"Uhm . . . we," and his voice sounded very faint. "We tried that, too."

"And . . . ?" prompted Yoz.

The door had flown open and the guards hesitated, waiting for the thick clouds ofgas to clear. They wore masks so that they could breathe. Now they peered carefully through the gas, trying to see where the insensate bodies of Kebron and Si Cwan might be.

They were able to make out, over in the corner, a fallen lump that seemed to have the general proportions of Cwan. But at first they couldn't see Kebron at all.

Then they did.

He had stepped forward from the mist, his mouth shut tightly. They didn't see hisfist, obscured as it was by the mist.

Kebron's fist went straight into the lead guard, striking a fatal blow. Then he raised the still-twitching corpse over his head and hurled it into the crowd of guards, knocking several of them back. He ripped the masks off two of them, and then slammed the door once again. The guards, Herz in the lead, bolted down thecorridor, not even waiting to hear the clang of the door as it slammed closed once more.

It wasn't the Thallonians' fault. They had not known that one of the only things more dangerous than a wounded Brikar is a wounded Brikar whom one has tried to gas into unconsciousness. Since Brikar can hold their breath for twenty minutes at a stretch, that was a useless maneuver. Unfortunately, they had found out the hard way.

Yoz turned to D'ndai and said, "I don't understand. If Kebron was such a formidable fighting machine, why didn't he do that on your ship? You said you had weapons leveled at him, and he simply raised his hands and didn't fight."

"It should be fairly obvious," said D'ndai. "He wanted to find out who was behind all of this. He wanted to get to the source of the situation. And now that he's accomplished that, he's making his stand, and waiting for my brother to come get him. And he will, make no mistake. M'k'n'zy and his people will show up. They won't believe that either Cwan or Kebron is dead unless they have corpses to prove it. And they will trace them here."

"Gentlemen," Yoz said slowly, "I am open to suggestions here."

"Who gives a damn about the Brikar?" said Zoran angrily. "Don't fiddle with gas to knock them out. Use poison gas. Even if it doesn't affect Kebron, it will be more than enough to obliterate Si Cwan. That's all that matters! We have to kill him!"

"And is that your opinion, as well?" D'ndai asked Yoz.

Yoz saw something in D'ndai's eyes. Something cool and calculating. "You feel that's not the case?"

D'ndai started to pace. "Yoz . . . my world fought a long war for freedom, against rather formidable odds. Every so often, the Danteri would foolishly . . . no offense," he interrupted himself as he addressed Ryjaan.

"None taken," said Ryjaan calmly.

"Every so often, the Danteri would capture a highprofile individual connected to our rebellion. They would make an example of him. They would execute him, usually in the most grisly fashion they could invent. Indeed, they'd try to outdo themselves every time. And all that happened was that they created martyr after martyr."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, Yoz, that Si Cwan could be more dangerous to you dead than alive. You and your associates have thrown out the royal family, but you haven't consolidated your power. Chaos and rebellion are rife throughout what's left of the empire. Those who supported the rebellion may be starting to think that they were sold a dream, and the reality does not match the dream. If they see Si Cwan . . . if they see him die well, honorably, bravely . . . that could set forces into motion that you are not prepared for."

"So I was right," Zoran said sharply. "I should have killed him when he was out on the science station. For that matter, you should have killed him, D'ndai! You had the opportunity!"

"I'm not your hired assassin, Zoran. You were mine. If you bungle the job, it's not my responsibility to clean up after you."

"That's what you say," Zoran said in an accusatory tone. "Or perhaps you simply didn't have the stomach for it."

D'ndai smiled evenly. He bore a passing resemblance to his brother, even though the years had not worn well on him. "You are, of course, entitled to your opinion."

"What would you suggest, D'ndai?" said Yoz. "That we let him go?"

"No!"thundered Zoran, looking angry enough to leap across the room and rip out Yoz's throat with his teeth for even suggesting such a thing.

"No, I'm not suggesting that," said D'ndai. "I am suggesting he be tried, in an open court."

Yoz appeared to consider that, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "It has its advantages."

"Advantages!" Zoran clearly couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What advantages?"

"It puts us across as rational, compassionate beings," said Yoz. "If we beat him into submission and he agrees to whatever crimes we accuse him of, people are not stupid. It will reflect poorly on us. We do not want to appear simply as the greater bullies, the more merciless."

"But what crimes can we accuse him of?" asked Zoran. "There is no concrete proof of anything that he directly had his hand in."

"That much is true. But the activities of the others in his family, and in the generations preceding him, are public knowledge. Guilt by association."

"And there is . . . something else," D'ndai said slowly. "Something that I myself was witness to. I have been," and he looked around uncomfortably, "I have been reluctant to say anything until now, for I have no desire to disrupt the alliance between the Thallonians and the Danteri. Such a disruption could only cause difficulties for my people."

"Disruption?" Ryjaan seemed utterly confused. Nor did Yoz or Zoran comprehend either, as their blank looks indicated.

"There were," and D'ndai cleared his throat. "There were certain 'private' arrangements made. Certain allies that we Xenexians acquired when we were fighting for our freedom."

"What allies?" asked Ryjaan, and then slowly the significant look that D'ndai gave Yoz was enough to focus him on the Thallonian. "You?" he demanded. "The Thallonians allied with Xenex against us? You!"

Yoz threw up his hands defensively. "I knew nothing of it! You speak of matters twenty years ago! I was not even chancellor then!"

"Aye," agreed D'ndai. "Yoz speaks truly. He was not involved personally . . . not to my knowledge. But Si Cwan was."

"Si Cwan?" Ryjaan looked stunned. "But he was barely out of his teens at that time!"

"The same might be said of my brother," replied D'ndai. "And look at all that he accomplished."

"Zoran, did you know of this?" Ryjaan demanded. Ryjaan looked to D'ndai, and for a long moment he was silent, wheels turning silently in his head.

"Well?" insisted Ryjaan. "At the time, you and Si Cwan were best friends. Did he mention anything of this to you?"

"No," said Zoran, sounding far more restrained than he usually did. "But there were any number of times that he left Thallon for lengthy periods. When he returned, he would never tell me where he'd been. He was rather fond of his secrets, Si Cwan was."