“Not because of an unforeseen problem,” she continued, “but due simply to his arrogance. His belief that he knew a shortcut the rest of his peers not only could not see, but would never see if he did not show the way.”

She tapped the small remote she held, and the lights dimmed as holographic projections filled the room. “Each of these diagrams elucidates the points that Kif failed to take into account, thus leading to the failure of his program, regardless of the promise it held for success.”

Petr glanced sideways for a moment at Jesup, startled to hear even a backhanded compliment from Jonnic. Did the rival scientist actually accept Kif’s theory? A slight shrug from Jesup reflected Petr’s inability to answer that question. Only time would tell.

“Diagram A demonstrates, of course, the most egregious error and yet the simplest correction of all the issues he failed to address. Why did he not use a mock-up JumpShip for this experiment? Rejecting such an obvious choice reveals Kif’s arrogance and recklessness. His imminent failure would then not have destroyed such a valuable asset as the Invader.”

Suspended among the glowing spheres of data, her long hair floating around her head in a halo of slowly undulating waves, her hypnotic voice flowing into the darkness, she captivated her audience like an avenging angel come to serve justice to mere mortals. Though Petr could not make out Kif in the shadows, he knew the man cowered on his seat, wishing he could avoid the inevitable consequences of his actions.

“Turn your attention to Diagram B, where his second error can be seen. The anchor points have no safety cutout feature. A simple series of explosive bolts would have saved the JumpShip; the DropShips could easily have been retrieved at a later time.”

“There were safety measures in place,” Kif exploded, surging up from his seat, his head just breaking into the light cast by the holographic images.

Jonnic flinched, then speared the man with an outstretched arm. “Do not interrupt me, stravag.”

“They malfunctioned,” he babbled, tumbling gently, unable to master his own maneuvering pack in his urgency to defend himself. “The vibrations must have disabled them, or—”

“Silence!” Petr spoke softly, but the chill of death in his voice cut off Kif’s protests as though he were struck dumb. “You will not speak until your turn in this trial, Scientist Kif. For your outburst, you have forfeited your right to present counterarguments point by point. If you commit a second infraction, I will pass judgment summarily, relegating you to the laborer caste. I will brook no further interference in this trial.” No need to ask if he understood.

Silence descended, a viscous entity born of Petr’s decree; even Jonnic recoiled from the ruling. Significant failure within a caste required the offending party be ejected from his station and moved to the next lower caste—in this case, scientist to technician. For a scientist of Kif’s abilities and preeminence to be relegated to the bottom rung of Clan society meant he would never be able to atone for his mistakes and regain his previous station through hard work and perseverance. Three lifetimes would not be enough to work his way up such a distant ladder.

A soft grunt echoed in the room as Kif reseated himself.

“Proceed,” Petr said. Though Jesup made no movement or sound, Petr knew—just knew!—that his aide was at this very moment thinking that those same iron-clad penalties should apply to the ovKhan.

How many times have I erred due to my arrogance? The lost market on Chamdo that led to such deadly conflict; the lost chance to build an enclave on Chesterton; the lost colony around Klathandu IV. Petr suppressed a shiver and shoved those thoughts deep into his mind.

Visibly collecting herself, Jonnic continued. “Diagram C illustrates another lapse in judgment. Though a series of counterweight balances were installed on the tethers to dampen oscillations and to compensate for shifting weight within the DropShips once the system entered standard use, the addition of antioscillation myomer lines to further strengthen against dangerous vibrations spiraling beyond accepted parameters would have prevented this entire affair.”

She slowly rotated around, centering attention on the final holographic image. “In this final image we see one more example of Kif’s arrogance and unwillingness to follow proscribed and logical steps for safety, which led to failure instead of success. Rather than risking four DropShips on a single collar, scientist Kif could have chosen to balance a pair of DropShips, an appreciably easier task. This would have allowed us to fully test and vet the entire system, measuring peak and trough parameters of each subsystem. Once full success was achieved, then a series of spinning axles could be built across any given JumpShip. Instead of four DropShips anchored to a single collar, a set of four collars—or more—could anchor eight vessels, each within a larger margin of safety, thus limiting the possibility of future mishaps and guaranteeing the Clan’s expansion within an acceptable margin of error.”

The imagery disappeared as she brought up the lights, then slowly rotated, bowing to the entire assembly. “Thus the primary points have been presented. Each of your compads have now received this data. I thank the assembly for hearing my words.” She finished, then smoothly transitioned back to her seat, a predator gone to ground, toying with her prey before launching for the throat.

“You have thirty minutes to review the material,” Petr announced, moving to the next phase, “then input any queries for scientist Jonnic in her second cycle of the Trial. At that time, scientist Kif may argue to prove the accusations false.”

“ovKhan,” Kif said, slowly standing.

Petr’s face darkened with rage at his audacity; gasps and startled murmurs swept through the gathering.

“I know I risk your extreme censure for once more breaking the forms of this trial,” he began. His voice gained composure as he spoke; his face and body took on the appearance of calm as though imposed by sheer force of will. “And if you deem me fit only for the laborer caste, I accept your judgment. Yet I would voluntarily spare the Clan’s expense of any more time and effort on my behalf. Of my own free will and accord, I do not contest the accusations against me. Scientist Jonnic is correct on all accounts. I speak a surkairede to voluntarily accept Abjurement from the scientist caste.”

The stunned silence thickened the air, tension drawn to the breaking point. Despite the man’s terrible failures and twice interrupting this council, Petr found admiration stirring within him. Staring at a man reborn from his broken state simply by admitting his failure and by his willingness to accept the consequences—when so many others would have fought like cornered diamond sharks to retain their place—Petr was compelled to his feet. “So be it,” he intoned, respect coating his words. Then he bowed deeply, holding the position for a long moment.

A ripple of surprise, then a wave of bows swept the assembly. Scientist Jonnic bowed last, stiffly, as though forced to perform the honorific against her will. Then, in a move that sent another shockwave through the assembly, she took two steps and grasped Kif’s shoulders, saying something only he could hear. He looked stunned, then pleased, a small smile lighting his face.

Kif bowed in return, then moved toward the entryway. His former colleagues turned away in unison; though the assembled scientists obviously respected Kif’s courage in making his choice, he was no longer of their caste, and no longer deserved their full attention.

The assembly began to break up. The abrupt conclusion to the trial, expected to stretch for many more hours, created small groups animated by emphatic nods and gestures.