"Do we know anything from the design of their sky ship?" Besta asked as they stood in the empty apartment.

"Nothing," Enesh replied. "Only the smallest of pieces were left. But I think we can infer some things from their behavior. The way they sat on their beds. Their chairs would be very different from ours. They sit backwards. They lean back onto a wall when one is there." He pulled out a pad of paper and drew a simple design. It had three-dimensions. A square made the base of it, with a leg coming down from each corner, and a flat rectangle reached up one side. "Maybe something like this."

Besta looked it over. "How odd! But then, I have seen the female lean back on a wall."

"They looked at our toilets rather askance, too." Enesh flipped the page. "Maybe they use something more like the chair but with a hole and basin for the plumbing." He drew the same square but added a circle to the middle of it. There were no legs this time, but a box to hold the basin. The flat rectangle became thicker to hold the water supply.

Besta shook his head. "It might be difficult to get custom plumbing to work. They have worked out how to use ours, right?"

Enesh crossed out the second drawing. "True. They also manage with our flat beds. So a bed won't be a problem. Clothing might be. We haven't given them much to wear. They still have their uniforms, though."

"Perhaps our team can get them back." Besta said, nudging him lightly. "That might win us some favor."

Enesh sighed at the nudge. "You can speak the language. Why don't you go instead?"

Besta turned to give him his full attention. "You know the facility. I don't. Enesh, you'll be with Special Forces. They'll bring you and the male back."

Enesh looked away. "I never want to go back. Not for anything. And this won't be as easy as the President thinks. It's Kennisitai! It's their most important secret laboratory since the aliens were found. There's a garrison there!"

"Their best soldiers will be at war, or at the border," Besta argued. "Lesser Raptors and old men will be posted to guard internal installations. They've always done it that way."

Enesh didn't feel any better. He was finally free here in Buftanis. He was happy here. Zheiren was full of threats and bad memories. He never wanted to see it again.

Besta put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it now. It could be months from now. Let's just imagine some more furniture. They'll need a place to eat. A table at the right height for your chairs, perhaps."

Malcolm wondered if they were testing the limits of his sanity. He was tired but every time he began to nod off, SOS would blare again. It practically rang in his skull. It was maddening. And for the first time in months, he was truly, utterly alone. He had to power down the console altogether to cut Hoshi out. One of them could get some sleep that way. He couldn't shut his own ears off that way though.

He hated to think how alone Hoshi must feel. She'd be worried. He didn't want to bombard her with this, so he left her out. He couldn't tell her why without subjecting her to this basic form of torture. Sleep deprivation was nothing new or novel.

The heat lamps had been on when he cut the power. They were on again. So the blaring SOS was going on for two days at this point. Would they continue to three? Would they risk four or five? People had been known to go mad from lack of sleep. Was he more valuable to them sane or insane? Insane, he might talk more in his native true language. But would he say anything that made any sense?

A few hours later, the heat lamps shut off. A few more after that and the SOS fell silent. Malcolm's head still throbbed with it, but he felt so relieved he didn't mind. He collapsed over on the bed exhausted. He was so tired that he left the console dark and went to sleep.

Dr. Bishtae managed to keep his tone rather diplomatic, Baezhu thought. "He'll certainly be off-balance when we wake him up. But what do you plan to ask him that will be of any value?"

Major Zhenah also managed to keep an even tone. "It can explain the words. It can use hand signs or drawings, but it must explain them. Which is its home planet? Which is his ship? What do the others mean?"

Baezhu kept his mouth shut, especially when Major Zhenah was around. It wasn't a Lesser's place to interfere. Still, he thought Zhenah had a point. One Samwize wouldn't appreciate.

"Well, I don't see the scientific point of the method." Burha always was more hot-headed than Bishtae. But then he was used to arguing with Raptors in front of the Council. Kennisitai was far less formal by comparison.

"You can find out if it can breathe under water," Zhenah replied.

Baezhu knew that was ridiculous. It was just an excuse.

"We already know from his biology that he does not," Burha shot back.

"Why?" Zhenah asked. "Because it has no gills? Neither do many amphibians. Neither do mammals that live in the oceans. Maybe it can hold its breath for three hours like the katura."

Bishtae held up a hand to dissuade Burha. "He doesn't have the lung capacity or a mechanism to completely block his airway. Stop bothering with pretense, Major. We're all intelligent enough to know what's going on." He put a hand on Baezhu's shoulder to indicate his inclusion. Baezhu appreciated that.

Zhenah stood up straighter and looked Bishtae right in the eye for a long moment. "Then let's get started."

Malcolm opened his eyes just in time to see three out-stretched fingers reaching for him. There were more hands than that one and they grabbed him hard. He was still too tired to think. Had they fed him yesterday? Were they going to cut him open again? Three orcs held him to the bed.

Malcolm didn't move. But the one at his arm did, and Malcolm was able to see something they must have brought into the room while he slept. It was at least as long as he was and about a meter deep. There was water on the floor beside it.

He started to shake, and the hands gripped him harder. His chest pounded until he felt his ribs would break. They started to lift him from the bed.

He kicked as hard as he could, and the sudden movement shook one of the bullies off of him. He managed to get an arm free and pounded the nearest orc in the gut. He lost his grip, but the other regained his on Malcolm's leg. They were pulling him off the bed.

Malcolm tried to hold on to something but the bed was soldered to the wall. There was nothing to grip. The near one grabbed his arm again, and Malcolm did the one thing he could and bit the orc's finger until he tasted blood. The orc screamed and let go.

But then the T-Rex spoke. He pushed the orc out of the way and grabbed Malcolm by the throat. His long fingers wrapped all the way around and squeezed. Malcolm clawed at the hand that choked him but it just squeezed harder. The T-Rex leaned in to his face and growled. Malcolm felt light-headed. He couldn't get any air. He felt blood trickle down his neck.

T-Rex used his other arm to take hold of Malcolm's leg. Then he heaved Malcolm toward the tank.

Air rushed back into Malcolm's lungs just as he slammed sideways into the hard metal of the tank. He tried to get up, to run, to fight, to get anywhere else, but his bare feet slipped in the water on the floor. T-Rex came at him again. He lifted Malcolm up and dropped him into the tank.

"Tis ank kor!"

Malcolm reached for the sides. "Hoshi!" he screamed. Bubbles escaped his mouth so he must have said it out loud. But they didn't hear it as his face was still under the ice-cold water. The three orcs were back. They pushed him down. The water squeezed him, looking for a way in. Hoshi! He kept his mouth clamped shut.

Nothing. The console! It was dark. His reeling mind tried to visualize it, to turn it back on, but the pain in his chest was too distracting. The air wanted out. The water wanted in. The orcs faces turned fuzzy, became the faces of the boys long ago.

He turned and thrashed, trying to throw off the bullies that were holding him down. They laughed at him. "Where are your gills, Fishboy?"

He managed to grip one side of the tank, but something sharp slashed across his fingers and filled them with pain. There was red in the water. From his neck. From his fingers. The blood was slick and he lost his hold. He was pushed to the bottom. He could feel the floor on his back.

The air filled his head, pushing for a way out. His jaws hurt as he strained to keep them closed tight. Not this way, he pleaded to anyone who could hear his thoughts. He tried one more time to see the console. He needed Hoshi to know. He could just make out the power switch. It lit up but it grew dark. His limbs spasmed but he had lost the strength to fight. To hold the air in. Malcolm Reed drowned for the second time in his life.

Hoshi dreamed she was in a pool. At the bottom of the pool. She gasped for air and woke up. It was still night. Pipa was asleep beside her and the room was quiet. She remembered the pool from her dream. She could breathe now.

Malcolm! It was him! She closed her eyes and tried to hear him, or see through him, or hear through him. Malcolm? Are you alright?

She waited for a response, any response. Just like all the other times she'd tried since the night the SOS started. No, it was different now. She'd felt him. She was sure of it.

Malcolm!

"Up," was all Zhenah said.

Baezhu had to try hard to hide his horror and anger. Samwize had fought like that before for the semen collection. He'd kicked him hard enough and sudden enough to cause him to release his leg. But Baezhu could tell that this time, it was out of sheer terror.

He helped the doctors to lift Samwyze's limp body from the water. Almost instantly he grew rigid and gasped for air. Life flooded back into him as he coughed up the water and took in the air.

"Down again," the major ordered.

Baezhu hated that the doctors had to obey the Raptor's orders. They pushed Samwize down again. He didn't fight as long this time. He thrashed and pawed at them, but he didn't have the strength to loosen their grip. Finally, his body went slack, and Baezhu waited for the order to pull him up. Air bubbles rose from Samwyze's nose and mouth as his eyes rolled back into his head.

Burha spoke up. "He can't say anything if he's dead, Zhenah! He doesn't breathe underwater!"

Zhenah just stared at him for another few seconds. Then he nodded.

This time, Samwize did not become rigid or gasp for air. He remained limp, unconscious. Dr. Burha and Dr. Bishtae pulled him all the way out of the tank and laid him flat on his back. Bishtae began compressions on Samwize's chest. Baezhu counted the seconds, hoping with each one that Samwize would revive. Fifteen seconds in, he did. He half-coughed and half-vomited the water as Burha turned him on his side. He kept coughing for another dozen seconds or so.

"Dr. Kenu," Zhenah called.

Kenu stood still at the door, his beak open as he watched. When Zhenah said his name, he started, then brought out the cards again. He put them on the floor in front of Samwize, making sure they were clear of the water.

But Samwize surprised them all. He suddenly got up to his hands and knees and threw himself under the bed. He withdrew into the corner farthest from them all and tucked himself into a ball, with his arms wrapped around his knees. He put his head down and shivered.

"I think you went too far, Major," Bishtae stated, as he stood up. "He's not off-balance. He's thoroughly traumatized. He may never talk again."

Hoshi heard those words and hoped that orc, Saruman, could persuade Uglúk—her new codename for the one they called Zhenah—to leave Malcolm alone. They'd used his deepest fear against him.

Malcolm? she tried again, gently. He hadn't answered her yet. It had been several minutes before anything came to her since the dream, and it had taken a few more to piece it together.

The water in the dream. Being at the bottom of the pool. The silence as he had lost consciousness, then the coughing and wheezing when he got it back. He must have opened Audio II for her to hear what he heard but he may have left Audio I off or he just wasn't able to think.

Kennoo wasn't ready to give up, it seemed. "Sharu," he said. She heard a thump and realized he'd thumped his own chest.

Then all the hair on Hoshi's arms and legs stood on end as she heard Malcolm whimper. She felt his fear. He was terrified.

"He isn't looking, Kenu," one of the orcs said. "He needs time to calm down."

Hoshi heard a growl. Then a voice of authority. "Everyone out!"

The growl grew louder. Then, "You Raptors don't lead the Council yet, Zhenah. Some animals die from stress, you know. Maybe he can. Let him calm down and maybe then you can get something out of him."

Another growl, then, "Leave the tank." She heard footsteps and then the closing of the door. They were alone.

Malcolm, she tried again. They've gone. It's alright now. Talk to me.

The only sound was his ragged breath.

She wished that—No, she'd tell him, not just wish it. I wish I could be there for you, to hold you until you were stronger, to wipe the water from your face. To tell you face to face that I love you.

"Hoshi," he sobbed. It was so faint she almost missed it. She was just so glad he'd responded.

She asked no more of him. Why don't I tell you a story? she said, as she turned back over. She told him about her grandmother's garden again and about her graduation and why she'd chosen Starfleet.

Somewhere in there, the line was broken and she hoped it meant he was sleeping.

Baezhu was still troubled by what he'd seen the day before. When he'd left, Samwize was still under the bed. He'd fallen asleep tucked into as tight a ball as he could manage under there. "It was as bad as the semen collection," he told Kahrae. "Maybe worse. He was in complete panic, absolute flight-or-fight. It didn't make him talk. It made him close up completely."

Kahrae sat down his food and sighed. "I'm starting to worry about you."

That got Baezhu's attention. "Me?"

"You're too close to him," Kahrae explained. "This close to Turn, you should know things won't get easier for him. The Raptors are taking control at a time when our testosterone is soaring. Yours should be, too, by the way."

Baezhu growled lightly. "It's biology, so, of course, mine is. But we don't have to be ruled by our hormones."

Kahrae laughed. "Actually, we do. We only get this for a few days every three years. Those hormones are trying to ensure the survival of our species!"

It was ironic that Kahrae was giving him a mini-lecture in biology, for a change. "Two weeks," he managed, and he knew it was lame. "We get a whole two weeks."

"Good! You could use the time off!" He picked up his food again. "Look, all he has to do is survive until Turn begins in less than a week. Then he gets two weeks off, too. Most of the Major's testosterone will have spent itself, and, in all likelihood, the remainder will be redirected toward Shirkatisa." He said the last part in an even quieter voice than their usual whisper when speaking about Samwize.

"Obek?" Baezhu asked his friend.

Kahrae slid the newspaper over to him. "That and the anti-Shirkatisan propaganda. Things are heating up."

The new president was on the TV. With Turn coming, the protests in Shirkatisa were building. More and more people filled the streets. Their images were all over the news. President Gudai was just finishing his speech in response to the rumors that Zheiren would put down the protests forcefully. "We will defend our economic interests in Shirkatisa. And we will support the Shirkatisan desire for freedom."

"Of course, Zheiren will put it down," Enesh said, standing up and walking away. "With Ussa in charge of the Council and Turn turning them all into hot-heads."

"Gudai is counting on it," Besta replied. "It will keep them from noticing our little raid."

Enesh shook his head. "But that's not what he said. He said we'd defend our interests and support their desire for freedom. I'm not enthusiastic about going on the raid but I'm less enthusiastic about open war with Zheiren."

Besta picked up his things to leave. "Let's just hope it was the hormones talking. Either way, worrying about it will do no good. Let's not let the threat of war dampen our enthusiasm for the coming Turn."

Enesh laughed. "Nothing could. It's only once every three years. Two weeks of debauchery and procreation. What's war compared to that?"

Samwize had not come out from under the bed. Zhenah had found his weakness the day before. That was certain. But was it personal or a characterization of his species? If they still had the female, they could have found out. Baezhu didn't really care anymore. He hated seeing Samwize reduced to the level of a cornered animal.

And today wasn't going to be any better.

"He's been toying with us," Kenu said.

"We are scientists, Kenu," Dr. Bishtae attempted to reason with him. "What happened yesterday wasn't science. It was cruelty and deliberate cruelty is something Raptors practice. Not us."

Kenu couldn't turn around to face him. He kept staring at the monitor. "Well, the Raptors are in charge now. Besides, I want answers, too. Straight answers, not twelve different languages. He's been deliberately withholding information from us since he came."

"He crashed here," Burha reminded him. "He didn't come here by choice. And he's only acting in his own self-interest, which proves his sentience all the more. Torture does not become a Winged!"

Kenu rubbed his eyes and kept his voice low. "It's not torture. It's just more aggressive science."

"That is torture, when applied to a sentient being, Kenu." Bishtae changed tactics. "What he has been doing, withholding, has not been a personal attack against you. But you seem to be taking this all very personally."

"Someone could still be coming for him!" Kenu stood up to face them. "They sent a signal in the desert. The one we blasted in his ears. What does it mean? How long does it take one of their ships to come from his planet? Wait! We don't know because he hasn't told us where his planet is or how fast their ships go. We don't even know the name of his planet. Or his ship. We don't even know what frequency they used to broadcast or how long that signal would take before reaching their planet. We need to know these things."

"And we need to know their weaknesses so we can fight them if they do come." Major Zhenah surprised them all again by showing up in the doorway. "Which bone then, do you feel is the strongest?"

"The one in the thigh," Bishtae answered. "And breaking it will give you no tactical advantage."

"No?" Zhenah took another step into the room. "Can we assume his ribcage or his skull is not as strong?"

Bishtae took a deep breath. "Yes."

Baezhu did not like where this was going. He really didn't like Major Zhenah at all.

"Then the force required to break the thigh bone will be more than enough to break through his ribcage or crack his skull. Tactical advantage. Very useful information. And maybe, he can be coerced to share information along the way." Baezhu really hated that he had to participate. He wanted Samwize to trust him. How could he after what happened yesterday and what was going to happen today?

"Let's take a walk," Besta suggested. He'd shown up at Enesh's door a few hours into the night. He was dressed and carrying a clipboard and a pen. "Put some clothes on. Turn begins in just over four days. Let's go have a preview of our prospects."

That came as a shock to Enesh who was not fully awake. "We can do that?"

"Yes, and if they're not already reserved by someone else, we can reserve them with their guards." They stepped down into one of the tunnels that led to the barracks. "There's no point looking at the infertile ones. They'd be dangerous to try and mate with. They tend to take such attempts as an attack. The others, though, are getting as anxious as we are."

Five days. When Enesh was younger, he'd wondered why they had to wait to do this on the day Turn started. But since he'd studied biology, he'd learned that the females ovulated only once every three years and the males' testosterone increased in response. The hormones in both genders peaked at the start of Turn, and the female would not be ready to produce an egg until that peak. So even so close—just five days—they still had to wait. But this wasn't his first Turn. He knew the waiting would be worth it. His hormone levels were still rising. When the time came, he'd barely be able to concentrate.

The thing that made all the logistics of Turn work was that while the Raptors' and Wingeds' hormones were on the same schedule, the Monitors' were not. So they organized everything for the Raptors and Wingeds and the Wingeds organized it all for them two weeks later. The Monitors in Zheiren even took over the government during Turn. Enesh wasn't sure what they did in Buftanis, though they did comprise a majority of the civil servants.

They reached the Winged barracks that held the females who were not given birth control medications. A young man there greeted them. "Good evening, gentleman. Come to temp the ladies?"

"Won't they be tempting us?" Besta asked in reply. Both men laughed. The females, Enesh could see, were, in fact, gyrating in hormonal overload.

"This guy's new, right?" the guard asked, pointing to Enesh.

Enesh bobbed his head. "I understand you do things a bit differently than in Zheiren."

"As I understand it, though I've never been there," the guard replied. "Mark down your top six, and I'll save them for you if you want six of these. Because we can't have you making six viable eggs, anyone under your top two will be given a drug after to negate a pregnancy. We don't have male children here, so any male offspring will be fostered offsite and eventually adopted."

Enesh had not realized the latter point but it was true. There was no male family. Still, he'd left two sons in Zheiren when he committed treason and had hardly given them a second thought. He wasn't a very good father, it seemed. But he was a good biologist. Someone else could raise his children. Or maybe he'd have all females. "I'm fine with that," he said. He turned again to look at the writhing females.

Baezhu felt sick to his stomach. Samwize had still been so scared that he and Hinath had had to drag him out from under the bed. He'd fought them nearly as much as when Zhenah had them put him under the water. The doctors had had to help to get him on the bed and to strap him down so he couldn't move.

More than at any other time, Samwize looked like an animal, a caged or cornered one, injured and wild, but helpless against his captors. Baezhu hated being part of reducing him to that. He wanted to shout that they should stop, that this was wrong. He wanted to stop Zhenah—or kill Zhenah. He was surprised by the intensity of that feeling. He'd never felt so aggressive.

But he was still in control of himself. Zhenah had the same hormones and more weapons: great claws and a mouth full of sharp teeth. There was a reason Raptors were the military. Zhenah could kill him faster than he could draw blood. And even if he didn't, to attack Zhenah, or even to speak out of turn, would be treason. And in that, he'd have no friends. He'd die having accomplished nothing.

So he stood by, with Dr. Bishtae, ready to render aid as soon as the bone broke.

There were force meters both on the top of the thigh and also below it. Zhenah began with his bare fist. He grunted with the effort as he flung his fist onto the top sensor. Samwize stiffened. It was painful, but there was no break. Some of Samwize's stubbornness was back. He glared at Zhenah. Baezhu was glad to see that, but he also knew this wasn't about to end. Hinath dutifully recorded the force measured on both meters.

Kenu approached the bed. He had a picture. Baezhu recognized it as a patch from the aliens' clothing. He pointed to the picture and said, "Aldastsufra?"

Samwize didn't answer. Kenu probably blocked his view of Zhenah who now had a wooden truncheon. Zhenah brought it down with one hand. Samwize cried out, but there were no words in it.

Hinath took the readings and Kenu asked again. "Aldastsufra?"

This time, Zhenah used two hands and Samwize screamed when the truncheon hit. "Aldastsufra," he gasped.

Kenu threw that picture down. Hinath took the readings. Zhenah had a gun. An assault rifle. Baezhu recognized it as the kind that Kahrae carried on duty.

Kenu held another picture. The other patch. This one had a planet on it. "Frdoskgamwyd?"

Malcolm didn't want to answer. He didn't want to be there. He wanted to crawl into some hole and never come out again. He'd been lost in the terror of the drowning, the flashbacks from when he was twelve, only the bullies were dinosaurs and he was never saved. He was still with them, and they weren't even trying to anesthetize him this time. This wasn't some experiment. Each blow came harder and one of them had a clipboard, so they were making a show of it. But this was torture and Malcolm's frenzied mind couldn't find a way out.

They'd made up these words, though, so he didn't hesitate much. "Aosdeh," he corrected, hoping the next, harder blow wouldn't come.

But it did, and the pain of it overwhelmed him completely. He felt the pressure and the crack as his thigh sent waves of excruciating fire radiating up his thigh and down to his feet. He screamed and struggled against the restraints.

The orc was saying something else, but Malcolm couldn't hear him. He could barely see through the pain. The T-Rex waved the other orcs back. Considering he was holding a gun, they stayed back. He let go with one hand and gripped Malcolm's thigh with his long, clawed fingers.

Another scream ripped itself from Malcolm's throat and his body spasmed with the pain. It took his breath away, and he couldn't find a moment's relief to get it back. The T-Rex spoke in a growl. Malcolm almost wanted to understand. Maybe then he could answer and the pain would stop. But he didn't understand.

Frodo! he screamed in his mind. He hoped he wasn't screaming it out loud but he just couldn't tell.

Hoshi woke with a start. Something seemed so wrong that she was fully awake in an instant. Sam?

He didn't answer her directly, but instantly she saw a vision in her mind. A Winged stood near with cards in his hands. The linguist. But there was also the T-Rex, Zhenah. He had a grip on Malcolm's thigh. "Answer the question!" he growled.

Hoshi's eyes began to tear up. So they were torturing him after all. Your leg?

"Broke," was all he could manage. She could work out the rest. Zhenah held him at the fracture.

Talk. It doesn't matter what they asked. They won't understand anyway. Repeat after me. Anglo-Saxon was a precursor to the British English Malcolm Reed spoke naturally. He could repeat it and it might seem similar to those words they'd invented.

The Ring of Sauron had to be destroyed. The nine walkers were named and their journey laid out. Across the Misty Mountains, through Lothlorian, down the Anduin, through Emyn Muil, through the Dead Marshes and the Morgul Vale into Mordor itself. She told of the wargs they had to fight off, the bird spies of Saruman, the failure at Caradhras. The choice of Moria.

She ignored the questions and patiently laid out the phrases. She cut the video because she couldn't bear to watch. It was hard enough hearing his screams.

He was talking. They'd accomplished that. Without drugs, but not without the cruelty Dr. Bishtae told him scientists don't resort to.

Kenu was mumbling to himself. "It might be the same. A handful of words can't tell us enough of the grammar."

It was pointless and Baezhu was sickened and horrified.

Zhenah didn't let go. He kept asking the same question. How far is Aosdeh? Samwize kept gasping words or phrases or sentences. And the major encouraged him by twisting his hands on the broken leg, or hitting him with the truncheon on other parts of his body.

"You got what you wanted!" Bishtae shouted. "It broke. Let him be. We need to treat him."

"Stay out of this!" Zhenah warned. He punctuated his command with a blow to Samwize's chest. There was another crack followed by a raspy scream.

"Major!" Burha tried. "He didn't even understand the question but he's talking. He's trying to give you what you want to hear. That's the only thing torture ever gets you!"

"I don't want what I want to hear!" Zhenah screamed. He was wild with fury. Baezhu could feel it, too, only his fury was aimed at the Raptor. He still had enough sense though, to not challenge him. Zhenah was a Greater Raptor and he was a Lesser Winged. He didn't have a chance. The doctors were the same size, at least, but Zhenah was not intimidated. "I want the truth!"

But the blow that struck with that pronouncement stopped the screaming, and the babbling altogether. Samwize coughed up blood and his eyes rolled back into his head. It shocked Zhenah enough that he dropped the truncheon and backed away.

Bishtae and Burha rushed forward. Baezhu went with them, ready to do whatever they needed. Samwize gasped for air. Bishtae ripped the cotton shift Samwize wore to expose his chest. It was discolored already and there was a concave indentation near the clavicle on the left side.

"Hinath!" Burha called. "Gurney!" Hinath left to obey.

"Release him," Bishtae ordered. Baezhu hurried to undo the restraints. He hated that Bishtae had let this happen but trusted that doctor especially to save Samwize's life.

The orcs had asserted themselves. Hoshi took a deep breath as her connection with Malcolm failed. It had lasted for a little while after that final blow. She'd turned the video back on to see Saruman and Sméagol rushing over.

She brushed the tears from her eyes and vowed to herself to wait a week. If they held to pattern, he'd be unconscious for a week following surgery—and she had no doubt he needed surgery. She would wait that long, and if she didn't hear from him then, she'd know. She'd know that he was dead.