He was still holding her hand when the darkness subsided and the dim outlines of walls became visible in the half-light.

"Where are we?" said MOMO, her voice echoing from the ancient stonework. "This place looks familiar."

He didn't answer, and he didn't notice when he let go of her hand and let his fingers uncurl at his side, the right hand as numb and cold as the left. As he had done a thousand times in his nightmares, he turned already knowing what he would see: the massive block of the altar rising from the floor like a tomb, the cold gray light that somehow managed to pass through the stained-glass window unaltered, turning everything cold and gray.

Against the monumental scale of the cathedral, the human-sized figure that detached itself from the shadows at the base of the altar seemed hardly remarkable, approaching the two of them in a few leisurely strides.

MOMO's gasp resounded like a shot. "That's--"

"MOMO, get back!" Startled out of inertia, he pushed her aside and stepped in front of her. "You .... What are you doing here?"

He smiled. In the shadows the red of his eyes seemed black, his face a gray stone mask like the walls and the light and the dead world outside, if there was a world outside anymore. "Strange you should ask. I would have thought you'd be wondering how you got here yourself."

Ziggy advanced another step under the echoing vault. He wasn't entirely convinced, yet, that any of this was real--especially the man standing in front of him. Too many of his nightmares had begun this way, and all but twice they had ended when he awoke. "You had better explain yourself, Erich."

"I suppose you think this is a dream," he said, as if reading Ziggy's thoughts. "And you may not be entirely wrong. A phenomenon that arises in the unconscious domain, whether it's your own mind or the collective unconscious of the universe--if that's what you call a dream, then yes, that's what this is. This world is a projection, a virtual environment assembled from memory. But in another sense, I can assure you that what you're experiencing now is real."

"That's not possible." He told himself he was just playing along, that any moment now he'd wake up, heart racing, in the droning silence of the lab; he just had to hold out until then. "None of this is possible. You're not supposed to exist anymore. Lactis sacrificed himself to make sure you would never return."

"So he did," said Voyager, "and he suffered a fate you were powerless to prevent, as I recall. I see you've made a habit of depending on your subordinates to save you. It's a wonder you managed to earn their admiration in the first place. But I suppose there's something miserable about you that inspires their sympathy."

"That's not true," said MOMO with quiet indignation. "How dare you say those things about Ziggy!"

Voyager raised his head and eyed her with mild interest, as if noticing her for the first time since they had arrived. "For the sake of your remaining dignity, Jan Sauer, I'll pretend I didn't notice the irony of having this ... young lady ... rush to your defense. Now then, you wanted to know how I came to be here? You're right, Lactis destroyed himself when he betrayed me, and I'm pleased to say he got the traitor's death he deserved. I might have suffered the same fate if I hadn't let go at the last instant. My consciousness was already in fragments; all that remained of me was the fear of my own demise. And that fear was what saved me, at the very moment I faced total dissolution into the void."

Ziggy felt his jaw tighten and his fists contract involuntarily. "You're saying Lactis gave his life for nothing?"

"I said no such thing. He died believing he had a reason to exist. He died believing he had saved you, his own captain. You should at least be thankful that he found peace in the end--which is more than you can say for yourself, isn't it?"

He ignored the question. "Are you the one controlling the shadow network?"

Voyager laughed, a deep unsettling sound that filled the empty space of the cathedral. "I'm afraid you misunderstand--I am the network. Or perhaps I should say the network is an outgrowth of my will. It was born when the scattered fragments of my mind began absorbing information from the collective unconscious. I found that I could extend my will by using the same ability that had allowed me to construct a working memory inside the UMN; after that, it was merely a matter of forming the right connections. But I couldn't have extended my reach as far as I did if the framework hadn't already been there." His gaze slid toward MOMO again, and Ziggy shifted his stance in front of her, a defensive reflex. "For that, young lady, I owe you my gratitude. You've done me a great favor--and I'll bet you didn't even realize what you were doing."

Ziggy interrupted MOMO before she could ask the same question he did, as he sensed she was about to do. "Are you saying the AMN had something to do with preserving your consciousness?"

"Does it really surprise you?" His tone was half accusing, half triumphant. "Didn't you realize what you were meddling with when you tried to unite the two domains of this universe? Don't feign innocence. You chose to ignore the dangers and go about your work blindly, without any regard for the consequences. Is it any wonder you weren't prepared to face the results? You had no idea what would happen when you cast your net across the sea of information, did you? Perhaps even she didn't know. What a pity she isn't here now, to see the results of all her scheming and plotting for the last hundred years."

Ziggy pushed back anger, suppressed the urge to strike at the half-lit figure beneath the altar. He had learned from their last few encounters that any such attempt would have the same effect as boxing with his own shadow--worse, because his own shadow didn't bend space and time to turn his blows back against him. "You shouldn't have survived at all, Erich. Lactis said it himself. You should have disappeared along with the one who was controlling you--even if your desire for power hadn't destroyed you first."

"It's true, my power as a Testament was limited," said Voyager. "Touching the Compass of Order almost destroyed me, but in the end I was transformed by its power. Not enough to become a god as I had planned, but enough to release me from the limits of human consciousness. You could say I've become something like a demiurge, a creator god of the lower realm."

Ziggy had a momentary flash of recollection, of hands straining toward light in the instant before they dissolved. "Is that why you're manipulating the followers of Ormus? Because you've managed to convince them you're some kind of god?"

Voyager looked insulted. "They follow me because, to them, I'm no different from a god. Their own leaders deceived them, but they put their faith in me because I can grant them the salvation they were tricked into believing they could obtain."

"You mean the so-called 'promised land'? You don't really intend to lead them back to Lost Jerusalem."

"Of course not. Why should I waste the effort? They've already shown that they're content to believe in lies. There's no need to give them the real thing, at least not yet. The paradise I can provide for them is more than enough to satisfy their dreams of returning to the homeland. My interest in returning to Lost Jerusalem has to do with the relics there, but I'll retrieve them in due time. For now, I concern myself with the people of Ormus for the same reason as always. I require their power to achieve my goals."

"Then you're just like the others who were lying to them before!" MOMO burst out. "How can you use other people as if they were just objects?"

He laughed again, quietly this time, a soft menacing rasp like the whisper of a blade being drawn. "And I suppose you'd know all about being used, Realian."

"MOMO, I told you to stay back!" said Ziggy, with such force that she actually staggered a few steps, as if he'd struck her. His gaze turned forward again, and his voice took on a different edge. "Voyager, what you're doing is despicable. I can't say it surprises me; I would have expected as much from you. But why use Ormus to attack the Federation? What is it you want from us?"

"I think you know the answer to that question. I have my own reasons for waging war against the Federation, but that doesn't concern you. I knew you would get involved if I targeted something important to you, and that was also my intention. You may not be instrumental to my plans, but I haven't given up hope that you'll join me in achieving them."

"I've never had any intention of joining you."

"So you say. I happen to believe you can be persuaded to change your mind." He came a few strides nearer, so they stood only a few feet apart now, and Ziggy fought against the impulse to turn away as the red eyes locked with his own. "What's the matter? Afraid I'll find out something you don't want me to know? It's too late to hide anything from me. I've already looked into your heart; I've seen the fear that drives you, just as I was driven by the fear of death. You've always been afraid you won't be strong enough to defend what is precious to you--isn't that right?"

Ziggy flinched, shuddered; for a moment the red of his nightmares flashed across his sight, a glimpse of contorted figures in the instant before he looked away, before he could identify the dead--and when he looked again they were gone, replaced by shadow and stone.

"You couldn't even save them when they were standing right in front of you." His tone would have bordered on pity if it hadn't been for the condescending smugness layered over it. "And now you have to watch them die over and over again in your memories, an eternal punishment for your failure. But they aren't the only ones you've failed." Other images, now, superimposed on the empty space, persisting even when he tried to close his eyes or block out the sensory input to his mind. "You're afraid of your own inadequacy, and for good reason. All of your experience has confirmed that fear; now you're afraid you won't be able to protect the world you've been working so hard to rebuild. But don't forget, you possess the same factor that I have. Even in your wretched state, the light of your will is like a beacon that gives hope to those around you. If you lend me your power, then perhaps we can stop the inevitable destruction of this world. I want the universe to survive as much as you do."

For a moment Ziggy wanted to believe it--anything to silence the noise in his head--but then he seized control of himself, stemmed the flood of recollection to a place at the back of his mind, beneath his awareness. "That's a lie, Erich. And if you believe it, you're lying to yourself. You just want to escape from the world and take everyone else with you. But you can't protect the world by retreating into an illusion."

Voyager made a sound of disapproval and stepped back, staring up into the vault as if he could see the sky through it. "I see. And what about your friends who are on their way to Lost Jerusalem? Surely you want their mission to succeed."

The abrupt change of subject caught him off guard. "You know about that?"

"Careful." He lowered his gaze with a smug expression, as if he had managed to work out something he had only suspected before. "If I hadn't, you would have just given it away. But tell me, what would be the point in attaining Lost Jerusalem if our own civilization was reduced to dust in the meantime? What a terrible irony that would be."

Rage lashed up in him again and he steeled himself against it, reminded himself it was useless. "That's enough, Erich! You won't convince me to believe anything you say, so just give up."

"That's a shame," said Voyager. "Because we're almost out of time." He looked again to the ceiling high above them, where a few fragments of stone had fallen away from a hole that opened into a swirling fog. There was something unreal about it, as if it were an opening not in the ceiling but in the fabric of the world itself. "Realian, I'm afraid your little software upgrade has had the desired effect on the system. This part of my mind is becoming unstable, and it's only a matter of time before it collapses altogether."

MOMO looked around in alarm. "Then we have to get out of here! Ziggy, what are we going to do?"

"I don't know what you're going to do, young lady," said Voyager, "but Jan Sauer has to make a decision." He turned to Ziggy. "Either accept what I've proposed to you, or perish when this part of the network is destroyed. It's up to you."

"I see." Ziggy lowered his eyes, staring into the middle distance. "Then I guess I'll be going down with the network."

"Ziggy, wait!" MOMO dashed to his side again, and this time he made no attempt to stop her. "There has to be a way out. And if not--if not, then I'll stay here with you, right until the very end." She cast a defiant glare at Voyager. "No matter what you do, you can't hurt us."

A mirthless smile tightened across his face. "Such naïveté. Well, I hate to force your hand, but I'm not prepared to let you perish yet either. I'd much prefer if you came along willingly, but ...." He lifted one hand and made a brief, dismissive gesture. MOMO gave a strangled cry and folded over as if reeling from a blow. She swayed and collapsed to her knees.

Turning, Ziggy lunged for her, but the floor buckled and cracked under his first stride, the stones coming loose around the widening gaps in the world. He reached her just as the floor caved under her, and he found himself kneeling at the edge of an abyss, clinging to her hand to keep her from sliding into it.

"Ziggy," she whispered, gratitude fighting through the pain and terror etched on her face.

He held out his left arm. "Don't be afraid," he said, as calmly as he could manage when his own heart beat so fast he thought something inside him would rupture. "Just try to grab hold."

She grasped at the outstretched fingers of his left hand but came up short. "I--I don't think I can do it. I can't hold on anymore."

He pulled back as another course of stonework toppled into the void. She still held on to his right hand, but he could feel her grasp weakening. "Please try again. Just one more time."

Biting her lip, she flailed out again with her free arm, and this time her fingers closed around his wrist. Relief washed through him, but only for a moment; he felt the floor stones around him pulling apart, and knew that even if he lifted her onto solid ground, in a few minutes there would be no solid ground left to stand on.

He took a deep breath. "MOMO, I'm sorry ... I ...."

Her eyes widened, fixed on something above him, and before either of them could react he felt an invisible force seize him and haul him back from the edge. Her fingers slipped from his grasp, and from the corner of his eye he saw her slide backward, saw the gray fog roll in and close around her in a wave.

Later, he wouldn't remember if he had cried out or if he had been too numb with grief and horror to make any sound. The force that had torn him away from MOMO still held him, and before he could fully comprehend what had happened, it hauled him into the air above the sinking, caving floor of the cathedral. The ceiling had begun collapsing too, and massive stone blocks and rafters plummeted around him. Directly above was an opening like a jagged oculus, a blind spot that shielded him from the falling debris.

Voyager stood on the air in front of him, silhouetted and backlit against the stained-glass window. The falling stones dodged around him as if consciously avoiding his path. "I warned you," he said, his voice flat with disapproval. "I gave you the chance to decide. I've waited for more than a hundred years for you to come to your senses. But even the gods lose their patience." He forced a thin smile. "And I'm not a god. Not yet."

Ziggy stared at him, breathing shallowly, his eyes unfocused and unseeing. He felt as though he had left some part of himself in the cathedral below, as if something intangible had been ripped away when MOMO fell, and it had gone into the void with her.

The clouds stirred above him and a faint light, different from the cold gray light inside the cathedral, strained through at the seams. Above the groan of expiring stonework another sound broke through, a voice he distantly recalled as if from another universe, another lifetime--and it seemed he had lived a thousand lifetimes now, instead of just two.

"... Jan? ... MOMO? ... Are you there? Answer me if you can hear me ...."

Voyager's smile deepened into something terrible. "Well. Your guardian angel has arrived."

Ziggy raised his head with effort and peered into the brightening gap in the ceiling. The clouds had thinned, and the light on his face felt like turning with closed eyes toward the sun. He tried to answer, but his mouth had gone as dry as dust.

"How does it make you feel," said Voyager, "to be rescued by the very people you're supposed to protect? Doesn't it make you ashamed of yourself?" He laughed. "I could end your suffering now, but I'd prefer to see you beg for that mercy. I'll make you crawl to me like a supplicant before the gods, praying to be forgiven. And if you continue to resist, I'll shatter you. I'll tear your soul to pieces so you'll know exactly what it was like when it happened to me."

"... MOMO ... Jan ... if you can hear me, answer me, please!"

"Juli, I can hear you." He hardly recognized his own voice.

"Jan? Are you all right? What happened? Is MOMO with you?"

Voyager's eyes narrowed. "I guess we'll have to settle this another time. I'll leave it to you to decide when that will be--just remember, the longer you wait, the more you'll have to suffer. And I think you've suffered enough already." He gave a slight inclination of his head and dissolved into the air, his last words hanging in the echoes of the vault after he had gone. "I'll be waiting for you."

"Are you still there?" Juli's voice sounded frantic. "What's going on?"

"I'm still here. There's been .... MOMO is ...." He didn't know how to continue.

"She isn't with you?"

He considered explaining, but he didn't think he could find the words. "No."

"Damn it. All right, I'm going to initiate a logout sequence. Just hold on."

He waited, but there didn't seem to be much left in this place to hold on to. With Voyager gone, or at least since that particular manifestation of his consciousness had abandoned this part of his mind, this place had lost whatever stability his presence had imposed on it. What remained of the walls and floor and ceiling came unbound, the stone itself unraveling into the fog, and at last Ziggy stood alone in a depthless, directionless expanse like the inside of a cloud.

He stared down at his hands, at his arms, but they too had become insubstantial, the outlines blurring and running into the gray. He felt permeable, as if the boundaries of his self had thinned enough to allow the fog to pass through; in another few moments he might not remember who he was, but the thought of losing what remained of himself seemed agreeable to him. It would come as a relief when he could finally let go, release his last breath and exhale himself into the void.

He didn't notice when one world shifted into another. The grayness persisted, and he had only a distant sense of opening his eyes in another room somewhere, of someone else's hands prying off the dive headset and helping him sit upright. Voices, lights, warmth, reached him as if from a great distance, if at all. He had fallen into a world of ashes.