Hours went by, grating at Lily's weary mind. Myriad columns danced upon the screen in her display, fusing into the combat protocol matrices. She'd learned much more Pruessian code since working for Hir Zilejager. At this point, she probably knew more than Delia did.

She seethed at Hir Weingert and his erratic tyranny. The other Pruessians didn't behave like this. Murky yellow light spilled from his office door, creating a single patch of illumination against the wall of the shadowed corridor.

They had to wake at dawn for their classes and drills. Why was he taking so long to check on them? This wasn't fair, or warranted.

She stopped a moment, and removed her display, looking around at Daddy.

He was hard at work on the frame for the second prototype.

Since the drivers weren't present, she abandoned all care. She approached, and spoke directly. "You look exhausted. I can finish this on my own."

"No," he said. "I won't leave you alone with that brute."

She looked around, making sure they were still unsupervised. Then she reached for him, her heart pounding, and they met in a long-desired hug. It was a simple thing, once taken for granted. She buried her face into his strong shoulder, and sobbed.

He kissed her cheek. "It's okay. I'm here, Sunshine. I'll always be here for you."

A mechanical hum and clink announced the approaching drivers.

Lily rushed back to her seat, and donned her display device, acting as if everything was normal.

The robots beeped to each other in their private electronic language, and assumed their usual observant formation.

Tension hung in the air. There was still no sign of Hir Weingert. He was probably asleep in his office.

She sighed, and resumed her tedious job. Her anger kept her awake, over the next few hours.

Not long after midnight, she heard Daddy put his tools down. "I'm taking a short rest break," he said, glancing at the drivers. He sat on a chair in the corner, folded his arms, and closed his eyes.

Not long after, she used the lavatory, and washed her hands in the pitcher and basin near the door.

The station was silent. Her own breath seemed to echo through the vast, dark space. She glanced at Daddy.

He still dozed in the corner, chin slumped. The brim of his black civilian cap covered his face, his chest rising and falling with his snores.

She didn't want to disturb him. In another hour, the job would be finished. Then she would go to the office, and wake Hir Weingert herself. The man had to be sleeping in there. She couldn't think of any other reason for his inattention.

It was too quiet, and made her nervous. She hummed to herself, to ease her troubled mind. Returning to the robot, she picked up her display.

She heard the flap of a long coat, and the precise step of boot heels. Hir Weingert drifted out of a shadowy corner, and walked toward her. It was as if he just appeared.

Fear seized her, and she stumbled to say the words of the required greeting. She saluted, trying to at least appear enthusiastic.

"Be at ease," he said. "You've proven much today. I'd like to have a little chat, before I dismiss you and your father."

She nodded once, but kept her eyes down, and her temper in check. She had a bad habit of saying things in anger, and regretting them later.

"You're a smart girl," Hir Weingert said, moving closer. "I think you and I are much alike."

She curbed her sharp reply, and answered calmly. "I only strive to be as strong and wise as the great leader."

His grin was snide. "The proper answer for a proper Kaezer youth. I know all of the right things to say, too. Do you know how old I am, Korenzdit Fairpoole?"

"No, sir." She didn't care if he was ten, or a hundred. She wanted to get this over with, and go to bed.

"I turned seventeen this past winter," he said. "Like you, I've accomplished much in my field, far beyond my years."

He was a lot younger than she expected.

She was a little curious, though she despised him.

"When I was six, I spoke three languages fluently," he said. "By the time I was your age, I spoke thirty-seven. The great leader has keen interest in gifted minds like ours. I was taken from my family, and educated under a strict and accelerated program. Now, I'm assigned in this pathetic camp, so far from the homeland." He paused a moment, and cocked his head. "Have you ever heard of Myrktilhet? The Shadow?"

"No."

"Of course you haven't," he said. "But you've heard of a certain fist from the sky."

She took a step back. "I don't understand."

He grabbed her swiftly by the wrists, trapping her against the workbench with his body. It cut into her back. Sharp pain triggered a scream, but he pressed a hand over her mouth.

"I assumed it was just you and your father involved. But, tonight, I learned the truth. More are working with you. Hir Volbergh gave you something."

She struggled, but he was bigger and stronger.

"You and your father are ignorant, thinking you fooled my robots with your silly long sentences, and the secret messages you've been receiving. I'm an officer of Myrktilhet. We're always watching, and listening, in the shadows. If you were Pruessian, you'd know this."

His fingers tightened like talons against her face.

"Your friend, this Venyamin Schnegiryov, is finishing his parents' work. The overthrow of the Kaezer, and the dominance of the space colonies. And you're helping him. I want the envelope from Hir Volbergh. I'm going to release your arm, and you'll give it to me. Or, you'll face the consequences of your resistance."

Her defiance overcame all reason. She managed to wrestle one leg free, and stomped on his foot with all her might.

He grunted in pain, and rammed his weight against her in retaliation. "You lied to me. And as I'm the direct ears of the Kaezer, you've lied to him as well. I see that I'm forced to do this the hard way. You have much to learn, Korenzdit."

He flipped her around, so that her back was pinned against his chest, and rummaged through her pockets with one invasive hand.

"I have orders to expose any threat to the great leader. And I'm tired of your deceit and impudence."

He tore her collar, until it ripped along the shoulder seams. The fabric betrayed her, peeling away, leaving her bare to the waist.

He found the envelope in her inner pocket, and held it before her eyes with his free hand. "Here it is. The proof of your guilt."

She noticed the tiny fist and star symbol, drawn in one corner. Hir Volbergh must be one of Ben's operatives.

"I'm going to teach you something," Hir Weingert said. "For all the times you belittled me in front of Hir Zilejager, speaking over me as if you have some sort of importance, you'll learn your lesson."

He stripped her coveralls to her knees, then spoke to his drivers. "Subdue."

With a hard shove, he bent her across the workbench, and the robots plodded to the other side.

They clamped their vise effectors over her arms, and held her down, stretched out in the most shameful way.

Numbing fear surged through her, and she bucked against their grip.

Hir Weingert's hand slipped from her face briefly, as he fussed with the buttons and buckles of his clothing.

She found an inch of freedom, to shout as loud as she could. It was all she needed. "Daddy!"

There was a blur of movement, and she tried to look over her shoulder.

Hir Weingert gave a startled cry, which was followed by the crunch of bone against bone.

Daddy's voice was icily calm. "You picked the wrong father to cross. I'm going to kill you, little boy."

She heard another fleshy crack.

Hir Weingert yelled to the drivers.

The robots released her.

She stumbled after them, clutching the tattered coveralls to her chest.

A large, heavy socket wrench lay on the workbench. She took it with a trembling hand.

Hir Weingert was sprawled on his stomach, in a pool of blood.

Daddy sat astride him, smashing the young man's head against the floor.

She heard the drivers respond, saw their slots opening.

Tasers fired, latching onto Daddy.

Her scream joined his.

Daddy convulsed, then collapsed.

Hir Weingert tried to get up, pushing himself to his knees with shaky arms. Blood dripped with a thick patter from his face.

Fear and anger coursed through her. She swung the wrench at his head, but her terror added more force to the blow than she intended. The snap of his skull resonated through her fingers.

Secondary tasers struck her in the chest and back, and the crisp buzz of electricity scraped through her body. Every muscle tensed and burned.

A moment of darkness and silence followed.

It only lasted a short while. The pain returned quickly.

Steel pinched, as another restraint bit into her wrists. It was a sadly familiar sensation. The drivers emitted faint, pulsing beeps as they sent their alert signals.

Daddy moaned nearby.

The realization that he was alive focused her mind.

Her eyesight returned slowly. She was on the floor, leaning against the workbench.

Hir Weingert lay beside her, unmoving, in a smeared pool of blood. His black coat was fanned around him, like the bleak wings of a carrion bird in flight.

Blood glistened red along Daddy's fingers and arms. The taser barbs were still embedded, and one of them protruded from his right eye.

She cried, and reached for him, but was blocked by the drivers.

The sound of many footsteps echoed from the corridor. A patrol of seven troopers arrived, and surrounded them.

"Civilian and Korenzdit Fairpoole," one of them said. "You're under arrest."

They forced her to her feet.

She tried to walk, but she was too weak. Her knees buckled. She sank to the floor and wept.