THE TWELVE -- Chapter 12 - Trials

Eriane had not joined the others at dinner that night because his mind had been consumed with other matters.  The afternoon of the fourth day had seen a very unpleasant scene in the medical ward.  The day before, Eriane had been given an assignment different from the one on which he had been working.  He was instructed to review and correct, if necessary, a piece of research done by a Vukasovian regarding the anatomy of the Komislavian foot and ankle.  Eriane was a little puzzled at this, but he did the work without question.  It had not taken long to review; the research was very well done and fairly accurate.  Only a few corrections had had to be made.  The afternoon of the fourth day saw this work tested in a more practical way.
 

Eriane stood in a small alcove with glass windows, looking down on a room that was obviously a medical room of sorts.  Drayl, Eriane’s supervisor, stood at his side, arms crossed, watching the room below.  In the middle of the room was a medical table or bed.  It had straps attached to it, obviously meant for fastening a person to it.  A small square device stood at the foot of the bed, where the right foot of the person in the bed would naturally rest.  At the head of the bed, a large monitor stood.  Eriane recognized this as medical observation instrument; it would measure responses in a person’s brain to various stimuli applied, mental or physical.  Two wires hung down, waiting to be attached to the person to be tested.  There were other, smaller medical devices of varying sorts scattered on counters around the room, and two medics moved to and fro in apparent preparation.
 

“May I ask what it is that we are going to be observing?” asked Eriane.
 

“We are going to see how accurate the research is which you reviewed yesterday,” answered Drayl.  “I trust the work, especially now that that you have reviewed it, but it is always safest to test the accuracy of any research before putting it into serious use.”  This was said in such a tone of voice that Eriane could not be sure of whether Drayl was being sarcastic or not.
 

There was movement in the room below as the door at the head of the room opened to admit two guards and a young man.
 

“Ah, here is our test subject,” said Drayl.
 

Eriane gasped suddenly as he recognized Faquire.  He was dressed in the plain white clothes of a prisoner: a short-sleeved, loose-fitting shirt, long trousers, and no shoes.  He was led into the room by two guards who seemed to be ready for trouble.  Faquire’s face was set and defiant, his posture erect, and his head high.
The two men guarding him took Faquire to the medical table and strapped him to it.  Faquire had seemed docile enough at first, but when the time came to strap down his left leg, he raised a foot and kicked one of the guards in the face.  This produced an oath and the guard nearly struck Faquire, but one of the medics restrained him.  The guard finished grudgingly, and the medic inclined the back of the table upward so that Faquire was in a half-sitting half-lying position.  One medic attached the two wires to Faquire’s right and left temples while the other medic began to strap Faquire’s right foot into the strange device at the foot of the bed.  Faquire snatched his foot away at one point and kicked the medic hard.  The guard who had been struck earlier laughed now and said something to the medic who had restrained him.  It looked for a moment as though there would be trouble, but the other guard calmly stepped forward, took Faquire’s foot in a strong grip, and finished strapping it into the device.
 

This device was not familiar to Eriane.  He stared hard at it, trying to determine its purpose.  It was small, consisting of a base onto which the foot was secured and two thick sides, about three inches from the foot on either side, which began above the ankle and continued to below the toes.  Try as he might, Eriane could not determine its purpose.
 

When all was in readiness, one of the medics stepped over to what was apparently a set of controls beside the bed, then turned to look up at the windows which shielded Drayl and Eriane from their view.  Eriane knew that the windows were such that vision could go only one way: those in the room could not see those outside the room.  Even so, the medic obviously knew that Drayl was there, and he now awaited a signal from him.  Drayl looked over the room carefully, then pressed a button on the control pad at his right hand.  A light was lit on the control panel within the room, and the medic began the procedure.
 

There was a tiny flash of movement in the square device, and Faquire started and clenched his fists in pain.  Eriane then saw what had happened.  A needle had shot out from one side of the device and stuck deep into the right side of Faquire’s ankle.  It was still connected by a tiny arm to the white wall on that side which could apparently determine exactly how far into the foot the needle could go.  Eriane gasped, but before he could react in any other way, another and yet another needle was thrust out and into the exposed foot.  Faquire winced with each puncture, but refused to cry out.  The monitor showed the pain that he was feeling, and, though not unbearable, it was considerable.
 

“Stop!” cried Eriane.  “What are you doing?  You need not experiment on him.  If you doubt my work, experiment on me!  Please don’t do this to him!”
 

Drayl watched silently as a fourth and fifth needle took their places before replying.
 

“You are not one whom we wish to spare,” he said.  “I trust your work, but this is to be used on one with whom we cannot afford to make a mistake.  It is, therefore, best to test it first on one who has no great lasting value.”
 

Eriane could scarce contain himself as the machine continued.  Once ten needles had been implanted into the right side of the foot, it began again with the left side.  Faquire could no longer hold back the cries of pain, although he stifled them as well as he could, as the machine continued.
 

“Why are you doing this to him?” asked Eriane, struggling to keep his voice steady.  “Please!  I volunteer myself!  Don’t do this to him!”
 

Drayl smiled down at Eriane with something akin to amusement.  “Contain yourself,” he said.  “As I said, you are not one whom we wish to chance with this device.  But don’t worry about your friend; this device is no more than a child’s plaything.  The pain that it inflicts is comparatively minor.  Also, according to your own work, there will be no long-term damage done.  Surely you trust your own research.”
 

“If those are only needles, as they appear, then you would scarcely have needed my work to determine whether or not it would cause long-term damage,” argued Eriane.  “And if it is as simple as you say, then why do you not trust it enough to test it on me rather than on him, if I request it?”
 

Drayl smiled, looking down at Faquire again.  “They are needles, as they appear,” he said.  “But each one releases a very small amount of Scrinerian acid into the foot.  If your review of the research yesterday was accurate, then the internal wounds inflicted will heal in time.  But if there has been a mistake, then the subject could easily lose mobility, sensation, or both in that foot.  As I have said twice now: you are not one whom we wish to spare.”
 

Eriane felt his blood run cold as he looked down at Faquire below.  He did know his work to be accurate, and if that was what they had used in the designing of this device, then there would indeed be no long-term damage done.  But if they had made a mistake . . . .  Eriane closed his eyes, unable to continue to watch, and prayed for God’s protection over Faquire.  He told himself over and over again that he need not worry: that Faquire would be safe.  But even this knowledge did not in any way help to assuage the guilt which he felt in knowing that he himself had helped to design this instrument of torture, now being used on Faquire.
 

At last, the machine stopped.  Eriane opened his eyes.  There were a full ten needles stuck into either side of Faquire’s foot.  Faquire was breathing heavily, his fists still clenched, his face sweaty, but his expression was still defiant.
 

Eriane sighed.  “Is it done?” he asked.
 

“Not yet,” answered Drayl.
 

Slowly the two walls of the device began moving together, forcing all twenty of the needles deeper at the same time.  Faquire cried aloud with the pain and struggled against the bonds holding him.
 

“Stop!” cried Eriane.  “Stop it!”
 

Drayl frowned at him for a moment disapprovingly, then pressed another key on the control panel to his right.
 

“Enough,” he said.  “That is sufficient.”
 

The machine was stopped, and slowly the needles were removed.
 

“You may now attend to your compatriot,” said Drayl to Eriane.  “I will want a full report.  See to it that no lasting damage has been done.  If it has, I want to know immediately.  I will also want to know how long he can be expected to feel pain when using his foot, as well as how long you expect it to be before his foot has fully healed.”
 

Drayl had turned away even while he was yet speaking, and Eriane did not wait to reply.  He rushed down to the back door of the room where Faquire was being brought out.  This second room was a small waiting room of sorts, and the guards who now half-carried Faquire between them deposited him unceremoniously onto a chair as Eriane entered.
 

Seeing Eriane, Faquire leaned forward as if he would stand but was immediately pulled back again by the guards on either side.  He looked ready to attack them again, but they were ready for this and held him firmly.
“Eriane!” exclaimed Faquire joyfully, still struggling a little with the guards but making no progress.
 

Eriane called for one of the medics to bring him the necessary implements to treat Faquire’s wounds, then knelt down in front of Faquire, taking the latter’s foot gently in his hands.  Faquire cringed as Eriane handled his foot, but tried hard to hide it.
 

As he carefully continued his examination, trying hard to be as gentle as possible, Eriane could not keep the tears from starting in his own eyes.
 

“Oh, Faquire, I’m so sorry!” he exclaimed, looking up at Faquire at last.  “Can you ever forgive me?”
 

“I would have chosen no other to treat any wound of mine,” said Faquire, still wincing a little from time to time as Eriane continued to examine his foot.  “But I would not have thought that they would allow it.”
 

Faquire did not know, Eriane realized.  Of course he did not.  Why would he even imagine that Eriane, dedicated master of health and well-being, would have anything to do with the designing of a device whose only purpose was the infliction of maximum pain with minimal damage?
 

Eriane swallowed and continued to work.  Faquire spoke to him eagerly as he worked, though he was obviously trying hard to keep the pain from affecting his voice.  Eriane had to try equally hard to answer the questions without allowing his emotional pain to show through.
 

“How are you?” asked Faquire.  “And how are the others?  Are they well?  And have you seen Creole or Christopher?”
 

“The others are all well,” replied Eriane, avoiding the first question and trying hard to keep his voice steady as he carefully cleaned Faquire’s foot of the blood that had flowed out of the many small punctures.  “We meet together in the evenings, and they are all well.  Until now, we have had no news of you or Creole or Christopher, so I don’t know how they are doing.  We have all been very worried about you three.”
 

“I haven’t been allowed to see Creole or Christopher either, so I don’t know how they are.  Probably no better than myself.  But you are all able to meet together?  Then Jaeger was right in that respect?”
 

“Yes, he was,” said Eriane.  He paused before continuing.  “Though we none of us have seen Djaisiuk.  We don’t know what has happened to him.”  Eriane then began to gently spread a clear gel over the foot that at once sealed the wounds and soothed the pain.
 

Faquire raised his eyebrows.  “Djaisiuk?” he asked with a touch of concern.  “None of you have seen him?  But I thought that he had agreed to work for them as the rest of you did.  You’re not a prisoner; can you not make inquiry?”
 

“Yes, we could, I suppose,” said Eriane, wanting to be careful of what he said regarding the boys’ discussion last night.  The two guards seemed to be taking no notice of their conversation, but Eriane knew that they could hear every word.  “I think that we’ve all just been hoping that we’ll see him eventually.”
 

Having finished the treatment, Eriane picked up a medical scanner and, feeling himself a worse traitor than any he had ever imagined, he began the scan of the foot to see that no long-lasting damage had been done.  He could not keep the pain from showing in his expression as he carefully surveyed the internal damage that had been done.
 

Faquire frowned, not seeming to notice Eriane’s expression.  “You’ve ‘just been hoping’?” he asked sharply.  “Eriane, that doesn’t sound like you at all.  Or even if it did, it certainly doesn’t sound like Jaeger or Wysire.  Surely one of you can ask about him.”
 

“We will,” Eriane quickly assured him.  “We will try to find out about him.  But if he’s working for them as well, then surely he’s alright.”
 

Faquire continued to frown.  “Eriane, what’s wrong with you?” he asked.  “You’re not acting like yourself.  Have they done something to you?”
 

Eriane bit his lip and didn’t answer.  “I’m sure that everything will be alright,” he said at last as he finished the scan.  “It’s just that . . . .”  He trailed off, not knowing what to say.
 

As soon as the guards saw that Eriane had completed his scan, they pulled Faquire to his feet.
 

“Well, doctor?” asked Faquire with a lopsided grin, trying not to wince as he put pressure on his right foot.  “Am I safe to walk?”
 

“I would advise against it, unless you are not walking far,” said Eriane, looking doubtfully at the guards.  “It would be rather painful and may cause the wounds to take longer to heal.”
 

“That is of no consequence,” put in the less sympathetic guard (the one who had been kicked) as he pushed Faquire forward.
 

“It’s not too far for me,” said Faquire reassuringly to Eriane.  “Don’t worry.”
 

The guards pushed Faquire on before them, obviously ready for trouble.  Faquire still walked defiantly, but he could not hide a limp now.  His back was to Eriane as they left the room, but Eriane knew that there must be tears in Faquire’s eyes as he fought with the pain of walking on his injured foot.
 

“Please be gentle with him,” Eriane called to the guards as they left the room.  “He shouldn’t be allowed to walk far.”
 

Faquire looked over his shoulder at Eriane as they continued down the hall at a good pace.  “It was good to see you,” he called.  “Give the others my best!”
 

Eriane stood silently and helplessly, watching until they disappeared around a turn in the hall.  He was furious in the knowledge that it was his research that had been used to accomplish this.  This was what Faquire must have foreseen when he had said that the Vukasovians would surely find a way, if a way was to be found, to misuse even Eriane’s abilities.  What would be next?  What further atrocities might he be forced to commit, Eriane wondered, if he continued to simply “do as he was told”?

* * * * * * *

“There was no lasting damage, sir,” said Eriane coldly, as he gave his report to Drayl.  “If he is given proper treatment, the wounds need not cause discomfort for more than a few days.  Most of them should heal completely within two weeks, provided he is allowed time and peace for them to heal.  Both the tibia and fibula received damage, and these will take longer to heal, but even those should be completely restored within a few weeks.”
 

“Very good,” said Drayl.  He then smiled strangely at Eriane.  “You are distraught, I know, at seeing your friend having to experience this.”
 

“Yes, I am upset, sir,” answered Eriane.  “And I see no reason why I should not be so.”
 

“You are still young,” replied Drayl.  “You have seen little of the real world.  This little device was only a toy; it was nothing about which to be upset.  One day, I will show you a real machine of torture, one of which any Vukasovian would be proud.”
 

“I am not Vukasovian!” snapped Eriane.  “And I have no wish to see any machine of torture.  Nor have I any wish to assist again in the designing of one!”
 

Drayl gave a soft chuckle.  “Your skills there will not be needed for quite some time, I am sure.  We have far more capable people than you for that.  Your assistance in this case was invaluable, but only in this case.  This is the first, and probably the last, machine that I have been asked to design where it was essential that the subject sustain no lasting damage from it.  As I said, it was no more than a toy.  A real machine, on the other hand, –”
 

“Please!” exclaimed Eriane.  “I am a doctor!  I find no joy in hearing of the sufferings of others.  My pleasure is found in relieving pain, not in causing it.”
 

Again, Drayl only smiled strangely.  “It will be interesting to see whether that changes in time,” he said.

* * * * * * *

That night, as has already been mentioned, Eriane did not join the others in the Detu section.  He felt that he could not face them.  The guilt that now plagued him was overwhelming.  He felt that he had betrayed his friends, his race, and himself.  His heart told him that Faquire would forgive him, but Eriane did not know whether he could ever forgive himself.  He did not eat dinner at all that night, but went instead straight to his own room where he spent much time in prayer and tears.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 11 - Crushed Hopes

That night, the end of the fourth day of capture, even as Djaisiuk was falling asleep, Jaeger walked slowly to the eating room to meet the others members of his crew.  Most of the other boys were already there by the time that he arrived.  Only Eriane and Wysire were missing.  The boys noticed immediately that something was wrong, and they asked him what it was, but he told them that he wanted to wait for Eriane and Wysire before he explained.  It was, therefore, a rather quieter table than normal that Wysire found when he entered.  After waiting some time longer, they decided that Eriane must not be coming, so Jaeger began, saying that he would tell Eriane all about it the next time that he saw him.
 

“I have some news,” Jaeger began.  “When we left here last night, I was called to Kandryl’s quarters to speak with him.  He informed me, quite amiably, that escape is impossible, and also, though not quite as amiably, that any future planning of such would be met with official disapproval.”
 

The boys stared at him wordlessly.  Jaeger sighed, sounding defeated.
 

“How did he know?” asked Jade quietly.
 

“He said that there is nowhere on this planet that we or anyone else can go where ‘our words will not be heard,’” answered Jaeger.
 

“He can’t listen to us all of the time!” exclaimed Cycil.  “Surely he has more to do than just to watch us.”
 

“He doesn’t have to watch us,” said Detrin.  “He can have anyone watching us, and all they’d need to do would be to report if we said something that we oughtn’t.  It wouldn’t take many people doing it to have someone watching us always.”
 

“It’s just as well then,” said Wysire, “that I was unable to find out anything about Creole, Christopher, and Faquire.”
 

“How did that go?” asked Jade.  “Were you told that it was ‘privileged information’?”
 

“No,” answered Wysire.  “I asked my supervisor, but he told me that he didn’t know.  I asked if there was some way that I could find out, but he said that he doubted that I’d be able to do so.  He said that they could be in any number of places; it’s possible that they aren’t even in this facility, he said.”
 

“Did you fare any better with finding Djaisiuk?” Jaeger asked Jade.
 

“No,” Jade laughed scornfully.  “Rodre told me that even knowledge of his location required a far higher security level than mine.”
 

“But he knew where Djaisiuk was?” asked Sandy.
 

Jade shook his head.  “No,” he said.  “When I first asked, he said that he would look.  He pulled up some information on us, but apparently even he didn’t have access to information on Djaisiuk.  He knew that Djaisiuk was here, but he couldn’t tell me where.”
 

Jaeger nodded.  “It’s just as well.”
 

“But if we could find Djaisiuk,” said Cycil, “he could come up with something.  With him working with us, escape would be more than possible; it’d be almost definite.”
 

“There’s to be no more talk of escape,” said Jaeger firmly.  “I started this talk, and I won’t have any of you getting in trouble for following me.”
 

“Jaeger,” said Wysire softly, “you wouldn’t be the one to blame.”
 

“I don’t want to see any of you get hurt,” said Jaeger.  “We’re not going to escape.  If we ever leave this place, it’ll only be if our captors release us, or if our own people come and rescue us.  There’s nothing that we can do.”
 

The boys were silent, but they knew that he was right.  It would be only by a miracle that they would leave.
 

“God might rescue us,” said Sandy quietly.  “He rescued Hannaniah, Mishael, and Azariah from the furnace.”
 

A few of the older boys smiled at this.
 

“Yes, He did,” agreed Wysire.  “And yes, He might rescue us.”
 

“At least it’s not a furnace from which He has to rescue us,” said Detrin.
 

“Yes, I suppose that it could always be worse,” smiled Jade.
 

The others nodded quietly, but none said anything.  It was a sad and quiet group that sat together that night.  Hope was what had kept them going.  Now it seemed that their hope was all but gone.  None of them were surprised when Jaeger opened the evening devotions with Ecclesiastes.  When he closed with the eighth chapter of Romans however, all felt encouraged.
 

Cycil, who had a beautiful voice, was elected to lead them all in singing that night, and he began singing a Komislavian song based on the 57th Psalm:

    Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me!
    For my soul trusts in Thee alone; my soul, it trusts in Thee
    And in the shadow of Your wings will I be safe alway
    Until all these calamities have passed and fled away

    I will cry to God Most High; to God alone I cry
    To God who doth perform all things for such a one as I
    He has said and He shall send from heaven and save me
    He saves me from the reproach of him who’d swallow me.

    God shall send His mercy forth!  His Truth shall ever come!
    Praise the Lord, our God above!  Praise Him, every one!

    My soul is among the lions; the dragons fence me in,
    The sons of men, whose teeth are spears, whose way is only sin
    Their tongue: a sword, their words: deceit; they spread a net for me
    A pit they dig, but in they fall!  To God all glory be!

    My heart is fixed, O Lord, my God, it’s fixed alone on Thee!
    I sing to You, and lift my voice!  Receive this praise from me!
    Awake, my glory!  Awake, O harp!  With psalms of joy I’ll sing!
    Awake, O sun, and praise your God!  For God alone is King

    Among the nations, my song will rise; I will sing to Thee aloud
    Thy mercy is unto the heavens, and Thy Truth to the highest cloud
    Be exalted, O God, above the heavens;
    Let Thy glory be over all the Earth;
    Let Thy glory be over all the Earth!

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 10 - The Battle Continues

The fourth morning of capture found Djaisiuk somewhat revived after a full night’s sleep but still moving slower than usual due to the absence of any nourishment during the last day.  He began work as usual, though much slower than the day previous, and his ‘assistant’ Kiacyl arrived soon afterward.  Again, only a single meal tray was brought in the morning, and again Djaisiuk remained at his computers working.
 

As the morning wore on, the young assistant noticed that Djaisiuk would stop working from time to time and just sit still, his eyes lowered and his breathing deeper than usual.  These breaks became more frequent as the day progressed.
 

About the middle of their workday, an orderly again brought in one meal tray.  This time, Djaisiuk arose from his desk and approached the table.
 

“No meal was sent for you,” said the orderly.
 

Djaisiuk looked the young man in the eye for a moment then stepped forward again.  The orderly stepped forward also, positioning himself between Djaisiuk and the table with a firm look of self-assurance and determination.  The orderly was both larger and stronger than was Djaisiuk, and he had no fear of him.   Djaisiuk stood still for a moment, then stepped to the left as if he would go around the orderly.  As he did so, the orderly laid a hand on Djaisiuk’s arm to hold him back, but Djaisiuk immediately twisted his own arm around, taking hold of the orderly’s arm in his right hand and pulling the latter forward.  Before the other could react, Djaisiuk reached forward with his left hand and struck a very light blow to the orderly’s side with his fingertips.  The orderly doubled over in pain, and Djaisiuk struck another light blow, little more than a firm tap really, to the back of the young man’s neck.
 

The orderly fell to the floor, unconscious.
 

Djaisiuk took no further notice of his fallen foe and simply stepped up to the table, lifted the glass of water provided, and swallowed two mouthfuls.  This done, he returned to his computers and resumed his work.
Kiacyl had witnessed the whole incident in shock.  He stared first at the fallen young man and then at Djaisiuk.  Moving carefully away from his own computer, Kiacyl went to the door, opened it, and asked the guard to send for a medic.  He then watched Djaisiuk carefully, prepared to leave the room himself if necessary, but Djaisiuk seemed to take no notice of him.
 

Very soon, two medics arrived, and with them came Kandryl.  The latter demanded an explanation, and Kiacyl gave it as clearly as he could.  The medics examined the fallen orderly and gave him something to bring him back to consciousness.  Djaisiuk continued to ignore everything around himself.
 

“It’s very strange, sir,” said one of the medics to Kandryl.  “There’s no damage; not even a bruise.  The boy was rendered unconscious somehow, but he has not been injured in any way.”
 

Kandryl looked at Djaisiuk with closely veiled approval.  This was an action worthy of a Vukasovian, but not something that would be expected of a Komislavian.  They were such a passive race, not at all prone to violence of any kind.  Djaisiuk had just risen considerably in Kandryl’s estimation.  Yes, this young man seemed to have the effrontery of the best of the Vukasovians.  Even so, Kandryl was not yet ready to trust him.  Djaisiuk's attitude of self-possession and independence would be acceptable only within limits.  If he would but accede to Kandryl’s ultimate authority, he would be truly invaluable.  For the time being, however, Kandryl must make it clear that although this sort of behavior was permissible as regards underlings, Djaisiuk must be willing to obey Kandryl himself implicitly in everything without question.
 

Once the medics had finished their work, they and the orderly left the room.  Kandryl then motioned Kiacyl to leave as well and turned towards the three computers.
 

“Djaisiuk,” he said firmly.
 

Djaisiuk stopped his work and turned to look at Kandryl.  Their eyes met for only a moment, then Djaisiuk lowered his to gaze vaguely in front of himself.  Kandryl smiled approvingly as only a Vukasovian can.
 

“Your audacity is commendable,” said Kandryl.  “You have earned this meal.  Enjoy it while you can; it may be your last for some time.”
 

With that, Kandryl too left the room.

* * * * * * *
That night, Djaisiuk lay awake, thinking.  It was time for planning.  He had planned from the start that he would engineer their escape, if possible.  In order to accomplish this, he had to appear to be working willingly for the Vukasovians.  Djaisiuk had expected that he would be given duties such as the ones he was now performing.  These projects would be very useful to those in charge and would gauge his own abilities.  This was what Djaisiuk had hoped that he would be doing.  Djaisiuk made it a point to not work at maximum efficiency.  He worked much faster than would a normal person of lesser intelligence and indeed much faster than that for which Kandryl had been prepared but not as quickly as it was possible for him to work.  This was intentional.  Djaisiuk did not want Kandryl to know his true abilities.  In order to accomplish his plan for their escape, Djaisiuk would have to be able to do a tremendous amount of work, aside from his assigned work, undetected.  To do this, he must still be able to finish his usual work in the amount of time that Kandryl would come to expect.
 

Djaisiuk had to keep ahead of Kandryl; he had to work faster than Kandryl could work in his place.  In this way, Kandryl would not have time himself to review all of Djaisiuk’s work in detail, nor would any single person.  The work must either be reviewed in brief, be reviewed by several different people, or not be reviewed at all.  Djaisiuk would then also be given more to do which would require him being granted more access.  This too was essential.  Djaisiuk had to find out everything about their situation without it seeming as though that was what he was doing.  Already he had discovered most of what he would need to know in order to plan exactly what needed to be done.  He had been able to ascertain with almost complete certainty that they were here now as part of an experiment, not officially sanctioned by the government of Vukosava, but rather under the absolute control of Kandryl.  Based on what information he had gathered so far, it appeared that the experiment had been Kandryl’s idea from the beginning.  The Vukasovians would strengthen themselves and weaken their hated neighbors by draining the brain power of Komislava and channeling it into Vukosava.  The Vukasovians were well aware of the existence of the IC School on Komislava.  They knew also that these boys of great intelligence were sent out often on exploratory and experimental missions.  If the Vukasovians could capture them, a few at a time, and have them work for the Vukasovians, then they would gain a great asset at very little cost.
 

Kandryl, as has been said, was apparently in absolute control of this experimental facility.  His duty: to show that the idea could work.  He had captured one ship of twelve boys.  If he could show that they would work for the Vukasovians, even against their own people, he would have succeeded.  If the boys were not compliant, then they would be eliminated and the plan retried with a second ship.  If up to three ships failed, the plan would be deemed too risky to continue and would be dismissed.  The facility would be closed, all personnel would be reassigned, and all evidence pointing to its original purpose would be destroyed.
 

Djaisiuk knew that he had to warn his own people of this plot.  Even if his own escape was impossible, his people must be warned.  But he did not imagine that escape would be impossible.  Because of the extremely delicate nature of this experimental project, all that was required to destroy it was knowledge and proof of it in the hands of an outside source.  The difficulty lay in getting that knowledge to any outside source without the Vukasovians knowing that it had been done.  If the Vukasovian government suspected that anyone outside knew of the existence of the project, they would immediately shut it down, get rid of the boys, and eliminate all traces of the experiment.  Knowledge itself would end the experiment, but it could also end the lives of the Komislavian boys.
 

Djaisiuk’s plan of escape was underway, but he needed more time in order to implement it.  Much more time.
 

The breaking techniques that Kandryl was employing were draining, to say the least.  The stress that they were causing was building more and more each day.  Djaisiuk longed for his piano; indeed, his fingers fairly ached when he thought of it.  It would be such a help!  But he must not ask for it.  In time, perhaps, it would not be so dangerous to do so, but right now he must not allow Kandryl to know of its existence.  But without it, the constant barrage was far more difficult to bear.  Djaisiuk knew that he could easily go along with whatever Kandryl wanted and thus avoid these present discomforts, but he also knew that he must not do so.  Kandryl wanted information from him.  The questions he asked now were harmless enough, but they would not remain so.  If Djaisiuk continued to offer Kandryl all that he wanted, in time Kandryl would want more.  It must stop somewhere.  Djaisiuk had vast quantities of information that Kandryl would love to obtain but that Djaisiuk knew that he must not give.  To lie was out of the question.  To remain silent was the only option.  Given his personality and usual behavior, this provided him with the perfect shield.  He had told Kandryl that he did not like to speak, and he would maintain that position.  Kandryl might think what he liked, but he would find that Djaisiuk would work willingly, so long as he was not required to speak.  If Kandryl decided to pose his questions in a written format, asking that the answer be given in the same way, then Djaisiuk knew that he would find himself in difficulties.  But he still hoped that it would not come to that.  At the moment, the facts were simply this: Kandryl wanted Djaisiuk’s absolute submission; Djaisiuk was offering to meet Kandryl half-way.  Kandryl could either take it or leave it, but Djaisiuk would come no further.  It only remained to be seen whether Kandryl would ultimately accept.
 

In the meantime, these breaking techniques also ate into the workable time that Djaisiuk was given.  If they continued indefinitely, he knew that he may be unable to effect their escape.  These gave Kandryl time to study each of Djaisiuk’s projects at leisure.  Djaisiuk would have to work faster than Kandryl could review if the plan was to work.
 

In theory, his plan seemed simple enough; in actuality, the difficulties were enormous.  Djaisiuk intended to put very small pieces of harmless (and seemingly useless) code into several key areas of the main systems.  At a set point in time, which he would later determine, these pieces would come together secretly to form a complete program that would send the information and proofs that he would, by then, have collected to his home planet.  This plan was daring and deadly.  If it failed or was found out, then it was very likely that all of the boys would be executed immediately.  If it succeeded, then the Komislavians would have the proof that they would need to come and rescue the boys.  Without this information, they may be able to guess what had happened (based on the last known position of the ship and the partial message sent by Djaisiuk), but they would be unable to come to the precise location and to ensure either that the boys would be returned or even that they would still be alive when their people arrived.  The slightest miscalculation, the closest timing being off, and the Vukasovian officials could kill the boys and destroy the evidence, thus proving that they had never been there.  It was a delicate process and a very risky plan, even if Djaisiuk was able to function at full capacity for as long as was needed.
 

As long as was needed would likely prove to be at least two weeks.  Djaisiuk knew that he could accomplish it in the space of seven days, if necessary, but he would then be far less sure of avoiding detection.  The longer that he had in which to do it, the better able he would be both to disguise his efforts and to cover his tracks afterwards.  No, two weeks, possibly more, would be safest.  With circumstances as they were, he could not tell if it might be longer, simply because of the delays being caused by this constant torment.  If, on the other hand, Kandryl gave up entirely on dominating Djaisiuk and was content to let him simply work, it might go faster.  Djaisiuk had no way of knowing.
 

Kandryl needed definite results to show to his superiors in order to prove that his experiment was working.  He may continue to try to break Djaisiuk’s will for some time yet, but, in the end, if he found that he would be unable to break him without killing him, he may relent.  He may decide that a half-way compliant super-genius was better than none at all.  Djaisiuk was far too valuable to the experiment to simply throw away.  Djaisiuk showed no resistance where work was concerned.  He worked willingly and well.  He would not provide information, but he would work.  He could only hope that Kandryl would eventually become content with this arrangement.  But, again, he had no way of knowing.
 

With this knowledge, the certainty of uncertainty, Djaisiuk was able to more fully trust in God for their ultimate deliverance.  It was not up to him.  He would do all that he could, but God would be the deciding factor.  Would Kandryl give up on dominating Djaisiuk?  Would Djaisiuk's plan ultimately be discovered?  Would the rest of the boys retain both life and sanity until their people could come?  Djaisiuk had no control over any of these factors and therefore committed them fully to the Lord.  He asked God to give him the strength and the will to do all that he must.  He begged that the Lord would look after the mental well-being of the others working for the Vukasovians and the physical well-being of those who were not.  And, finally, he asked that the Lord would work even in the hearts of these, their Vukasovian captors, to make His glory known.
 

Feeling comforted then, Djaisiuk finally drifted off to sleep.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 9 - Escape Plans

The third night of captivity had found eight of the boys sitting round a large table in the main eating room on the second level of the Detu section.  This was the first night that Leil had joined the others, and all still hoped that Djaisiuk would come eventually.  Conversation was lively for a time, discussing daily activities and so forth.  They were all surprised with how well they were being treated.  Most of their supervisors and fellow-workers seemed to look down on them, and some were openly disgusted with having to work with Komislavians, but they all seemed to try very hard to hide this and to make it appear as though they didn’t mind it, especially whenever Kandryl happened to be near.  Kandryl alone seemed not to be bothered in the least by their race.
 

For the boys’ part, most were adjusting well to this new situation.  Leil seemed to be having a hard time with it, but none who didn’t know him well would have been able to see anything different in his normally quiet and withdrawn attitude.  Sandy and Cycil seemed nearly as happy as if they were back on the ship, particularly when they were with the others.
 

That night, Jaeger waited until all had arrived, then, at the first lull in the conversation, he leaned forward and spoke quietly, looking around at the others intently.
 

“Has any of you been thinking about escape?” he asked bluntly.
 

The other boys looked at him and at each other for a moment before replying.
 

“I have,” said Sandy softly.
 

“And I,” said Detrin.
 

“I think that we all have,” put in Jade, getting nods of agreement from Leil, Eriane, Wysire, and Cycil.
 

“I just don’t see how we can do it,” said Eriane.  “We’d have to have a ship, and none of us has access to one; we’d have to get Creole, Christopher, and Faquire out of wherever they’re being kept, and we don’t even know where that is; and we’d have to find Djaisiuk, and we don’t know where he is either.”
 

“I think that if we work together,” said Jaeger, “it might not be impossible.”
 

“Did you have something in mind?” asked Jade.
 

“Nothing definite, no,” replied Jaeger, shaking his head, “but we’ve a much better chance of coming up with something if we all work together than each one alone.  We’re already meeting here together every night without it raising any apparent suspicions.  I don’t see why we can’t work together and try to plan something.”
 

“We’d need a ship,” said Leil quietly.
 

Jaeger nodded.  “I can try to find out about that,” he said.  “We can’t plan on our own ship; it’ll probably be too closely guarded.  That, or they’ll have already taken it apart for study.  We’ll have to take a Vukasovian ship.”
 

“Can you fly a Vukasovian one?” asked Eriane.
 

Jaeger smiled.  “If it flies, I can fly it,” he assured him.
 

“I can vouch for that,” laughed Jade.  “Jaeger was a pilot even when he was still a runner.”
 

“We’ll need Christopher and Creole if we want power,” said Detrin.  “I can see to it that the energy gets from the engines to wherever we need it, but we’ll need someone to work the engines.”
 

“Leil, could you do that?” asked Jade.  “I know that we won’t leave without Creole or Christopher, but we have to consider the possibility that they won’t be able to work.  We don’t know in what condition they’ll be.”
 

Leil shook his head.  “I’m an engineer, not a mechanic,” he said.  “I could try, but I couldn’t guarantee results.”
 

“Djaisiuk could do it,” said Cycil.
 

“Yes, that’s true!” exclaimed Jaeger.  “I hadn’t thought of that.  Djaisiuk could fill any job needed.  Any two or three jobs, really.”
 

“But we don’t know what condition he’ll be in either,” said Leil gloomily.
 

“He’s working for them as we are,” said Jade.  “At least, I would assume that he is.  He came with us and was assigned as we were.”
 

Jaeger nodded.  “Yes, I think that it’s safe to assume that he’s working for them too.  Don’t worry, Leil.  They won’t hurt Djaisiuk; he’s more valuable than any of us.”
 

“Where would we go?” asked Wysire.  “We’re over four days from home; we couldn’t get there before they caught up with us.”
 

“Jade?” asked Jaeger, turning to him.
 

“Londar is closest,” replied Jade, “but I doubt that we’d be safe there.  Their race is even smaller than ours, and they are deathly afraid of the Vukasovians.  I’m sure that they wouldn’t shelter us.  Udolia would probably be our best bet.”
 

“Udolia!” exclaimed Sandy.  “But they hate everybody!  They wouldn’t help us.”
 

“They do hate everyone,” agreed Jade, “but that’s precisely why they would help us.  They like people to know that they don’t like anyone but themselves.  If we go to them, it’ll be a question of helping the Komislavians while hurting the Vukasovians, or of helping the Vukasovians while hurting the Komislavians.  We’re such a small race that they won’t care if we know that they hate us or not.  The Vukasovians, on the other hand, are a considerable force in this galaxy; the Udolians will be all too happy to show them that they won’t be pushed around.”
 

Eriane.
 

“I can think of a way to deal with that,” said Wysire.  “Once we near Udolia, we’ll send a message home telling them where we are and where we’re headed.  Then, when we land, we’ll tell the Udolians the whole story and beg their hospitality in allowing us to stay on their planet for a week until our people can come and retrieve us.  Knowing that our people know that we're there, the Udolians will be less likely to take us prisoner, and, even if they do, our people will at least know where we are, and they can then negotiate with the Udolians for our return.”
 

“A week would be a long time to stay there,” murmured Cycil.
 

“Yes, and it may be longer,” said Detrin.  “As Wysire said, it’s nearly a five-day journey from Vukosava to Komislava, and Udolia’s in practically the opposite direction.”
 

“But not very far in the opposite direction,” said Jade.  “That’s the important part.  We’ll have to get somewhere and get there fast."
 

"Also, as Sandy said, the Udolians hate everyone, including the Vukasovians, and want people to know that," said Wysire.  "That could very well work to our advantage.  If the Udolians see us coming with the Vukasovians pursuing us, they may well send out a group of their own ships to ‘rescue’ us, even if only to upset the Vukasovians.”
 

“When you put it like that, it sounds perfect,” smiled Eriane.
 

“Can you find your way there without maps, Jade?” asked Jaeger.  “We may not be able to access the maps on the ship, if they have any.”
 

Jade laughed.  “Show me the stars, and I’ll show you the way,” he said with a nod.  “I can take us there.”
“Suppose, just for the sake of argument, that the Udolians don’t agree to protect us,” said Eriane.  “Suppose that the Vukasovians are upset enough that the Udolians don’t think it worth their while to keep us.  What then?”
 

“The Vukasovians wouldn’t take that chance,” Jaeger assured him.  “They wouldn’t make a threat to the Udolians that they weren’t willing to carry through, and I’m sure that we twelve would not be sufficient reason to spark large-scale disagreements with Udolia.  Push would turn to shove very quickly there, and Earth might even get involved.”
 

“Well, we certainly don’t want to cause the Fifth Interplanetary War,” said Detrin, smiling.
 

Jade laughed.  “I can vouch for the fact that we are not that important,” he said.  “I agree with Wysire; we should be safe on Udolia, at least from the Vukasovians.  I sincerely doubt that the Vukasovians would even try to get us back if we can only get there.”
 

“Good then,” said Jaeger, “we have our destination.  Now we still need to find Creole, Christopher, Faquire, and Djaisiuk.  If we all start asking questions at once, it might ignite suspicion.  Wysire, I think that you’d be the most obvious one to make inquiries, at least for Creole, Christopher, and Faquire.  You have the best right to see them of any of us.  And if they won’t let you, Eriane can try next, though they may have reason to want to prevent him from seeing them.”
 

“If I find that they’ve done anything to them,” began Eriane, his voice bordering on anger, “I’ll . . . I’ll . . . .  Well, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
 

The other boys nodded sympathetically.  They none of them wanted to see Creole, Christopher, or Faquire hurt, but at the same time, they knew that there was nothing that any of them could do to prevent it.
 

“Rest in the knowledge that you’ll be able to treat them all once we’re on board the ship,” said Wysire.
Eriane nodded, resigned for the present.
 

“I suppose that that’s all that we can do for now,” said Jaeger.  “As I said, I’ll look into the ships.  Wysire, you try to find out all that you can about the other three.”
 

“What about Djaisiuk?” asked Cycil.  “Who should look for him?”
 

“I will,” said Jade.  “I don’t think that it’ll make any difference which of us asks about him; he’s not a prisoner anymore than we are.”
 

“As far as we know,” muttered Leil.
 

“It’s settled then,” said Jaeger.  “We’ll discuss our progress tomorrow night.”

* * * * * * *

On the way back to his own quarters that night, Jaeger was intercepted by a messenger who told him that Kandryl wished to speak with him.  Jaeger, having no idea what this could mean, went immediately to Kandryl’s quarters.
 

Jaeger entered the main room and looked around.  There were several people working at different stations around the room, some standing, some sitting.  Jaeger looked for Kandryl and soon saw the latter enter the room, smile, and beckon to him.  Jaeger then followed Kandryl into one of the smaller side rooms.
 

Kandryl sat down and motioned Jaeger to do likewise.  His expression was friendly, but thoughtful.
 

“You’re the oldest of your group,” said Kandryl abruptly, as Jaeger sat.  “I suppose that that means that you command a considerable amount of respect from the others in your group.  That is a Komislavian custom isn’t it?  Respect for age?”
 

“They do respect me, yes,” Jaeger answered cautiously, “but we all have respect for each other in different ways.  I am the oldest, it is true, but Jade has been a member of the IC School longer than I have.  Djaisiuk has been a member the longest, and, being the smartest, he commands the most respect.”
 

“Do the others obey when you command?”
 

“When I am the one in authority, yes,” answered Jaeger.  “But there are many areas over which I have no authority.”
 

“But in matters of leadership, where the good or ill of the entire group is concerned, the others would probably follow you?” queried Kandryl.
 

Jaeger considered for a moment before answering.  “I would say that most would, yes, if they felt that my decision was correct.”
 

“And you would not wish to lead them into danger?”
 

Jaeger frowned, wondering where Kandryl was taking this train of thought.  “No,” he answered slowly.  “I would not wish to lead them into danger.”
 

Kandryl smiled condescendingly at him for a moment.  “Then I think it only fair to warn you that you would not, indeed, be safe on Udolia, nor on Londar, nor even on Klianara, which would be next closest.  You would never make it to any of them.  You would not even be able to commandeer a ship, I can assure you.  And even if you were able to do that much, without my consent you wouldn’t be able to free those three that are imprisoned.”
 

Jaeger looked Kandryl in the eye, refusing to react to all of this.  He could not play ignorant (for that, he told himself, would be a lie), but neither was he about admit that any of this had been considered.
Kandryl continued to smile, though it was not an unkind or sarcastic smile.  It was the almost amused smile of a parent speaking to an erring child.
 

“I suppose as time progresses we will both learn more things that you as Komislavians do not know about the Vukasovians,” said Kandryl gently.  “Something that every Vukasovian knows is that that there is nowhere on Vukosava that they or anyone else can go where their words will not be heard.”
 

Jaeger’s face fell, ever so slightly, before he caught himself.  No! he thought.  Escape cannot be impossible.  We will not spend the remainder of our days here.  We will return home somehow!  But how?  Their plans, their ideas, their work, all came crashing down around him.  It was useless.  They couldn’t escape unless they worked together, but they couldn’t work together without Kandryl knowing all that they discussed.
 

Jaeger lowered his eyes, no longer being able meet Kandryl’s gaze.  He sat silently now, thinking through all of this.  What would he tell the others?  How could he tell them that there was no hope?  It must not be!  Where there is life, there is hope.  No, they would not give up; they would find a way, if there was a way to be found.
 

“It’s not so bad,” continued Kandryl, still watching Jaeger closely.  “You’ll find in time that you may enjoy it here.  You are part of a much more powerful race now.  Your potential can now be realized in ways that you previously could only dream.  In time, you will become one of us.”
 

Jaeger scarcely suppressed a shudder at this last statement, but he did manage to keep his expression firm and nearly indifferent as he looked up at Kandryl again.
 

“Do intend to punish us?” he asked.
 

Kandryl’s eyebrows rose questioningly.
 

“As you said,” continued Jaeger, “I am somewhat of the one in charge when it comes to leadership.  I am the only one who should be blamed for tonight; the others were only following.  If we must be punished, then I ask that you punish me as you see fit and leave the others.”
 

Kandryl’s eyes narrowed slightly as he smiled again, but this time it seemed to Jaeger that there was the slightest hint of cruelty in the smile.
 

“No,” Kandryl all but purred, “I don’t intend to ‘punish’ any of you; I only wanted to point out the futility of your plans.”
 

Jaeger looked cautiously relieved.
 

“But,” added Kandryl, his voice a little harder now, “I think that I can safely expect that this will not happen again.  Would you consider that a reasonable expectation?”
 

Jaeger looked at him.  Yes, there was hardness in Kandryl’s face now.  No, nothing was going to be done to the boys at this time; they had simply made a little mistake.  If, however, they chose to repeat the ‘mistake’, then the consequences might not be pleasant.  Jaeger read the message quite clearly.  He swallowed his anger and tried hard to assume an expression of perfect self-possession.
 

“I think that you are safe in your assumption,” replied Jaeger quietly.  “It will not happen again.”
 

“Then you are dismissed,” said Kandryl.
 

Jaeger got up without a word and left the room.  He walked back to his own room, wondering how he would tell the boys tomorrow night.  Kandryl had told him and him alone for a reason.  He knew that Jaeger had started this, Jaeger would lead this, and Jaeger would carry the plan to completion, if possible.  Now Kandryl was forcing Jaeger to stop not only his own plans, but also any that the other boys may have had at the risk of unpleasant consequences, not only to himself, but to the others should they refuse to stop.  He must be the one to crush the hopes so recently built.  And he must be the one to see to it that those hopes did not rise again.
 

In his own room, Jaeger found sleep very difficult.  His emotions were in turmoil.  How could he continue to work for them, knowing that escape was impossible, knowing that there was no end in sight?  As Kandryl had said, he was the leader, in a sense; he was the oldest, and the boys looked up to him.  They had followed him when he had said that he would work for the Vukasovians.  How could he continue to lead them down this path, knowing that there was no end, apart from a miracle?  But he had known from the beginning that it was possible that they would not escape.  He knew that they might have to stay here indefinitely.  What would happen if they did?  They still would not compromise; they would remain strong together.
 

The words of Kandryl came hauntingly back to him: “In time, you will become one of us.”
 

Never! Jaeger swore to himself.  I will never become one of them.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 8 - The Second Move

Kandryl entered Djaisiuk’s workroom early in the morning of the third day of capture while the latter still slept.  Kandryl had been a little surprised that Djaisiuk had not called for him on the night previous, but he considered that perhaps the young Komislavian had a stronger constitution than he had expected.  When he saw that Djaisiuk was asleep, Kandryl congratulated himself that the young man was indeed perfectly human and therefore prone to human weaknesses.  Try as he must have done, the boy-computer had been unable to keep awake all night.  He was certainly no Vukasovian.  The guard, however, had obviously been remiss in allowing Djaisiuk to sleep.  He would have to be reprimanded.
 

“At what time did he fall asleep?” Kandryl asked the guard.
 

“Just after you left, sir,” was the immediate response.
 

Kandryl was shocked.  Djaisiuk had not even tried to stay awake then.  Such blatant defiance was quite unexpected.  Suppose Kandryl had decided to come back a few minutes after leaving.  Surely Djaisiuk had thought of this.  Why had he then displayed such open rebellion?  The other boys had been perfectly compliant, save only the three that refused, from the start, to work.  This one was different; he was unpredictable, and that could be dangerous.  This rebellious nature must indeed be crushed.
 

Djaisiuk had awakened upon hearing the voices and raised his head from the table.  He blinked only once, then turned to glance at Kandryl and the guard.  They both returned his gaze.  Without change of expression, Djaisiuk straightened himself and turned to sit in his somewhat relaxed posture of the night before, tangent to the round table, staring at the wall, his back to the door.  Kandryl looked at Djaisiuk for a short time without speaking, but the latter did not move.
 

“You may return to your work,” said Kandryl at last.  “But do not think that your insubordination will be overlooked.”  With that, he turned and left the room.
 

Djaisiuk arose, moved to the computers, and again began to work.  Again Kiacyl entered soon afterward, and again they sat together in silence.  This time, however, Kiacyl had work to do, left over from the previous day.
 

When the door opened again, the orderly from the day previous entered with a single meal tray.  This he set on the circular table but did not then immediately leave the room.  Kiacyl looked curiously at the single tray, then questioningly at the orderly.  Djaisiuk continued working for a moment or two, then turned and stood up.  He would have advanced to the table, but the orderly stopped him.
 

“A meal was not sent for you,” said the orderly.  “This is for your assistant.”
 

Without a word or even the slightest change of expression, Djaisiuk turned again, sat, and returned to work.  Kiacyl looked at him as if unsure of what to do, but then got up and went to the table.  He ate his meal in silence and then returned to his desk as the orderly cleared away the tray.
 

Kiacyl finished the assignment given him by Djaisiuk to the best of his abilities shortly after breakfast.  He told Djaisiuk so, and Djaisiuk gave him another within an hour, this time without a word of instruction.  Kiacyl was becoming used to Djaisiuk’s silence by this time and set to work immediately without asking questions.
 

Lunch was served about noon, but again only one tray was brought.  Again Djaisiuk accepted this fact without a word.  Kiacyl ate uncomfortably, wondering why Djaisiuk was not being fed, but also annoyed with the constant presence of the orderly during the meal.  He was glad to return to work afterwards.
 

As the afternoon wore on, Djaisiuk began to work more and more slowly.  The tremendous energy required to keep his brain functioning at maximum efficiency required a substantial amount of nutritional input to sustain it.  As the time without food lengthened, Djaisiuk’s ability to work efficiently declined.  About two hours after the noontime meal, Djaisiuk suddenly rose from his desk, stood for a moment without moving, then walked into the adjoining room.  There he lay himself down on the bed and proceeded to fall asleep, the single act of living that required the least expenditure of energy.
 

Kandryl entered Djaisiuk’s workroom shortly after Djaisiuk had retired.  He knew that by now Djaisiuk would be very hungry and would understand perfectly Kandryl’s intent.  He would receive no food until he was prepared to submit to Kandryl’s authority in all areas.  At least, this was what Kandryl wished Djaisiuk to think.  His self-confident smile slipped a bit however when he saw that Djaisiuk was not in the room.
 

“Where is the Komislavian?” he asked Kiacyl.
 

Kiacyl had risen in respect when Kandryl had entered and now indicated Djaisiuk’s sleeping quarters.  Kandryl opened the door, stepped into the little room, and, without ceremony, took hold of Djaisiuk’s shoulder and lifted him out of bed.  Djaisiuk was instantly awake and stood, looking up at Kandryl expressionlessly.
 

“What do you mean by sleeping in the middle of the day?” Kandryl demanded.  “You are to work, not sleep.”
 

Djaisiuk simply looked at him without answering.  Then, for the smallest fraction of a second, his expression changed very intentionally to one of contempt.  Immediately it was gone, and Djaisiuk’s face was again emotionless.  He lowered his eyes to the floor and did not look at Kandryl.
 

That brief moment had been enough.  Kandryl’s eyebrows rose slightly; he understood.  Djaisiuk despised him for stooping to such measures as he was employing.  Djaisiuk was not angry with him; he was disgusted with him.  And he would not submit.  That look told more than an hundred words, for it was not open to misinterpretation.
 

Kandryl slowly released his hold on Djaisiuk.  “Not yet ready?” he asked softly.  “Perhaps another day will change your mind.”

* * * * * * *
That night, Kandryl had much to consider.  He did not again visit Djaisiuk’s room, preferring to leave him alone until the next night, unless Djaisiuk sent for him.  It seemed very possible that this behavior of Djaisiuk’s was not open rebellion, but rather a mixture of stubbornness, arrogance, and laziness.  He again came back to the single most important question: was it worth the risk to trust him?  Again and again he came back to this question, and always the answer was the same: no.  Or at least not yet.  In time, perhaps he would, but for now Djaisiuk was too dangerous.  Was it worth the risk to allow him to continue to work?  Here, the answer was an unequivocal yes.  Djaisiuk's abilities were such that they could not remain unused.  Thus far, he had given Kandryl no reason to doubt his work.  Yes, he must be allowed to continue to work, though Kandryl decided that he would still continue with the breaking techniques, in the hopes of eventually being able to control Djaisiuk, mind and body.  If these techniques were successful; very good.  If they failed, they would at least have bought him more time in which to observe Djaisiuk, after which Kandryl might be able to make a more informed decision as to what should be done with him in the long-term.  For now, Kandryl had but to watch and wait.