The Sugar Lump was a seed pod.

Something watched him. Paul twisted, scattered his being like diffusing mist...

Call it the antiXeelee.

It was as old as the Xeelee race, and as young. Inside the vessel men called the Sugar Lump -- and, simultaneously, within a million similar vessels scattered through the galaxies -- it waited out aeons, brooding.

The antiXeelee took Paul as if in the palm of a hand. Paul tried to relax. The gaze was all-knowing, full of strength... but not threatening.

Gently he was shepherded to the gleaming walls and released.

He opened his eyes. And moaned.

He was back in the world of the stick men.

Green's face, lined with concern, hovered before him. "Take it easy," he said. "We've brought you inside the Edge car." He slid a hand behind Paul's neck, tilted his head forward and helped him sip coffee. "How do you feel?"

Paul felt the softness of the seat beneath him, saw the warm brown light of the car interior. Beyond the windows the glow of the Sugar Lump seemed different. Harsher? Sharper? Shadows raced through the interior. "What's happening, Commander? Where's Taft?"

"At the controls of the car. He got a call from his team at the City site; some kind of problem." Green leaned over him hungrily. "Paul. You were inside the Lump, weren't you?"

"...Not really. It isn't like that." Paul reached for the coffee cup and took another mouthful. "You taught me what's happening. I have a non-local perception. Like a quantum wave function I'm not limited to the here and now; I perceive events spacelike-separated from--"

"Paul," Green said urgently, "skip it. Tell me what you saw. I have to know. My career is hinging on this moment. Is it the Xeelee?"

"I... Yes. It's the Xeelee." He groped for analogies. "It's like a huge hangar in there. There are Xeelee, waiting, whole populations of them. Thousands of ships, ready to be -- ripened. Artifacts of all kinds."

Green smiled. "Weapons?"

"Yes." Over Green's shoulder Paul could see Taft approach quietly.

"What are they doing?"

"I don't know. But, Commander, I don't think they mean us any harm. You see, there's another presence which--"

Taft's bearded face was twisted with a kind of pain. He raised two clasped fists over Green's head.

"Commander!" Paul jerked convulsively.

Green half-rose, turned his head. Two fists hit his skull with a sound like wood on wood. The reaction carried Taft perhaps a foot into the air. He cried out. His hands came away bloody.

Green tumbled into Paul's lap; then he slid to the floor of the car.

Paul stared at the blood on Taft's hands. Memories stirred impossibly. So it is coming to pass, as I knew/remembered. But how...?