The amplifier let out a blast of music followed by the commander's voice. "Surrender at once or the bride dies!"

Paralysis swept the courtyard. The only sound was the rattling of armor as the troopers picked themselves up. Many, too horrifyingly many, celebrants did not stir. Others gazed fixedly at the red wisp on the roof above them.

The yellow groom had lifted Krinata by the shoulders, out of the way of a falling trooper. Now, he gazed into her eyes, and said, quizzically, "You're human!"

Storm grunted, "Friend of Jindigar's," but his eyes were on the red-clad woman above them.

Yellow answered abstractedly, eyes on Bell, "Oh. That's all right, then." He set Krinata on her own feet.

At the next amplified command, the troopers locked shackles and tanglefoot fields onto the living celebrants.

Six men secured Jindigar, and were about to take him away when the commander ordered, "The Sister, too."

Krinata didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified.

Two huge vertical landers, with Ducal seals newly painted on their scarred old sides, swept down into the court. The entire family was packed into those riot-squad wagons. The only resistance was a bit of sullen foot-dragging. The grass was littered with too many corpses dressed in festive white, smeared darkly with blood. And now gas burpers had been brought up. Hostility would be met with an excruciatingly painful gassing that wasn't always entirely harmless.

A wall of guards and Rashions separated Krinata, Jindigar, and the bride and grooms from the others. The riot wagon was so crowded, people were unable to sit. The air rapidly filled with the stench of beamer burns, human and Lehiroh sweat, and in one case, vomit.

Storm turned to the wall, curled in on himself, agonizing over the result of defying the conscription order. "I never thought they'd do such & thing. Never!"

The blue groom gripped his shoulder and whispered, "Neither did we. We all discussed it. Everyone agreed."

"Shut up, you!" The bruised and grass-stained squad leader who had ogled Krinata now held a beamer on Jindigar.

Blue turned from Storm. Without so much as a narrowing of the eyes as warning, blue yelled, "Was it worth it?"

The fierce cheer was deafening in the confined space. Suddenly, the floor tilted, then tilted the other way, rocking them from side to side. The amplifier said, "Keep it down in there or you'll get seasick!"

But the atmosphere had changed. The guards sensed it, and Krinata saw fear in their eyes. If the entire Ensyvian population felt like this, did the Duke have a chance? Apparently, they could conscript Ensyvians, tax them into poverty, and take away all freedoms with impunity. But infringe on their religion, and whole families—even the least religious—would proudly fight to the death.

When they'd landed, they were offloaded through a chute reeking of animal dung into a huge bam jammed with lines of people being processed like prisoners. Storm whispered to Jindigar, "I wish now I hadn't invited you."

People shrank from Jindigar muttering that even to speak to a Dushau was death. But Storm and the whole family showed no signs of shunning him.

They were strip-searched. Krinata was amazed to see groups of all the other Razum species also being herded through. This was either a conscription center or a massive jailing operation. Were they impressing all criminals?

In line behind her, Jindigar muttered, "They're going to have a time stripping me." He began to pluck indigo and yellow feathers from his arms.

In the line ahead of Krinata, there was a scuffle as a trooper ripped the garment from a Lehiroh woman. The male Lehiroh in line behind her protested she was pregnant. The guard answered, "That can be taken care of handily."

This is not real. Please, don't let it be real. Krinata had been raised an aristocrat on one of the oldest colony worlds of humankind, amid traditions of uncompromised honor. No noble could lend a good name to such proceedings.

The feeling she'd had in the park came back. There were huge gaping cracks in the secure walls of the Allegiancy. The Empire just wasn't what she'd always imagined it to be. Was it ever? A nostalgic pain filled her eyes with tears.

Hearing her sniffle, Jindigar, behind her, risked muttering, "This is war, Krinata. A despot's war for power. It couldn't have happened two centuries ago. That Allegiancy was worthy of your loyalty... and mine."

With that consolation echoing in her mind, Krinata had to grasp all her courage and Zavaronne pride to disrobe before a man whose groin pulsed at her every move. He took his time stamping an ID on her belly, noticing her humanity with relish. Then he stamped the indelible number on her forehead, lingering as if he was going to kiss her. His breath was hot, but not foul. Yet she was revolted, her whole body quivering with disgust.

Jindigar, neither looking at her nor averting his gaze, stumbled deliberately. The handful of feathers he'd gathered flew into the guard's face, and he sneezed. Jindigar apologized profusely, meanwhile tangling his avian feet amid the human's boots. They both went down in a heap, Jindigar crying out a contrite apology for each new offense.

Krinata stared for a moment, then used the time to pull her robe about her. Jindigar helped the human to his feet, brushing stray feathers from the man's now dusty uniform, contriving to thrust more of them under the man's nose.

"As you can see," grunted Jindigar, "I've been trying to remove this costume, but it takes butyloline and alcohol to strip the adhesive."

The man swallowed his anger, looking Jindigar up and down. He snatched the walking stick away from the Dushau with a lurid epithet, and spat, "I know you people don't carry weapons, but this is forbidden. Next!"

At the exit line, they were issued a thin turquoise shirt and trousers outfit, cut the same for everyone and fitting no one. They wouldn't let her keep her robe even when she complained of the cold. Jindigar again claimed he needed solvent to "change clothes," but was issued an outfit with pants too short for him, and shirt too narrow. He handed them to Krinata, saying, "Two layers might help."

She gratefully donned the second layer, and whispered her thanks for helping her. He answered, "My situation could hardly be worse, so it was no risk."

Many of the pregnant Lehiroh could not wear the trousers at all and settled for the oversize shirts that almost covered them. Then they were herded out into the afternoon sun, separated into a number of groups, loaded into surface vans, and carted a short distance to another building Krinata never saw from the outside.

They lost touch with the rest of the family, but the bride and four grooms were shoved into an underground cell with Krinata and Jindigar.

Hours later, guards came and took Jindigar away. He forbade Krinata to fight for him, and Storm held her as she lunged reflexively at the guards. When he was gone, she cried. Bell came to sit with her, offering only a warm shoulder in comfort, for it was all she had.

But Jindigar returned, cleaned and dressed in turquoise shirt and pants that almost fit, and a grave expression.

When the guard left, he said, "Truth has been taken. There was nothing Arlai could do, and no one aboard had his central keys, so he's behaving under Allegiancy strictures. But everyone is being ferried down here."

In horror, she imagined the session he'd gone through that had yielded those few terse sentences. Yet he showed no outward sign of the strain. That worried her.

Hours passed in which guards tromped up and down outside their cell. It was one of five force-field enclosed cells at the end of a corridor. Strangers, Holot, were crammed into the cell next to theirs, and a group of humans into the end cell. Yet the two opposite were left empty.