"Poor Dainyl," teased Lystrana. "You command hundreds, and you think yourself less than a wife who has but a small study adjoining the High Alector of Finance."

"A wife who knows where every gold in Coras lies," he retorted humorously, "and probably every alector who collects interest on each.

And I don't command anyone directly."

"Most of the usury is by landers. You know that. They're far moreinterested in golds than in power."

He did, but found it hard to believe, even if his eyes reminded him every day. The dwellings in the merchants' quarters were far more opulent than those of most alectors. Even the Duarch's Palace in Elcien and the various mansions of the Highests were comparatively modest, and they comprised but a fraction of the alectors' quarter. Dainyl and Lystrana's dwelling was modest, with but four bedcham-bers, one of which was a seldom-used guest chamber, plus, of course, the lower-level servants'

quarters. They only had the two girls, while most successful merchanters had staffs of a half score or more.

"You'll have to go to Tempre, then? By Table?" he asked. "It's important enough that you can miss the sentence of justice this afternoon?"

"I was at the last one, in the spring, and the one before that," Lystrana replied. "I don't need to be reminded of what happens if we abuse power.

You'll be there for me."

"We provide the guard-and the pteridons. I'm not looking forward to it." Dainyl had come to dread those times justice was laid down upon an alector, infrequent as they were.

"I know."

"You're fortunate you can use the Table," he said, trying to change the subject.

v"Nothing else is practical. By sandoxes, it's almost a week each way.

Even if there were a Myrmidon courier headed there, it's a day and a half each way by pteridon." Lystrana smiled ruefully. "Besides, it's occasionally useful to have an alector from Elcien appear immediately in response to a problem."

"You will be back tonight?"

"You had plans for end day?"

"I had thought we could hear the concert at the Palace on Novdi evening. Colonels and above, and their spouses, were invited. I'd thought you would have gotten your own-""I did." Lystrana smiled warmly. "I didn't know if you wanted to go...

and I didn't want to say anything in case you didn't."

Dainyl again marveled at his wife. "You could stay in Tempre tonight and come back midday tomorrow if you need more time. I didn't mean..."

"I know. But if I can't find the missing golds in a day, it will take all the records and a week." She sighed. "Even local translations are tiring, but I am glad for the Tables."

"Will that be a problem... later?"

Lystrana shook her head. "Not while I'm pregnant. Afterward... I wouldn't want to carry a child to most of the provincial centers-except Alustre... or Soupat, because it's actually warm enough."

"Your Highest needs you too much. No one else has a better feel for the Duarchy's accounts."

Lystrana smiled. "You'd best be going."

Dainyl swallowed the last of the cider and rose. "You'll be late this evening?"

"I wouldn't think so." Lystrana also stood. "Sentya! We're finished here."

"Yes, alectress." Sentya appeared with a tray before Dainyl and Lystrana had left the sunroom.

"She's good, I have to say," said Dainyl, following his wife upstairs to their chambers.

"We pay her to be good."

Unspoken was the thought that, without the alectors of Ifryn, Sentya and all the landers and indigens would still be living in mud huts and scraping out a bare existence from a cold and barren land.

Back upstairs in the dressing chamber, while Lystrana bathed, Dainyl hung the old and warm black tunic on the rack on his side of the chamber and donned his uniform trousers, dark gray, and his shimmercloth tunic, brilliant blue with dark gray piping. He adjusted the collar and fastenedthe gray officer's belt in place. Next, he checked the crystal charge level in his sidearm-the standard light-cutter for a Myrmidon officer-then slipped it into the holster on the left side of the belt.

Last came the gray gloves. Depending on how cool it was outside, he might actually wear them. The ride to Myrmidon headquarters would warm him some, especially if the hacker stayed on the sunnier streets.

4.

Many worlds have life, but on most, life remains little more than pond scum, lichens upon the side of a rock facing a cold sun, or tiny animalcules darting through stagnant waters, too unaware to comprehend danger, however dimly, and too limited for their offspring or their offspring's offspring ever to rise from those waters to awareness and thence to aspirations and dreams to place a stamp upon an uncaring and indifferent universe.

Upon that mere handful of worlds hosting life-forms that rise above a thin grasp of rock and water, two kinds of life exist-that which is aimless and that which is directed, either self-directed or directed from without.

Long have there been those who claim that higher life is always directed from without, and that such guidance proceeds from a supreme being, a deity who shapes a world until intelligence emerges, then reveals the divine will to selected individuals.

This is a most comforting belief, yet, like most unthinking beliefs that offer comfort, there is little in the universe to support it. The multiplicity of barren worlds, as well as the demonstrated failures of such "divine guidance" in our own long history, should disabuse all but the most misguided of the illusion of the involvement of a supreme being in the affairs of life and living beings.

In fact, as the chronicles of hundreds of centuries demonstrate, life arises by chance and as it will. All too often higher life upon a world will arise, then vanish, at times leaving no record of its passing, at others, leaving ruins that suggest either poverty of spirit and aspiration or little of ei-ther, save procreation. Is then life a game of chance, a set of bone-dice rolling itself against the odds?

Views of the HighestIllustra W.T. 1513.

5.

At a quarter past the second glass of the afternoon, Dainyl began his preparations for the administration of justice scheduled to begin at the third glass, preparations he had expected to make, but not oversee completely. When he had arrived that morning, he had learned that the marshal had left for Iron Stem, leaving Dainyl fully in command of a proceeding that was exceedingly distasteful. All Dainyl knew was that the Cadmian officer in charge there had sent an urgent dispatch. The marshal had left no instructions.

First, the colonel took out the crimson armband that signified alector misconduct or blood wrongly shed, or both, and fastened it into place on his upper left sleeve below the shoulder. Then he checked his sidearm and straightened his tunic.

After leaving his study, he went to find Undercaptain Zernylta, third squad leader and acting commander of First Myrmidon Company in the absence of Captain Ghasylt, who had left with the marshal early that morning to fly to Iron Stem.

Zernylta was standing by the duty desk, talking with the duty officer, Undercaptain Yuasylt.

"Zernylta?"

"Yes, Colonel?" Zemylta was a slender alectress, but tall and wiry. Like Dainyl, she had blue eyes, rather than the violet usual for most alectors.

Her crimson armband was already in place.

"Third squad will be escorting the prisoner. Are they prepared?"

"I just checked. They all have their armbands and sidearms, and the crystals are fully charged. The prisoner was brought in a glass ago, and he is in the holding cell. The duty coach is already standing by at the Hall of Justice." She paused. "What was he actually convicted of, Colonel?"

"According to the briefing sheet," Dainyl replied, "he abused his houseservants, physically and sexually, and he used Talent contrary to the Code of the Duarches."

"Stupid," murmured the black-haired woman. "Abusing steers is bad enough, but to force sex, and then use Talent to cover it up-he deserves more than he'll get."

While that wasn't possible-the sentence was death- Dainyl understood what she meant. Being an alector granted one power, but also entailed great responsibility, and the Archon and the Duarches punished abuse of that power severely. There wasn't any option, not with so few alectors compared to the millions of indigens and landers.

He nodded and walked down toward the north end of the building to check the holding cell and third squad. After inspecting and checking all that was necessary, finally, at a quarter before the third glass, Dainyl stepped out into the courtyard behind the headquarters building. The two remaining squads of First Company-first and second squads-and their pteridons were forming up to the south of the flight stage. Third squad would be escorting the prisoner, and half of fourth squad had gone with the marshal, while the other half was out flying dispatch runs.

Dainyl turned and surveyed the circular graystone platform that stood in the center of the courtyard behind the Myrmidon headquarters-the flight stage for the pteridons.

The stone stage stood a yard and a half above the paved courtyard and also doubled, if infrequently, as it did now, as the site for the administration of justice to alectors. The raised stones were empty, with only the justice stand-a crossbar affixed atop a single post-set in place for what was to come.

After several moments, Dainyl turned back to the south and walked toward Undercaptain Ghanyr. Behind the un-dercaptain were four Myrmidon rankers and, set as closely as they could be, which still took a square a good thirty yards on a side, five pteridons, blue wings folded back, blue crystalline eyes looking forward.

Did the pteridons anticipate what would come? Dainyl had never known, even with his own, back when he'd been a ranker, then a junior officer."We're ready, sir." Ghanyr glanced down at his arm and the crimson armband. "Hate wearing it."

"We all do. That's why it's required."

"Yes, sir."

Dainyl moved toward Undercaptain Yuasylt, who had left the headquarters building just before the colonel, and second squad and its pteridons. The pteridons of third squad were ranked just behind those of first and second squad, but without their riders, since third squad was providing prisoner escort.

"Almost ready, Colonel," announced Yuasylt.

"Good." Dainyl wasn't certain he was ready, necessary as what was about to happen might be. As he had surveyed the courtyard and the squads of First Company, alectors from all around Elcien had begun to arrive, coming in by themselves, in groups of two or three, and standing on the north side of the landing stage. He could see several assistants of the Duarch, quietly noting who had appeared.

Finally, Dainyl turned. "Myrmidons, ready!"

"First squad, present and ready!"

"Second squad, present and ready!"

With that, Dainyl turned and waited, standing at attention.

As Dainyl and the Myrmidons continued to wait, more alectors slipped into the courtyard. With just a few moments before the third glass of the afternoon, more than a hundred alectors-besides the Myrmidons-stood waiting. Although the day was not that hot, Dainyl could feel perspiration oozing down the inside of his uniform, more a result of his own discomfort than of any real heat, pleasant as the cloudless harvest afternoon was.

From the headquarters building came three deep chimes. All conversation and whispers died away.

The High Alector of Justice stepped from the headquarters building.

He wore a tunic and trousers of purple, trimmed with black. Upon hisupper left sleeve was a crimson armband identical to the ones worn by all the Myrmidons. Across his chest was a black sash. Behind him were his two assistants, attired in a similar fashion, except without the sash. One carried the lash, with its black tendrils, tipped with razor-sharp barbs.

The other carried the mace of justice.

The High Alector climbed the steps to the landing stage and walked to the center, placing himself three yards back of the empty justice stand.

"Bring forth the malefactor!" The High Alector's deep voice boomed across the courtyard.

The doors of the headquarters building opened, and Un-dercaptain Zernylta stepped out, followed by two rankers. Behind them stumbled an alector in nearly shapeless dark red trousers and shirt, barefooted, with his hands manacled behind his back. Two more Myrmidons walked behind the malefactor.

The courtyard remained quiet as the Myrmidons escorted the alector in red to the steps onto the stage, then to the justice form.

The High Alector stiffened slightly as the Myrmidons unshackled the prisoner. Dainyl could sense the immense well of Talent marshaled to strike, if necessary, but the malefactor did not move as his wrists were clamped to the frame and a red hood was slipped over his head. The Myrmidons stepped back, re-forming behind the alector and his two assistants, one male and one female.

In the silence, the High Alector stepped forward. "We are here to do justice. You are here to see justice done. So be it." He turned toward the alector strapped to the frame "You, Bealtyr of Elcien, have abused those who trusted you. You have betrayed the trust placed in you by the Archon and the Duarches. You have deceived, and you have cheated all who live upon Acorus by your acts. For your crimes, you have been sentenced to die."

The High Alector paused, then turned to accept the lash from the taller assistant, who then stepped back. The otuer assistant stepped forward, holding the Mace of Justice in her hands.

"Justice will be done." The High Alector of Justice raised the lash, and struck.The barbs on the lash were sharp enough to shred normal cloth and flesh with but a single blow, but the lash was as much symbolic as physical because, as the lash struck, the High Alector used his Talent and the crystals concealed within the Mace to rip chunks of the very lifeforce from the malefactor. Rather than waste that energy, it was funneled to the pteridons formed up behind first and second squads, who drew it and stored it for when they would next fly.

The High Alector needed but five strikes from the lash barbs before the figure in the tee-frame slumped forward, unconscious, blood splattered across his back and oozing over the red garments.

Brief as those five strokes had been, even so, Dainyl had to brace himself against the agony radiated from the malefactor and Talent-spread across the watching alectors. He watched as several alectors swayed. One young man pitched forward, and those beside him barely caught him before he would have struck the paving stones of the courtyard.

Two more strikes of the lash followed before Dainyl could sense the emptiness that signified death. He managed to keep his lips tight together.

"Justice has been done." The High Alector nodded to the assistant with the Mace.

She turned the Mace on the figure in the frame. A pinkish purple haze flared over the dead alector, then vanished. Only the empty frame remained.

Actually, the Mace was attuned only to the specially treated red clothing. With death, the alector's body would have turned to dust and less in moments, but the use of the Mace provided absolute visual closure.

Had justice been done? Dainyl wasn't sure of that. He was more than certain that, without the visual and emotional reminders provided by the spectacle-and the required regular attendance by all alectors-that far more abuse of position and Talent would have occurred. Great power required even greater checks, as pointed out so clearly in the Views of the Highest, and by there being two Duarches sharing the administrative powers delegated by the Archon on Ifryn.

But did such checks provide true justice? That was another question,one that Dainyl could not answer, not honestly.

6.

On Novdi afternoon, two glasses before sunset, Dainyl and Lystrana stepped through the center archway and into the concert hall of the Palace of the Duarch of Elcien. Dainyl wore the blue-trimmed gray formal uniform of a Myrmidon colonel while Lystrana wore brilliant blue trousers and a matching shimmersilk shirt, with a short vest of paler blue. The vest was short enough that the wider, silver-gray belt that matched her boots was fully visible.

Dainyl surveyed those already seated, without seeming to do so.

"Seventy-five," murmured Lystrana so softly that only he could have heard her, even with Talent-boosted hearing. "We're late."