloud with startling speed.

The Ambassador said, "You are perhaps aware that this giant is a star in the latter part of its life. Its bulk is a gas whose density is only a thousandth that of Earth's atmosphere, and whose temperature is well below that at the surface of Sol. Easily managed by your new skin. So you see, there is nothing to fear."

Now the ship veered to the right, and we skirted a huge, blackened thunderhead. "A convection fount; complex products from the core," explained the Ghost.

"The core?"

"Like a white dwarf star, about the size and mass of Sol. It is mostly helium by now, but hydrogen fusion is still proceeding in a surface layer." The Ghost rolled complacently. "Jack, your visit -- this project -- is inspired by quantum mechanics. Do you understand the Pauli Exclusion Principle? -- that no two quantum objects can share the same state? You may be amused to know that it is electron degeneracy pressure -- a form of the Pauli Principle -- which keeps that core from collapsing on itself."

"You're prepared to live inside a star, just to evade detection by the Xeelee?"

"We anticipate long-term benefits."

We dropped into another clear stratus. The core was a ball about as hot and bright as the Sun from Earth; it rolled beneath us. Starstuff drifted above us like smog.

The Ghosts had built a city here.

Once this must have been a moon. It was a hollowed-out ball of rock, a thousand miles wide. Ghost ships swept over the pocked landscape.

At the poles two vast cylindrical structures gleamed. These were intrasystem drives, the Ambassador explained, there to maintain the moon's orbit about the core.

Our ship approached the city-world's surface -- there was negligible gravity, so that it was like hovering before some vast, slotted wall -- and, at length, slid into an aperture.

I turned to the Ambassador. "I won't pretend I'm not impressed."

"Naturally, after this demonstration, I will provide you with any backup data you require for your report."

"Demonstration? Of what?"

A hint of pride shone through the thin, sexless tones of the translator chips. "We have timed your arrival to coincide with the initiation of a new phase of our project."

"I'm honored."

We hurtled along dimly-lit passages. Other craft dipped and soared all around us. Blocks of light tumbled from cross-corridors, reminding me irresistibly of pixels. I recalled Eve's strange, ambiguous warning, and wondered bleakly if I really wanted to be present at the dawn of a "new phase."