“Welcome, pastors.” Rena said. “As you've probably read in the papers, yesterday we talked to reporters. That's not because of importance, more because we expected you might like a little more notice. Thank you for coming. At the moment, please consider this an informal chat.”

  “The tone of the letter...” one pastor said.

  “Was provocative, yes,” Rena said.

  “Challenging, anyway,” another said.

  “And I didn't get all the references, myself. Some of our members who aren't here today suggested a lot of it. I'm pleased you came. We are pleased you came. If you read one of the right papers, you're aware we consider this to be a crisis. If you read the wrong ones, well, what can we say? Thanks for coming anyway. If we're 'a bunch of scared girls', we're also a bunch of women happy to be known by the word Christian. I hope none of you find short extemporaneous prayer challenging, but yesterday, there were some reporters who were sent by others to cast doubt upon this council and to spy on us for their earthly masters, in fear of what might happen if they didn't. Today, we plan to be more open, so we also want to be more cautious. Is there anyone here who might be similarly sent?”

  “Are you thinking of my church elders asking me to come?”

  “That depends on your elders,” Yana said. “Would you say they are godly men happy to set see sin and heresy denounced, souls won, and new believers growing strong by unflinching exposition of scripture, or are they more interested in making sure that your two sentence introductions to songs don't turn into sermons that might upset someone?”

  “Urm, somewhere in the middle, but they are not at all keen on the new laws.”

  “Because of tradition, or because the new laws condone sin?” Rena asked.

  “Because as of last week, we are no longer allowed to name sin sin.”

  “Thank you for bringing that concern to this council,” Rena said. “We were away, but we have the constitutional power to suspend or strike down laws. That sounds like a prime candidate. Interference in legal religious services is a clear violation of the constitution.”

  “Parliament has said that the constitution requires them to prevent religious hatred and calling anything sin is stirring up religious hatred.” one of the others said.

  “Despite the fact that the constitution clearly states what it means by religious hatred, they warp it and twist it,” another pastor said.

  “It's very simple to explain,” Rena said, “but before we do, are there any others who feel they have been sent here to disrupt or spy, or have any concerns about who is or isn't here?”

  “I'd expected Alexo to be here, Ada's father. He'd have some things to say about people interfering with his sermons.”

  “Alexo and Ada stayed for the wedding, we're expecting them to get here a day or two after rest day.”

  Yana moved towards a particular member of the crowd, and addressed him directly. “Would you like to say what's on your mind?”

  “I don't know why I'm here,” he replied.

  “In the sense that you're not a pastor or you don't know why some people sent you?”

  “I got the invitation. I'm the pastor of my church. No one sent me. But... I don't preach sermons. I thought everyone said that was... urm, outdated?”

  “This meeting is open to all who love God and trust in him, and don't mind the thought of keeping on trusting him when the world turns upside down, whether that means foreign armies marching across Tesk or rioting in the streets. I hope you don't mind confusing your congregation because there are some things you might want to tell them. But there are some songs which I expect they've not sung in a fifty or a hundred years, which might strengthen them for what is to come. You might want to take time to explain some of the words though, and point them at the biblical passages they are drawn from.”

  “We often sing old songs.”

  “Do you know 'Let us not fear the ancient foe', and 'I live, I die for Jesus'?” Rena asked.

  “Yes, but...”

  “But?” Mari asked.

  “They're funeral songs.”

  “Not originally.” Yana corrected, “Sing them with hope and trust and determination. 'Let us not fear' was originally written before the fall of the windward Empire. Sometimes it's ascribed to baroness Arelan of Resk who plunged a knife into the newly-crowned emperor during the revolution, but in her book she ascribes it to another and says it was a great comfort to all the members of the rebellion, which is how she learned it.”

  “Can we sing it now, and then move on to prayer?” one of the council members asked.

  “Let's pass out the booklets, so we're all singing the same version,” Rena said. “Oh, I'm stupid! There's a note on a lot of the older council minutes that I didn't understand. It sometimes said 'l.u.n.f' or but normally just 'lunf' I thought it was some kind of notice about lunch or another meal, but it must have meant they sang 'Let us not fear'.”

  “Rena,” Sashan said, “Have you seen what's on the wall above you, just above the tapestry?” Engraved in the stone were the words, 'Let us not fear.' Rena groaned, “Zero out of ten for observation to me. Thanks, Sashan! Let us sing, and then let us pray. Pastors, some of you are wondering why this is more like a youth-group meeting than government. Some of us were a lot further from God than others when we left for Caneth, but in case you're wondering, every current member of the high council has realised they can't do this alone and individually we've thrown ourselves on God's mercy, both for what's going to face us in the next week or so and for our lives and all eternity. May God pour out his mercy on the nation of Tesk once more, and may we become a beacon of faith as we fight this battle!”

  There were a number of surprised looks from the pastors as rather than the muted murmurs they might get in their churches, the response was a clear shout of 'Amen' from the twenty-eight members of the high council present.

  And then they sang:

  “Let us not fear the ancient foe,

  God, make us strong, where're we go,

  Your Spirit in us as we pray,

  To guide and strengthen on our way.”

  And again the pastors were humbled and rebuked and filled with joy as the often sombre words were sung with confidence and faith. Not just the first verse, either, they sang all the verses, the ones that spoke of pain and setbacks and the death of loved-ones and faith in God almighty to deliver through them all. All agreed, afterwards, that that resounding Amen, and the song, and the prayer time afterwards had together fanned into flame their confidence in God that had begun to sputter and die. They left the meeting serious, but with a resolve that they'd not felt for a long time.

  “You should have been there,” they told their wives and their friends. “Will you come with me tomorrow morning? We're invited back.”

  “What's the subject?”

  “Today we sang, prayed, gave testimonies, and looked at some evidence that the second revolution was a counter-revolution.”

  “A what?”

  “Ever get the sense that Tesk is unwinding the influence of the gospel, and soon we'll be back with human sacrifices?”

  “That's not funny?”

  “No. But have you?”

  “In my darker moments, yes.”

  “Just after a really good day when you felt close to God?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Have you heard of dum-semb?”

  “That damned 'I am ruler of my own life' heresy that's getting more and more popular among the elite?”

  “Read this, and I'll see you at the high council tomorrow. Printed from the original plates.”

  “'A brief history of the end of the empire'? Which empire?”

  “Windward.”

  “A counter-revolution against the revolution?”

  “Read, be convinced, and pray, dum-semb is not a heresy, it's much older than that.”

  “Hi, Rena!” Gath, greeted her. “You're looking... more confident, more alive.”

  “Hi Gath, God is good.”

  “He is, isn't he? Why don't we ever talk about Hm?”

  “Personally I was scared stupid that I'd find out that you had even less faith than me.”

  “Urm, yes. I guess I was scared I'd find out you'd lost yours. Do... do you have the gift, Rena?”

  “I do Gath. And my faith is far healthier than it was. Thank you for praying for me.”

  “Praise God!”

  “I do, Gath. I do. Sorry, I need to speak to the pastor.”

  Towards the end of the service, Rena was called up to the front. “Thank you so much for letting me speak, pastor,” Rena said. “When I was on my way to Caneth, I learned a few things. First, I learned that when the sailors from the Isles say they're giving us good value for eels, they're lying; they're subsidising us so we don't go hungrier. Second I learned that faith in Caneth or the Isles is not a matter to be shut away in social clubs, but something to be sung about with loud voices and talked about in throne-rooms and dinner tables with heads of state. I witnessed a lovely debate one meal-time between King Val, crown-princess Esmetherelda, and duchess Hayeel of Repink in the Dahel empire, which apparently is 'just a little duchy, only about the size of Tew', about whether royalty ought to tithe their tax income. For the record, Esmetherelda said yes, Hayeel was arguing both sides, and King Val was arguing that that just meant that the king had to collect more taxes and why not trust people to give more than a tenth of their income once they'd met their needs? Can you imagine that debate here? I was also challenged by duchess Hayeel to get serious with God, and stop ignoring him, which I mostly have been since my brother died. All of us on the high council have dedicated or rededicated our lives to God in the last week. You've hopefully heard of our realisation that followers of the doom-guard religion orchestrated the second revolution, the counter-revolution against the nobility who in exchange for an income roughly the same as a teacher's had the task of rooting out corruption and judging those accused of the doom-guard's religion. Tomorrow or perhaps the next day, a group of prisoners will be coming from Caneth. Caneth have agreed to hand them over to Tesk, as this is where they are from. There is no doubt about their guilt, they admitted it in Caneth, before the whole high council and the politicians who were with us. The doubt is only about their sentence. Please pray for those who try them. Please pray for me, as I will be judge of one case. You know me as Rena. I'll happily answer to that name, but I've got another, more dangerous one: Renela, baroness of Resk. It is my role, my duty under God, having inherited the title from my late mother, to judge those who practice the religion of the doom-guard. And I have sworn before God and the high council that I will carry out my duties. I don't know if I'll ever get paid, maybe the doom-guard will bring mobs to kill me and the other remaining nobles. But if I live then I will judge, and I will exercise my other duties. So if anyone wishes to complain about corruption, feel free to approach me. But please pray that Tesk will not fully fall back into the hands of the doom-guard religion. I have heard how much power they have already, it is a lot, and of course it is not just political power behind them. So, I beg you for your prayers. It is scary to learn that human sacrifices have been happening on Tesk ever since the mobs almost destroyed the nobles and forced us into hiding. A woman who until her arrest was a priestess of the doom-guard's religion and is now a child of God, fully repentant of her sins, told us there were more and more sacrifices every year. Please pray for the noble who tries her case. Can he be merciful in the light of her repentance, or must he condemn her to the death her past actions call for? Your prayers are so important, please pray. It would be easy to fear, but our God is strong. Can we please sing the hymn of the first revolution: Let us not fear the ancient foe. With faith, with determination, with hope.”

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  After the meeting was over, Gath came to see Rena once more. His face was serious. “You were magnificent, Rena, Renela.”

  “You're sad.”

  “I'm scared.”

  “That too,” she agreed.

  “I don't know how you can do it, Rena.” he said. His thoughts were guilt-stricken. She was his friend, how could he let her take this risk alone?

  “I hope I'm not going to be alone, Gath. ”

  [Gathlek] his mind corrected.

  “Gath, what earned me my reprimand from Hayeel was you. Just so you know.”

  “What? She doesn't approve of us being friends?”

  “Friends she was happy with, along with other God-honouring possibilities. It was the ones that left God out she didn't like. What I'm saying is there are different ways you can be beside me. As long as you're not planning to run from my scary title, I'm happy.”

  “Urm, are you saying you urm...” his mind filled with possible things she might be saying. But he was pretty sure she'd just been dropping strong hints about romance. He'd hoped but never been brave enough to actually ask her what she thought about him. He found his fears being washed away in hope as he looked down at her beautifully sparkling eyes and the very adorable smile growing on her lips.

  “Not scared now?” she asked, her eyes sparkling even more.

  “Not scared,” he said, answering her smile with one of his.

  “That's nice, now, there's more people I need to talk to.”

  “Would you like to come to lunch? I'm cooking.”

  “Can you come to us? Visitors expected.”

  “Dad too?” Gath's mother, like Rena's, had died when he was young.

  “Certainly,” Rena said turning to the church organist, “Miri?”

  “I just wanted to say your mother would be so proud of you.”

  “Thank you, Miri.”

  “And I don't think he's deep into it, but my lodger...”

  “He's in the army, isn't he?”

  “A lieutenant,” Miri replied. “He seemed such a nice boy, but in the last couple of weeks ... he's got... I don't know, colder.”

  “There may be hope for him, Miri. If he's not looking too busy, please tell him that you heard at church that all the lieutenants in the army were being informally asked to speak to the high council sometime before tomorrow lunchtime. There'll be people there all day and all night.”

  “Just you girls there on your own?”

  “Oh, don't worry, we've requisitioned some official guards, not to mention some cousins, brothers, boyfriends, and husbands are around too.”

  “That's good.”

  “We think so. Sorry, Teni seems to want to say something.”

  “You and Gath?” Teni asked.

  “Problem?” Rena asked.

  “Not in the least. I've been wondering when he'd realise.”

  “Want me to give Dallew a nudge? No secrets from me, now. But it was pretty obvious, for what a year, two?”

  “Not to him, it seems.”

  “He's a guy — impervious. But speak faith to him first, Teni. No wait a moment. Dallew?”

  “Urm, yes, Rena?”

  “Two questions, you are still in the army aren't you?”

  “Yes, sergeant now.”

  “Great! Just hypothetically, would it bother the average sergeant greatly to be asked by the high council to arrest a general or a captain on a charge of conspiracy to commit human sacrifice?”

  “Dear God forbid! You're not saying the evil's in the high command, are you? I'd do it, no question, not now I've heard you speaking about it. First thing this morning... I'm not sure.”

  Rena handed him a booklet, “Background reading for you, pay particular attention to the appendix. Third question, would you like extra copies for trusted friends of sergeant rank or lower?”

  “Not the whole officer corps?” he asked going pale.

  “So far.... let's call them rumours. I don't know how low its got in the ranks.”

  “I'll take ten copies if I may?”

  “Certainly,” Rena said, counting out a quarter of her stock.

  “Teni,” Dallew said, “will you pray for me?”

  “Of course I will Dallew.”

  “Here's ten, more copies are at the high council chamber.”

  “I need an good motive to go and chat to everyone,” Dallew said musing. “Urm, Teni, I've been meaning to ask...”

  “Yes?”

  “What do you think of the idea of us getting engaged? I'm pretty sure you like me and I know I like you. Lots.”

  “Engaged? Just like that?” Teni asked.

  “Too quick? Sorry. I just thought ...”

  Rena interpreted for him “He knows how he feels, Teni, and he knows you have faith better than you know he has, and he's thinking about what you said at youth-group about not liking the idea of spending ages not sure if a boyfriend was going to ask you to marry them.”

  “You remember that?” Teni asked.

  “Yes.”

  “That must have been three or four years ago.”

  “You were looking at me when you said it.”

  “Excuse me, Rena, I need to have a long talk to my fiance.”

  Dallew gave a joyous whoop and picked Teni up and span her around. Then he sheepishly put her down as he remembered he was still in church.

  “I take it Teni said 'yes', Dallew?” the pastor asked.

  “Yes, pastor!”

  “Countess Elakart, Welcome, have a seat.” Matew, Rena's father greeted the frail woman.

  “It's a long time since I've been here, isn't it, Matew?”

  “Just my daughter's lifetime.”

  “And you, Yalek, when did I last meet you?”

  “About the same time, Elakart. Yanelana was about two I think.”

  “So, who is this young man?”

  “Mother called me Gathlek, countess. I don't claim a title yet. I'm too terrified.”

  “But he's not afraid to spend time with Renela.” Matew said, “or to tell us his name, so there's hope.”

  “Count Ralek of Ranet is escorting the prisoners, mother, along with his daughter, Ardela” Kara said.

  “And will someone tell me why it's a good idea to meet up now?” Yalek asked.

  “Because next weekend might be too late,” Rena said, “Given that we asked for a week before the combined navies of Tew, Caneth and the Isles start dismantling the government and the military, one canon-ball at a time.”

  “You what?” Yalek asked.

  “Daddy, I did tell you the treaty had been invoked. It allows the highest authority of the land the minimum necessary time to set in place a realistic course of action to eradicate the outbreak. We asked for day one: alert the press, day two, alert pastors, day three, swear in nobles, make contact with low ranking officers. Today rest, tomorrow low-ranking politicians and more officers. Day after tomorrow, prisoners testifying before politicians, making accusations, wide scale arrests. Day after that, the navies arrive and we say we're doing OK. Or we're not able to do that, in which case we need help.”

  “And you told the press this?” Yalek said.

  “Of course not. We haven't even told them what the religion of the doom-guard calls itself.”

  “Let me guess,” Yalek said “dum-semb.”

  “Exactly,” Matew replied.

  “But they know you're after them, surely?”

  “Not all of them, no. That's a key part of the plan. The politicians we had with us in Caneth, at least, knew that they were involved with dum-semb, but were shocked to hear it was the religion of the doom-guard, and terrified to hear that every time an acolyte, novice, priest or priestess gets a new tattoo, then someone has been sacrificed.”

  “You're going to have a problem arresting the entire officer corps of the army, if it weren't for them you'd be OK.”

  “That's where we come in, isn't it?” Elakart said. “You want us signing suspension from post orders.”

  “Exactly. The high council can sort of do it, with a presentation of evidence, and so on, but for a noble, it only takes their name on a sheet of paper, and they are suspended from office until they are tried. And for the rest of the army, once that's done there is no longer any charge that can be brought against a rank and file soldier for disobeying orders.”

  “Do the soldiers know this?”

  “It's in the training manual, we're reminding them, and the rumour mill is working on it, we hope. Since lots of junior-rank soldiers go home on rest-day, and a fair chunk go to church, and we got about half the pastors yesterday and the day before, so... maybe, just maybe it'll work. We also know now what papers are going to publish something like the truth, so the council can concentrate drip-feeding them constitutional titbits and we nobles can look at the other papers and see who it might be appropriate to demand come to the high council to testify about their actions.”

  “All this before lunch, eh?” Elakart teased.

  “Certainly not, countess. But we've got about half an hour before its ready. Esmetherelda sent us back with a little care package, by the way.”

  “I was wondering why your kitchen was smelling like very funny roast eels.”

  “Very funny looking eels indeed,” Rena agreed. “Unable to swim. Would you like to guess?”

  “It reminds me of my childhood. You've got some lamb haven't you?”

  “Yes, mother.” Kara said, “We have roast leg of lamb for lunch, and you will be having some lamb broth to take home.”

  “What about the others?”

  “We're doing better than you, Elakart,” Matew said. “Speaking of which, how are you doing with avoiding bread?”

  “I'm succeeding reasonably well.”

  “And your health, is it working?”

  “Can't a woman have any privacy?”

  “Not from those who love her, no.” Kara said. “So tell us, mother.”

  “I'm feeling a bit better, thank you.”

  “That's excellent news!” Matew said.

  “Yes, it is indeed.” Yalek agreed. “Is a complete recovery predicted?”

  “As long as I starve, yes. Tubers and marsh-root. What a basic diet!”

  “And lamb broth, to build your strength.”

  “Made with tubers and marsh-root, no doubt.

  “And Dahel grain, which is different to wheat, and ought to be safe.”

  “And costs a fortune. I know the prices, even if I don't run things now ”

  “I think this is the time to present you with this, countess.” Matew said.

  “What's that? Other than in Dahelese?”

  “That is apparently the certificate of an accredited favoured exporter from the duchess of Repink, famous for its exports of carpets and Dahel-grain.”

  “How favoured?”

  “Zero export tariff on Dahel grain coming to Tesk,” Matew said.

  “Zero?” Elakart was shocked.

  “Normal rate is ninety percent. All you need to do is find a grain-ship or three with captains you trust — your certificate is for up to three standard boatloads per year. You'll see there are four copies, you keep the master copy. Hopefully someone knows what a standard boatload is.”

  “Three Dahelese standard boatloads?” Elakart exclaimed. “That's an almost-sinking river barge! What's the woman doing?”

  “Hoping to help the poor of Tesk not starve, mother. She trusts you will not crash the entire grain market nor get rich from her generosity, but when she heard about the family business she decided we probably still had contacts.”

  “And with that I can find a captain and have him leap up and down in joy.”

  “Yes, mother.” Kara said, “Oh, it also allows a ten percent export tariff on two top-quality Repink carpets to Tesk or Caneth via Tesk per grain shipment. She says that ought to be good for her duchy's net exports, because she's fairly sure they don't make the quote 'low quality rubbish on sale in Caneth'.”

  “Two carpets don't make for a ship load to Caneth.”

  “No, but they make the captain think he wants to go there.” Kara said, “And I wonder what they might take to fill up the cargo-space.”

  “God bless the woman!” Elakart said “She's baiting the journey for exports, isn't she?”

  “Exactly. It's too late in the season for anything this year, but she hopes you have an entertaining winter negotiating, and she says she's going to beg a friend of her father, a captain called Davdo, to show his face on Tesk again once he gets back to Caneth port. His ship's called the Gem of Karet.”

  “Why won't you all just let me die in misery? I had it all planned out!” Elakart exclaimed. “You go and make me the key figure in your plans to reinvigorate the cloth trade, feed Tesk, and not to mention try half the army, and then you go and tell me that? You're cruel and heartless giving me hope like that. How am I supposed to wallow in self-pity and pine away before mid-winter with all that to think about?”

  “I don't want you pining away in self-pity, mother.”

  “What's so special about the ship, Elakart?” Matew asked.

  “I am the Gem of Karet, It's a traditional title for the duchess. He was lovely and kind and I turned him down twice for good business reasons when I was eighteen. And he went and named his ship after me? The romantic fool! It's not fair! You're ganging up on me. All right I give in, I'll stop planning my funeral and give life a chance. Give me some paper, Renela, if you want me to draw up some suspension from post orders.”

  “Would these pre-printed forms be of use, duchess?” Rena asked.

  “Ooh, look who's efficient. And have you got a complete list of people I'm writing in the gaps too?”

  “Here is a list of the army officers and which regiment they're assigned to, Here is a list of where the regiments are posted, and we don't yet have a list of where the generals live but we're assuming they're not on their bases.

  “That's fine dear,” Elakart said. “it can be work-place, birth-place or residence. I'd say regiment identifies them quite well.”

  An hour later, Elakart sat back in her chair, and said, “Thank you Matew, a very pleasant meal. Nice spices on the marsh-root, too. Do I blame duchess Hayeel for that too?”

  “The recipe is from her sister, lady Taheela.” Kara said.

  “I'd better write to them and thank them, hadn't I?”

  “Don't forget to ask Hayeel to pass on that letter,” Kara said.

  “What letter?”

  “The one you were thinking of writing, mother. No one is going to replace dad, but you don't need to be lonely.”

  “My prince asks me to report that we are all on board, captain,” the interpreter said, “and all the cargo is tied down, we hope.”

  “Has everyone eaten some ginger?” Captain Davdo asked. “It's supposed to help.”

  “Our eyes burn with it captain, we will try not to poison the fish.”

  “Rather the fish than the cabins, that's my motto,” the captain said. “No more last minute fond goodbyes?”

  “All said, I hope, captain. The last one was actually a proposal.”

  “Really? He's going to be staring blankly out at the water all the way there then.”

  “Urm, actually, he's going to be staying. It developed into sort of a competition, between two brothers, which of them would have the best excuse not to come. Except the one who is coming had planned this with the girl who is now his future sister-in-law. He pretended yesterday to buy a new race-horse from her father, so that his brother would make up his mind and propose. The prince knew.”

  “And the horse?”

  “Will be looked after faithfully by the brother who stayed, and if the brother who comes with us becomes an ambassador after such an honourable deed, then the horse will stay in his care, else the horse will be bought properly or 'sold back'. The father-in-law will be happy in any of the cases.”

  “It is an honourable deed to trick one's brother into a marriage?”

  “There is no question that they hoped to marry, it's just he did not feel worthy to ask. But they have been in one another's company a long time, it is becoming a trial to the parents and a scandal to the girl, and thus to the prince. She would have married someone else if he had come with us.”

  “Ah, I think I see. He almost waited too long to prove himself worthy, while others ask too early and are rejected that way.”

  “Relationships are complicated.”

  “That they are lad, that they are. Ships are much simpler. Cast off lads, weigh anchor, back to the calm coast of Caneth for the winter!”

  “And maybe Tesk?” one young man asked hopefully.

  “Depends, lad, that depends. Politics being what it is, the duchess might not be very welcome.”

  “May I ask, why do you call your ship the duchess, Captain?” the interpreter asked.

  “Because that's the rank of the lady who the Gem is named after, and you'd have to get me very drunk to tell you more, lad. Which'd be hard and stupid. Hard because I don't drink at sea, and stupid because if you managed it I'd then chuck you overboard for putting the ship in danger. Can't have drunkenness on board a ship at sea.”

  “I would not try such a dishonourable thing, captain.”

  “Good man.”

  In the prince's curtained off corner of the hold, he turned the dials and flipped the switches in the right sequence, waited the time Naneela had instructed him to for everything to stabilise and pressed the transmit button. “Calling in, one percent power.”

  “Hearing you loud and clear,” Naneela's voice came back.

  Salay flipped a switch, “Trying a tenth.”

  “That's good, too.”

  Another switch. “A hundredth.”

  “Still fine, no hiss.”

  “We're just leaving the wharf, I'll aim to call as we enter Wahleet.”

  “OK. Start at a hundredth of a percent power, it ought to work, and there's no point wasting your batteries.”

  “Turning off,” he turned off the high voltage battery. It would still work for a bit, he knew.

  “Take care, big brother. I'll be praying for you.”

  “You too, genius. Half voltage coming up... now.”

  “Bye.” he heard as a final whisper. He reduced the power to the heaters; the less shocks they had the better, Naneela had said; slow turning on and slow turning off could increase their lifespan significantly.

  Salay closed his eyes in silent prayer. Let me not break this, fragile thing, Lord. And let me treasure Hayeel even more.