Third in Calder's sometimes fascinating but, latterly, disgusting trilogy about the robot-vampire plague of Meta; strange to say, the publishers quote Kirkus's remark ``a thoroughly unpleasant piece of business'' (on Dead Boys, p. 30) with approval. Still, the nastiness--ahem, ``post-cyberpunk''--continues as Iggy Zwalch, now called Dagon, the sexless, fanged-angel Elohim, completes his trip through space and time and returns to Earth. Somewhere, there's a Reality Bomb. It may or may not have been implanted in Dagon by Dr. Toxophilous, the Cartier toymaker who created the first dead-girl vampire automata. It may or may not explode after Dagon has lived a thousand years--and he may or may not already have lived this long, thanks to his extended space-time jaunt. The bomb, if it ever explodes, will create a universe where Meta is impossible. Perhaps, then, Dagon may awaken as Iggy and reflect that, metaphorically at least, it was all a dream. Obsessive, murky, horrid; the only thing missing is the government health warning.