Ford reads my thoughts and chuckles mirthlessly. “You have to get real, Capac. Dispose of your enemies. Kill those who look at you crosswise. Be merciless. It’s the old way but the only way.”

“Wise advice.”

“Which you’ll ignore.” We smile at each other. He understands me better than anyone ever has, with the exception of my creator. “So why come see an old fart like me if you’re not gonna listen?”

I shrug. “I thought you might have something more constructive to say. I was hoping the serenity of retirement would have opened your mind to fresh ways of thinking.”

“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” he snorts, “and I’m as old as they come. Quit pissing around, Capac. Why are you really here?”

He’s seen through me, as I knew he would. Time to come clean. “I’m frightened, Ford.” A pause. “I’m seeing ghosts.”

Ford doesn’t remember the Ayuamarcans. Like everyone else in the city, he forgot about them in the wake of The Cardinal’s downfall. But I’ve filled him in about them before, so he knows what I’m talking about.

“I’ve been catching glimpses of Ayuamarcans for weeks now,” I tell him. “Y Tse was the first.” Y Tse Lapotaire, real name Inti Maimi, one of The Cardinal’s rare failures. He was supposed to succeed Dorak but he didn’t work out. A colorful figure when I originally knew him, he dressed in robes, daubed himself with paint, wore the most overstated jewelry he could find.

“He was in a crowd of people outside the Skylight. I’d gone over to greet some business associates but I had to wait to get in. Some rock star was staying and groupies had gathered out front. While I was relaxing in the car, I saw Y Tse. He was ten or twelve feet away, staring at me silently. At first I didn’t recognize him — it’s been a long time — but then he raised his arms above his head and bellowed, ‘The time is ripe, friend Capac!’ ”