Phelan latched on to the word sibko. I know I've heard that before. What? Where? When? Who am I?

The Confessor's voice helped him refocus himself. "The Free Worlds League has troops. How many regiments does it have?"

Phelan closed his eyes. "Seventy, probably. Andurien lost most of their units when they seceded, in the war with the Capellan Confederation, and then when Thomas Marik took them back into the League. Marik still has to keep troops there to keep the peace."

"And the Federated Suns .. . How many regiments do they have?"

Phelan frowned. The Federated Suns and the Lyran Commonwealth have integrated their commands. They want to know about my home!

"Resistance building, sir. He has linked the Suns with the LyrCom."

The Confessor's voice rasped quietly, sounding to Phelan like a knife being drawn from a sheath. "If you cannot tell me about the Federated Suns, we will have to know about the Nagelring."

"No! No, no, no, no, no ..." Words falling meaninglessly from his lips, Phelan's consciousness ricocheted around in his skull. No, no, no, not that.Shame burned on his cheeks, then his anger broke like a fever and tears rolled from his eyes. The Federated Suns is too big to hurt.

"The AFFS has 103 regiments."

"He is still resisting."

Disappointment echoed through the Confessor's voice. "103 regiments and ... ?"

Phelan tried to hold his answer in, but cracks had developed in the dam he'd tried to build up. "The Davion and Steiner militaries have been merged into one and the whole thing is called the Armed Forces of the Federated Commonwealth."

"Good, very good, Phelan." Someone patted his leg reassuringly. "Keep up the cooperation and we can end this soon. How many regiments does the LCAF have?"

The mercenary's whole body tensed. He tried to withhold the information, but a voice inside his head whispered seductive arguments that gnawed away at his resolve. What have the Lyrans ever done for you, Phelan? They humiliated you and cast you out of the Nagelring. They murdered DJ with their stupidity. Think of all the times you vowed you would avenge her if you had the force. You don't have it, but they do. All you have to do is tell them what they want to know and your shame will be absolved.

Phelan felt as if a million fire-ants were marching over his body, feasting as they went. He searched his brain for the information on the Lyran Commonwealth's troop strengths, but instead he ran headlong into reasons why he could not give the Commonwealth up. My father and mother are fanatical in their devotion to the Steiner family. Victor Steiner-Davion is my cousin. To betray the Commonwealth is to betray them, to betray everyone I love. I cannot!

The Confessor's voice gained an edge. "Take him up to eighty and back down again immediately."

The mercenary heard the menace in those words and tried to brace himself for the drug's effect, but he could never have anticipated it. He felt a tremor begin at his feet and knew that a wave had begun in the kilometers of ribbon that made them up. Moving up beyond his knees, it built in intensity and coursed through his thighs. He saw his whole body flapping in a technicolor wind. As the power of the wave increased almost beyond endurance, it suddenly broke like a mighty explosion in his brain.

Over Phelan's scream of agony, the Confessor repeated the question. "How many regiments does the Lyran Commonwealth have?"

Phelan fought to resist, but the words had already reached his throat and tongue. "One-hundred fifty-three regiments. The sixty-five coming from Skye and Tamar are questionable in loyalty because the Archon has forbidden them to try to take back former Tamar Pact worlds from Rasalhague."

His body quivered and sobs wracked his chest, but nothing could free him from his bonds or his tormentors. Hothead's evil chuckle underscored and mocked the Confessor's strong voice. "Very good, Phelan. Now we will start again, from the beginning, and make sure everything tallies. Work with us and we will not have to hurt you again ..."

13

Skondia

Federation of Skye, Lyran Commonwealth

31 December 3049

Drenched in sweat, Kai Allard rested his hands on his hips and raised his face to the sky. These hills really make me wonder about my commitment to running.He laughed to himself. On Skondia, running isn't a commitment. It's a sentence!He snaked his hands under the hem of his red t-shirt, raising it to wipe his face.

When he pulled the shirt down again, he saw her for the first time. Her black hair barely brushed the shoulders of the oversized gray sweatshirt she wore. The black and green body suit underneath hugged her long, well-muscled legs, the design's green elements swirling up her limbs like long blades of grass. With her right heel resting on a park bench, she leaned over and grasped the toe of her right shoe and pulled herself forward to touch her nose to her kneecap.

As she unfolded, she caught sight of Kai watching her and seemed to become self-conscious. Though she smiled, her blue eyes were wary as a cat's. She brought her arms close to her chest, obscuring the New Avalon Institute of Science crest on the sweatshirt, and began to perform waist-twists. "Hello."

"Sorry to startle you," Kai said. "I'd not expected to see anyone else here this early in the morning." He glanced out over the misty green ,valley where he'd just run. "They've got a beautiful exercise course set up here, but you couldn't tell that from the number of people using it."

He took a half-step forward and saw her drift back easily. He pointed at the tan canvas bag near her end of the bench. "Could you toss the bag to me? I'd like my towel."

Her reserve broke as she lofted the bag to Kai. "How well did you do?"

Kai frowned. "Pardon?"

She smiled and Kai instantly decided he liked that very much. "Your shirt... it's from the Twenty-fifty New Avalon Myriameter Run. How well did you do?"

Kai pulled a white towel from his bag and mopped his face. "Uh, I finished in the fifties."

She lifted her other leg to the bench and began to stretch. "Was that place or time?" Her question came without challenge or skepticism and that pleased Kai.

She's not yet decided if I am a liar or a fellow runner whom she can trust."Place. My time was 43:35. I should have done better, but I died late in the race."

She laughed easily. "Heartbreak Hill!"

Kai matched her laugh with his own. "You know it? I mean you've run in the race?"

Her black hair whipped back and forth as she shook her head. "No, not the race, just the course. I'm not much for competition." She straightened up. "That hill is a killer. It may only be a kilometer and a half back through Davion Peace Park to the finish line, but it might as well be a light year after that hill."

Kai hung his towel around his neck and raised one of his legs to the bench. A droplet of sweat rolled off his nose as he bent forward to stretch out his hamstring. "You're right. The hill is death itself. Still, running through the park, I got a lift from the Silver Eagle memorial."

"How is that?" She shuddered visibly. "That statue is so horrible. That dog's all torn up and obviously in pain. Just as obviously the panther is going to kill it. I found it depressing." Her face screwed itself tight with distaste. "It's so violent I don't see why it's in the Peace Park."