They were stuck on a planet, the only other sentient being a protoss so far gone in trauma and self-pity that he was unreachable. The tumors in his brain were growing almost daily, and Zamara, the preserver, who had seen so much, who knew so much, who seemed to have all the answers, who had met every challenge with calm and aplomb, had no idea what to do about any of it.

ROSEMARY WAS DOING HER DEAD LEVEL BEST TO keep from punching either the wall or her guard, and for the most part she was succeeding. But four days had ticked by—though the days here never got truly bright, there was a clear demarcation between night and day—and there was no sign of any movement.

She was naturally a headstrong woman, but she was also smart enough and experienced enough to know when to be calm and exercise patience and when to push.

She had been trying the former, but when the door opened and a protoss who was not her guard nor Selendis entered, she almost literally had to bite her tongue to keep from exploding at him.

"It is I, Vartanil," the protoss said, executing a deep bow. Rosemary still had difficulty distinguishing between individual protoss, but she was getting better at it. The fact that their mental "voices" were unique helped. Her impatience faded slightly as she realized she knew this protoss.

"You stood up for me when we came through the warp gate," she said, remembering. "You tried to convince the guards to open the gate back up so Jake could come through." He inclined his head, almost shyly. She smiled at him, the first genuine smile she'd had since setting foot on this obsessively blue planet. "Thanks."

"I only wish I had been more convincing."

"Well, you tried at least. And honestly, I suppose I can't blame them. To risk putting out a welcome mat for the zerg on a story they couldn't verify—I guess I understand."

She blinked as realization struck. "Hey.. .you're here. They let you out. What happened?"

"They assisted me in clearing the Sundrop from my system," Vartanil said. "Many sat with me, reached their minds to mine, and when I was able, comforted me via the Khala. You, Rosemary Dahl, had only Jacob and Zamara to aid you. You are strong indeed."

Rosemary was strong, and she knew it, and the knowing wasn't egotistical. She was always keenly aware of both her strengths and weaknesses; an honest understanding of both was simply smart. But somehow, Vartanil's praise made her feel uncomfortable.

"Yeah, well, maybe it didn't hit me as hard," she said. "I'm glad you're all right though. Did they believe you? About Jake and Zamara?"

He nodded. "Once I was purified of the drug, I spoke with Executor Selendis herself." His mental voice held tones of awe. "She also spoke with the others. We all verified your story. She believes us."

Rosemary's patience, stretched to the breaking point, now snapped. "Then where the hell is she? Why am I still in this damned prison?"

"It is not a prison."

"Where I come from, any place that you can't leave when you feel like it is a prison," Rosemary shot back.

"Selendis is the executor. She has a great deal of responsibility. When we linked in the Khala, I sensed part of her concern—over Jacob, over Ulrezaj, over the protoss left behind. There is much she needs to weigh, to consider, before she can make a wise decision."

Rosemary turned to him. She got the sensation that he was younger than many of the other protoss she had met, though she couldn't quite say why.

"Vartanil... Jake's sick. Really sick. Having Zamara inside him is killing him. And if he dies, she and all that information you protoss say is so valuable dies right along with him. This should be a top priority with your people."

Vartanil fidgeted, confirming Rosemary's theory that he was a younger individual. She'd never seen any of the other protoss fidget. They seemed totally disinclined to waste a single movement.

"When I was released," said Vartanil, "they said I was free to go. I came here. To you. I wanted to let you know as soon as possible what had happened. And.. .1 wish to pledge my service to you."

"Huh? To me?" She stared at him, baffled.

He nodded eagerly. "To you—and Jacob, and Zamara. Alzadar believed in you. I fear he is dead for that belief."

Rosemary thought about the slaughterfest she'd escaped back on Aiur and shared Vartanil's fear. Anyone who didn't get through the gate was likely dead. She was pretty sure Jake made it through—the guards did say that someone was redirected—but the thought that it might be too late for him, that it might have been too late when she stepped foot on Shakuras, made her throat tighten.

"Alzadar chose to stay behind," she said, and cleared her throat. "He helped buy us time."

"And he died freely, a templar to the end. Rosemary Dahl—I am not a templar. I am of Furinax lineage, a member of the Khalai caste. Before the zerg came, I was a craftsman. I carved wooden objects. I was and am proud of my skills, but I deeply regret that I am not trained in warfare, to serve you better now. But what I can do, I will."

Yep, he was young all right, with that dreadful earnestness that only the young possessed. Still, it was oddly touching. Rosemary had had her share of admirers, but they usually all wanted something from her. What they wanted varied—money, position, or something more intimate—but it was still the same story. But this protoss—his thoughts were perhaps the purest thing she'd ever known. She shifted slightly, uncomfortable with the adulation, and decided that since it probably really wasn't directed at her but at Jake and even more so Zamara, it was okay.

"Uh... thanks."

He beamed at her, and she smiled back. They stood in silence, and then Rosemary said, "So...you just going to hang around then?"

"Until we depart to find Jacob and Zamara, yes."

She couldn't censor her thoughts well enough and he cocked his head. "You do not wish my company?"

"It's not that, it's just—I'm ready to be going. To be doing something. Do you have any idea when Selendis will make her decision?"

"I already have," came the thought, before the door even opened to admit the executor. She looked every bit as poised and in control as she had before. Rosemary squared her shoulders and regarded theprotoss steadily.

"And it is?"

Selendis cocked her head and returned Rosemary's gaze. "The protoss who accompanied you have verified your story in the Khala. Even those who are not overly fond of you."

It was meant as a sort of rebuke, but it had the opposite effect. Rosemary grinned suddenly. She was used to being disliked, and somehow, it gave her hope.

"Well, that's good. So when do we leave?"

"I do not know if we will depart at all. We must convince Artanis and the others that this is a worthy mission, worth taking the risk."

Rosemary had thought that all she needed was to get this female on her side. But apparently, convincing Selendis was just the first step. Out of God knew how many.

"I regret if you got that impression," said Selendis, answering what hadn't even been asked yet. "The final decision on such a thing involves many more than I."

"Stop doing that!" Rosemary snapped. "Let me say my thoughts out loud, don't just barge in and read them!"

"I apologize," the executor said unexpectedly. "I am unused to not being able to freely peruse surface thoughts. I shall not intrude uninvited again, unless I feel the need warrants it."

"Uh...okay. Thanks." It was something, anyway. Rosemary composed herself. "I'm.. .glad you believe me." Beside her, Vartanil, who had no compunctions about his thoughts being read, was delighted.

"I have asked for an audience," Selendis continued. "I have hopes they will grant it." "Can I get out of here?"