Nova War

They soon approached a thick, rubbery ridge that ran across the cave floor directly in front of them, immediately before the first of the line of poles. The ridge continued up the cave walls on either side of them before presumably meeting far overhead, at some point Remembrance couldn't discern in the gloom.

Beyond this low ridge, the walls and floor of the cave took on a smooth, organic texture, and were coloured a pale milky-grey. At this point, closer inspection revealed a series of stubby cones ru

It took a moment for Remembrance to register that these were teeth.

'In case you were wondering,' Honeydew commented, 'those poles are to help prop its mouth open.'

'And if the worm decided to close it?'

'Then they wouldn't make much difference, I'm afraid, as they're there for show more than anything – a way of reassuring the clientele.'

I am entering the gullet of a monster, Remembrance thought, then firmly suppressed the terror that had begun to grow in him the farther they got away from the light of day.

I am Remembrance of Things Past, Queen's Consort, and Most Favoured of the Court of Darkening Skies. Therefore I will not succumb to base panic.

The delicious scent of rotting meat, carried on a slow exhalation of warm air, made him suddenly feel hungry despite his disquiet.

They passed over and beyond the stubby rows of teeth and, further inside, Remembrance could see how closely the flesh of the maul-worm adhered to the interior surface wall of the cave. Light was provided by a series of glow-globes atop yet more metal poles reaching up to just under the ceiling of the maul-worm's gullet, while others still had been placed in special recesses along the many turns and twists of the cave passage, in order to better illuminate their path. Shadows grew to massive proportions, before shrinking just as quickly, as small, unidentifiable creatures constantly darted through this artificial light.

Remembrance glanced down at the soft, moist surface upon which he and Honey dew trod. I am walking on something's tongue, he reflected. I am walking deeper into something's throat, I am He slammed down on this train of thought and concentrated instead on what lay ahead. Honeydew moved on blithely, apparently unaware of Remembrance's growing agitation, though Remembrance knew that in reality the Immortal Light agent was keeping a close eye on him.

They came eventually to a vast interior space so different from the i

'You know, Bourdain might have friends here, friends we don't expect,' Honeydew mentioned casually, glancing around. 'Perhaps we should pull back, and wait him out. I could set some of my personal security team to-'

Remembrance tugged his companion to a halt. 'Is there some reason you don't want to be here, or are you just determined to get in my way?'

'I'm just telling you that you have nobody but yourself to blame if things turn out badly. You broke the rules, Remembrance, and there's a good reason those rules are in place.'

'I take full responsibility for whatever happens.' Remembrance then spotted the food-preparation area, a brightly lit cluster of cooking facilities at the far end of the platform, partly hidden behind several folding screens, which were also used to divide the platform into more intimate sections.

'Does anyone in here have any idea what's going on outside?' Remembrance asked, peering into the unsettling darkness that extended beyond the platform, even deeper within the worm's gullet.

'I don't think so, as we're blocking any and all transmissions in or out of this place, and we've only just arrived. Besides, it doesn't sound like anyone's panicking yet, does it?'

Remembrance heard some distinctive Bandati clicking noises from somewhere nearby, and the sound of sizzling accompanied by the aroma of human cuisine. The smell of it made him queasy. 'Not yet, no.'

He moved tangentially until he was able to see past a folding screen to where some cloud-cow carcasses had been artfully laid out on a ring-shaped table, from the centre of which rose a column perhaps five metres in height. Unaware that royal agents were presently observing them, several Bandati clung to the column. Remembrance stared in horror as one of them extended a long, proboscis-like tongue into the sweet-smelling offal. He looked away, unable to bear the sight, and filled with disgust at witnessing such a private and degrading activity.

Unsurprisingly, the area reserved for the restaurant's human clientele was positioned as far away from the Bandati customers as possible, and several more folding screens shielded them from view. From where he now stood, Remembrance couldn't see whether Bourdain – or indeed anyone else – was seated on the far side of those screens.

A small, pale-winged creature came gliding past one of the glow-globes just as Remembrance saw something long and tendrillike reach down from the dimly seen ceiling like a fleshy whip. It snatched the winged creature, which suddenly disappeared upwards with a frenzied squeak.

A moment later he heard the snapping of bones, and the squeaking terminated.

A human with a mask pulled down over his mouth and nose emerged from behind the screens concealing the kitchen area, and began pushing a barrow towards the Bandati hanging from their perches around the central pillar. The wheel of the barrow was heavily padded, and the man pushing it was proceeding remarkably slowly, and with entirely understandable care. Even so, the barrow bumped up and down noticeably as it rolled across the widely-spaced slats of the platform, exposed sections of the monster's gullet visible in-between.

Another human, wearing a multicoloured floor-length gown, his long hair fashionably braided and coiled in the style of the Martyrs of the Io Rebellion, came tiptoeing out from behind the same kitchen screens, wringing his hands in a gesture of extreme concern. Slowly and carefully, he began to make his way towards Remembrance and Honeydew.

'Victor Charette,' Honeydew quietly clicked in Remembrance's ear. 'He's the manager here.'

'Who would want to manage a place like this?'

'Someone who will retire rich from his efforts on behalf of the restaurant's owners,' Honeydew clicked in response. 'Of whom Alexander Bourdain is one,' he added. 'I've dealt with Charette before, so I'm going to have to ask you to keep your interpreter switched off while I talk to him. He's not going to tell us anything if he thinks you're listening in.'

In fact, Charette ignored Remembrance altogether, focusing his attention on Honeydew. Remembrance watched as the Immortal Light agent activated his interpreter, the tiny, bead-like device hovering close to his mouth-parts changing from green to a softly glowing blue to indicate when it was active.

Human speech was still a mystery to Remembrance, largely because – in common with all other members of his species – he was physically incapable of speaking it. Human body language, however, was another matter altogether. That Charette was currently under stress was clear enough, and it was also obvious that he and Honeydew were acquainted.

Remembrance had already spent long, frustrating months on Ironbloom, finding his every attempt at locating Alexander Bourdain thwarted by bureaucracy and misinformation. It hadn't taken long to develop an overwhelming suspicion that someone was helping Bourdain stay always one step ahead of him. And if Bourdain knew he was being chased, it was only a matter of time before he would board a convenient coreship out of the Night's End system.