Then, when Krinata was sure it was late night despite the relentless bright light, Truth's passengers arrived, bewildered, some still "walking wounded." Grisnilter was supported between two Dushau, his right leg dragging. The humans, Cassrians, Dushau and Holot were herded into the two opposite cells. They could see each other, but not hear.

Jindigar, though, had the answer. He questioned the other Dushau via sign language, explaining that it was a code often used in noisy environments.

Arlai, it seemed, was all right for the time being, his parting remark to them having been a pledge to keep Imp out of trouble until they returned. The authorities had assumed he was still under full Allegiancy restriction, but soon some Sentient would notice Arlai had not taken the new Allegiancy delimiting programming. Meanwhile, Arlai was determined to play it straight until he could rescue them.

Jindigar swore. "I wish I had a way to tell him to sit tight. There's no reason he has to go down with us. Why didn't he take off as planned? At least they'd be safe!"

"Ask," prompted Krinata.

Jindigar put the question and Grisnilter answered. Jindigar translated, "Because he refused to abandon us." He paced a circle, fretting, "But I ordered him to!"

"Maybe he knows how to get us out of this. Disobedience isn't built into him, is it?"

"He's mature. He had discretion. I hope he uses it."

"Have you ever had reason to mistrust him?"

Storm said, "Not exactly mistrust, no, but I remember the time on Dilatter when Arlai was orbiting empty while the Oliat and the entire team were encamped. He'd warned us there were hailstorms in the area, remember?"

Jindigar's mood lightened. He smiled as he said, "And we divined that none were going to hit our camp?"

Another of the Lehiroh said, "And Arlai..." And he gasped into silent laughter.

Another groom finished, talking to Bell and Krinata, "Arlai sent a probe into the upper atmosphere and disrupted the air currents just so one of those dratted storms drenched us when dinner was half-cooked!"

"And then he had the nerve to claim innocence!"

"He had a reason," argued Jindigar. "We'd become too complacent. But guarding ourselves against another practical joke, we set the double watch which saved our lives. Even an Oliat can't afford to become overconfident."

Storm squatted comfortably on the floor of the bare cell, toying with a thread. "I've often wondered if Arlai is psychic. Or maybe you've secretly trained him as an Oliat?"

Jindigar chuckled. "I've wished I could." He translated for those in the opposite cells. All but Grisnilter laughed. That began a marathon session of reminiscences in which Krinata submerged herself, not wanting to face where they were or what was to become of them.

When she'd long since given up expecting food, a meal of sorts arrived. It was a bucket of raw yeast-grown protein amenable to all their various metabolisms, palatable to none. It arrived on a tray via a trap in the wall, accompanied by a pile of plastic bowls—no spoons.

The five Lehiroh gulped it down willingly. Storm commented, "After two days of fasting, even this tastes good." To Bell he said, "It wasn't what I was planning for your wedding night, though."

For a moment, Krinata thought Bell's staunch good humor would hold. Then the woman broke into human-sounding sobs. If it were my wedding night, I'd be inconsolable.

The four grooms gathered about their bride, self-conscious. Krinata wished they could at least have some privacy, but knew that even if she wasn't there, the spy eyes in the ceiling would be active. Voyeurs! She made a rude gesture at the spy eyes and was rewarded with no reaction.

Exhausted, Krinata slid down the wall to slump at its base. The room was kept at a fairly amenable temperature, but she thought she'd never fall asleep. Yet she did.

The next morning, they were taken to a sanitation stall, open, public, brutal. She relieved herself and showered, wondering how she was enduring this, while knowing it was much worse for those whose cultures had nudity taboos.

By midmorning, they were taken from their cells—all twenty-eight Truth passengers and the five Lehiroh—to go before a magistrate where they were arraigned for espionage.

The magistrate's computer had only one entry under her name: wanted by the Emperor. Jindigar wasn't listed at all. She assumed the records showed he'd died on Cassr, meaning at least one of those soldiers had survived to tell the tale.

Krinata's understanding of Allegiancy law was worthless. Besides, martial law was in force, and they had no rights at all. All her aristocratic heritage made not the slightest impression on this Duke's magistrate. The Allegiancy may as well have never existed. It doesn't really exist anymore.

Remanded to the custody of a prison reputed to be impossible to escape from, they were herded into a large, windowless groundbus, fully automated so there was no driver to overpower. Rows of hard benches lined each side, with one long bench across the rear. As the door slammed and the bus began to move with a grinding roar that became a white-noise background, Krinata surveyed the hullmetal panels protecting the bus's onboard brain. It probably wasn't Sentient. But Jindigar was a circuitry wizard. Perhaps they could take over the bus. Where to go after that was the problem. She wasn't even sure where they were in relation to the spaceport.

With the Dushau clustered in the rear, ignoring everyone, she gathered the rest and started talking before she had a plan worked out. She was beyond desperation, and had to try something. The others listened, in the same mood.

"I could get us to the spaceport," offered Storm. "I grew up around here."

Bell eyed the hullmetal panel, ran a hand over it, and said, "The welds are softique, the stuff used in gross circuits. A current would melt them away in a flash."

"The light!" exclaimed Trassle, climbing onto his seat and ramming the light fixture with his closed, chitin protected hand. Dimness descended as the only light left came from the rear fixture. But Trassle pulled a live wire down. "Luckily, this bus must date from pioneer days."

Storm said they had plenty of time since their new prison was more than two hours from where they'd started. Bell went to work on the bulkhead and Krinata went to the rear to talk to Jindigar.

She was stopped by a wall of indigo bodies. Desdinda stood off to one side, arms crossed, watching something on the bench spanning the rear of the bus. Her ah– of bristling disapproval told Krinata she was looking at Jindigar.

Rinperee said, "Don't interrupt them."

Craning her neck, Krinata could make out Grisnilter lying on the rear seat, Jindigar seated next to him, speaking in the dreadfully kind whisper usually reserved for the terminally ill. "What's the matter with Grisnilter?"

Jindigar looked around. "Krinata?"m face, as if the woman's wildest surmise of perfidy had been triumphantly confirmed. / must be misreading that! Krinata pushed it out of her mind and concentrated on Jindigar and Grisnilter, kneeling beside them, rolling with the sway of the floor. She told them of her half-baked plan, ending, "So all you have to do is figure out how to scramble the onboard and reprogram our destination."

A pinched, haunted anxiety descended on Jindigar's eyes. He gazed at Grisnilter. The old Dushau showed pale teeth, holding Jindigar's eyes with his own. Grisnilter's air of intense demand was replaced by silent helpless pleading.

At last Jindigar spoke. "In the time we've got left, I can either try to rewire this bus, or try to take your impression. Grisnilter, how many lives is it worth?"

Desdinda started to say something, but was silenced by the others. Rinperee said, "All of our lives, and more."