The piano crashed like an earthquake when the bundle of clothes landed on it.  The figure hissed at forgetting to turn it off, and silenced it immediately, and then cringed at the sudden silence.

Calm.  Stay calm.

‘I’m here,’ came the voice, quiet on the Ethe.  The figure continued to stagger around the catastrophe of a room, snatching and discarding items almost at random.

‘Great,’ she whispered in her head, ‘give me five minutes.’

‘This tower’s really nicely carved you know.’

‘Will you let me get on with things?!’ she hissed.  She stood over a huge mound of detritus and random junk in the darkened room.  She plunged her hands in and shook them to reveal an open bag lying underneath it all.  She sighed through gritted teeth, which surprised her by coming out as a little snarl.  Hurriedly hurling most of items away, she fastened the bag, threw it on her back, and slipped quickly out of the ornate room, along the ornate ramp, out through the ornate front doors, and away through the passageway in the chilly Spring night.

Glowing lights lit the gritty square passageway, which was fairly busy for the time of night – strangers walked and staggered past with drunken cheer and friendly chattiness, mostly in ones or twos.  They walked on all four walls of the passage – she sidestepped and ducked with hurried grace to avoid people at right angles or lazily strolling above her head.

She overheard people still chatting on the Ethe to friends they’d met earlier, or not even seen at all that night, laughing out loud at apparently nothing if you weren’t listening to the airwaves.  They smiled hazily as she passed – they knew who she was, but she was here all the time; there was nothing special about it.

‘Darling, how’s it going?’ came a smooth voice in her head.  It was a close contact, cutting through all the other hundreds of messages she normally left hanging by marking himself “urgent”.  ‘Got a sweet dea-’

‘Not now Relphus!’ she hissed, keeping her face fixed in a vision of calm.  They always make things out as more “urgent” than they really are, she reflected.

‘But it’s the film people sweety, you remember when you did that scene in that film-’

‘I’m – I’m having sex right now!’ she lied, flustered.  A drunken oaf shouted something as she passed, grinning broadly, and shook her hand.

The male voice seemed surprised.  ‘So?’

‘I’m just – it’s – I’m busy, alright?’ she floundered.

‘Huh okay, fine, whatever, well just give me a buzz some time, it’s really exciting stuff honey-’

‘Piss OFF!’

She closed the connection, which she knew (even in her frantic rush) was the height of rudeness.  She was itching to close herself to everything incoming, but knew she couldn’t – it would be the real world equivalent of going to live in a cave guarded by massive dogs who had their own guard dogs.  People would notice – especially when it was her.  You went unnoticed by staying public.

The edges of the passageway gave way to rough curves and bare rock, then soil and long wispy grass on all sides, and widened suddenly – a large open space spread out before her, maybe two miles across in all directions.  Fairy lights twinkled in the blue gloom, close to and far away.  And above, to the right, a tower thrust down towards the centre of the space.

As she made her way towards it, more and more people tried contacting her through the Ethe – some old friends, some long time fans, some complete crazies, some unknowns.  She just left them hanging, like all the others she was too busy for or would get round to later.  The background sounds of clubs, parties and bars bounced all around, from open-air cafes and beneath doors, all asking her if she would like to listen to their beats, to their cellos and overdubs and samples.  People laughed and sat and smiled at her as she passed, even at this late hour.

She slowed as she left the lights and sounds of young urban life and approached the tower.  The world had turned and now it stretched above her, stood on a wide open courtyard.  She climbed the steps and saw the figure waiting for her.

‘I was saying,’ called the figure across the space, suddenly in real sound, ‘the tower’s very pretty isn’t it?’

Stone animals lined the walls around the courtyard, and some even prowled and reared in the space itself, randomly interspersed between the dwarf-trees planted at regular intervals.  She had a feeling some were real animals pretending to look like stone, but she didn’t turn her head.

The tower itself was a beautifully bizarre thing, all carvings and gargoyles and glowing runes that nobody knew what they meant.  In fact, nobody knew if they meant anything or not.  The history was there of course, there in the scriptures on the Ethe, but no-one was interested in history – and certainly not the students who swarmed over the tower during the day, taking silly photographs of themselves and their friends.  As an educated young woman, Noksalika would be the most likely to know, but she’d been put off years ago by hearing it had been rebuilt hundreds of times, having dozens of names over thousands of years.  “Living history” they called it.  Fine.  But these stones and tiles weren’t real history.

‘Have you never been here before?’ she asked, her feminine frame breathing heavily.  A pair of children crept around the courtyard off to the left, hiding behind frozen animals.

‘No, you?’  The stranger wore a cloak, a stylish garment that matched her glossy boots and dress.  She was a woman too, and pretty as well.

Noksalika shrugged.  ‘Once or twice.  I live here.’  She felt a little outdone for once, having put on just a smart t-shirt and jeans to remain low-key.  She narrowed her eyes.  ‘Nice cloak.  Is it for some sense of occasion, or just the first thing you grabbed out of the wardrobe?’

The woman giggled like a girl, raising her hand to her mouth.  ‘A bit of both.  I see you’re trying to play it casual.  Bit silly though, you’ll only stick out more by trying to look unimportant.’

I know that perfectly well you stupid bitch, she thought to herself.

‘Soooo,’ said the woman, dull impatience on her pretty features, ‘what happens now?’

Something moved suddenly across the courtyard.  Noksalika, already tense, snapped up against the tower wall like a bowstring; it was one of the stone creatures, a large fat panther.  It had lunged out at the children hiding behind it, who ran away shrieking and laughing as it gave pursuit playfully.

‘Funny things children, aren’t they,’ said a voice on the wall next to her in her ear.

She turned her head slowly.

A face had appeared in the carvings, looking as though it had been there forever and a day.  A long nose and big, chunky lips protruded from the stone below tiny, piggish eyes.  The eyes had no pupils, but somehow, they were looking at her.  The eyebrows waggled.

‘How are you both this fine evening?’

The other woman giggled again.  ‘It’s you!  I was worried for a minute, thought it might all be a joke.’

The stone face swung its eyes round and beamed a smile.  ‘Of course this is not a joke!  This is an exchange, nothing more.’

‘A discrete exchange,’ breathed Noksalika, her heartbeat still slowing down.

‘Oh certainly.  In an age of openness, subtlety and discretion are most valuable commodities.’

‘So what is your name?’  said the cloaked girl quizzically.  Noksalika felt her skin tighten.  This woman was truly annoying.  ‘You kept saying on the Ethe you’d tell us.’

The face managed to shrug modestly, which is quite impressive when you have no shoulders.  ‘Technically I have no name.  But you may call me … Piarowef, if you like.’

‘You’re very polite for someone without a name,’ the woman smiled coyly.  Christ, thought Noksalika, she’s flirting with a thing with no body.

How ironic, as bodies are all you seem to play with, she thought back at herself cynically.  The words were a sudden stab in her mind.  Had she thought them herself?  She hadn’t noticed anything strange.

‘Why thank you,’ the face Piarowef shone.  ‘But now, without further ado, let us focus on business.  This is quite an operation we are conducting here.  Lucky I have the hands of a surgeon.’  He grinned and gave a little wink to both of them.  ‘Are you both ready?’

Noksalika ignored the joke and nodded solemnly.  The woman nodded too, eager and keen.

‘My powers are considerable, so you will not notice anything physically, nor even psychologically.  However, the social shock will be quite considerable, and this may affect both your mind and health.  Oh, and … I suppose I should check if you really want to go through with this.  It’s quite a big decision for people like yourselves.  Are you both quite sure?’

‘Yes!’ they hissed.

‘Very well, it is done.  Just like that.’ Piaroewef clicked his tongue, in a throat he didn’t have, and smiled.

Noksalika stood frozen.  Her eyes raised up to the other woman, who looked the same – much like she did.

Their eyes stayed glued to each other.

‘Your body will wear its mind the same, and your mind will wear its thoughts the same,’ continued the face, blandly.  ‘However, your thoughts now wear the Ethe in countless different ways, and if you are to remain unseen, you must learn quickly how the other usually wears theirs…’

The strangers’ calls, the perverts’ sordid messages, the countless fans waiting to hear from her … Noksalika felt sudden, empty space where they used to be.  A cool breeze drifted through her mind where hot pressure used to press in from all sides.

The girl opposite her seemed to be shaking, with a smile on her lips and her eyes struck with awe.  She was feeling what it was like to be Noksalika Chuunim.

And she was … Tarabonitz.  Tarabonitz Suhanrohan.  Fuck.  She’d never even asked this girl her name.

‘What…’ started the caped woman, her eyes flickering.  ‘What now?’

But the face had frozen in a maniacal laugh on the wall, merged with the surrounding carvings, and it said nothing.

The woman now known as Noksalika Chuunim suddenly breathed out.  ‘Oh my god!’ she gushed.  ‘Oh my god this is amazing!  Is this what it’s like to be you?  I feel so dizzy!’

‘Yeah yeah alright, shut up, people still listen with their ears as well you know.’  Noksalika – Tarabonitz, she corrected herself – looked around, and the courtyard was still thankfully empty.  The sounds and even smells of city life drifted across gently on the air.

‘So … what are you going to do now?’ the cloak-wearing Noksalika said to her.  She chuckled.  ‘What are you going to do with my life?’

‘I,’ she said, ‘am going to run away.’

Noksalika Chuunim gasped with her pretty lips.  ‘You can’t do that!  That’s my life you’re throwing away!’

‘Was your life.  If you loved it so much you shouldn’t traded it in so eagerly to become a porn-star pianist.’  She spat the letter ‘p’, twice.

‘Ahhh true!  Or “touché” as I bet you’d say!’  Her eyes sparkled with a naivety that was, truly, disgusting.  ‘Well, I guess I should get back to … being you.  Looks great!  Haha!’

‘One last thing, darling,’ the new Tarabonitz said.  ‘We should really change clothes, if we’re going to do this properly.’

‘Hmm good point.  Or maybe you just want my gorgeous cloak?!  Hmm, eh?!’  She giggled again, and the new Tarabonitz noticed not for the first time the girl’s large, strong breasts under the cloak.  ‘This could look a bit silly.  People could be watching.’

‘I know.’

‘How are we going to make it look believable?’

She shrugged.  ‘We could pretend we’re having sex?’

Another gasp.  ‘How sordid!  That’s a great idea!’  She moved a step closer.  ‘Although,’ the new Noksalika said to her, brushing her arm gently, ‘why just pretend?’

They ran their hands through each other’s long, brown hair, and the stone animals turned ever-so-slowly to watch.

The animals had turned away again when they killed her.

They were both shimmering in the afterglow of orgasm, lying naked on the warm flagstones, when the security golem burst out of the carved door in the tower’s carved wall and pounded the girl with its club.  It hit her squarely on the chest and there was the crunch of ribs.  Noksalika – the old Noksalika – felt the breath pushed out of the girl’s throat and all over her face.  She struggled quickly to her feet.

The golem was, like all security golems, huge.  They were something like twelve feet tall and half as wide, like some walking wall with black armour.  (Glancing back at the door, Noksalika was surprised it had managed to get through without taking the frame out as well.)  The club was tipped with nails – authority’s best friend – which ripped out little shards of bone and flesh when the golem raised it and slammed it into the body again twice.  Her chest had caved in, and her body lay twitching, retching, choking, those beautiful eyes rolling back in their sockets.

    ‘Remember our deal, “Tarabonitz”.’  The face had suddenly reappeared in the wall.  His voice was heavy, and certainly less playful.  ‘We keep our bargains if others keep theirs.’

    ‘Tell me again this is secure,’ she said, breathing heavily and rubbing her eyes.  She was shaking.  She staggered into the broken girl’s sexy clothes, feeling about as unsexy as ever.  She looked up at the mountainous golem.  The dome-shaped helmet lowered to look back at her.

‘Don’t worry about it.  Golem actions are never released to the Ethe – not the public Ethe anyway, and we have the confidential side covered.  Our golem friend here works for us.’

‘And her?’

‘Well what about her?’  Piarowef seemed indignant.  ‘She’s you, and she’ll be dead soon.  We’ve tied up the Ethe, and when she’s dead we’ll let her be dead the normal way, all done.  We have a collector on his way right now.’

She adjusted her breasts under the tight-fitting dress, and suddenly flapped at her cheeks and eyes at the thought of the dying girl’s germs all over her face.  ‘And the collector-?’

‘He also works for us.’

She exhaled and tried to concentrate over the spluttering of the body below her.  ‘Tarabonitz, Tara … bonitz,’ she said to herself, trying on the new name.  ‘I hate it.’

‘Brilliant,’ Piarowef beamed.  ‘No-one will suspect.’

She had some clothes.  She had some possessions, none of which marked her out as the infamous and soon-to-be-dead Noksalika Chuunim.  She looked out over the landscape into the distance, and saw some low buildings further round the curve of the cavern wall that marked the entrance to the Eastern Passage.

‘Okay,’ she said.  She glanced at the golem’s club, dripping with a little blood.  ‘We should probably get this finished then.’