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“Because the moment is premature. Because he knew that the petition would not carry, even with his vote,” said Behn-kihl-nahm. “The outcome was foreordained, long before you were called in.”

“How?”

“By the outcome of the vote on who would chair the meeting. When Fey’lya saw that Praget would not get to run the session, he knew that this was not the day.”

“Would it violate the secrecy of the proceedings to tell me who raised that issue?”

A hint of a smile tugged tellingly at the corner of Behn-kihl-nahm’s mouth. “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty.”

Leia’s answering smile was broad and affectionate. “Whoever it was, Bennie, please thank him for me.”

“I’m sure he would not think that necessary. I’m certain he would say he was acting for the good of the Republic.”

“Thank him anyway,” Leia said. “So what happens now?”

“You have a little time. But not so much as you would like, or probably as much as is required,” said the chairman. “When the air is saturated with fear, it needs only a seed around which it can begin to coalesce. The same is true of ambition. This is only the beginning of the challenges, Leia. And if nothing changes, the next time you may not survive.”

Viceroy Nil Spaar’s newly expanded breedery on the top level of the palace quarters now had sixteen alcoves. All but one of them contained a birth-cask, supple and fertile, or a maturing nesting, bulging and fecund.

The empty space had once been occupied by the mara-nas of Kei, who had been his first. Her birth-cask had brought forth two handsome nitakka and a strong marasi before succumbing to the gray death. He had left that alcove open to respect Kei’s place as darna of his family, and to give her some comfort against her envy of his younger mates.

By design and custom, the breedery was a quiet, private place. But Nil Spaar had chosen to have his visitor brought to him there.

“So you are Tal Fraan,” he said.

“Yes, darama,” the young proctor said, kneeling in submission.

“Rise,” Nil Spaar said. “I am told you are the architect of the rout of the vermin at Preza.”

“I am honored by the darama’s notice,” Tal Fraan said, his glance jumping past the viceroy to the alcoves beyond. “But the opportunity for success was created by the darama, with the aid of our shipbuilders, who have given us such splendid weapons.”

“Excessive modesty betrays calculation, and begs for excessive attention,” said Nil Spaar. “Remember that and be guided by it, if you hope to continue your speedy advance.”

“I wish only to serve the darama in reclaiming the All for the Pure—” Tal Fraan began.

Nil Spaar raised a warning finger. “You were not so eager to refuse credit when the primate of Glory advanced you to your new rank. Do you think that I surround myself with talentless flatterers? I have far more use for cleverness. You are clever, aren’t you, Proctor Tal Fraan?”

“I try not to allow opportunities to escape me, Viceroy.”

Showing an approving nod at being addressed directly, Nil Spaar turned and began to walk slowly along the line of alcoves. Both blood-scent and breeding-scent were bracingly strong in the air. “And how came you to the device which served so well against the vermin?”

“The directive sent by the vermin spoke of prisoners,” said Tal Fraan, following a step or two behind. “That gave me cause to believe that their actions could be steered by seizing that concern.”

“You risked much in surrendering the advantage over the blockade force in the hope of drawing out their reserves,” Nil Spaar said, stopping and running his fingers lightly over the surface of a nesting that was nearly at term. “This device, this matter of regard for the fate of prisoners—it would not have stopped Yevetha. If it had failed, your entire force could have been lost.”

“The vermin are not strong about death,” Tal Fraan said. “I knew it would not fail.”

“Ah! Then you feel you have pierced their habits so well that you would commit ten thousand lives to the proof?”

“The primate committed them, Viceroy.”

“An incautious answer, Tal