Black Leather shrugged and knelt beside the nearest pod, which was opening slowly, like some strange flower. A blond-haired girl of about Ava's age was becoming conscious, clawing at the gestational membrane that was her body's only covering. In the pod beside her, a dark-haired boy did the same.

Zan! Ava thought when she saw the boy. And Vilandra! She knew them instinctively, even though their present forms were so different from the ones she knew. They were younger than Black Leather, their skin unwrinkled and pink, rather than gray. Their eyes and heads were a great deal smaller and hairier than their native Antarian forms. Relief and elation swept through her at the sight of them; maybe their presence was a sign that there was a way out of this situation that wouldn't involve any further bloodshed.

In far less time than it had taken Ava, Zan was standing confidently, watching the Black Leather man. Vilandra seemed to take a few moments longer to adjust to her surroundings.

Zan looked deliberately toward Ava, then spoke in Old High Antarian. "My knowledge of how the jour oj us cam here is incomplete. But I believe we were released prematurely from these… gestational chambers. I need to know why. “

Her hand shaking, Ava pointed at Black Leather. "Ask him. He is the one responsible for that. As well as for the death of that being." She gestured toward the bloody corpse that lay on the floor.

Zan looked toward the dead man, then regarded Black Leather with a defiance that Ava could only describe as regal.

"What do you want of us?" Zan said, standing between Black Leather and the two girls.

"Great," Black Leather, said, rolling his bloodshot eyes skyward. The knife suddenly returned to his hand, gleaming in the sunlight. "Not only was my latest merchandise over-nighted in on a flying saucer, but it speaks freakin' Klingon, too. Where you from, Tattooine? France? “

He wants to take us as slaves, Ava thought. But first he has to frighten us. She could tell from her relentless shivering that Black Leather's tactic was working very well indeed, at least on her. She despised herself for her timidity.

"Put the knife down," Zan commanded.

Black Leather advanced confidently toward the Antai›-ian king. Though Zan now wore the body of an alien child, he didn't flinch. Instead, he crouched slightly, adopting a knees-bent, combat-ready stance.

Black Leather laughed, though his knife remained pointed straight at Zan's heart.

Please, Ava thought helplessly. Must anyone else die here today? Frantic to find a way out, her eyes lit on the fourth pod, which had lain unnoticed a few feet away during the emergence of Zan and Vilandra.

The shape that had been slumbering within the farthest pod was gone. This time, Ava tried not to telegraph her reaction "Lower the weapon," Zan said to Black Leather, and raised an admonishing hand. "You will not be warned again. “

"Whatever. Maybe you just need a little of the universal language," the thug said, and slashed at the air near Zan's right ear.

The young king continued to stand his ground. "So be it. You have made your choice. Now you must live with it. “

"Or die with it. “

Everyone turned toward the new voice, which seemed to be coming from the depths of the storage shed, an area still cloaked in shadows. A moment later, another naked male child emerged into the light. He was blond, appeared to be about the same age as the others, and seemed, 1 Zan, to fear nothing. So strange, Ava thought, to see such old souls bound up in the bodies of mere children.

The blond boy approached the knife-wielding man without hesitation. Not only did his mien continue to radiate boldness, it seemed to have little room for other emotions, save barely constrained rage. She wondered just j how much of Black Leather's violence he had witnessed.

The youth smiled at the knife wielder. It was a warrior's grin, and Ava felt a chill when she recognized it.

Rath. He must have slipped out of his pod unnoticed.

"Hold, General," Zan commanded, addressing Rath.

Rath continued walking toward Black Leather, halting only a few feet away from him.

"Okay, this is getting truly weird," said the man with, the knife, looking all around him. He had the air of a man who was rapidly losing control of circumstances. "How many more of you Children of the Damned are hiding out in here? Is this some sort of clubhouse for you naked little freaks, or what? “

"You've threatened the person of the king," Rath said, his eyes focused like lasers upon Black Leather.

"Stand down, General," Zan told Rath. "I will handle this. “

Rath behaved as though he hadn't even heard Zan. Still looking Black Leather in the eye, he said, "No one threatens the king, or any of the Royal Four. Not while I live. “

He raised a hand.

"No!" shouted Zan and Ava in unison. Vilandra merely smiled appreciatively at Rath. She had obviously recognized her predestined mate, despite their strangely altered forms.

Black Leather tried to swing his knife arm toward Rath, to no avail. The man was suddenly frozen, like an insect trapped in tree-resin, his eyes widened in fear. Rath made a slashing gesture with his hand, releasing a burst of dazzling light and potent energies. The man flew headfirst into the cinder-block wall, a human projectile.

Ava saw the gray-and-scarlet ruin that had been the knife-mans head. She wondered if he'd had time to feel pain before the end had come.

Rath calmly walked to where Black Leather lay, and helped himself to the dead man's coat. The boy passed a still-glowing hand over the garment's collar and lapels, which had been fouled by blood. A moment later, the coat was spotless.

Zan wasted no time confronting him. "That was not necessary, Rath. I could have disarmed him easily. “

Rath didn't respond immediately; he seemed preoccupied with the act of helping himself to the dead man's trousers and boots. His hands glowing, he used his innate power to resize the garments. In moments, they were a near-perfect fit for his smaller form.

Picking up the dead man's knife, Rath finally looked Zan in the eye. "He might have come after you later, if we'd let him live. This creature was too dangerous for mercy. “

"I decide on the Royal Four's actions, Rath. Not you," Zan said.

"Zan is right," Vilandra said, pointing toward the ruined skull of the man Rath had just slain. She sounded disappointed that she'd had to take the king's side in this dispute. "If this… creature still lived, we might have pulled something useful from out of its mind. “

An idea occurred to Ava then. Walking carefully around the wreckage of the crates and the opened gestation pods, she crossed to the body of the white-garbed man whom the knife-wielder had slain. Forcing aside the sick feeling in her gut, she knelt beside the body and touched its still-warm forehead.

Rath didn't seem to notice what Ava was doing. "Forgive me," he said to Vilandra in a sneering tone. "It didn't occur to me to negotiate with the local wildlife. “

Ava looked down at her hands. Like Rath's, they now glowed with raw, unfocused power. We are still but children on this world. It will probably take us some time to master our Antarian gifts again.

But she knew there wouldn't be any time for that. They were out of the safety of their gestation pods, ready or not. They were naked and defenseless in a strange place, and they needed help now.

As carefully as she could, Ava reached out with her mind, gently probing whatever wisps remained of the dead man's thoughts.

It was as though she'd fallen into an erupting volcano. Though his body no longer breathed, his brain, now in the midst of shutting down, was a frenetic beehive of activity. She was caught in a whirlpool of memories. School, language, parents, lovers, children, music, history, maps… The onslaught was relentless, a gale-force blizzard of disjointed thought. A brilliant light silently called out to her, tugging at her with an inexplicable gravity. She screamed, suddenly fearful that the dying man was dragging her to her own destruction. Her mind scrabbled desperately away from the light, seeking the shelter of darkness.