Obi-Wan and Andra slipped past a row of protesting onlookers to reach Den and Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan handed the recording rod to Qui-Gon.

"We got it all," he said.

Qui-Gon immediately rose and hurried off. He had already discovered the booth where the technician who transmitted the visual images to the crowd during the breaks was located.

The technician sat at a console, eating a greasy meat pie. Around him were tiny screens that showed what was currently playing to the crowd. One camera was on each contestant, one took in a full view, several took partial views, and the rest scanned the faces in the crowd. During the break, all of these would be replaced with the global park images.

The technician looked up. "Who're you?"

Qui-Gon placed the recording rod on the console. "These images are to be shown after Xanatos' speech. Governor's orders."

The technician licked a drop of sauce off his thumb. "I didn't hear anything about this."

Qui-Gon directed his gaze at the man, who continued to eat. "You should show the images after the speech."

"I'll show them after the speech," the technician said, his mouth full.

Qui-Gon eyed his greasy fingers. "And you'll clean your hands first."

"I'll clean my hands first," the technician said, as if he'd just thought of it.

Qui-Gon waited until the technician tossed his food away and carefully wiped his fingers. Then he watched him load the new visuals. When he was sure the man would follow through on the plan, he left.

The last game had ended. Only four contestants remained.

The governor announced the names of the lottery winners. A mixture of groans and cheers erupted from the crowd. When he announced Den's name, Den shot to his feet, yodeling wildly.

He turned back to them, his eyes alight.

"Ready?"

Andra's gaze was steady. "Do not fail us, Den."

Den leaned over. "You've got to trust somebody sometime, Captain Integrity," he said softly.

"I know," Andra said. "But why does it have to be you?"

Then she smiled at him, a smile filled with trust. She briefly touched his cheek.

A slow, delighted smile spread over Den's boyish features. Still grinning, he strode off to join the other lottery winners onstage. Andra clasped her hands together.

"I trust him, too," Qui-Gon told her.

Obi-Wan shot him a look that asked, How can you be sure?

Qui-Gon wanted to tell him that sometimes he found it easier to read strangers than those close to him. When his heart wasn't involved, his instincts told him who could fail him, who would be true. He hoped that after this mission, he and Obi-Wan would have time to talk.

Obi-Wan leaned closer to him. "Are you certain about this?"

Qui-Gon nodded. "Yes, I am. But I also have swoops ready in case he takes off. Over the years, I've learned to back up my instincts."

The lottery contestants stood at small consoles. They wagered enormous sums on the final outcome. Den made a show of indecisive agony before placing his bet. Andra sighed.

"He can't resist a chance to show off," she said, her hands twisting nervously.

The final round began. It was a short replay of each of the games that had been played throughout the contest. By now the contestants were covered with sweat, grime, and blood. Each of the lottery winners sat on a dais, watching the action, knowing that their life savings depended on the outcome. This was the time that the crowd kept up one continuous roar.

The game of shock ball ended the match. Kama Elias suddenly zoomed past his opponent, who turned too sharply and spiraled out of control, taking a bad fall. Kama scored. The buzzer sounded. The games were over.

Den leaped off the dais and did a frenzied dance in the middle of the arena. The crowd loved it, screaming his name. The screens flashed DEN DEN DEN!!!!

Then the platform slowly rose from the center ring, and Xanatos stood, a commanding figure in black. He raised his arms to the crowd and the chant changed to his name. Thousands of feet pounded against the floor until the entire dome shuddered. XAN-A-TOS! XAN-A-TOS! XAN-A-TOS!

He raised a hand for quiet. Slowly, the cheers subsided. Then, his hypnotic voice boomed over the dome.

"Katharsis saves us!"

"YES!" the crowd responded.

"Katharsis enriches us!"

"YES!"

"Katharsis protects our sacred spaces!"

"YES!"

Qui-Gon looked up at the screens. Do it now, he urged the technician.

The scenes of the frenzied crowd disappeared. An image of the Sacred Pools took its place. But instead of the glittering crystal water, a foamy black pool appeared. Steam rose from the surface.

At first, the crowd didn't notice. Then another image flashed, and another. The hill of malab slabs. Mole miners. The scan grid lying near shattered stone. Giant machines sucking golden sand. Gravsleds parked on a once-pristine landscape.

Murmurs began. Xanatos did not notice them. His eyes were on the crowd, not the giant screens.

"Thanks to Katharsis, our beloved Telos is now ensured protection for generations," he said. "The people have spoken. They have safeguarded their legacy."

An image of the Offworld logo filled the screen. It was burned into a case of thermal detonators.

The murmurs of the restless crowd turned to a buzz of conversation that filled the dome like a room full of tech equipment gone haywire.

The next image was of mole miners being unloaded from the maintenance hauler. An image filled the screen: OFFWORLD.

The buzz turned into a roar of disbelief and anger.

Xanatos looked up at the screens at last. Qui-Gon watched him. Anyone else would have shown his surprise and anger. Xanatos just went still.

Shouting erupted around the dome. Many rose to their feet. The shouts rose in intensity. People began to stand on their chairs and raise their fists. A rhythmic pounding began, a demand more potent than a shouted question.

Xanatos raised his hands, motioning for silence. It took several moments for the crowd to quiet down.

"Why do you believe what you see?" he asked in a quiet, commanding tone. "Believe what I tell you. Someone is trying to inflame you. Someone is trying to trick you."