Akemi repeated her request. "I would be honored if the two Rik known as Sage and Shara might be executed first."
The Pontifex inclined his head toward the nearest guard. "Call forward those Rik."
Nat saw Shara's eyes get wide as she heard her name called. She and Sage moved forward until they were no more than ten feet away. Nat bit her lip in frustration. She'd realized things were going this direction, but she didn't know how to stop it.
Faal smiled and looked at the Pontifex. "I have no objection to granting this request. Do you?"
"You are the host," the Pontifex said. "Do as seems best to you."
"No," Nat burst out. "Akemi doesn't want that. There's something wrong with her and –"
"I can speak for myself, thanks to this nifty voicebox," Akemi said, "so please believe me when I say, I know exactly what I want."
"No, you don't!" Nat said. "Don't you remember how you urged me to let Shara come with us? Don't you remember that Sage and the others saved my life – just weeks ago? For that alone, you owe them better than this."
"He didn't save you. I saw it. He – you fell – Claire –" the voicebox made an odd noise like bad feedback on a microphone. "He doesn't deserve anything."
Nat glared at Faal. "I don't know what you did to her, but if she's broken, it's your doing."
He spread his hands. "I do not deny that I break things that are breakable, but I'm not the one who put her in that box. If she wishes to take revenge on those who plotted her death, even I would not deny her that."
Shara could hear the conversation now, and she looked heart-broken. "Akemi, you know I never wanted you to die. You're my best friend –"
"Best friend? You turned me over to the Rik! You didn't hear Nat screaming for hours while they tortured her. You didn't feel the cold vacuum when they tore out my brain and discarded my body."
"I know, but..."
"But what? What can you possibly have to say about that?"
Shara spread her hands. "I thought you forgave me."
***
Claire abruptly stood up and started walking down the nearby stairs. "I can't stand this. We have to get closer."
Basher jumped several stairs to catch up with her. "We're not getting anywhere near Faal."
"Not too near – but something is happening. Look! There's Shara coming forward to talk to them now. Akemi must be working this out. Let's get close enough to hear and be ready when it happens."
Basher followed her down the stairs. The other aliens, growing bored with the long and unexpected wait, watched them with interest.
"I don't think Akemi's plan is working," Basher said. "Shara looks upset, and – I think you need to prepare yourself for the worst."
Claire glanced back at him with a strange expression. "I don't even know what that would be."
She jogged down the steps and when they reached a broader walkway, took the nearby aisle that led toward the Pontifex's platform.
When they were only twenty rows from him, Claire still hadn't stopped so Basher was forced to grab her arm.
"No further," he said firmly.
There was absolutely no room in these packed rows for them to sit down, and he felt exposed with them standing on the stairs. They would be clearly visible if Faal turned around to face the crowd again. Basher pulled her down to sit on the step next to him. They were still rather too obvious, sitting in the aisle, but at least they were at the same height as everyone else.
"I don't know if we can hear them from here," Claire said, but then Faal started speaking, and they could hear him just fine. Too well, in fact.
"The crowd is restless and I must begin," Faal said. "The Pontifex should have the final say on the first executions."
The Pontifex turned in his chair to look back at Nat and Sam, and Basher finally got a good look at his face.
"I understand your concern," the Pontifex said to Nat, "and as much as I have lately enjoyed your company, yet I still agree with Faal. Akemi asks a reasonable favor, and I generally choose to oblige my guests."
Claire took a deep, excited breath. "She did it. He's giving her a favor!"
The Pontifex waved his hand. "Begin with those two."
'Wait, begin with those two? What does he mean?" Claire sputtered.
Four guards surrounded Shara and Sage and began to walk them toward the ladders that led to the tall platforms and the gallows.
Claire stood up but Basher pulled her back down.
***
Akemi knew Claire and Basher had moved closer to the front, she could see the view from both of their glasses while they came down the stairs.
Akemi had known Claire wouldn't be able to stay away when she saw what was happening. In a way, what was about to happen next wasn't even Akemi's fault. If Claire had the strength to stay away from the Rik, this would never have happened.
"Claire," Akemi called, using her voicebox at its highest level. "Can you hear me?"
She knew from Claire's jerk and Basher's gasp that they could.
Apparently Sage also heard her, because he spun around and searched the front rows with his eyes. The guards grabbed his arms and turned him around again, but he craned his head back, still looking for Claire.
"Claire, didn't I warn you about falling for a Rik?" Akemi said. "If you have anything to say, this is your chance. Last chance."
Claire stood abruptly and began to approach, dragging Basher behind her.
Akemi laughed. "Ah, there you are. Sorry, Basher, this'll only take a few more minutes."
Akemi saw Faal looking at Claire with satisfaction. Akemi didn't like the look, but she couldn't care about that, because... Akemi's thought trailed off. She was having trouble focusing again, but she could remember her plan and stick to it.
"Faal," Akemi said, "At the conclusion of this execution, I would like to propose another trade. You may have Claire back, and I will go with my friends. I think you are honest enough to admit that our relationship was useless to us both."
***
The Diarena felt ill. The computer was completely out of control, and Faal looked as smug as a Velusian dung beetle. This was clearly working out exactly as he'd wanted, and that meant something terrible was in store for her as well. So far the computer had been focusing on her own friends, but the Diarena knew that her turn must be coming.
Even watching the computer destroy these other humans was unexpectedly painful. The Diarena didn't particularly like Claire, even though she'd allowed her to work on her ship, but she'd lived on the edge of Faal's knife long enough to have some pity for those who found themselves unexpectedly on the point.
Claire, who had stumbled down the stairs open-mouthed and wide-eyed with horror – what small eyes the humans had! – was now being shuffled off to the side and secured between several guards. Her eyes flickered between the Rik and the computer's box. The Diarena wondered briefly if the girl really had been the cause of Faal's injury, as she'd heard.
Faal told her once that he had nothing but respect for the unbreakable, but he could never be sure that something deserved his respect without testing it. Very few things remained unbroken in his hands.
The Diarena could see that at least two of these humans were on the point of shattering and Faal was never happier than when breaking things. He'd clearly already broken the computer and was now ready to shatter more lives.
And that brought her back to her own danger. She had to decide what to do, because doing nothing right now might be the worst mistake of her life. She could wait for Faal's vile computer to get around to revealing her secrets, or she could somehow pre-empt it and make her own disturbance.
Faal was definitely employing new tactics, and her method of staying alive the last eleven years might be her undoing if she didn't adapt.
The guards had the first two Rik at the ladders. The male Rik looked back at the human girl and his face twitched, as if he was trying to smile but not able to do it.
The Diarena's stomach muscles were uncomfortably clenched and she had difficulty taking a deep breath. She knew what she had to do to save herself, but she was afraid. She could wait until this unpleasantness was over, or she could do it now.
The computer spoke again, and its voice was like a jolt of ice water down her spine.
"Oh, the Pontifex may be interested to know that one of those Rik was responsible for turning the human trial. Shara betrayed her species and revealed several key pieces of their plot. Of course, Faal knows that already. He is very good at keeping secrets. For instance, it was he who hired the Rik to sabotage the Spo space station. Would anyone like another war with the Spo–"
"Apparently you're rather good at keeping secrets as well," Sam said, somewhat harshly. "Akemi, examine your memory. Something has clearly been done. Perhaps –"
"The Pontifex has made his decision," Faal said. "You disrespect him with your continued argument."
Sam looked at Faal intently. "What is your stake in this? I understand why you want to punish Claire, and I get why you might have messed with Akemi – but why do you care about the Rik at all? Why the space station, if that is true? Why is this your passion?"
Faal laughed at Sam, an almost maniacal look in his usually rigid face. "Don't you realize you caused this much more than I? The Rik lost the trial. If you had left well-enough alone, they would be irrelevant by now. I tried to tell you at your trial, but you were too full of your own self-righteous compassion to hear me. And now look what you've done." He gestured at the gallows, the row of guillotines, and the gibbeted bodies. "If you'd let them lose the trial, I would have done nothing – the Merith would have been safe. But you had to give them a second chance. That's why they're here."
"But they're not trying to take over another species now," Sam said, speaking loudly so others could hear. "Why can't you just wait? In another few generations they'll have their own culture, and the "Rik" will effectively be gone."
"That is the problem with you humans, you optimistically leave problems for future generations. I will not do that. I am already part of the generation that was left with the problem. And I will solve it."
"By killing anyone remotely connected to the Rik?"
Faal's gaze grew distant. "I tell you the truth, if my own father stood before me accused of a Rik connection, I would kill him with my own hands." He focused on Sam again. "So don't think to move me by pity. Pity is the worst kind of cruelty."
The Diarena took another painful deep breath and opened her mouth to speak. It was now or possibly never. She wanted to put her hand on the Pontifex - to touch him in some way while she told him the truth - as if that would convince him more fully of her identity than their years of marriage had.
She resisted however, because she knew he would see it as neediness, and that would lend the wrong color to her words. In fact, the Diarena meditated briefly, if she was going to do this, she should do it right. She hadn't been married to the Pontifex for eleven years for nothing. She knew exactly how to tell him this.
He might still have her executed, but he would not hate her.
"Could Sam be right?" the Diarena said. "Isn't it possible that the Rik could become their own people? That those who're already humans," she gestured to Sage and Shara slowly climbing the ladders, "That they might assimilate harmlessly into a society and disappear?"
The Pontifex frowned, looking at her in a perplexed way. "I thought the extermination of the Rik was one of the few things you agreed with. You know Faal has done more study on the Rik phenomenon than I have, and he considers them even more of a threat than the Spo. We've talked about this. He even has that theory on how they tried to infiltrate the Merith in past generations. "
"Faal is obsessed with that idea," the Diarena said bitterly.
The Pontifex raised his hands. "I know you both loathe each other, but this is not the time to go into it."
"But you do not know why we loathe each other." The Diarena took a deep breath, her shoulder feathers twitching in fear. "Faal's detestable theory is true."
The Pontifex was silent. He was no doubt trying to figure out her angle in suddenly agreeing with her long time enemy.
"He knows it is true, because it happened in his family. His grandfather was a Rik who took on Merith form." She paused. "You look skeptical, but you can see how it could be so. When his grandparents were young the Merith were in uproar. It was two years before you became the Pontifex and began your Years of Unity, and the Rik thought there was an opportunity. His family, though not high, was wealthy and influential. I suppose the Rik thought it a safe place to start."
The Pontifex put his hand on her arm. "This is ridiculous, my dear. I know he has antagonized you, but this tale is pure foolishness. If the Rik were going to try for Merith, they would have infiltrated the high families, the ones who might have gotten a Rik in my place."
"Like my family?" The Diarena took another deep breath. "My family, the Skrenni, was at the pinnacle of the aristocracy at that time. That's why you invited me to the last Unity celebration. The reason I know all of this – is because it happened in my family as well."
The Pontifex froze. "What are you saying?"
The Diarena strove to remain outwardly calm. "It was my grandmother. If you consider, you will realize how this fits with what you know of both of us. He has held this knowledge of tainted blood over my head, and I him. His vendetta against the Rik is almost entirely personal."
The Pontifex grasped the edge of his rocky throne and his talons scraped the sides. "I do not believe you."
"You do, or you would not be so angry." She hurried on before he could answer. "And I do not tell you to weaken your position, or even to denigrate Faal, but to prove how weak the Rik truly are. Do you know any woman more Meritha than I? Or any Merith more fierce and cunning than Faal? We are Merith of Meritha, both of us. The Rik are nothing. A drop in an ocean that does not retain its shape." Her throat felt more open now that the worst was over. "Faal would no doubt have me die as well during the course of his eradication. He started with his father and grandfather, when he discovered the story. He won't rest until every drop of Rik is gone."
She rose to her feet in agitation and would have explained one thing more, but the Pontifex slashed his hand at her. "Be still." He rose from his throne and paced the length of the platform.
One of the guards held up his fist for the executioners to wait until the Pontifex was seated again. The two Rik were on their respective gallows platforms, the chains looped around their throats.
That had not gone as badly as it might... but the Diarena was not sure what the Pontifex was thinking now. Did he suspect her of insinuating herself into his life to get to this position? Surely not. He knew better than anyone that he'd chosen her on his own.
Her limbs were shaking, and she sat down heavily.
Faal spoke in a controlled tone that sent vibrations through both her stomachs.
"You should not have done that," he said.
***
Sage watched the Pontifex stand angrily and stride away from his chair. He also saw the raised fist that meant he and Shara had a few more moments to live.
Sage looked at Claire, and found that he had enough of... whatever it was Juliet had, empathy or compassion... to wish that Claire was not here to see him die. With his new clarity of thought, he knew that he had treated Claire badly. He'd been genuinely fond of her, but he'd still manipulated and used her. He hadn't recognized it, because he was too selfish to realize that he could be fond of someone and still mistreat them.
He'd known how vulnerable Claire was when he met her, and he'd taken advantage of that to gain her affection.
Curse Juliet and her damned guilt, Sage thought savagely. It ruined everything. He had half a mind to go ahead and jump off this blasted platform just to get it over with. Just to finish this intolerable pain. But – and Sage hated himself even more at the realization – he didn't have the courage to do it.
Sage kept watching Claire, who seemed riveted by the argument going on below, but he couldn't hear what was being said. Her eyes did finally flicker to him and over to Shara, and he glanced at Shara as well, wondering how she was handling the wait. The guard next to her was watching the altercation down below, and Shara had worked one hand under the chain around her neck. With one smooth movement, she slipped it over her head and off.