"Yes, that looks like the right text. Could you bring it down and place it with the others?" It blinked back to its former position, hunched over several parchment scrolls. As she carefully climbed back down the ladder, Jackie glanced at the book's spine: "Legendes of Atlantiss, Ye Kingdome Beneathe the Sea - Aipecs of Cimmeria". She gave a puzzled frown.

"Observer, does this signature on the spine mean what I think it means?" It looked up and read the spine as she lay the book atop a pile of similar tomes.

"Yes, Apex did write it. He is also responsible, though mostly second-hand, for about half of these." It waved its hand at the parchment- and paper-strewn table. "He is THE authority on Atlantis."

She looked in wonder at the myriad documents, many of them crumbling with age. "But some of these must be hundreds of years old! Apex can't have been around that long, surely?"

"He has though. I don't know how old he really is, but some of these scrolls and books are copies of much more ancient works. The marks on this scroll for instance," it pointed at the top of the closest parchment, "show that it was copied from a stone tablet found in a Roman tomb. And it has Apex' name as the author."

"But that's impossible!"

"I don't know. I've given up being surprised where Apex is concerned. He is privy to magics more profound and subtle than those known to any other living sorceror. I have no doubt he could destroy the world if he chose. But he chooses not to. And if he has not done so in hundreds of years, then that it is enough for me.

"Now, do you think you could find for me the 'Treatise on Infernal Magicks' by Brother Triptych? I only have an abridged version in my memory and I think a more complete understanding may be necessary."

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"Yes, but you still won didn't you?"

"That's hardly surprising is it? I have played this game for ... well, longer than I care to say ... so if I had lost it would have been a real turn around!

"But now I think it is time to leave you to create your own Metaspace. From now on, you must remember never to journey to another sorceror's domain unshielded - you may only put up your defenses on your own turf. This," Apex swung his arm to take in the gray horizon, "may not be so hospitable next time you visit."

"Why though? Surely you aren't going to try and kill me every time I pop round for a chat?" Alf stood and waved the chair away. Snapping his fingers, a pearl handled revolver formed in his rght hand. He pointed the gun at Apex. "After all, we are friends."

The sorceror laughed. "Alf, if you visit another's Metaspace it is never 'just for a chat'! If you want to talk, visit in person or better yet, send a projection that cannot be harmed!" Apex threw his glass to the ground and a wall of flame leapt up between he and Alf. The gun melted and Alf was forced to draw back. "Now, go! And come not ye hence again without permit!" Apex joined his hands to form a ring, and the flames did likewise, encircling Alf. The plain beneath him melted and he fell towards the unending nothingness at his feet.

Falling, he saw the small circle of pink sky which had marked his exit from Apex' Metaspace shrivel and disappear. All that remained was the Source, glittering darkly above his head.

And he was being watched.

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"Do you know the way?"

"Well, no. I was sort of hoping you could give me directions..."

"Follow the arrows on the floor. When you're ready to come back, stamp three times and follow them back. Don't be long though, I may need your services again shortly." Jackie nodded and wandered out to follow the illusion Observer had conjured for her.

Observer continued to read. Where had Apex got all these documents from? Triptych's 'Treatise ...' was rare, but normal enough in a magician's library since it was the standard reference. Similarly, some of the essays about Atlantis were ancient and almost certainly unique, but since Apex had written them it was to be expected that he would keep a copy.

But Atlantean tax records? Censuses? Broadsheets? Even theatrical programs! How had they survived for 7000 years? And how had Apex got hold of them? There was a lot more to this eccentric than even Observer had thought possible. No wonder Apex had never consented to help Observer in the way that Jackie had. There were obviously things he didn't want Observer to find out too easily.

And that signature still bothered him: "Aipecs of Cimmeria". Cimmeria had been one of the kingdoms contemporary with Atlantis, a neighbouring territory that had sunk into disarray as Atlantis had sunk beneath the waves. Could Apex really have come from there?

Jackie came back. "Ah, Jackie. Could you fetch down the census record for Finya and Mewrya please?" Blinking, Observer pointed it out. "It's this metallic scroll here."

"Oh, Observer. Couldn't you fetch it yourself? I'm bushed!"

"Jackie, I've told you before that I'm only a projection and that I cannot affect anything material. Please help me. We need to find out more about Parity, then we might be able to find some way to defeat him."

"Yes of course. I'm sorry." She moved the ladder along the shelves and laboriously climbed to where Observer hung. "Observer, is this really a census record for an Atlantean province? Where did Apex get it from?"

"Yes, it really is a census of a land 7000 years gone. All I can think of is that Apex is a time traveller and that he fetched these from the Atlantean hall of records just before it was submerged." It was rubbish of course, but Observer didn't want to tell Jackie what it really thought. She wasn't to know that time travel was no more possible than ... than a seven thousand year old man...

Carrying the fragile roll of metal down to the table, Jackie asked "Are you getting anywhere with any of this? I mean you've been reading these things for hours ... are you learning anything?"

"I only really want this final scroll as confirmation of some ideas I already have. If you could just roll it out ... Thankyou."

"How can you read this? It's not even in an alphabet I recognise."

"Well, it took me about half an hour to decypher the language but once you know it, it's really very simple. Interestingly, the phonetics is quite similar to Greek. Oh dear. I was right."

"What's wrong?"

"I think I know why Parity set up the Temple of Psychic Communion. And it wasn't very nice."

Alf walked the rain soaked streets of his Metaspace. The cool night air drove its sharp-nailed fingers through his drenched raincoat and fingered his spine. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Source dodge back behind a corner, thinking itself unseen. Alf smiled. Nothing went unseen in his town.

A new bar had opened on fifth and Vermont. "The Broken Heart". Heh. Better check it out, thought Alf. He fingered his pearl handled .45 through his coat. 'Old Reliable', he called the gun. Never let him down yet. Walking towards the door of the Broken Heart, he carefully loosened his belt so he could draw more quickly should he need to. The Source followed discreetly.

The Broken Heart was like a lot of the other new bars which were just starting up after Congress had made liquor legal again: it was a dump. They were still decorating the place after hours, clearing away the paint tins and ladders for the customers' benefit before opening time next day. Just being open and selling booze guaranteed a steady trade. But it was still a lottery whether you sat on wet paint. Alf preferred to stand.

The barman looked nervous as Alf walked up to the bar, glancing at the customers as he did so. Usual types for this time of night - the tired ones, looking for some escape after work. They sat there with the grime of their lives ground into their clothes, their hair, their skin. Alf figured they'd probably go back home later and beat their wives. If they had wives. If they had homes.

"Mr du Plex! What brings you to this humble establishment?"

"Oh, the usual, you know. Gimme a beer." Looking in the cracked bar mirror he saw the Source had snuck in while he hadn't been looking and was slouching in a corner. "Say barkeep, what does the name mean?" Alf didn't really want to know. It was usually some sob story and he'd heard too many of those in his time.

"'The Broken Heart'? Oh, that's just me being sentimental. I came to the city after my wife ran off with another farmer. Clean broke my heart." He'd been right. "Used to be a farmer down in Missouri. You ever been there?" Alf shook his head. "Lushest grass you ever saw. I raised the best cattle in the county. And I gave it all up to come here to the Broken Heart." Alf didn't believe a word of it, but it wasn't this man's secret he was trying to find out.

"Do you get many regulars in here?"

"Regulars? Ain't been open long enough to have regulars!" Pat line, thought Alf. He knows what I mean. Still, play along for now.

"No, I mean insurance salesmen."

"Nah, they're all labourers in here. Construction, mostly. Working on the site a couple of blocks over." Geez, this guy was either real dumb or real smart. Alf sighed.

"Mobsters, chum. Offering protection." The barman's eyes widened in shock. Dumb, real dumb.

"Oh! My Lord, I didn't know ... No, I haven't had any gentlemen like that in here! Oh dear..."

"Well, here's my card. If you need any help, just holler. I'll be seeing you around."

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"Now, looking at the census records we have, the area around Finya was noted for a very high level of post-natal mutation. Horns, hooves, that sort of thing. There was a mutagen in the area which worked on adult organisms rather than foetuses. And it was present in high concentration over a long period. According to Triptych, there is only one source which can have such an effect. That is worship of the Others."

"Others? What others?"

"They're extra-dimensional entities. Not evil in themselves, but bringing them into our universe produces adverse local conditions."

"Alright, so Parity formed his Temple to worship one of these beings. What did he get out of it?"

"Power, an almost limitless supply of magical power. Parity's residence was on a nexus, as I said. The nexus itself was centred on a huge geomagnetic deposit. Parity siphoned the energy that his fellow acolytes had drawn from the Other and stored it in this deposit. A magical battery if you like. Presumably he keyed it to his own mental patterns in order that nobody else could use his cache."

"What would he use this power for? Running the lights?"

"No, no, no," Jackie's attempt at humour had passed the machine by, "I think he used it to precipitate the Deluge."

"What? Why would he want to do that? Destroy his homeland like that?"

"You should understand that Atlantis was a decadent empire. In its hay day, when the majority of the population was magically talented to some degree, worship of the Others was not tolerated. There was even an Inquisition of sorts to back it up. But when the Deluge came Atlantis was already sinking. I assume Parity sought to cleanse the kingdom."

"By consorting with unspeakable entities? It doesn't fit together, Observer.

"I assume this map is before the Deluge?" Observer nodded. "Do you think you could put in the water?" Observer did so. "So, Mount Finya is now the Isle of Man and Parity's house is here just north of ... Edinburgh, I think. Could you put in some landmarks please? Observer?" The computer had gone very quiet. In fact, its image was beginning to go transparent.

"Jackie, where Parity's house used to be ... we're standing there now. Apex built his house on the same spot.

"He's too powerful. He has access to his magical reservoir, and I don't think we can beat him."

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Apex stood framed by the doorway. His top hat and cape looked more than slightly out of place amid the squalor of the Broken Heart. He smiled weakly. "Ah. Wrong sort of rain soaked streets. Mr du Plex, could I have a word? In private?"

"Barkeep, do you have a back room? For private conversations?"

"Yeah, sure. Just back here."

"Apex, follow me." Alf eased open the door which the barman had pointed to and stepped through. Apex followed him into the empty room which lay beyond.

"I must say, all this is very impressive for a first effort. But where do you keep the Source?"

"It usually follows me around. A cheap hood usually, but I carry a portable version too." Alf drew a shaving mirror from an inside pocket and stood it in thin air. The Source was visible within.

"What do you want Apex?"

"Well, I was going to teach you a little more of magic. But you seem to have progressed beyond the point where I am permitted.

"Instead I will tell you that the time for action has come.

"I know how we can beat Ewan Parity."

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