THE TWELVE -- Chapter 7 - Reunion

On the second night of their capture, Jade approached his supervisor nervously.  He wanted badly to see his comrades, but he feared the possible consequences of asking, should his request be denied.

“Sir?” he began.

“Yes?” Rodre replied.

Jade swallowed.  “Sir, I’ve finished my work for today, and . . .” he paused.

“You may go, if you like.”

“Thank you sir, I would, but . . . but I’d like to go and see my friends tonight if I may,” he finished in a rush.

“You may.”

Jade was stunned.  Rodre had said it as if the answer were obvious.

“Can you please tell me where I can find them?” asked Jade eagerly.

“I could easily look up where they work,” came Rodre’s reply, “but they probably won’t be there now.  I’m sure that they’ll have all finished their work for the day as well.  I would suggest that you try the main eating room on the second level of the Detu section.  That’s where they’ll probably be if they want to see each other.”

“Thank you sir!”  Jade was off almost before he had finished speaking.

The main eating room on the second level of the Detu section: that should not be hard to find.  Jade was in the Wru section which was not far from the Detu section.

Rushing round a bend where the Wru section met the Neua section, Jade almost ran into a young man coming out of the latter area.

“Jade!” the young man exclaimed.

“Jaeger!” Jade grabbed his friend in a tight embrace.  “Oh, it’s so good to see you!”

Jaeger returned the salute then stepped back to look at him.  “Well, you look in good health.  How are you?”

“Wonderful, now that I’ve found you,” Jade replied.  “Oh, I’ve been miserable without you or any of the others.  I only just barely got up the courage to ask permission to come and see you all this afternoon.  Are you heading to the main eating room?”

“Yes,” said Jaeger.  “I went last night as well, and Detrin and Eriane did too.  They’re both stationed in the Gora section.  Wysire came in last night too, though he arrived nearly an hour after the rest of us.  We’re hoping that the others will find their way there eventually.”

They walked as they talked and soon came to a huge room filled with tables of all shapes and sizes.  Jaeger led Jade over to a table large enough to seat ten.  There were already four people sitting there.

“Jade!” Wysire exclaimed.  “Wonderful!  Now there are seven of us.  Sandy and Cycil found their way here tonight too.”

“You’re here early tonight, Wysire,” said Jaeger as they sat down.  “You arrived an hour after me last night.”

“I finished early today,” Wysire replied.  “My section is rather far from here,” he explained to Jade.  “I’m in the Shavu section.”

“At least we’re together,” said Sandy, indicating Cycil and himself.  “Cycil and I work together most of the day.”

“Well, we’re quite a group now, aren’t we?”  They all looked up to see Eriane.  “Jade, Sandy, Cycil, it’s wonderful to see you all here and in good health.  Now we only have to wait for Leil and Djaisiuk to come.”

That cast a slight shadow over the group.  The obvious absence of Creole, Christopher, and Faquire recalled to mind that not all of the group might be well.  The gloom did not last long however, and the dinner was eaten with relish, each of the boys enjoying the company of the others.

After they had all finished, Jaeger pulled out a fairly small, very worn book.

“I thought to bring this tonight,” he said.  “I thought that it would be nice to start having devotions together in the evening.”

“They’ve let you keep your Bible?!” exclaimed Wysire.  “That’s wonderful!  They took away mine.”

Sandy gave a short exclamation.  “They didn’t take ours,” he said, referring to himself and Cycil.  “Why did they take yours, Wysire?”

“I don’t know,” Wysire answered sadly.  “Moru, my supervisor, didn’t give any explanation really.  He just took it.”

“Have you tried asking to have it returned?” Jaeger asked, not sounding very hopeful.

“Yes, I did ask once,” Wysire said.  “He said that I couldn’t have it.”

“My supervisor took mine as well,” Detrin put in quietly.  “And I was nearly finished memorizing the letters of Paul.  I wish now that I had applied myself more to finishing them earlier.”

“Detrin, you’ll make us feel guilty, if you talk like that,” said Jade.  “You’ve memorized more than twice what any two of us could recite.”

“But I didn’t finish,” Detrin replied.  “And now I haven’t got it.  When will I ever get another Bible?  We have no idea how long we’ll be here, and I’m sure that I’ll not find one here on this planet.  No matter what you say, I didn’t do as much or as well as I could have done.”

“Regret won’t change anything,” Wysire said gently.  “It’s gone.  What’s done is done.   There’s nothing that you can do about it, so for the time being you should be content with what you have.  Remember that you have far, far more than I have.”

“I’d tear my Bible in three and give you each a section, if I thought that it would do any good,” said Jaeger.  “Then we could swap pieces from time to time, and we’d all have access to a large part of the scriptures at any point in time.”

“No, no you mustn’t do that,” said Wysire quickly.  “At least not for my sake, you mustn’t.  You’d only lose a third of your own Bible that way.  I don’t know about Detrin, but I’m sure that for me even if I was to acquire another one or even a piece of one, they’d only take it away again.”

“If you wouldn’t mind bringing it here as long as they let you,” said Detrin, “it would mean the world to me, at any rate.  Perhaps I could read some of it sometimes while we’re all here?”

“Of course!” said Jaeger, extending it towards Detrin.  “As often as you like.”

 

Detrin started to reach out to accept it, but pulled back.  “No, you had said that you wanted to have devotions,” he said.  “I know that it’s starting to get late, and we ought to do that now if we want to do it all.  I can wait until tomorrow night.”

“Is group devotions something that everyone would like to do?” asked Jaeger, looking around at all of them.  “I don’t want assume that everyone is in agreement without asking first.”

The other boys were all quick to express their agreement, leaving Jaeger no room for doubt.

“I think that having devotions together in the evenings would be – will be wonderful,” said Wysire, “especially now that I’m not able to have them as well on my own.”

“I do wish that there was something we could do about that,” said Jade.

“I could give you my Bible!” Sandy exclaimed suddenly.  “Cycil and I are together, so we could share one easily enough.  I could give you my Bible, at least for the time being.”

Wysire smiled, but shook his head.  “Thank you, but no; as I said earlier, they’d only take it, I’m sure, and then we’d just be short one more as a group.  No, I think that it would be best for everyone to keep theirs for now.  And do keep them as safe as possible!  If we can have devotions together every night, it really will help those of us who are now without easy access to the scriptures.”

And so they did.  The other boys who still had their Bibles started bringing them every night.  When it was time for devotions, Sandy would give his to Detrin and then share with Cycil, and Eriane would share his with Wysire.

Leil joined them on the third night of capture, and the boys all agreed to meet there together every night afterwards.  By the fourth night, they began to wonder at the absence of Djaisiuk.  Might he not know about this eating room?  Might his schedule not permit him to come at a time at which they were there?  None liked to think it, but all knew that the possibility did exist that perhaps he might not want to come.  No one ever voiced this however.

In actuality, all of these suppositions were correct.  Djaisiuk did not know of the eating room; his then current schedule did not permit him to come at any time at which they were there or otherwise; nor did he care to try to have this changed.  His mind was occupied with other matters.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 6 - A Second Attempt

Djaisiuk was awakened the second day when the light in his small bedchamber was lit.  He blinked once or twice, then glanced around the room.  There was no one else in the tiny room, so he had to assume that the light came on of its own accord to signal that it was time to rise.  This he did.  He was well rested, despite having passed the night in a strange room on a strange planet as a prisoner of an enemy race.  The room in which he had slept was either completely soundproof, or it was a sufficient distance from any activity to render it equally silent.  Both the sleeping room and the working room were kept at a constant, comfortable temperature, and yet the air was so well cleaned and circulated that it seemed nearly as fresh as outdoors on Komislava.
 

Exiting the sleeping room and entering the workroom, Djaisiuk first noticed a small parchment, lying on the crescent table next to the right-most computer.  Looking at it, he saw that several codes were typed across its face with a note under them that said, “Here is your first trust; show that you deserve it.”
 

There was no visible reaction with Djaisiuk, but indeed there almost never was.  He sat silently at the computers, entered the codes provided, and returned to work on the project to which he had been assigned.
 

About ten minutes passed, and the young Vukasovian from the previous day reentered the room and sat again at the left-most computer.  He said nothing, and Djaisiuk said nothing to him.  Another fifteen minutes passed, and the door opened again to admit an orderly with two meal trays.  The trays were set on the circular table, on the side nearest the two boys, and the orderly subsequently left the room.  Djaisiuk entered a few more commands, then, still without a word, turned, stood, and moved to the round table.
 

The young Vukasovian remained at his own computer until Djaisiuk had finished eating one of the two breakfasts provided and had returned to work.  He then went himself to the round table and ate the other meal.  When he returned, he again sat silently for a time, watching Djaisiuk.  Djaisiuk continued to work without ever looking up at him.  Finally, the boy spoke.
 

“My name is Kiacyl, in case you don’t remember,” he said.  “I've never been told your name.  What you would like me to call you?”
 

Djaisiuk did not look at him or reply.  Kiacyl waited for a moment, and then tried again.
 

“Why will you not speak to me?” he asked.
 

There was no response.
 

“Are you a mute?” asked Kiacyl, beginning to sound annoyed now.  “Surely you can speak?”
 

No reply.
 

“Can you hear?”
 

Still no reply.
 

Kiacyl looked quite upset by this time, but he made no further attempts at conversation.  For some time they sat thus, Djaisiuk refusing to so much as acknowledge Kiacyl’s presence.  After a time however, Djaisiuk turned to Kiacyl’s computer, brought up a screen of code on it, and said simply, “Fix this.”  He did not look at Kiacyl, but simply turned back to his own work without another word.
 

Kiacyl was startled, to say the least, but quickly turned to his computer, pleased to at last have some work to do.  He immediately found that the task to which he had just been assigned was far too advanced for him to accomplish.  He struggled with the project for a little time, then turned again to Djaisiuk.
 

“I’m sorry,” he began, “but I can’t do this.  I– I can’t even read it.  I don’t know what you want me to do here.”
 

Djaisiuk did not respond.  He continued what he was doing.  Kiacyl sat quietly for a bit, then turned back to the screen and continued his futile attempts to understand the assignment.
 

Lunch was the same as breakfast had been, a silent affair with Kiacyl again waiting until Djaisiuk had eaten before partaking of his own meal.  After lunch, Djaisiuk again gave Kiacyl a task to work, one much simpler this time, with even less speech than he had offered in the morning.  Kiacyl found himself at least able to work on this one, although he wasn’t at all sure of whether he was doing it correctly.
 

As evening drew on, an orderly entered again, this time bearing only one meal tray.  Kiacyl seemed to take this as a signal of sorts and left the room.  Djaisiuk ate his meal, and then returned to his work.

It was not long after the evening meal had been cleared away by the usual orderly that Kandryl again entered Djaisiuk’s workroom.  He waited for a moment just inside the door before Djaisiuk finally looked up from his work.  Kandryl looked at him closely but said nothing.  If Djaisiuk was simply being impudent, then Kandryl liked his attitude, but still not knowing exactly why Djaisiuk was behaving in this way, Kandryl was not going to show any sort of approval yet.  Instead he simply motioned Djaisiuk to come to the circular table and then seated himself in the same place as the night previous.
 

“You have had a full day to settle yourself,” said Kandryl, once Djaisiuk was seated silently at the table.  “Are you now prepared to speak when ordered to do so?”
 

Djaisiuk did not answer and continued to stare vaguely past Kandryl, his eyes half-closed and his face perfectly expressionless.
 

“I warned you last night that I would not be so lenient tonight,” continued Kandryl.  “You may choose to obey or not as you will, but understand that disobedience will bring consequences.  Now, will you speak?”
 

Djaisiuk did not move or blink.  One might almost have thought him asleep, had not his eyes been open.
 

Kandryl leaned forward a little and spoke in a slightly firmer voice.  “My patience, although considerable, is not limitless.  I ask you for the last time, will you cooperate?”
 

Djaisiuk swallowed once, then said firmly, “No.”
 

Djaisiuk’s eyes still did not move and his face still displayed no emotion.  Indeed no part of him moved except for his mouth and throat, but his voice was firm, albeit very hoarse.
 

Kandryl’s eyebrows rose.  He was impressed.  He liked this boy’s self-possession and daring.  Kandryl would never have expected this kind of behavior from a Komislavian.  He had to remind himself that he was not going to allow this rebellion to continue.  Djaisiuk may be as stubborn and rebellious as he liked, but only after he had reached the point that Kandryl trusted him fully.  And right now, Kandryl certainly did not trust him.
 

“You will be allowed no sleep tonight until you agree to answer a few questions,” said Kandryl firmly.  “Your stubbornness will only cause you more discomfort in the end than would your speech.  It would be simplest to comply with my requests, and I will not keep you long.”
 

There was no reaction.
 

Kandryl continued thus for a few minutes, but Djaisiuk would say nothing.  Finally Kandryl ceased his questions and rose from the table.
 

“I am going to leave you now,” he said.  “The guard will stay here with you.  If you decide that you are ready to speak, you may send for me.  If not, I will return tomorrow morning.”
 

Kandryl rose and summoned the guard, instructing him to remain in the room and to see to it that Djaisiuk did not leave the room or go to his sleeping quarters.  With that, Kandryl left.
 

No sooner had Kandryl left the room, however, then Djaisiuk turned to face the table, folded his arms on it, and laid his head down on his arms.  The guard had been instructed to see to it that Djaisiuk did not leave the room.  Kandryl, being almost completely consumed with his own thoughts, had neglected to tell the guard that Djaisiuk was not permitted to sleep.  Therefore the guard merely stood and did nothing as Djaisiuk almost immediately fell asleep there at the table.

* * * * * * *

After leaving Djaisiuk, Kandryl returned to his own quarters.  Kandryl’s quarters were very large, having rooms for many purposes.  This was not only where Kandryl himself ate and slept, but also where he and many others worked.  This was the central unit of the facility; the “central nervous system” of the operation, so to speak.  From the observation room, one could see what was happening anywhere in the facility.  All orders originated here, and all work eventually flowed through here.  Anyone might be summoned here at any time for any reason.  And anyone who wished to see Kandryl could come here at almost any time.
 

Kandryl went now to a side office of sorts where he was accustomed to working when he had much to think about.  He had not been there long before Drayl entered looking very pleased with himself.  Kandryl acknowledged him, and Drayl presented Kandryl with several large diagrams.
 

“These are much simpler and gentler than the machines which I am accustomed to designing,” said Drayl, “but I think that any one of them would prove effective.”
 

Kandryl silently paged through the large sheets, looking carefully at each one.  Finally, he chose one, leaned back, and examined it closely.
 

“Ah, yes,” said Drayl.  “The benefit of that one is that it cannot, in any way, damage his ability to work.  It would not be suitable for many of the others, if you decided to use it on them, but on this one, it would be effective without being wasteful.”
 

Kandryl continued to consider the diagram silently for a moment more, then lent forward again and laid the paper flat on the desk.
 

“This is still too excessive,” he said.  “Eliminate the left leg and remove this section.  Keep just this part.”
 

Drayl frowned darkly.  “If I may speak freely,” he began, “that part alone would be no more than a child’s toy.  It will accomplish nothing.”
 

"It will suffice for what I want," replied Kandryl.  "I do not want him maimed."
 

"You are too used to Londarians," snorted Drayl.  "This boy is Komislavian; he would laugh at something so small and trifling as that."
 

Kandryl looked up at him.  “I say that it will be sufficient,” he said sternly.
 

Drayl crossed his arms.  “I would not be willing even to admit to having designed it,” he said.  “It would be an embarrassment to my reputation.”
 

“Your reputation will not suffer, and you need not claim credit for it,” said Kandryl.  “Say that I designed it if you like; I don’t care.  But what you have here is too much.  This part alone will be sufficient.  How soon can it be ready?”
 

“Tomorrow,” said Drayl scornfully.  “That part alone would not take a day to create.”
 

“And will it be safe?” asked Kandryl, looking at him keenly.  “In a single day, can you both create it and assure that it will cause no permanent damage?”
 

“I don’t believe that that would be capable of causing permanent damage, but I will make sure of it.  The Komislavian doctor will help with that.  Also, we can test it beforehand, if you like.”
 

Kandryl nodded.  “Take an extra day if you must, but make it safe.  Once it is ready, we’ll test it on one of the three unwilling Komislavians.  But I want you to be certain that it won’t cause permanent damage before it is tested.  Even these test subjects are valuable.”

Drayl still looked disgusted, but he voiced no more of his disapproval.  He merely accepted the diagrams again and left to begin work.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 5 - Consultation

Kandryl went about to each section in turn, checking on the progress and work that each of the boys had done that day and speaking with the various supervisors.  The boys had been dismissed from their work over an hour earlier, so Kandryl was able to speak freely with the supervisors without concerning himself with how the boys may interpret his words.  He found that most had been perfectly compliant and ready to work, willing to do whatever was asked of them.  The supervisors of Jaeger and Detrin both said that those two had shown at least small signs of stubbornness at times, but it had not yet led to conflict.  Wysire’s work was difficult to judge: Moru said that he had no way of verifying its accuracy and that he didn’t trust the boy, though he couldn’t say exactly why.
 

Kandryl had much to consider as he walked back through the halls towards his own quarters.  This project was enormous, and there were innumerable contingencies which must be considered and evaluated.  It would have been so much easier if Djaisiuk had not been among this group!  The project would succeed regardless; Kandryl had no doubt of that.  His only concern was whether he ought to continue to allow Djaisiuk to work, given his apparently obstinate nature, or to simply lock him away for the time being, until the rest of the boys were well settled and Kandryl had time to devote himself fully to this young recusant.
 

The question that continually arose in Kandryl’s mind was this: why was Djaisiuk refusing to answer his questions?  If it was arrogance, then that would be acceptable.  If it was willfulness, that would be unacceptable unless it was confined only to the area of speech.  If it was open defiance, wanting only to show that he could not or would not be controlled, then it was certainly intolerable.  In the latter case, Djaisiuk’s will must certainly be broken, quickly and mercilessly.  In one of lower intelligence, Kandryl would not be so concerned; he would simply lock the boy away with the other three.  But Djaisiuk was too valuable to simply lock away.  He must be used.  If Kandryl could make him serve them willingly, or even only indifferently, Vukosava would have gained a great asset indeed.
 

Kandryl decided that if Djaisiuk persisted in this apparent defiance, he would interview some of the other members of the crew in order to find out all he could about Djaisiuk’s personality.  This could help to determine why Djaisiuk was acting like this and whether Kandryl ought to expect it to continue.  In the meantime, however, Djaisiuk would have to be shown that Kandryl would not put up with open defiance of any sort.

* * * * * * *
In his own quarters, Kandryl sent for Drayl, the head of the medical unit.  When the latter arrived, Kandryl briefly explained the situation regarding Djaisiuk.
 

“He could be an invaluable worker, but he’s not entirely obedient,” said Kandryl.  “He’s stubborn, and he seems willful, though it could be simply arrogance.  It’s hard to say for certain.  The only thing about which I am certain is the fact that I don’t trust him.  I am going to need a way to break his will; I want him to obey me in everything without question.”
 

Drayl raised his eyebrows.  "If I may say so, I'm a little surprised that this is the only one with whom you are having such difficulties."
 

"The others can be controlled easily; their emotions betray their every thought," Kandryl replied with a note of disgust.  "This one shows nothing.  It has, thus far, been impossible to even guess what he is thinking.  If it weren't for his stature and features, the boy could be Vukasovian."  He sighed.  "I must have him.  What methods can you offer to bring him fully under my control?"
 

“There are many possibilities available,” said Drayl.  “We have the mind-altering device that was invented by Coriani some time ago.  That’s proved very effective on Vukasovians and Udolians, although it hasn’t been tested on Komislavians yet.  We also have a mind drug that could be administered; that would probably be the quickest and easiest method.  Or, if you want something a little more drastic but generally more effective in complete and permanent breaking of the will rather than temporary manipulation, there is always physical torment.  We’ve innumerable options there.”
 

“I know that I don’t want to try the mind-altering device,” said Kandryl.  “That would be too risky.  It has been known to damage the intellect of some of its victims."
 

Drayl shook his head with a gesture of dismissal.  "A paltry few," he said.  "A quite insignificant percentage."
 

"Even one would be too many," replied Kandryl firmly.  "I need a way to break this one's spirit without any possible damage to his mind.  Physical functions are easily repaired or replaced, but intellect of that level is not something with which it is safe to gamble; it is entirely irreplaceable.”
 

“There is also the mind drug,” Drayl suggested.  “It does no damage to the intellect, though it does render the personality submissive.  The subject may not be as easily controlled through that route as with the Coriani device, but I think that it would serve your purpose.”
 

Kandryl nodded thoughtfully.  “Perhaps, but that has not yet been tested on Komislavian minds; there is no way to be sure that there would be no ill-effects.  Remember that they are not like us mentally.  They are far closer to the Londarians, in that respect.”
 

“It's never been tested on a Londarian either,” replied Drayl.  “We certainly could perform such a test easily enough, for we have several Londarians available, but they are so pathetically cringing as a race, that we wouldn’t necessarily be able to tell whether the drug made them more submissive.  But it would, at least, show whether or not the drug damages the mind.”
 

Kandryl shook his head.  “The Londarians are idiots,” he said.  “Even if the drug did no damage to them, I wouldn’t feel safe using it on this one.  I would first want it proven that it could not, in the least, damage the intelligence level of one so high.”
 

“Even that could easily be done,” said Drayl.  “We do have three Komislavian subjects of high intellect that are to be used for testing and observation, you said.  I only suggested the Londarians because I know that they are more expendable.”
 

“Yes, we might use one of those three,” Kandryl considered.  “But not yet.  I want to wait first and see whether any of them will relent and join their fellows in working for us before I do something that may irrevocably damage them.  What other options are readily available?”
 

“We have many devices created to inflict physical pain, if you’d like to go that route,” Drayl replied, a cruel smile playing about his mouth.  “But few of these were designed to minimize long-term damage, and none have been tested on Komislavians, though in physical makeup there is generally very little difference between our races.”
 

Kandryl nodded.  “It would certainly be my preference to try the effect of physical pain before resorting to any mind-affecting drugs, but I do want to avoid long-term physical damage.  We may have to invent something completely new.  Can you come up with something quickly that will inflict pain without causing any permanent or long-term damage?  It will not need to be too barbarous; he’s only a young student.  I doubt very much whether he’s accustomed to having to bear any pain at all.  His tolerance is doubtless very low.”
 

“He is a Komislavian, if I may say so,” countered Drayl cautiously.  “They’re a hardy race, and many of them have a very high tolerance for pain.”
 

“Drayl, I do not want one of your usual machines,” said Kandryl firmly.  “I want something tame.  These are students, not physical laborers.  You may make something with varying levels of intensity, if you like, but nothing like your normal work.  I want something simple that can be made quickly.”
 

“As you wish,” shrugged Drayl, assuming an indifferent expression.  “I can begin immediately.”
 

“How long do you expect it to take?” Kandryl asked.
 

“I can’t be sure,” replied Drayl.  “It will depend entirely on what exactly you want.  I’ll draw up a few possibilities for you to consider and bring the plans to you tomorrow.  After that, it should be no more than two days before the device could be created, depending on the materials required.”  Drayl smiled again as he continued, “I can be very efficient when I’m doing something that I enjoy.”
 

Kandryl nodded.  “Very well,” he said.  “Prepare the plans for your ‘possibilities’ immediately.  But if he displays the same stubbornness and rebellion tomorrow night, then I’ll have to find something to try in the meantime.  This cannot go unpunished for that long.”
 

“If I may make a suggestion,” offered Drayl, “the one thing that has rendered men of all races submissive regardless of their tolerance for pain is this: hunger.  Deny him food, and he will submit.  And even if he holds out so long that continued fasting will damage him, it will, at least, fill the time between now and when the new device will be ready.  Knowing that they are an agricultural community, I would tend to doubt that he has been a single day in his life without food.”
 

Kandryl nodded thoughtfully.  “Yes, I may try that,” he said.  “It certainly does seem a rather archaic method of domination, not to mention somewhat risky, but it may be worth doing.  I may also try sleep deprivation, though I wouldn’t want to do that for more than one or two nights.  Very well, you are dismissed.  Bring me your ideas as soon as they are ready.”
 

Drayl rose, saluted, and left the room.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 4 - A Battle of Wills

Djaisiuk followed Kandryl down several hallways and into a small, rectangular room.  The room was sparsely furnished, obviously meant for work and not for leisure.  There were two doors in the room: the one through which they had entered, and another in the center of the wall on their right.  In front of them was a round table with two chairs.  To the left, the room stretched out to encompass also a crescent shaped table with two chairs.  Three computer terminals were set up on the crescent table, and a young Vukasovian, apparently in his early teens, sat at the far left-hand computer.  This boy turned and stood as they entered.
 

“This is where you will work,” said Kandryl to Djaisiuk.  He pointed to the second door in the room.  “That door leads to a sleeping area.  It will be your room.”
 

Kandryl stepped into the room and walked to the computers.
 

“This is Kiacyl,” he said, indicating the Vukasovian boy but not looking at him.  “He will be your assistant.  You will not find him to be anywhere near your intelligence level, so you will need to instruct him somewhat in whatever he needs to know in order to assist you satisfactorily.”
 

Kandryl entered several codes in the middle and right-hand computer terminals.  This done, he stepped back and looked at Djaisiuk again.
 

“There is a project already started here,” he said.  “You are to finish it.  I have unlocked the computers and all of the information that you will need.  I will lock it again tonight when you finish for the day.  If I find that you work satisfactorily, I will give you the codes that you will need in time.”
 

Without another word, Kandryl walked out of the room.  Djaisiuk went immediately but unhurriedly to the computers, sat down at the right-most terminal, and looked over the assignment, taking no further notice of the young Vukasovian.  The assigned project was, for him, a fairly simple one.  Tedious perhaps, but simple.  He set to work immediately.
 

For a short time, the other boy said nothing, but merely sat down again and looked at Djaisiuk.  His look was, for the most part, touched with neither scorn nor disgust, as would normally be expected of a Vukasovian who had just been assigned to work with a Komislavian.  He looked fairly unconcerned and even a very little bit curious.
 

After about an hour, he began to look bored.

* * * * * * *

For Kandryl, the next few hours were spent in seeing to it that the other ‘willing’ boys were suitably settled into their new respective positions.  After this, he saw to the assignments regarding the use and storage of the three boys who had refused to work.  This latter task did not take nearly so long as the first, but the instructions had to be minute, just the same.  By the time that everything was finished, the day was nearly ended.
 

Kandryl knew that there was still much to be done, but it had been a good day’s work.  Really, all that he had to do now was to wait and watch.  The willing boys were working well, showing no signs, at least in the beginning, of rebellion or stubbornness.  The unwilling boys were a minority, and at least one of these seemed as though he would turn to them soon enough.  The other two were a loss, it was true, but they might, at least, provide beneficial information as test subjects, if nothing else.  Yes, indeed, to all appearances, the plan was working quite well.
 

Djaisiuk was the one possible difficulty; his intelligence surpassed anything that Kandryl had expected.  Kandryl was not completely unprepared; he had arranged for a few projects for one of great intelligence should there be one on the ship, and these would buy him time to prepare further.  But Djaisiuk was far beyond even his greatest expectations.  This could be good, or this could be bad.  This young man could be an exceptional prize or a deadly time bomb.  Just keeping him alive could be a very great risk.
 

In his own quarters, Kandryl brought up the project on which Djaisiuk was now working and settled himself to review the work that Djaisiuk had done so far.  It took some time.  The project was now nearly completed, and it was flawless.  It was as good as or better than Kandryl could have done himself.  It was surprising, pleasing, and a little unnerving.  Kandryl was reminded that he must keep a very close eye on this one.
 

Once finished, Kandryl returned to Djaisiuk’s room.  Djaisiuk sat working; Kiacyl sat waiting.
 

“How much have you done?” Kandryl asked Djaisiuk.
 

Djaisiuk wordlessly slid his chair back to give Kandryl command of the screen.
 

Kandryl glanced over it briefly, then turned to Kiacyl.  “It is late.  You may retire,” he said.  Then to Djaisiuk, “I would like to speak with you yet tonight.  Come over here.”  He motioned to the round table.
 

The young Vukasovian got up silently and left the room.  Djaisiuk also got up silently and sat down at the round table, looking not at Kandryl but rather gazing vaguely at the wall across from himself.  Kandryl locked the computers, as he had said that he would, then walked over and seated himself next to Djaisiuk, facing the door, and looked intently at him for a few moments.  Djaisiuk did not meet his gaze.
 

“Tell me,” said Kandryl at last, “do you always work so quickly?”
 

“No,” replied Djaisiuk after a short silence, still not looking at Kandryl.
 

Kandryl paused, as if waiting for an explanation, then said, “Explain what affects your speed.”
 

“Fatigue.  Stress.  Pain.”  Djaisiuk answered slowly and tonelessly, as if he were a machine programmed to speak so.  This method of speech was normal for him, but Kandryl could not know that.  This amount of speech was abnormal for him, but Kandryl could not yet know that either.
 

“Assuming the absence of these hindrances, how long could you work at maximum efficiency?” asked Kandryl.
 

Djaisiuk met Kandryl’s eyes for a moment, then he looked away again.  “I don’t know,” he said.
 

“Do you feel any of these now?”
 

“Yes.”
 

Kandryl again paused.  He had noticed by now that Djaisiuk answered each question in as few syllables as possible.  He offered no explanation unless one was specifically requested.  Was this defiance?  Or was it something different?  “Which ones do you feel now?” he asked.
 

“Fatigue,” was the emotionless reply.
 

“Do you wish to sleep now?” asked Kandryl.
 

“Yes.”
 

Kandryl smiled.  Amazing, he thought to himself.  He scarcely seems human.  “Tell me first,” he continued, speaking aloud again, “are you biologically or artificially enhanced, physically or mentally?”
 

“No.”
 

“You are now physically as you always have been?”
 

Djaisiuk did not answer.
 

Kandryl’s smiled faded.  “Did you hear what I said?”
 

Djaisiuk paused for a long moment before answering.  “Yes,” he said at last.
 

“Why will you not answer?”
 

Speaking now very slowly, Djaisiuk said, “I do not like to speak.”
 

Kandryl raised his eyebrows.  This was the longest (and almost only, thus far) full sentence that Kandryl had yet been able to produce from Djaisiuk.  He could not know the pain that Djaisiuk was feeling in his throat from having to speak so much in such a short time, nor the annoyance that the pain was producing in Djaisiuk.  Djaisiuk did not want to talk.  He did want to sleep.  He did not enjoy talking on the best of days, but it was even more annoying now when he was tired.
 

“Do you speak when you are with your friends?” asked Kandryl.
 

Djaisiuk did not answer.
 

“You have said that you do not like to speak,” said Kandryl.  “So be it.  I will not require you to speak long.  But I will have answers to the questions I wish to put to you.  Will you answer?”
 

Djaisiuk gave no indication that he had even heard.
 

“I expect obedience in all areas,” said Kandryl in a tone of warning.  “I’m sure that you are aware of the fact that we have means to ‘help’ a person to cooperate.  But surely one so intelligent as yourself need not be threatened with such means.  Or do you require such assistance?”
 

Even this speech produced no effect whatsoever.  Djaisiuk sat without moving, eyes half closed as if bored, staring at the wall.
 

“You said that you are tired.”
 

No response.
 

“Should I take that to mean that you are no longer tired?”
 

Still no response.
 

Kandryl smiled.  “Very well,” he said.  “I will allow you this respite: you may go to bed.  Tomorrow evening we will speak again, but I warn you, I will not be so lenient then.”
 

With that, Kandryl rose and left the room.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 3 - New Orders

The lights in the ship came on again shortly after the ship landed.  Jaeger then rose and touched the command console, but it did not respond; it was still being controlled by someone or something outside.  As he returned to his seat, Djaisiuk reentered the room.  The other boys looked up as Djaisiuk entered, Creole in particular looking at him questioningly, but Djaisiuk did not meet their gazes.  He walked silently to a vacant chair and sat down.
 

“Djaisiuk?” began Creole, but he then stopped suddenly, hearing the hull door open.
 

The boys sat in perfect silence as the sounds of several footsteps came to them from the outer halls.  There seemed to be the slightest hesitation in the steps as if the owners did not know their surroundings well.  One began to climb the metal ladder to the engine room.  Creole started towards the door, but Eriane held him back.  “No,” he whispered.  “Wait.”  Creole slowly retook his seat as the other footsteps continued.  The door to Cycil and Sandy’s room was opened.  The two of them tensed but did not move.
 

The remaining footsteps approached the control room.
 

A Vukasovian officer of low rank flanked by two soldiers entered.  They stopped short with apparent (albeit quickly veiled) surprise when they saw the twelve boys staring at them.  The officer stared back at them for a moment, then quickly recovered himself.  He drew himself up haughtily.
 

“Is this all of you?” he asked sternly, counting them with his eyes.
 

The boys glanced at one another.  Jaeger was the first to speak.
 

“Yes,” he said.
 

“You will come with us,” the officer ordered. 

The boys rose silently and lined up by age (out of habit) in front of the guard indicated; Jaeger, Jade, Leil, Djaisiuk, Eriane, Wysire, Detrin, Cycil, and Sandy.  A few of the boys looked a bit surprised when Djaisiuk joined them, but none said anything.  Creole, Christopher, and Faquire remained seated where they were.  Creole looked the officer in the eye defiantly.  Faquire looked away, as if bored.  Christopher alone looked perhaps a very little bit nervous.
 

“I said, you will come with us,” the officer repeated, looking at the three who remained.  When they still refused to obey, he continued, “You will do so willingly or unwillingly.  You may choose which.”
 

“Very well then,” said Creole defiantly, “I choose to do so unwillingly.  Now make me.”
 

The officer nodded to the first soldier to escort the nine willing boys off of the ship, then instructed the second soldier to go and bring the others who were exploring the ship.  He would stay himself to watch the three ‘rebels,’ he said.  Knowing, as he did, that Komislavians did not carry weapons, he had no fear of staying alone with them.  He was armed; they were not.

The nine boys followed the guard out of the ship.  Outside, there awaited several young men, apparently orderlies of sorts in various uniforms, many more guards, and one officer of apparently very high rank.  The soldier who had led the boys stepped up to this officer and explained very briefly about the three boys who refused to come willingly.  The officer nodded curtly, gave a few quiet orders to him, and motioned him aside.  The soldier reentered the ship, and the officer then stepped forward himself and looked at the Komislavian boys with what any Vukasovian would have called a very friendly expression.
 

“Welcome to Vukosava,” he said.  “I am Kandryl, and I will be your new superior officer.  You have been selected because of your remarkable intelligence to participate in the work of a new research facility.  Each of you has unique skills and training that make you valuable.  We would like first to scan your information in order to see where best to place you.  Please step forward one at a time.”
 

The boys then noticed a Komislavian scanner on a table before one of the orderlies.  They wondered somewhat at this, but did not question it.  All members of the IC School had a data chip implanted in the back of their right hand which contained not only information about the individual and their training and assignment, but also current physical information.  A scanner could tell the name, age, position, intelligence level, and much more about the person scanned.  The officer Kandryl seemed interested only in the first four items at the moment.
 

Jaeger stepped forward silently and placed his hand beneath the scanner.
 

“Name: Jaeger; age: 19; position: pilot/captain; iT level 84,” Kandryl read aloud.  “Very impressive.  You’ll go with Jf. Hidral.”
 

Kandryl motioned Jaeger to one of the Vukasovian orderlies standing waiting, who then escorted Jaeger away.  Jaeger looked back at the others as he left with a look that said, ‘I’ll find you all again soon.’  Then he disappeared from their sight.
 

Kandryl then continued in the same way with each the others.
 

“Jade; 18; navigator; 79; you’ll go with Jf. Rodre.  Leil; 17; engineer; 64,” he paused.  “Interesting.  Rather lower than I would have expected.  You’ll go with Jf. Fobai.”
 

When Djaisiuk placed his hand under the scanner, Kandryl blinked and looked at the display in surprise.  Djaisiuk did not react, although a few of the other boys smiled.  They all knew what he was now seeing.  Djaisiuk’s data chip was different from the others in that rather than giving information immediately, it gave first a command:

Djaisiuk of the IC School.
DO NOT QUESTION HIS ACTIONS
– Taician, Head of the IC School

This appeared in large bold letters across the screen.
 

Kandryl frowned, half in confusion, half in annoyance, and motioned the orderly to display the next screen.  This showed the information that Kandryl wanted.
 

“Djaisiuk,” he pronounced slowly.  “Age 17; researcher/inven–” Kandryl paused, looked up at Djaisiuk, and raised one eyebrow.  “iT level 112?” he said quietly.  The other Vukasovians in the room looked at Djaisiuk, stunned.  Djaisiuk still did not look up.
 

“I’ve never seen a level that high . . . in one so young,” Kandryl continued.  In truth, he had never seen one that high.  His own was among the highest on his planet, and it was but 98.
 

“Step aside,” he said at last.  “You’ll come with me.”
 

Turning back to the scanner, he motioned Eriane forward.  “Eriane; 15; physician; 72; you’ll go with Drayl.  Wysire; 14; psychologist/counselor.”  Again Kandryl stopped and looked up.  “Counselor?” he repeated with obvious scorn in his voice.
 

Wysire’s silver eyes flashed, but his voice remained calm.  “Yes,” he said.  “Counselor.”
 

Kandryl regarded him silently for a moment.  “No iT level listed.  I suppose that in your profession it is difficult to measure.  You'll go with Moru,” he said.  He then motioned Detrin forward.  “Detrin; 13; electrician; 81.  Very nice.  You’ll go with Jf. Ruchea.  Cycil; 9; errand runner.  Ah, so you are not a member of this mission then?”
 

Cycil shook his head.  “Sandy and I just help out wherever we’re needed,” he said.
 

Kandryl nodded in understanding.  “You’ll both go with Jf. Jiaril for now,” he said.
 

As Sandy and Cycil left with the orderly indicated, Kandryl motioned to the guard at the door of the ship.  The guard then called to another within, and Creole, Christopher, and Faquire were brought out of the ship, each led forcibly by a guard.
 

Kandryl stepped forward, looking at them with the same friendly expression with which he had greeted the other boys.  “I understand,” he said, “that you three have some, shall we say, reservations about this relocation.”
 

“Say rather,” said Creole sharply, “that, do what you will, I won’t serve you or your race.”
 

“I’m not asking you to serve me,” Kandryl smiled.  “This is an experimental facility and I’m humbly asking you to take part, only for as long as you like.”
 

“I didn’t realize that ‘humbly’ was a word in the Vukasovian dialect,” said Faquire, frowning.
 

“Nevertheless I do ask,” said Kandryl, still smiling, “humbly.”
 

“In that case,” said Christopher politely, “I very respectfully decline.”
 

Seeing Kandryl’s eyes begin to harden, Creole said with mock politeness, “And if you change that humble request to an order, I will decline not so very respectfully.”
 

“I have no intention of ordering you to do anything,” continued Kandryl unperturbed, his voice softening to a sort of purr.  “I ask you to work with us.  You refuse.  Why?”
 

Creole and Faquire looked at him incredulously.
 

“Do you really want an honest answer to that?” asked Creole.
 

“Of course I do,” Kandryl replied.  “I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”
 

“Well, the fact that you commandeered our ship and kidnapped all of us plays a little part in my refusal,” said Creole.  “Beyond that, there is your race itself.  You Vukasovians have only one thought and one goal: that of conquest.  You won’t be happy until you’ve destroyed or subjugated every other race in existence.  My race seeks only peace.  We would never wish to conquer anyone.  Knowing what I know of your race and what you know of mine, can you possibly imagine that I’d work for or with you willingly?”
 

“Your friends seemed to have no difficulty in complying,” countered Kandryl.
 

“They’re afraid of you,” said Faquire quietly.  “We’re not.”
 

Kandryl smiled at him for a moment then turned his head slowly and deliberately to look at Djaisiuk who still stood off to one side of the room.  The three boys followed his gaze and seemed to notice Djaisiuk for the first time.  They all looked a bit startled.  Djaisiuk did not move or acknowledge their stares.  He remained standing perfectly still, staring at the floor.  Kandryl turned back to look at the three boys.
 

“Would you say that they are all afraid?” he asked.  “Is that the only reason that they comply?”
 

Christopher and Faquire looked at the floor, refusing to meet Kandryl’s eye.  Creole looked at Djaisiuk for a long moment, swallowed, and looked back at Kandryl.
 

“I don’t know why Djaisiuk would serve you,” he said.  “Very few people ever know why he does what he does.  But I don’t question him.”
 

“But, seeing that he agrees to work with us, you still refuse?” Kandryl asked.
 

“Yes,” Creole replied unhesitatingly, “I do.”
 

"But was it not you who said that he could give you the best advice regarding your own decision?"
 

Creole blinked, and Christopher and Faquire looked up quickly.  Realization seemed to dawn on them all at the same time.
 

"He did not offer me any advice then," replied Creole calmly, "and he does not now."
“But in light of his choice, why do you still refuse?” Kandryl asked.
 

Creole sighed and rolled his eyes.  “Do you really want me to repeat my reasons?”
 

Kandryl raised his eyebrows questioningly.
 

“I said that I don’t question his actions,” Creole continued.  “But unless he himself told me to serve you, I wouldn’t even consider doing so!  Even if he did tell me, I’m not sure that I’d do any more than consider it.”
 

“Suppose he told you his reasons,” said Kandryl.  “Then what?”
 

“That would depend on his reasons,” murmured Christopher.
 

Faquire swallowed and raised his chin defiantly.  “I will neither work for nor with you, no matter what you or Djaisiuk say,” he said.  “You can stand here arguing as long as you like, but it won’t change my mind, at any rate.  I will not serve you.”
 

Kandryl shrugged.  “I’ll give you time to think about it,” he said.  “You will be free to change your mind whenever you like.”
 

He motioned the guards to bring the boys forward to be scanned.  Creole did not submit to this willingly, but did not fight back.  Christopher allowed them to scan his hand without resistance.  Faquire did fight back, but more for show, it seemed, then from any real hope of success.  Kandryl ignored the struggles and simply read the information provided.
 

“Creole,” he read, “age 16; mechanic; iT level 92.  Very impressive.  Christopher; 16; mechanic; 81.  Faquire; 14; nutritionist; 79.”
 

Once the scan was done, he instructed the guards to take them to the holding cells, “to give them time to reflect,” he said.  The guards led the three boys away.
 

“The oldest one is remarkably intelligent,” Kandryl observed after they had left.  “One does not often see an iT level in the nineties.”  He turned to Djaisiuk.  “And never in the hundreds.”  He smiled.  Then, instructing to Djaisiuk to follow, he left the room.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 2 - Djaisiuk

In his room, Djaisiuk had indeed been preparing.  In his situation, he had to be ready for anything that might happen, however unlikely.  Quickly, but without haste, he sorted through his data and stored what he considered important and indispensable on his secret data chip.  Not even all of the other boys knew that he had this.  His data chip, stored inside the skull behind his right temple, undetectable by electronic and biologic scanners, invented by himself and accessible only by a device created by himself, could hold an enormous amount of information.  He used it as an emergency backup.  It had been created for ease of access, so that he would have the data that he wanted wherever and whenever he wished, but, in such a time as this, it was of inestimable value.

All of the information from their mission thus far, all of the more important data that he had stored on his computers here, all of the recent research that he had done, and all of the plans and schematics for the delicate equipment that he had invented over the last few years and that he would now have to destroy was soon stored safely in this secret storage compartment that no enemy could access.
 

Once the data was safely in storage, Djaisiuk proceeded to erase it all from his larger storage units.  He incinerated the small device used to access his data chip, knowing that he could easily build a new one at a later time.  He also carefully destroyed all of the more delicate instruments in his workroom, most of which he himself had created, and removed and destroyed vital parts of the larger, less destructible instruments with which he worked.
 

They made a mistake in allowing us time after informing us of their purpose, thought Djaisiuk.
 

The lights had been turned out in the rest of the ship, but Djaisiuk’s room was powered separately: from within itself.  Consequently, though the rest of the ship was in darkness, Djaisiuk had plenty of light in which to work.  Had the lights remained on outside, the Vukasovians could have watched the ship’s cameras (what few there were) to see what the boys would do and to hear what they would say.  As things stood, they could hear, if they wished, but they not see anything that happened.  This could still be a reason for granting them time for the fact of their capture to sink in.  It would enable the Vukasovians to learn something about the boys through observation before assigning them to whatever lay ahead.  In Djaisiuk’s case however, it was a mistake.
 

There were no cameras in Djaisiuk’s room nor in the hallway immediately outside of it.  The Vukasovians could not observe his room nor the work that he now did inside it.  Djaisiuk knew that none but himself could enter his workroom regardless, but it was not inconceivable that the Vukasovians would find a way.  Like as not, the security devices within the room would have destroyed everything in it before anyone could force an entry, but Djaisiuk would not take that chance.  Everything of importance must be carefully destroyed first.
 

Djaisiuk was glad for the delay for other reasons as well.  It gave him time to think.
 

This is not a simple case of piracy, he thought, this is kidnapping: a universal offense.  None of us are considered adults under the Treatise of the Confederation, so this act would be punishable by death without appeal for any who took part in it.  The Vukasovians as a whole would not risk this.  It would put their entire civilization at risk of interplanetary condemnation.  No, it would be too hazardous.  This is an isolated incident.  Either the government of Vukosava does not know, or it pretends to not know what is going on.  Does it know?  That is harder to say.  Any facility large enough to take our ship, assuming that it is based on the planet, and to attempt to ‘integrate’ us into their society would have to be known by the governing authorities.  The most logical assumption is that the government is well aware of what is going on, but has chosen to pretend that it does not know, with good reason. 

Djaisiuk could not have voiced these thoughts to the other boys.  Quite apart from his dislike of speaking (stemming partly from the physical pain that it gave him because he so seldom spoke but mostly from personal preference), he knew that the Vukasovians were probably listening.  Anything that he chose to say to the other boys would, most likely, be overheard.  Besides this, his thoughts moved so quickly that he moved through the entire argument just set forth and began to make plans based on hundreds of contingencies in the space of time that it would take an average person to speak aloud the first sentence of his thoughts.  No, he could not tell the others of his thoughts or plans.  Even if he wished to do so and knew that he would not be overheard, there would not be time.  He had far too much to do.
 

By the time fifteen minutes had elapsed, Djaisiuk had nearly completed both his preparations and his plans, as well as he could under the circumstances.  He checked to make sure that all in his room was done away with as it ought to be.  Sufficiently satisfied, he walked to the shorter wall on the right-hand side of the room and laid his right hand gently against it.
 

Here was a difficulty that he did not know how to remedy.  Djaisiuk did not dare to open the hidden compartment, knowing that the sight and feel of his instrument would make it all the more difficult to leave it behind.  It was not possible to bring it with him, but he doubted that he would be able to work easily for more than a few days without it.  He had functioned without it for years before he’d known of its existence, but since then he had come to depend upon it greatly.
 

Music was an integral part of Komislavian culture, and nearly all of the boys played some musical instrument: Jade played the lute; Leil played a Komislavian wind instrument called a svinzer; Creole the guitar; Christopher an electric mandolin; Faquire the synthesizer; Wysire played a small hand instrument called a juniel; Detrin played the flute; and Cycil played the violin.  Sandy liked to mix synthesized percussion on the computer, if that can be called an instrument.  Jaeger and Eriane played no instrument, though Jaeger liked to sing (but usually only when he was alone).  Those who played instruments understood the special bond that Djaisiuk had with his piano.  A musician and his instrument are not easily parted.
 

Djaisiuk had been a severe introvert from childhood.  His inability to relate to others frustrated him and caused him to withdraw further and further into himself as he grew.  In any other student of the IC School, the instructors would not have allowed this: they would have addressed the problem again and again until it was fixed.  With Djaisiuk, the instructors were so overwhelmed by his intelligence level that they often allowed “smaller issues” to go unaddressed.  A few of them really did try to work with him on his personal issues, but Djaisiuk would only grow distressed and more frustrated when he couldn’t seem to grasp exactly what was expected of him.  One by one, even those few instructors stopped trying, seeing that Djaisiuk worked and learned far slower when under emotional duress.
 

Now, at age seventeen, Djaisiuk was both the single most intelligent and the single most socially inept member of his race.  He was very kind, and he had the heart of a servant, but he would not speak to people or even look them in the eye unless he felt that it was unavoidable.  All who knew him loved him.  And all who knew him pitied him.  Djaisiuk’s inability to relate to people did still distress him at times, but those were the times when his piano was the most comforting.  Somehow the music helped to relieve the pain that he felt at being always alone.  It was the only way that he knew to relieve the stress that no one knew he felt.
 

Djaisiuk never understood why the old piano gave him such comfort.  His introduction to it had been a mere chance occurrence.  In visiting the living quarters of an instructor when he was six years old, he had seen the instrument for the first time.  It was taller than was Djaisiuk, several feet wide, and about two feet deep, yet it seemed, at first glance, to have no purpose to justify its existence.  The instructor, seeing him look at it with more than a cursory glance, offered to show Djaisiuk just what it was.
 

Djaisiuk did not know then, nor had he ever been told, but at that time, the instructors as a whole had been quite concerned about him.  They had seen the problems in him, but had not yet decided to let them go unaddressed.  Djaisiuk was, at that time, not yet seven years old, but from his entrance into the school until then, he had never shown emotion.  He remained always very withdrawn, never seeking the company of others, preferring always to be alone.  This, in his race, was very unusual, generally signifying a deeper, psychological problem or former emotional injury.  The instructors had tried, both individually and working together, to determine the root of the problem.  This had, in time, proved a futile exercise.

* * * * * * *

From birth, Djaisiuk had shown himself to be very different from his siblings.  He was always quiet, crying and making noise far less often than would a normal baby.  He seemed introverted and withdrawn from the start.  Before he was two years old, he showed himself to possess an extremely great intelligence.  His maturity, however, seemed to be accelerated only in the area of intellect; his physical growth and emotional maturity both seemed retarded.  But as he grew, Djaisiuk became more and more quiet and withdrawn.  He never played with other children, except occasionally with his older brother, nor did he ever speak unless someone asked him a question.  Even then, he did not always respond.  He would rarely -- if ever -- look a person in the eye.
 

When Djaisiuk was four, he was taken to the IC School for testing, partly in the hopes that there among others of his intellectual level he would be better able to learn to relate to others.  At the school, before he was even tested, Djaisiuk's parents were told that the school would not accept him until he was at least age six, but that he could be tested now to see whether they ought to bring him back at six, at ten, or not at all.  The test results astounded everyone.  Djaisiuk, in his untrained state, was more intelligent at age four than most boys schooled there were at age twelve.  Upon consideration, the head of the school agreed to accept him then and there.
 

As time passed and Djaisiuk did not learn to relate to others, many of the instructors became concerned.  Some suggested that Djaisiuk’s emotionally withdrawn state was due to the separation from the rest of his family at such an early age; they said that he ought not to have been accepted until he was six.  These instructors suggested that he be sent back to his family, arguing that his own emotional well-being was of far greater importance than were his contributions to the school through work or research.  Others disagreed with this, citing Djaisiuk’s own parents’ report when they had first brought him to the IC School, saying that he had never related well to others, even to his own family.  These instructors suggested (for lack of any better answer) that Djaisiuk was a unique individual in whom emotions were simply unnecessary; he obviously functioned well enough without them.  True, he did not seem ‘happy’ per se, but neither was he unhappy.  No full consensus was reached, but it was, at last, agreed upon by all that Djaisiuk should stay at the school.  The instructors ceased in their efforts to change him, agreeing rather to watch and wait, ready to step in at once should the problem appear to be worsening.
 

There was one instructor alone who disagreed with both the causes and the conclusions reached by the others.  He believed that the root of the problem was deeper and that the answer existed, but that it had simply not yet been found.  This instructor was very interested in Djaisiuk and worked hard to understand him.  He would talk to Djaisiuk, more than only in classes and training, trying to draw him out into a conversation.  He would encourage Djaisiuk to look at a person when they spoke and to answer questions that were not directly asked.  The former was attainable, but the latter seemed only to distress Djaisiuk when the instructor said it, for he could not seem to understand what exactly was expected of him.  The instructor did not give up, however, but worked ever harder, though always very gently.
 

It was this instructor who had introduced Djaisiuk to music of his own.  One day, about two years after Djaisiuk had joined the school, the instructor had invited Djaisiuk to come to his quarters.  Most of the instructors lived at the school, and their quarters were, therefore, where they and their families lived.  Students were sometimes invited to visit the quarters of different instructors, generally in small groups.  To be invited individually was considered a rare privilege.  The instructor had invited Djaisiuk alone, hoping to make him more comfortable and at ease in a quieter, less formal setting than in the classroom.  As Djaisiuk entered, his eyes had scanned the entire room and come to rest on the piano.  When the instructor saw Djaisiuk’s apparent interest in the piano (made obvious by the fact that he looked at it for longer than was necessary to determine that it did indeed exist), he was quick to offer to show Djaisiuk how it worked.  Djaisiuk did not object (indeed he said nothing), so the instructor proceeded to play a piece.  Djaisiuk seemed fascinated.  He approached the piano and watched the instructor’s quick fingers moving up and down the keys.  He then delighted and astonished the instructor by asking what the instrument was called.  That was the first time that that instructor had ever heard Djaisiuk ask a question.
 

From that day onward, the instructor had had Djaisiuk come to his rooms often to see the instrument and to learn to play it.  Djaisiuk learned enjoyment through the music.  It required very few lessons for Djaisiuk to master the piano.  He had soon played every piece of written music that the instructor owned and had begun to compose his own.  In time, Djaisiuk ceased using written music altogether.  He had but to play a piece once or twice, and it was memorized.
 

The instructor came to love to watch Djaisiuk play.  Sometimes he would play a piece that he knew; other times he would write his own music as he played.  At times, he would combine written music with his own in his mind, playing beautiful renditions of ancient works.  He would sit with his eyes closed or half-closed, his face perfectly expressionless, his fingers moving quickly up and down the keys.  Sometimes the music would be slow, sometimes fast; sometimes light, sometimes heavy.  It was as if Djaisiuk was using the music to express the emotions that he wanted to feel but that people thought that he did not understand.  It was his release.
 

Djaisiuk did experience what he would call emotion.  He might be annoyed if he could not solve a problem; he might be tired if he had worked long; he might be satisfied if he had finished a very difficult project.  One emotion that he felt often, though he would never have identified it as such, was loneliness.  He understood it only as a strange, shallow longing that nothing seemed to fill.  The depth of the emotions that he felt was so shallow that a normal person might never have acknowledged their existence, but it was all that Djaisiuk knew.  And it was this that he expressed in his music.
 

On the day that Djaisiuk had received his first permanent assignment on board a ship, the day also that he turned seven, the instructor had given Djaisiuk a gift of the piano.  Djaisiuk had been completely taken aback, so much so that it did show (albeit only slightly) in his face.  He looked at the piano for a long moment, then stepped forward and took hold of the instructor’s hand.  He was silent for a moment, not looking up, then he swallowed and said, “Thank you.”  That was all.  But that was more than even the instructor had expected.
 

Djaisiuk used his piano (his “instrument” as he always called it) often on the ship.  When working on a difficult assignment, he would play, working the problem out in his mind.  When tired, he would relieve whatever stress he might be feeling by playing.  When lonely, which was often, he would play his instrument rather than seek the company of the other boys, for even as he grew into his teenage years, he still did not relate well to people.  His voice grew hoarse and his vocal cords stiff from lack of use, such that when he did speak, it caused him real, physical pain.  But the less he spoke, the more he played.

Djaisiuk stood now, eyes closed, with his hand resting lightly against the wall that concealed his beloved instrument.  He knew that he probably had very little time left before the ship would arrive at its destination.  They would then all be taken from these familiar surroundings and placed in a strange new environment.  And he could not bring his instrument with him.  He could not guess how long they would be here, away from their homeland.  He wondered how long he would be able to work in this new place without his instrument.  He had come to depend on it so greatly over the last ten years that he found it difficult to imagine working without it.  And if they did eventually return to their own planet, the likelihood of his instrument returning with him was almost none.
 

At last, Djaisiuk opened his eyes and looked around the room a final time.  There was much yet that could (and should) be done, but he knew that time was running short.  He could feel that the ship was beginning to land, and he had to be out of his own room and back into the engine room before the Vukasovians turned on the lights or boarded the ship.  He looked carefully over the counters to ensure that he had missed nothing of vital import.  The last thing that he did was to pick up his own tiny Bible and slip it into an inner pocket of his shirt.  He then turned off the lights and walked out of the room.
 

The door closed.  No one who did not know of the room’s existence would have guessed that a door was there.  When it was closed, the door appeared to be simply a wall.  There were no markings whatsoever to indicate where an opening might be.
 

Djaisiuk sealed the room well behind him.  At any time, once the door was closed, none but Djaisiuk could open it.  Though it could not be forced open, it might be cut through.  Consequently, there were extra precautions and added protection that could be engaged to better secure the room.  These were engaged only in greatest need.  That is to say, they had never before been used.  However, Djaisiuk now employed them.  Should anyone attempt to manually cut through the door or walls, the inner room would begin to incinerate itself.  The person or persons outside the room would be informed of what was happening within and warned (by the ship’s communication system) to stop lest all inside be destroyed.  Sure as he was that the Vukasovians would eventually find some way to get into his room, Djaisiuk had no intention of making it any less difficult for them than he was able.  This done, Djaisiuk returned to the other boys.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 1 - The Abduction

Every story has a beginning. Some are simply more pleasant than others.
-- Anonymous

The ship was pulled off-course. This was first made apparent by the fact that it dropped out of light-travel. Jaeger, the nineteen-year-old pilot, then realized that the controls were not responding to his commands. The ship was moving, but not by his command; it was simply moving.

"Jaeger, is everything alright?" came the voice of the young mechanic over the intercom.

"I don't know what happened, Creole," Jaeger answered on an open frequency so that all twelve members of the crew (excepting only Djaisiuk, the inventor, who had no access to the intercom in his workroom) could hear. "We've been pulled off of our course. I've lost control of the ship. Engine status?"

"The engines are still running as normal," Creole replied immediately. "They've obviously dropped from the level of output required for light-travel, but they're running fine. I'm coming to the control room."

"Jaeger, did I hear you correctly? Did you just say that you lost control of the ship?" came the voice of Wysire, the ship's fourteen-year-old counselor.

Jaeger tried his controls again and frowned. "Yes," he said. "I've lost control of the ship."

There was silence over the intercom. Jaeger could imagine the faces of the other ten boys as this news sunk in.

As a thought struck him, Jaeger spoke into the intercom again. "Sandy, would you fetch Djaisiuk?"

"Yes, Jaeger," came Sandy's voice.

"Jaeger?" came the voice of Eriane, the ship's doctor. "Should we be concerned?"

"I don't know yet," replied Jaeger. "I hope that Djaisiuk will be able to answer that."

Jaeger turned to Jade, the navigator. "I hope that this is just an unintended result of something that he's doing," he said. "But in case it isn't, can you find out if there's anything out there?"

Jade shook his head. "I'm trying, but my controls are gone too. I can't see where we are, let alone anything that might be near us."

"Something is still controlling the ship," Jaeger said. "We haven't stopped; we've just been pulled off-course. I can only hope that it's someone or something within the ship that is doing this."

Creole entered the control room, followed almost immediately by the ship's engineer and the ship's electrician, Leil and Detrin respectively. Cycil, one of the two runners, came in shortly afterwards.

"You don't know what's causing this?" Creole asked.

"No, but I hope that it's Djaisiuk," said Jaeger. "He could do it, easily enough. Sandy's gone to fetch him."

"Djaisiuk doesn't have access to the controls of the ship," said Detrin. "Really, he doesn't have access to anything when he's in his workroom except what's in there already."

"Djaisiuk can do anything," said Leil quietly. "He doesn't need access."

Djaisiuk, though only seventeen, had established himself many years ago as the single most intelligent student by far that the IC School—the Komislavian school for young geniuses—had ever had. His work on the ship was research and invention, and it was such that most of the other boys rarely knew what he was doing. His workroom was completely sealed off from the rest of the ship with physical access through only one door. The power for his room was produced within it, and there was no means of communication between Djaisiuk's room and the rest of the ship, save only a portable transmitter, kept in case of emergency, which could send a signal out and which Djaisiuk never used. Djaisiuk had at least some training in every function of the ship and could easily step into the position of any of the other boys (excepting Wysire, the ship's counselor) and perform the assigned duties as well as or better than any of the other boys.
To interrupt Djaisiuk in his work, other than to call him for meals, was allowed only in the case of an emergency. Even to call Djaisiuk from his workroom was not easy. First, one must know where the door was located (for it looked just like a wall from the outside). All of the boys on the ship knew where it was, but none had ever passed through it. If someone wanted Djaisiuk, he would stand outside the door to Djaisiuk's workroom and press one hand to a specific blank panel to the right of the door. If this panel recognized Djaisiuk's fingerprints on the hand pressed to it, a second panel would then slide open to allow him to enter the codes which could then open the door. If any other hand was pressed to it, the second panel would not open, but it would cause a light within the room itself to turn on, alerting Djaisiuk to the fact that his presence was desired. If he chose to respond, Djaisiuk would then come to the door himself and exit his workroom. None ever entered that room save Djaisiuk, and few, save Djaisiuk's supervisors, ever knew fully what research went on in there.

Sandy had had to call Djaisiuk from his workroom before now, but these times had been rare and had never been for anything other than a meal. Meals on the ship were served regularly, and all of the boys ate together. Djaisiuk seldom lost track of time when doing his research, but when he did, Sandy was generally the one chosen to summon him. Today, it was still several hours before the next meal time when Sandy pressed his small hand to the panel, so he was a bit nervous when the door opened.

"Jaeger wants to see you, Djaisiuk," said the eight year old runner. "Something's wrong with the controls, and he was hoping that you'd be able to help find out what."

Djaisiuk did not answer, but followed Sandy silently through the short halls to the control room. As the two entered, all eyes went to Djaisiuk expectantly.

"Djaisiuk, I've lost control of the ship," said Jaeger. "Jade's controls are not responding either. We were hoping that this was only the result of some test that you might be running. I know that I can't ask what you're doing, but… I suppose that my question is this: should we be concerned? That is to say, could this just be from something that you're doing?"

Djaisiuk glanced at Jaeger momentarily, then looked away again. "No," he said in a low voice, hoarse from lack of use.

"Then we have to assume that it is an outside force," said Jaeger, turning back to his controls. "The ship is still functioning. There must be someone or something out there overriding our controls." He pointed to a screen showing their progress. "We're still moving, but it almost looks like we're being led."

"Creole, could you override the engine controls?" asked Jade.

Creole shook his head slowly. "No," he said. "This room controls the engines. The only thing that I could do would be to shut down the engines completely. Christopher is still up there, Jaeger. I could easily have him shut them down."

"No, that would do us no good," Jaeger said. "They could not control it, whoever they are, but neither could we do anything to remove ourselves beyond their reach. Detrin, can you try to find out from where they're drawing power and just cut off access to that part?"

"I can try," replied Detrin, and he turned to leave.

"Cycil, you should probably go with him," said Jade.

Cycil complied and followed Detrin out of the room as Eriane and Faquire, the ship's physician and the ship's nutritionist, entered. Wysire, the ship's counselor, entered soon afterwards.

"What's happening?" asked Eriane.

"I wish I knew," said Jaeger. "It appears that something outside has taken the controls. Detrin is trying to determine from where they're drawing power. For now, we're just waiting."

The crew of the Kian was the best that the IC School had to offer. They were a crew of boys, really, ranging in age from the nineteen-year-old pilot, Jaeger, to the eight- and nine-year-old errand runners, Sandy and Cycil. Though some of the boys were below average for the IC School (Leil, the eighteen-year-old engineer, being a prime example), the genius of some few members (Djaisiuk and Creole being the most obvious) was more than enough to push the average intelligence level of the crew above the average of the IC School as a whole. These boys were also very experienced in their various positions: Jade, the almost nineteen year old navigator, had been working in his position for almost eleven years. Djaisiuk, whose position was nearly impossible to describe and was therefore labeled simply "inventor", had been a student of the IC School for longer than had Jade, but had not been working in his position for quite as long. Eriane, the ship's physician, a boy of fifteen, was the newest member of the crew (excepting, of course, the runners who were changed every two to four years), having been a member of that particular group for only four years. Even the youngest permanent member, Detrin, the thirteen-year-old electrician, had been with the group for five years.

This group contained both the most intelligent and the most experienced members that the IC School could boast. In all of their experience, however, nothing like the current incident had ever occurred: something had taken control of the ship and was now directing it they knew not where.

"Can you tell where we're headed, Jade?" Faquire asked.

Jade shook his head. "My controls are not responding either, so I can't tell where we are. Judging by how long we've been traveling, I'd think that we should be somewhere near the Klorian system, but that's really only a guess. If we had a way of seeing the outside, I'd be able to tell by the stars."

"If we had a way of seeing outside, we'd know what was out there," said Jaeger.

"Then it's fairly certain that there is something else controlling the ship?" asked Wysire.

"Well, we know that it's not being controlled from within, and we know that it is being controlled," said Jaeger. "It is only logical, therefore, to assume that it is someone from without. Detrin is trying to reroute the power from wherever they're drawing it, but we don't know if that will work. If it does, hopefully we'll have time to learn more about whatever it is that we're up against."

Detrin's voice came over the intercom.

"I've found it," he said. "I'm shutting off power to them now."

Sure enough, control was suddenly back in the hands of the pilot. Jaeger quickly began entering sequences of commands to move the ship while Jaeger attempted to identify the position, make, and planet of origin of their unknown assailant. This latter task was the work of a few seconds, but even it was not quite accomplished before control was again wrested from their hands.

Jaeger sighed, annoyed, and spoke into the com: "Detrin, they've taken it again."

"I'll get back to work," came Detrin's reply.

"They're on our port side, a little in front," said Jade. "I can't tell yet who they are."

"Can we send a message asking who they are and why they're doing this?" asked Sandy.

"No," Jaeger shook his head. "They have control of our external communications. We can't send a message anywhere."

"They don't want us to be able to send a message home," said Creole. "They want us to disappear without a trace."

"Creole, that's so morbid!" exclaimed Eriane. "Surely we can't know that their intent is evil."

"Why else would they be doing this?" asked Creole. "Why wouldn't they have let us know who they are? They've made no attempt to communicate with us."

"Creole," said Wysire softly. "You're frightening Sandy."

"I'm alright!" exclaimed Sandy, the youngest. His tone was brave, but his expression contradicted his words. "I'm not worried. I know that Jaeger can handle it."

Jaeger smiled grimly at this, wishing that he felt as confident as Sandy claimed to be.

"You have it, Jaeger," Detrin's voice came again.

Jaeger was ready and moved fast, but it was not fast enough. He caused the ship to lurch starboard, hoping to get away from the other ship, but the other ship was quicker. In a moment, Jaeger was again powerless.

"No!" cried Jaeger in frustration. "Detrin, they've got it again. Can you find a pattern in how they're drawing power?"

"I'll try," said Detrin.

Jaeger ran a hand over his eyes and took a deep breath. He turned to look at Djaisiuk.

"Any suggestions?" He asked, not really expecting an answer.

Djaisiuk spoke rarely, and then only in response to direct questions. Now he simply glanced up at Jaeger in acknowledgment of the question but looked away again as if in thought. He did not answer.

"They're Vukasovian," Jade said quietly.

All eyes turned to him immediately. More than Sandy's now held fear.

"Vukasovian?" repeated Jaeger quietly.

Jaeger nodded. "I was able to identify it this last time," he said. "There's no doubt; it's a Vukasovian vessel." He leaned back and sighed, sounding defeated. "We're not getting out of this one."

"Jade, that attitude is unacceptable," said Jaeger firmly. "We will get out of this alive." Besides being the pilot, Jaeger was the eldest of the boys. As such, he felt it his responsibility to keep up the spirits of the other boys, as much as possible.

"Get ready, Jaeger," Detrin's voice came again. "I may have found the pattern. We're about to find—"

Detrin's voice cut off suddenly and there was a cry of pain. Eriane leapt up immediately and rushed out of the room, calling for Sandy to fetch his medical box.

"Eriane!" Cycil voice came over the intercom. "Eriane, come quick!"

"He's on his way," said Jaeger. "What happened?"

"There was a power surge in this section," Detrin's strained voice, laced with pain, answered. "They must have realized what I was doing and traced where I was working."

"Hold on," said Jade. "Eriane on the way."

"Djaisiuk," Jaeger said, turning to him. "Our only other alternative, as I see it, is to shut off the ship's engines. It won't get us away, but they won't be able to take us either. It's a desperate move, I know; we'd have to sit and hope that they get tired and leave before our life-support ran out, but it may be our only hope. Do you know of any other options before we try that?"

Without a word, Djaisiuk stepped up to the controls. Jaeger moved back to give him room. Djaisiuk's hands flew over the controls, moving faster than most eyes would have been able to follow and entering many sequences of commands, some working, others not. Suddenly, the ship was moving. It was very sudden and very quick. The ship was flying straight onward along their intended course, but at a much quicker speed than was generally wise for pre-light prep. Djaisiuk's face showed only concentration as he continued to work, his pace never slackening.

Jade, at his own console, found that his controls worked again. He could see that the other ship was following. He saw then that Djaisiuk was sending a message. It was not to the pursuing ship, but to their own home planet. Djaisiuk continued to work, changing the controls almost constantly to keep the Vukasovians from again gaining control, but preparing the message at the same time. Once done, the message began to send.

"Taken by Vukasovian ship. Unknown dest—"

This was as much as could be sent. No signature; no way to identify the sender. So much and no more was sent when the ship suddenly lurched, feeling as if it would explode. They had been hit. The other ship had fired on them. This was an act unthinkable. It was a declaration of war. It simply wasn't done. And yet it had happened.

Djaisiuk and several of the others were thrown to the floor by the force. Djaisiuk was on his feet again almost immediately (faster than any of the other boys had ever seen him move), but by then it was too late. The Vukasovians had again gained control of the ship, and this time they did not wait for anyone to take it back. All of the interior lighting in the ship went dark. The screens and controls died.

"Christopher!" Creole cried into the intercom. "Shut off the engines! Shut them down now!"

There was no answer. The intercom was dead, they realized. And probably every other nonessential function was gone. The boys were fully helpless. There was no longer anything that they could do.

Suddenly, the view screen at the front of the control panel lit up, words appearing in green across it.

"Do not attempt to resist. You are soon to be acclimated into a race much stronger than your own. It's success will be your success. Prepare yourselves. You will soon be home."

The boy's sat or stood in stunned silence for a short time, staring at the screen. The silence was only broken when, about a minute later, Christopher's voice was heard in the passageways.

"Hello?" he called. "Where is everyone and what's happening?"

"We're in the control room," Creole called back. "We're being abducted by Vukasovians."

Christopher's cautious footsteps were soon heard entering the control room. "Please tell me that you're not serious."

"He is," said Jaeger. "It was a Vukasovian ship that attacked us, and now they have full control over us. We can only assume that they're the ones who've sent this message to us."

"Is everyone in here?" Christopher asked as soon as he had finished reading the short message. "No one hurt?"

"Eriane, Detrin, and Cycil are somewhere out there," Sandy said.

"We're coming," Cycil's voice came to them. Soon after, he entered the room himself. "Eriane was still working on Detrin when the lights went dead. He sent me back here when we realized that the intercom wasn't working. They'll be along shortly. None of us were hurt when the ship jolted."

"I can't believe that they would shoot at us," Jade exclaimed. "That's an act of war!"

"Well what do you call kidnapping?" asked Creole.

"They've wanted to go to war with the Komislavian race since long before any of us were born," said Faquire. "They just haven't had a reason that would stand up to the rest of the world."

"Do they now?" asked Jade. "Has anything changed? We've done nothing. They've received no provocation. They have no right to do this."

"Maybe that's why they've taken control of the ship," Leil suggested quietly. "Maybe they mean to drag us into their space and claim that we were trespassing."

Jaeger shook his head, though only his silhouette could be seen against the green light of the screen. "We're an observational ship from the Komislavian IC School," he said. "We're only students, not soldiers. Even if we did trespass, they'd have no right to fire on us. They could capture us, perhaps, if we were in their space but not fire on us. We have no weapons; there'd have been no need for them even to defend themselves against us."

Movement was again heard near the door. Eriane and Detrin had apparently arrived.

"Eriane, Detrin, is that you?" Jade asked.

"Yes, it's us," Eriane replied. "Is everyone all right here?"

"We are all fine, I believe," Jaeger answered. "Are you all right, Detrin?"

"I'll be fine," Detrin answered. "My hands were burned, but they'll heal. I just may not be able to do much for a day or two."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Eriane asked, reading the screen.

"They're Vukasovians," Jade said.

"No!" Detrin cried. "Please say it isn't so!"

"It is," Jaeger said. "Unless the Udolians have taken a Vukasovian ship."

"Oh, if only that were the case!" Faquire exclaimed. "That would be a thousand times better."

"What?" asked Cycil. "You'd like to be captured by the Udolians?"

"Rather than the Vukasovians, yes."

At that moment, the screen died, and the room was again plunged into absolute darkness. For a moment, no one spoke.

"Is everyone here?" Eriane asked, breaking the short silence. "And you're sure that no one is hurt?"

"Yes, we're all here now," Jaeger answered. "And no, I don't think that anyone is hurt. Would everyone care to verify that?"

Murmurs of assent were heard from most of the boys, assuring Eriane that they were unharmed.

"Creole, could you and Christopher still turn off the engines?" Leil asked quietly.

"What good would that do?" asked Cycil.

"At least then they wouldn't be able to control our ship," said Detrin. "It might buy us some time, at any rate."

"It might, but I wouldn't dare to take the chance now," said Creole. "Without being able to see what we were doing, we could do something wrong. We might cut off our life-support."

"There must be something that we can do!" Sandy cried, starting to sound hysterical.

There was movement again, and none doubted that it was Wysire this time, moving to stand next to Sandy. This was verified when a short exclamation and apology indicated that he had apparently tripped over Cycil on the way.

"There is one thing that we can do," said Wysire. "We can pray."



Unlike many of the other races inhabiting the various planets in the explored universe, the Komislavian race had originated from a large group of Christians who had left Earth seeking a better and safer planet on which to raise their children. Komislava had then recently been discovered and proved perfect for them, having had no colonies yet established there. It was extremely fertile and had only one ocean. This allowed access to all inhabitable parts of the planet without the necessity of ships (either for air or water). There were very few native animals and even fewer native plants. Many other inhabitable planets were being discovered at that time, so the original group was given no trouble about taking control of that particular planet, especially considering its distance from most of the other inhabited planets at that time. It was considered a "back-water" planet, desirable in and of itself, but too far away from most of the other planets to allow for any significantly profitable exports of agricultural items and not having sufficient stores of ought else but arable land to make it desirable. For the group mentioned, it was perfect.

The new inhabitants multiplied quickly and soon settled over a large portion of the planet. Though the population continued to grow with each new generation, the planet was large enough that there would be no fear of crowding for many, many centuries to come. While most of the inhabitants were farmers and a very few were hunters, there were some who wished to continue to explore the universe and to learn. These were the founders of Scavia, the single city on the planet. These were also the one to establish the IC School, a school wherein boys of very high intelligence were accepted as students and taught trades useful to the continuing goal of exploring the universe and making new discoveries. A boy would be accepted at the school only if his intelligence level (his iT level, as it was universally called) was at least 65, or if his intelligence was such that it seemed likely or definite that he could learn enough to raise his iT level to 65 within four years of instruction. The universal average was 50, and 65 marked the 95th percentile and qualified one as a genius. Levels of 75 and above were considered super-geniuses; these composed between 0.05% and 0.1% of the population of Komislava. To advance far in the IC School, a boy was expected to achieve and maintain an iT level of 75 or above. Consequently, though the school never lacked students or applicants, the school also never had more than a dozen or so active groups at a time.

These boys would be trained in one of several different fields. Navigation, medicine, engineering, nutrition, mechanics, and even psychology were options among which the boys could choose. Once trained, or even occasionally while training, a boy would be assigned to a group that would travel on missions of exploration, observation, or experimentation, as the case may be. These groups would have a core of ten trained boys and an addition of two runners, the latter being younger members of the school who were still in training and were assigned to the group as general helpers. These would run errands (hence the title "runners") and train under the other boys. I say boys, because boys they were. A boy could be accepted as a student as early as six years of age. He would be allowed to go on missions as early as eight, provided he showed a sufficiently high iT level. When a boy completed his nineteenth year of age, he was no longer allowed to continue as a student. Some left the school before reaching this age; others remained. The latter, if they did not wish to return to farm life, were permitted either to join the staff of the IC School or to settle within the city and work there. Most chose to continue to work for the IC School, either as instructors for researchers; they were, however, no longer allowed to go on missions.

It was on just such a mission that the group just introduced was engaged. They were an elite group, possessing, as was mentioned earlier, a higher average iT level than most groups, due in great part to the fact that they had as a member of their team the single most intelligent student of the school: Djaisiuk, the first and only exception to the rules concerning both age of entry and age of assignment. This group was now on an exploratory mission to bring back soil samples from a small planet, recently discovered, in a neighboring solar system. The samples had been obtained, tests run, many minor discoveries made in the area, and the boys were now returning home to Komislava.

This unheard-of abduction was staggering. All Komislavians knew that the Vukasovians, a cruel and heartless race, second nearest neighbors of Komislava in the direction of the inhabited universe, hated the Komislavians intensely. The Vukasovians considered the planet of Komislava to be too near to their own planet to exist without bending the knee in submission to Vukosava. The Komislavians, on the other hand, were a good-natured, noncombatant race. They had no weapons of warfare and no interest in researching or obtaining any. They had no thoughts of conquest and little or no fear for the safety of their own planet. It was a universal offense to invade an inhabited planet without just cause, and the Confederation of Planets would step into any fracas of that sort and put down the offending party ruthlessly. This had been sufficient to ensure the safety of the Komislavians over time. The Confederation was strong and showed no signs of weakening, so Komislava continued in peace. Until now, it seemed.



After they had committed their plight to God, the boys sat and waited silently in the darkness. Cycil, the second youngest, was the first to speak.

"What do you think that they plan to do to us?" he asked fearfully.

"Well, it seems that they want us to serve them," Jaeger answered. "They said that we're to be 'acclimated into a race much stronger than our own.' I assume that that means that they want us to join them and to work for them."

"Who do they think they are?" asked Faquire in disgust.

"They're Vukasovians," replied Jade. "They think that they own the world."

"Well, they don't own us!" snorted Creole.

"They do now," murmured Eriane.

"They can't honestly think that we would serve them," said Faquire.

"Apparently they do," answered Jaeger, "else they wouldn't go to all this trouble and risk to capture us."

"What are we going to do?" asked Sandy, still obviously frightened.

No one answered at first. Finally Jaeger spoke.

"We'll do what they say. For now."

"What?!" exclaimed Creole and Faquire together.

"They're Vukasovians," began Jaeger. "You've heard the stories of them. There's no telling what they may do to us if we disobey. For them to simply kill us outright would be merciful, in their eyes. Indeed, our only hope of staying alive (and in one piece) and of staying together is to do what they say. For now. Maybe we'll be able to escape later. If not, at least we may be together. And remember, we still can't even be sure of what they want."

"I can't serve them!" said Creole. "I won't serve them. I cannot assist the sworn enemies of my people to hurt my friends and family or anyone else, and frankly I'm shocked then you would even consider it."

"Creole, I'm sure that they're not going to ask you to lead an assault on Komislava," said Jade.

"No, but they may ask me to help to design ships which will be later used for that purpose," Creole replied. "I'll not contribute my knowledge or abilities to them, knowing that they'll only use them for evil."

"You don't know that they'll use them for evil," said Wysire.

"Wysire, you're an exception," said Christopher. "They couldn't very well use your abilities for evil. Not all of us are so blessed in our fields. Creole and I designed and run engines, and these could very easily be pulled into warships."

"They can't misuse mine either," said Eriane. "I work to heal people and to discover new cures. I certainly don't like the Vukasovians, but at least I'd only be working to help people if I did work for them."

"Creole, I wouldn't fight against my own people either," said Jaeger, "but I'm sure that they know that. They know that about all of us. It's very likely that they'll want us to do research or the like: something that suits our abilities, but I sincerely doubt that they'll have you or any of us try to make something that they intend to use for war. How would they know that we wouldn't sabotage it? Whatever they want us to do, it'll probably be little different from what we do now."

"But it will be for our enemies," Creole persisted. "I will not obey them."

"As Wysire said, we can't know that they'll want us to do evil," said Jaeger. "We may be fully able to serve them without doing any wrong. Remember that Joseph served the Egyptians when he was in captivity there. Would you say that he was wrong to do so?"

"He was also thrown into prison," Creole retorted, "because he refused to go against God's commands."

"Where he continued to serve the Egyptians," continued Jaeger, "by working in the prison. He was never considered rebellious."

"He was one person," said Christopher. "And it isn't as though the Egyptians were the enemies of his people yet."

"That's true," commented Leil quietly.

"What of Mordecai?" asked Detrin softly. "He served the Persian king and even saved his life. And the Persians did hate the Israelites, so much so that many of them wanted to destroy their race, not merely subjugate them."

"And Daniel," added Jaeger. "He and his friends were captured when they were still young men, and yet they served so well that they were put into positions of command."

"So you're saying that it would be right to serve them and wrong to refuse?" asked Creole doubtfully after a moment.

"I do not think that it would be wrong to serve them," said Jaeger. "My intent is not to sound fatalistic, but I do think that this will be the best course for the present time. Circumstances may change my mind in time, but this is what I feel is best for now. If we can escape, I think that we should do so, and, to that end, I think that we should stay together. If we refuse to serve them, it is very likely that we'll be separated and possibly killed."

Creole was quiet for a moment, then sighed. "I can't serve them in good conscience," he said at last. "I think that everyone will have to make their own decision; as for me, I will not serve them."

There was silence for a moment.

"Creole, please," said Jade, "let's not be split up."

"Jade, I can't willingly serve them either," said Christopher.

"I could serve them," said Faquire, "but I wouldn't want to do so."

Everyone was quiet again.

"I'll go with you, Jaeger," said Jade. "Whatever you decide."

"So will I," said Sandy.

"And I," said Cycil.

Jaeger was quiet. He wanted to do what was best for the group, but more than that, he wanted to make the right decision, particularly if most of the group was looking to him to leave.

"I'll follow Djaisiuk," said Leil suddenly.

Everyone was then silent again in a sort of anticipation. Most of them had forgotten that Djaisiuk was still in the room. They all wanted to hear his decision, knowing that it would doubtless be the best way. Djaisiuk would never do anything without a very good reason. Thus far, Djaisiuk had not participated in the discussion at all. He had remained silent, probably deep in thought. Even now he said nothing.

"Djaisiuk?" asked Creole at last. "What will you do?"

"Don't follow me," came Djaisiuk's voice at last. This was a lot for him to say all at once. He quite loathed any requirement to speak more than two syllables together or even more than one word at a time.

"But what do you plan to do?" pressed Jade. "Will you go with them or refuse?"

Djaisiuk did not answer.

"Djaisiuk, please!" pleaded Creole. "I know that you don't like to speak and that we're not supposed to question you, but this is truly a matter of life and death. You can offer us the best advice. You've heard our arguments; what would you say to do? Please tell us!"
For a moment there was silence as though Djaisiuk were ignoring Creole's plea. Then there was the sound of movement as Djaisiuk apparently began to move slowly and carefully towards the door.

"Where are you going?" asked Jaeger.

Djaisiuk did not answer, but they could hear his footsteps walking down the halls in the direction of his workroom. None doubted that that was his intended destination. There was silence in the engine room until the sound of Djaisiuk's footsteps died away.

Jaeger sighed. "I don't think that he is going to offer us any advice," he said. "I think that Creole is right in this, at least: everyone must do what he thinks right or best, even if it means that we go separate ways. Really, even if we all agree to serve them, there is no guarantee that we will see one another again once we leave here. We can only hope and pray."

"I will not serve them," said Creole quietly. "Do what they may to me, I will not serve them."

"I will follow you, Creole," said Christopher.

"As will I, if you choose to defy them," said Faquire. "I will not willingly serve them either."

"Faquire, your abilities couldn't very well be misused either," said Eriane. "You're a nutritionist."

"I can't claim any great knowledge of the Vukasovians on a personal level," replied Faquire, "but I know enough to be sure of this, at least: if an ability of any kind can be misused, they'll find a way to do it. Mark my words, they'll find an evil use even for you and Wysire, if you serve them."

"I will still follow Jaeger," said Sandy.

"As will I," said Detrin. "I am not ashamed to admit that I am frightened."

Jaeger was quiet for a moment before replying. "I will obey them," he said. "I am also frightened of them, and not only for myself. If you younger ones wish to follow me, then I cannot in good conscience lead you into such a terrible position possibly needlessly."

For a time they all sat silently again. After a short time, the ship slowed somewhat and the familiar feeling came that told them that they were passing through the atmosphere of a planet.

"We must be almost there," said Jaeger. "Another ten minutes, more or less; twenty at most."

"Oughtn't we to pack our things then?" asked Detrin. "Just in case they don't give us time once we land?"

"You may, if you can in the dark," said Jaeger. "I have nothing that I plan to bring."

"I have my maps," said Jade, "but I'm sure that they have better."

"Whether their instruments are better than mine or not," said Eriane, "I'll not contribute to them by offering them anything of my own."

"Yes," agreed Wysire. "I suppose that Djaisiuk is the only one with unique and irreplaceable instruments."

"Is that what he is doing, do you suppose?" asked Jade. "Packing? Why?!"

"I doubt that that's what he's doing," said Jaeger. "I don't think that he would let the Vukasovians have or use or even observe any of his instruments. And remember that we still don't even know whether he plans to serve them or to refuse."

"Maybe he plans to hide," suggested Cycil.

"That's a distinct possibility," agreed Christopher. "If you didn't know that his room was there, then you'd never find it."

"He wouldn't last long without food or water," Faquire put in. Being the one responsible for the nutritional well-being of the boys, food and drink were generally uppermost in Faquire's mind. "No, I can't imagine that he plans to stay in there."

"I'd like to bring my violin," said Cycil softly, "but I couldn't bear it if they took it away from me. I wonder whether it would be better to just leave it here. Do you suppose that they have violins on Vukosava?"

"I'm sure that they have musical instruments of some kind," said Jade rising. "But I couldn't say what. You're right though; that's something that would be nice to bring."

Sandy jumped up suddenly. "My Bible!" he exclaimed. "I'll want that!"

"Yes, indeed!" agreed Wysire, rising also. "That's certainly something that wouldn't easily be replaced here. I doubt that there's a single Bible on the whole planet of Vukosava."

"Do you think that they'll let us bring those?" asked Jade skeptically.

"I don't know," said Jaeger, standing also, "but it's certainly worth a try. As Wysire said, I doubt that that's something that they'll have readily available. Yes, that's definitely something worth bringing."

The boys all got up, even the three who said that they would not serve the Vukasovians, and carefully felt their way to their respective rooms, returning shortly thereafter. Cycil had brought his small violin, and a few of the other boys who played small instruments brought them as well. Jade was the last one to return, explaining that he had misplaced his Bible and couldn't find it quickly in the dark. Normally, someone would have offered a friendly joke at this, but no one did so. The solemnity of the occasion weighed too heavily on all of them.

"I sincerely doubt that they'll let us keep our Bibles," said Faquire, referring to himself, Creole, and Christopher, "but, as Jaeger said, it's worth a try."

"I'll keep mine hidden as long as I can," said Christopher. "It's small enough that they might not notice it. It's almost like the Christians who face persecution: they have to hide their Bibles."

"I think that it would be easier if that was the reason that we were being captured," commented Creole. A thought then seemed to strike him. "If they take away your Bibles, will the rest of you join us then?"

"They can't take away all of mine," murmured Detrin. Detrin had an exceptional memory, even for a genius, and had put much of the Bible to memory. Already, at the age of thirteen, he could recite whole books at a time easily.

"Yes," smiled Creole, "excepting Detrin. Would the rest of you continue to serve them if they wouldn't let you have your Bibles?"

The other boys considered.

"I don't know," said Jaeger. "I suppose that I'd have to make that choice when I came to it."