'They '11 pay a visit to thee.

look so worried. She grinned up at the three. They dont leave you hanging about here for weeks on end. Youll know by midday. Its anticipation that gets to you, and waiting! Killashandra knew that Chadria meant to reassure them, for both brain and brawn partners had been excellent hosts, with stories scurrilous and amusing, and stocks of exotic foods and beverages in the scout ships well-stocked larder to tempt every taste. With exquisite tact, the others had left Killashandra and Lars to enjoy their own company for the week in which the CS 914 hurtled from one corner of the sector to the Regulan planet at its center. Courtesy, however, had dictated to both Lars and Killashandra that they join the others at mealtimes and for evening conversations, and the occasional rehearsals of Larss defense against the warrants charges. Trag and Olav had begun a friendly competition over a tri-dimensional maze game which could last up to a day between well-matched players. Chadria and Samel had teamed up against the two men in another contest, one of multiple-choice, which could be expanded to include Lars and Killashandra whenever they chose to play. There was a strange dichotomy about that journey: the tug between learning more of each others minds and sating their bodies and senses sufficiently to cushion the imminent parting. On the final day, it was more than Killashandra or Lars could endure to make love: instead they sat close together, one pair of hands linked, playing the maze game with an intensity that bordered the irrational. Now Chadria swung back to the screens as their progress to the landing site closed with the linear diagram Samel displayed on the situation screen. Killashandra could not restrain the small gasp nor her instinct to clutch at Larss hands as the two positions matched and the scout ship settled to the ground. Here we are, Samel said in a tactfully expressionless tone. Ground transport is approaching. Glad to have had you all aboard and I hope that Chadria and I will meet you again. Chadria lifted her long frame from the chair, shaking hands with each one in turn, clasping Killashandras with an encouraging smile and giving Lars an impish grin before she kissed his cheek in farewell. Good luck, Lars Dahl! Youll come out on top! Feel it in my bones. Me. too, Samel added, and opened the two lock doors. Killashandra wished that she felt as positive. Then, suddenly, there was no way to evade the inevitable. They picked up 8 maximum aperature digital cameras their carisaks and filed out. Trag and Olav took the lift down first, permitting Lars and Killashandra a few moments privacy. Killashandra didnt know what she had expected but the ground transport was a four-seat skimmer, remote controlled, the purple-gold-and-blue emblem of the FSP Judiciary Branch unobtrusively marking the door panel. She took in a deep breath. Looking off to the massive tower of the entrance. As she had done for several days, she repeated to herself that justice would prevail, that the much edited wording of the warrant would support their hopes. And that the disclosure of subliminal conditioning would result in the swift dispatch of a revisionary force to overthrow the Elders tyranny on Optheria. But one Killashandra Ree, one-time resident of the planet Fuerte, barely four years a member of the Heptite Guild, had had no encounters at all with Galactic Justice, and feared it. She had never heard or known anyone who had been either defendant or plaintiff at an FSP court. Her ignorance rankled and her apprehension increased. Silently the four settled into the skimmer and it puffed along on its short return journey. It did not, as Killashandra half expected, stop at the imposing entrance. It ducked into an aperture to one side, down a brightly lit subterranean tunnel, and came to a gentle stop at an unmarked platform. There a man built on the most generous of scales, uniformed in the Judicial Livery, awaited them. In a state of numbness, Killashandra emerged. Killashandra Ree, the man said, identifying her with a nod, not friendly but certainly not hostile. Lars Dahl, Trag Morfane, and Olav Dahl. He nodded politely as he identified each person. My name is Funadormi, Bailiff for Court 256 to which this case is assigned. Follow me. I am Agent Dahl, number I know, the man said pleasantly enough. Welcome back from exile. This way. He stepped aside to allow them to enter the lift which had opened in the wall of the platform. It wont take long. Killashandra tried to convince herself that his manner was reassuring if his appearance was daunting. He towered above them and both Lars and Trag were tall men. Killashandra and Olav were not many millimeters shorter but she had never felt so diminished by sheer physical proportions. The lift moved, stopped, and its door panel slid open to a corridor,