Zical recalled that when Kahn had trained Tessa to use psi, he'd used s.e.xual frustration in an attempt to encourage her psi to appear. s.e.xual frustration was a tried- and-true method of achieving psi ability. While the accepted method hadn't worked on the Earthling and Kahn had found another way, there could be no doubt that s.e.xual experience could support psi connections. Although Zical had most certainly delayed his and Dora's o.r.g.a.s.ms, his intent had been simply to escalate the pleasure. Dora already possessed psi power, yet perhaps their activity had triggered or strengthened other part of her psi.

"You think last night-"

"Increased my psi strength. My contact with Ranth is not strong, but we linked.

He's very much alive."

Zical supposed he didn't have to understand how Dora attained a link, he merely needed to make use of her unique abilities. "Can you and Ranth infiltrate the Kwadii systems."

She shook her head. "Not white Ranth's in the vault. We are still too weak."

"And if he comes out?"

"The Kwadii dampeners will kill him."

Some of his hope was dashed, but be still wouldn't give up until he'd explored every option. "How can we strengthen your connection?"

"Well, a few more nights like the last one might accomplish the goal."

Dora chuckled, and he marveled that she could so when they were at the brink of death, but then the woman constantly surprised him. He'd feared Dora's innuendos and teasing about s.e.x had been to cover up insecurities. Stars, had he been wrong. Dora reveled in her sensuality and she'd thoroughly enjoyed herself-as much as he had.

And before the night had been over she'd proved to him that what said was what she meant.

Frustration and discouragement swelled in his chest. "We don't have a few nights.

"We have only hours."

Dora entwined her fingers with. his. "I know. But you think of something. You always do."

Her confidence jolted him. Ever since the Kwadii had imprisoned them, he'd been trying to think up an escape plan but hadn't succeeded. With their execution imminent, 151.

he had a responsibility to his crew and the Federation to keep trying until he'd breathed his last breath.

He'd tried perusing Kwadii laws again during the early morning when Dora had fallen asleep. He'd come up with zilch. And Vax and Cyn hadn't found a way to overcome the technology or their guards. Zical had seen no weakness in the Kwadii defenses and their security teams seemed prepared to counter every scenario.

Nevertheless, when the hovercraft stopped, Zical kept his eyes open, his mind alert.

Followed by armed guards, they exited directly into an oval stadium filled with Kwadii spectators. When the audience spied them, their dull murmur rose to cheers and loud shouts. Loud music played over an audio system as if they were the day's entertainment, and Zical bristled. How dare these people act as if taking the lives of his crew and his scientists meant no more than watching a holovid?

With the overwhelming security around them, fighting their way free was not an option. The only thing he could do for his people was to concentrate on acting courageously-and in the end, bravery meant little when his failure condemned them to death. Teeth clenched, jaw set, he kept his head high, seeking even the slimmest opportunity to escape.

Avanti met them wearing her sarong and sandals, and in addition she wore a ceremonial silver sash draped over her shoulder. Her gaze was carefully emotionless, but Zical still sensed the tension in her shoulders, and he suspected she cared more about their fate than she tried to let on, especially after she took one of his hands and one of Dora's, then squeezed lightly. She gestured to a central podium, surrounded by chairs filled with dignitaries on two sides. The Risorians garbed in silver and purple splendor took position along one semicircular table, the Selgrens in bronzed and unadorned attire on the other. The two sides appeared to square off as opposing factions-but in truth both sides wanted the Federation people's execution.

Avanti spoke quietly, her tone threaded with sorrow she couldn't quite contain. Her hopelessness showed despite her attempt to appear optimistic and that fed Zical's own pessimism. "The trial will take place on center stage."

Zical had decided they should wear their golden togas and loincloths because he didn't want to die in a borrowed Kwadii garment. He stepped forward and nodded to Avanti, ignoring the towering execution machine with the cruelly sharp blade as best he could, certainly not an easy task. Apparently the Kwadii beheaded those they believed had committed treason and the executions would take place one by one.

Determined not to show his concern, Zical stepped forward. Horns blared and cheerful audience hushed. Soldier's hands tightened on their weapons, as if expecting Zical's group to recklessly charge them. Avanti touched a b.u.t.ton. Nothing happened that he could see.

Dora leaned forward and spoke in his ear. "Their force fields are like nothing in my experience."

152.

With Dora more attuned to the alien machinery than he, Zical had to take her word, because the force field, was invisible. Avanti didn't appear to have heard Dora, but touch second b.u.t.ton. The force field changed from transparent to foggy with sparks of white and green. "Any living creature who comes into contact with this force field dies." When she touched a third b.u.t.ton, she lowered the shield, allowing them to go by.

After they pa.s.sed, a soldier repressed the third b.u.t.ton raising the shield behind them, trapping them inside the field. "When Avanti reached her people at the stage's center, she was admitted past yet another field, this one sparking gold and silver, that kept the Kwadii separate from those who stood accused. Within moments Zical's people were caged within the bubble which turned transparent again. Without weapons, without the law on their side, they were like masdons being led to slaughter.

But they weren't beasts. they were people. And they had done nothing to wrong the Kwadii. In fact, he believed they were fighting the same enemy. Their peoples shook be allies, but he'd only have one opportunity to convince them.

Zical had read about the proceedings. Rogar, the chief prosecutor would speak, and Avanti would defend them, then Zical would have an opportunity to talk. He'd prepared his words, but Avanti had warned him they would do no good.

However, if this were to he his last day, he intended to speak eloquently in defense of his crew and his people. How ironic that all his life he'd trained as a warrior, but now he was left with no weapons-except words. He vowed to make statement powerful Dregan h.e.l.l. His best would have to be good enough or they would all die, and the Federation would have to send another mission to reprogram the Sentinel to stop the Zin-if they had time.

The second irony, that they were accused of the crime of helping the Zin when their mission was to stop a possible invasion, angered him. As Rogar called the trial to order, Zical's determination increased. He had to listen to every word. Catch every nuance.

And search for a loophole in Kwadii law.

"Let the great Tirips protect us, guide our decisions, and see true into our hearts."

Rogar spoke at the podium, using an incantation that must be a prayer. He and the Risorians stood and raised their eyes to the ceiling, crossed their wrists over their hearts in prayer. Oddly, the Selgrens stayed seated, remaining silent if not quite respectful as they stirred and muttered among themselves.

Two factions, obviously two different religious beliefs. But Zical expected help from neither side.

When Rogar finished the opening prayer, Avanti took a turn at the podium, speaking with a brilliance that clearly came straight from her heart. "This trial is for the people. Let us make wise decisions based upon facts, not superst.i.tion."

The Risorians took her words as an insult. As one they stood and gave her their backs. At least that's how Zical interpreted their actions. The Risorians demonstration revealed distaste, like what one would exhibit to an unruly child who didn't know better.

153.

So the rift between these Kwadii went deep into many facets of their society, religious as well as economic. During his readings into the law, Zical had seen many references to Tirips. The Risorians believed they were the direct ancestors of Tirips, the G.o.ddess of the Galaxy, and they spent their lives improving themselves spiritually and physically. To mimic the perfection of Tirips was to win a place by her side in the afterlife.

The Selgrens who didn't believe in Tirips seemed to do most of the hard work on Kwadii. Yet for a reason Zical didn't understand, the Risorians appeared to have the upper hand, most of the wealth and more clout.

While Zical didn't mind the Selgrens and Risorians baiting each other and mocking one anothers' beliefs, he didn't want them so angry they couldn't focus on the trial.

However, he could no more than watch the proceedings in disgust when a man beside Rogar approached the podium.

"Who's that?"

Avanti couldn't help scowling at the man taking center stage. "He's Rogar's son, Deckar Rogar Delari Hikai, heir to the Fifth House of Seemar."

Deckar wore simple clothes for a Risorian, but then he didn't need to draw attention to himself with elaborate clothing. The man was taller than the other Risorians. As powerful as a warrior, he strode forward with a light step that belied his size. With his back curly hair and muscular body, he could have been mistaken for a Rystani warrior, if not for his fair skin.

Next to Zical, Avanti tensed like a tigress. Her fingers clenched the table's edge hard enough to cause her nails to turn white. Her expression savage, her mouth in a terse line, she glanced at Deckar with an animosity that suggested these two had a history of clashing.

"What's wrong?" Zical asked Avanti.

"That slimy son of a sand worm has a voice that can make a curse sound like a prayer."

"And?"

"He's the Risorians' best hope of winning the next popular vote."

"What does he have to do with our trial?"

"Once he states his opinion, every Risorian will follow his recommendations."

Zical fought to understand the ramifications o her explanation. "So won't the Selgrens vote with us?"

"Maybe the men. Too many of our women fear war and the Zin, and that b.a.s.t.a.r.d will pay on those fears." Avanti sighed. "I told you from the beginning that we could lose."

Zical had thought they'd lose on a point of law-not because a handsome Risorian used his presence to play upon the audiences' fears. But as the words rolled out of Deckar's mouth as dynamically as any holovid celebrity's, Zical watched faces turn 154.

starstruck. The man's charisma held the crowd. As Avanti had predicted, many of the ladies appeared enthralled, and his charm was almost hypnotic as he described the violation of hypers.p.a.ce, the Zinatti symbols that suggested the intruders were in league with the enemy. He made a clear, concise case that almost made Zical believe they were a threat to Kwadii and deserved the death punishment for treason.

"Death," Deckar exhorted the audience.

"Death," they shouted back, the roar so loud it would be difficult to find anyone who disagreed.

"One scientist gasped. Another one fainted again, and Shannon caught her, supporting the woman protectively against her chest until Vax came to her aid. A few prayed, their lips silently moving. But most waited with their spines ramrod straight, and he'd never been prouder.

Zical had to give Avanti credit too. She tried. "When it was her turn to speak, she told them that the Zin were their mutual enemy. She spoke of the Federation peoples'

ignorance of how tie Zin could track through hypers.p.a.ce, but the crowd who would vote on their fate had clearly already made up their minds and did not believe in their innocence. Head high, eyes sorrowful, Avanti sat frowning to more calls of "Death."

Finally it was Zical's turn. Before he left for the podium, Dora gave his hand a quick squeeze. While the rest of crew sat quietly, their faces white and grim, Dora's eyes sparkled with encouragement. She still held out hope.

Zical tried to concentrate on his speech and ignore the legalese. He spoke with pa.s.sion of their mission, their quest to find the Sentinel guarding the galaxy, admitting that sign of the Zin was aboard their ship, but not because they were spies. Their intention was to stop the Zin from returning. He pointed out in clear concise language that the Zin and Zinatti might be the same enemy. And hoping to prey their fears, he told the Kwadii that if they stopped his mission to protect not just the federation but the whole of the galaxy from an ancient menace, their people would suffer along with the Federation's billions.

The Kwadii audience listened to his words. He might not have been as eloquent as Deckar or as pa.s.sionate as Avanti, but he was no less determined. He didn't know the Kwadii as well as Avanti, but all sentient beings shared the common trait built into their DNA-a need to live long enough to procreate and ensure the survival of the species.

And finally he spoke more about the Federation, a union of worlds that had much in common with the Kwadii. A political system that allowed freedom and difference in values and political beliefs. He spoke of his sorrow at leaving Rystan after the Endekian invasion, of his pride in settling on the new world of Mystique, and how their people were counting on them to complete their mission. Lastly he spoke of the millions of worlds within the Federation, its power, and how if the Kwadii executed their citizens, the Federation would consider it an act of war. And finally he suggested a treaty of peace between their peoples, one that would allow them to focus their goals and unite their efforts on eliminating the threat from the Andromeda Galaxy.

155.

Zical finished as he'd started. To the sound of silence. He suspected with gut- wrenching tension that his words hadn't reached them. He returned to his seat and Dora smiled at him. "You were brilliant."

He clenched his hands into fists, then forced his fingers to relax. Although he appreciated her compliment, he feared he hadn't done enough. And when the vote came in, he Steeled himself.

Avanti and Deckar approached the podium, their faces shifting with emotions he couldn't read. Together they, read the verdict. "Death."

"Death," the crowd chanted "Death. Death. Death."

Zical's crew expected the death' sentence, they consoled the scientists. Cyn wiped away one of the women's. Vax clamped a steadying hand on Dr. Laduna's shoulder and Dora held on to the woman who'd fainted earlier. Brave to the end, they didn't deserve their fate, Zical thought, and a lump formed in his throat.

Deckar raised his arms and the audience calmed. Soldiers with weapons double- timed through a lowered force field snapped up again immediately after their pa.s.sing.

Deckar's voice remained smooth and charming, but threads of his power charged the area. "The prisoners will climb the dais."

The soldiers approached. Black helmets protected their faces, and armor guarded their bodies. Behind them the force field crackled back into place. The soldiers had attached long sharp spears to their weapons, in case the prisoners needing prodding.

Zical considered going down fighting. His warrior nature fought with his abhorrence of senseless death. Taking lives of innocent Kwadii soldiers, men who followed orders and who neither set the laws nor made the decisions, seemed a senseless gesture of violence. Instead, he preferred to set an example for his people. He would face his death with courage and dignity.

Determined to be the first to die, Zical stood, angry that he had failed, disappointed he couldn't finish his mission, sorry that so many good people would die for no reason.

When Dora placed a hand on his shoulder, he swallowed the lump in his throat. He would die first, and perhaps he could give everyone else a few more moments of life to prepare, to say their good-byes and whatever prayers would help ease the journey.

Full of anger and sorrow, Zical took the stairs, and when he reached the execution platform, two soldiers grabbed his arms while others kept weapons aimed at him. They led him to a machine, forced him to kneel. As a man tied his hands behind his back, another offered him a hood. He shook his head, refusing the blindfold, and filled his gaze with the sight of Dora.

Stars. Even with tears rolling down her cheeks, she was one beautiful woman. He wanted the sight of her to be his last view of this world.

Music played. Deckar offered yet another prayer but Zical didn't listen. His mind was too full of what he'd failed to accomplish. Leaning forward, he placed his head into the contraption that would soon release a blade to fall and lop off his head. He cared not what would be done to his body. Rystani warriors believed that when the body 156.

died, the spirit was freed. Deckar's prayer ended. The music changed. And Deckar began to count backward from eight.

Zical didn't look down but kept his gaze on Dora. She'd paled and her eyes were raised to the blade, her expression filled with horror and shock. Shoving past the others, she raced to the dais, shouting, but he couldn't hear her words over the roar of the crowd, lost sight of her when she moved out his line of vision.

"Seven," Deckar counted, his voice amplified by a microphone.

Zical glanced above him and saw that the blade didn't fall and slice cleanly as he'd suspected. It was coming slowly, sawing to and fro. He steeled himself for a painful death, knowing that physical pain couldn't match the agony of failure in his heart.

"Six."

A commotion in the crowd caught his gaze and he watched the bubbling group of humanity to distract himself from the descending blade. He wished Dora had remained were he could see her. But despite trying, he couldn't turn his head and she remained out of his sight.

"Five."

A child stepped through the crowd and walked toward the force field. Stars. It was Kirek! He was heading toward the killer shielding. Zical shouted for him to go back, but his voice couldn't be heard about the noisy crowd. What did Kirek think he was doing?

He should have stayed hidden. Even if he somehow navigated the field, the soldiers would shoot him down. Or he would suffer the same fate as the rest of him.

"Four."

Kirek stepped through the force field. The shield sparked rays of green, shooting a bursting aura of color over the audience. The crowd went silent. The soldiers' aimed their weapons on the boy, about to fire.

"Three."

Zical looked up at the blade and regretted that Kirek would witness such a grisly sight and suffer the same fate. He had only a few more seconds of life. He braced for pain.

"He's Tirips's Oracle," someone in the crowd shouted.

In the center of the stage, the Risorians" expressions changed from astonishment to awe. Many faced Kirek and crossed their wrists over their hearts. Deckar ordered the soldiers to hold their fire. Someone dropped the shield separating the Risorians and the Selgrens from the Federation people. Risorians fought past the Selgrens to reach Zical on the dais, chairs crashed, people elbowed one another, and the entire arena erupted into shoving and pushing and fighting. Within seconds a riot ensued.

Deckar continued his morbid countdown. Avant was shouting for the execution to stop, but the blade was still sawing closer to Zical's exposed neck.

Kirek strode through the second field and another burst of gold and silver shot out in rings. The crowd oohed and ahhed. Many gazes rose toward the heavens. More 157.

Kwadii crossed their wrists over their hearts while Selgren booed and yelled catcalls.