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grabbed him by the arms.

Juarez glanced up to the sky, his eyes growing wide. "Put him on the hook!"

"Hook?" Dirken asked. But no one answered him. As the Acolytes dragged him forward toward the doorway, Dirken looked to the sky to see what the Governor had reacted to.

Two more ships had joined the pirates. Both were gleaming silver United Worlds starships — a destroyer and a patrol cruiser. All four starships opened fire as he watched. Red and green lasers flashed. An explosion, and then another, on the hull of the cruiser. It started smoking. Even from this distance he could tell that the destroyer was already heavily damaged at the bow before anyone had fired a shot. Was the destroyer the Excellentia? The Bloodhawk's brigantine, the Dragonfire, hadn't fared well after the attack on the Witch's Tits. The front of it was blasted to hell. Somehow, though, both had survived well enough to make it to Earth.

The Aussie had him by the handcuffs. She pushed Dirken up against the side of one of the stone blocks near the doorway. "Raise your hands as high as you can over your head, and no funny-business." Dirken raised his hands, his eyes still locked on her blue eyes. The Acolyte fastened something to the handcuffs. When Dirken looked up, he saw that the handcuffs had been latched into a hefty hook with some sort of locking mechanism.

The Aussie dangled a key in front of Dirken's face. "Don't even try to escape. Just enjoy the show." She stuck the key in her ample bosom and patted it. "Wouldn't you like to get at it, loverboy?"

He shrugged, then nodded and smiled. "I told you back at the lounge that I lost my date."

"Ha! Sorry, mate, still not for sale. Besides… I like girls." She punched him in the gut. Hard. Dirken bent in pain, straining against the hook. "That was for Weed. Arrogant pricks like you are the reason we need AVA in the first place."

Dirken groaned. Took a deep breath. Looked her in the eyes. "That's fair," he croaked, still trying to catch his breath, "but you're still hot."

Yiorgos yelled, "Get that fucking thing away from me!"

Both the Dirken and Aussie looked over to the doorway where his partner was strapped into a metal frame. The bodyguard was now attempting to attach a cable to Yiorgos's data port on his right arm. Dirken was close enough now that he could make out what was inside the room. The Heart sat atop of an hourglass-shaped console with readouts and indicator lights, arranged in a mesmerizing, shimmering way, and surrounded by candles — an altar. Dozens of cables ran from the altar to the sphere.

The inner walls and ceiling of the room were painted with fading and flaking designs of pigment in stylized figures of men in feathered headdresses. Some praying. Some offering items to leering gods. And some killing, with rivers of blood running from their sacrificial victims.

"Oi! Cyborg!" the Aussie said. "You can either have us plug it in there, or we can pop off that metal plate on your head and connect it directly to your processor. Might do a spot of damage to your brain, though. Make your choice and do it fast!"

Yiorgos huffed and looked at her, but it was clear the Aussie meant business. He gave one more tug of resistance, but they were able to connect the cable to his wrist data port.

All of the Acolytes had now gathered around, crowding into the little room and surrounding Yiorgos and Dirken in the entryway, including the Bloodhawk's "slave" and the others who had been at the base. The blond yeoman had recovered from being knocked out by Yiorgos and now stood to the side, rubbing his bruised forehead. Governor Juarez entered last, arc blade sheathed. "At last!"

"What the hell could you possibly want from us?" Dirken asked.

"You?" Juarez asked. "No, smuggler, not you. Him!" He pointed to Yiorgos. "We searched far and wide for the right recruit. We knew we needed a cyborg with a cranial processor, sensory inputs, and a vocal implant. And we needed one who would be profiteering enough to take on the job. Turns out, he had you for that." He turned toward his bodyguard. "Power her up!"

His bodyguard flipped a red switch on the hourglass-shaped console.

AVA suddenly lit up, the green lights turning red and brightening. A whirring sound started, and then readouts on the console flickered and came to life. The bodyguard checked the readings, then, eyes wide with excitement, nodded at Juarez.

Juarez raised his arms. "Brothers and Sisters! A new dawn has arrived. A day to burn away the greed and avarice. AVA lives!"

"Praise be to AVA!" the others chanted.

"She has returned!" the Aussie exclaimed, her face lighting up with reverence.

Dirken looked up as he heard a series of distant explosions. The four ships were now moving in a ballet, rotating and tilting, circling, jockeying for the most opportune positions. Firing lasers. The UW cruiser was listing, on fire, and moving away. The Bloodhawk's corvette, the Speartip, made a sudden dive as a blast hit her engine, rocking the ship and sending shock waves that made Dirken's eardrums flutter. Smoke poured from the engine compartment, and she started circling downward.

This was a dogfight writ large.

But the UW ships didn't seem to dissuade the Bloodhawk. The brigantine's hangar opened and a number of landing craft launched, headed straight for the pyramid.

"Oh, shit, here they come," Dirken said. He looked back, but none of the Acolytes seemed to hear what he said.

"Praise be AVA!" Juarez said, and the others repeated it after him.

Yiorgos grunted, his human eye going wide. He shook against the frame, trying to escape.

"Yiorgos!" Dirken called out. "What's happening?"

The cyborg tilted his head, then jerked back the other way, stuttering. "Ahh… uh, uh uh uh!" His face contorted. Eye rolling. Mouth opening.

"It's happening!" Dirken heard the "slave" mutter, grabbing the Aussie by the hand and holding it.

"Yiorgos!" Dirken yelled.

Juarez continued. "From

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