He glanced at Cerasi. She stared out over the crowd, her face white, her hands gripping the edge of the table. She met his gaze with despair. The unity of the Young was disintegrating before their eyes.

In the days after the meeting Obi-Wan and Cerasi could only watch helplessly as the Young splintered apart. Nield would not talk to them. He moved aboveground and slept with Mawat and the Scavenger Young in the park.

Heartbroken, Obi-Wan and Cerasi could only try to heal the division they had caused.

We cannot let this divide us, they pleaded.

But the divide only grew wider.

Nield worked on Mawat to convince the Scavenger Young to support him.

If he had enough votes, he could overthrow the entire council and call for a new one. He targeted Obi-Wan as an outsider who had no right to make decisions for Melida/Daan.

"If he succeeds, war could break out again," Cerasi whispered to Obi-Wan late one night as they sat up together in the vault. "If the Elders see that we are divided, they will use the rift to divide us further."

"I should resign from the council," Obi-Wan declared. "It's the only way to end this."

Cerasi shook her head. "We fought because we believed in ending tribal rivalries. Remember our slogan, We Are Everyone? If we start singling out who hasn't been born here, how is that any different from tribal prejudice?"

"Still, it would heal us temporarily," Obi-Wan argued.

"Don't you see, Obi-Wan?" Cerasi asked despairingly. "It is already too late."

Obi-Wan got up restlessly and wrapped his cloak around himself. He drew comfort from Cerasi, but he needed answers she couldn't give. He said a quiet good night to her and headed aboveground.

The night was cold. He climbed onto a nearby roof in order to be closer to the stars. Reaching inside his tunic, he withdrew the river stone that Qui-Gon had given him as a thirteenth birthday present. As usual, the stone was warm. When he held it between his hands, it heated them. Obi-Wan closed his eyes. He could almost feel the presence of the Force. It had not deserted him. It could not. He had to remember that.

He needed Qui-Gon. His Master was not the most talkative companion, but Obi-Wan had not fully realized how much he relied on Qui-Gon's counsel. He could use it now.

Once, when he was Qui-Gon's Padawan, he had only to concentrate and he could summon Qui-Gon. Now he reached out and felt nothing.

Events were slipping out of his control. Everything he'd fought for was now in danger, and he had no idea how to fix anything. There were plenty of people to talk to on Melida/Daan, but no one whose mature insight he could depend on. Even Cerasi was at a loss.

If war threatened to break out, could he appeal to the Temple to send a Jedi as guardian of peace? Would they send Qui-Gon? Could he dare to ask such a thing?

And if he asked, would Qui-Gon come?

Because of heightened security, the illumination bank was turned off.

The darkness was absolute. Luck was with them, Qui-Gon thought. He crouched with Tahl in the trees by the shoreline of the lake. He could barely make out the glint of the water.

"At last we're even," Tahl murmured when Qui-Gon told her how dark it was.

They had calculated that another theft would happen that evening. They had seen the thefts fall into an escalating pattern. It was time to follow up on the stunning theft of the crystals with another crime. The thief would need to conceal what he or she stole, and would come to the lake.

Or so they hoped.

Tahl would not stay behind. He had argued with her and lost. If Qui-Gon saw who the culprit was, she could get the news back to Yoda.

Qui-Gon might need to follow the thief. Tahl had argued that they should not rely on corn-links for communication. This was too important. And they needed to do everything as silently as possible. It was best not to tip off the thief.

"All right," he finally agreed. "Just leave TooJay in your quarters."

They had been waiting for five hours. Every so often they would stand and stretch each muscle in a Jedi exercise known as "stationary movement."

That kept them awake and their muscles fluid.

The lakeside was so still that it was no more than a flickering of a leaf that alerted Qui-Gon to the presence of another. Tahl had heard it; perhaps she had even heard a disturbance earlier, for her head was already turned toward the sound.

Qui-Gon called on the Force to help him. He was dressed in a dark robe and blended in perfectly with the vegetation. He kept himself perfectly still.

A figure emerged onto the beach from their left, not from the path he had anticipated. The figure was hooded, but Qui-Gon saw that it was a boy.

Judging by his height, it was one of the older boys. The stance was familiar, too, Qui-Gon did not have to wait until the hood fell back to reveal the gleam of a white ponytail to know that it was Bruck.

He leaned over and put his lips to Tahl's ear. He whispered Bruck's name, and she nodded.

Bruck sat on the shore and took off his boots and outer cloak. Then he tied a waterproof parcel around his neck, lit a glow rod and waded into the lake. He took a deep breath and disappeared.

"He's underwater," Qui-Gon said in a low tone to Tahl. "When he comes out, I'll follow him. You wait here. Don't move a muscle. He must not realize that he's being followed."

"All right," Tahl agreed. "If you're not back in fifteen minutes, I'll get help."

In minutes, Bruck resurfaced and swam with a strong stroke to shore. He walked out of the lake and pulled on his boots, then pulled the cloak around him. Instead of heading back to the turbolift, he chose an overgrown path.

Qui-Gon knew it well. It led through the undergrowth toward the utility buildings that held floaters and hydrocrafts.

Qui-Gon followed behind. Bruck could be heading for a meeting. He could be heading to where he'd stashed the other stolen objects. Either way, they would learn something important tonight.

Bruck was being careful, but Qui-Gon was more so. He had more practice in moving silently than the boy did. He followed Bruck by sound rather than sight.

The overhanging trees blocked out the surroundings as the path wound farther away from the lake. Soon they would be at the utility sheds. Would someone be there to meet Bruck? Qui-Gon picked up his pace slightly so that he could see the boy.

"Tree root, two centimeters ahead." A well-known voice split the silence. "Leaf frond, three centimeters straight ahead at eye level!"