Just a few more steps. One. Two. Three.

"Wait!" a voice called.

She froze. Here it came. They wanted her after all.

"You'll need an escort to the floor the delegates are on," the female guard said. She stepped into the elevator ahead of Daria and slid a keycard into the slot. The light for the top floor went on.

Oh, right. She'd completely forgotten that the delegates were on a locked floor. Thank God this woman trusted her. One of the benefits of having a clean ID -- and of being seen with Gray yesterday.

They rode up in silence. When the door opened, she stepped out into the hallway and turned. "Thank you."

The guard looked startled. Did no one ever thank her? "No thanks are warranted," she said in Prendarian. "I... I mean... you are welcome," she stammered in English.

Daria smiled. A Prendarian in uniform, flustered. Flustered by her. "Have a good day," she replied as the elevator doors slid closed.

She headed down the hallway, almost sprinting. But outside the doors to Gray's prep room, she stopped to catch her breath. A whole group of hostile Prendarians waited behind this door. And every one of them probably knew why she hadn't arrived with Gray this morning.

Standing out here longer wouldn't help calm her hammering heart. The only way to get to Gray was through this room. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

Her hand shook when she reached for the knob. She grabbed it hard, turned it, and pushed into the room.

No one moved. No one looked. No one noticed her at all. Even the man closest to the door didn't budge, didn't take his nervous eyes from the viewscreen that sat on the table in front of him. The room was full but dead silent. Everyone stared at small viewscreens, frowning, their expressions tense.

She moved closer to the young man's back and looked over his shoulder at Gray's image on the screen. He gestured with his hands while he spoke, his posture and motions urgent. If only she could hear him. They all must be listening through those small ear speakers she'd seen yesterday.

"Daria. Welcome back."

She spun around and saw Hento behind her. "Oh, thank God." She reached out and grasped his forearm. "I have to talk to you. There's a recording --"

He nodded. "Fear not. The recording cannot harm you."

He certainly hadn't wasted any time. Protecting Gray must be his number one job. "What? How?"

"Sarjah Gray... retrieved the recording last night."

"He watched it?" What a stupid question. Of course he had.

Hento nodded.

"But... he didn't call the Enforcers?"

"I assume not, if the guards below let you pass."

"Why didn't he?" She hadn't meant to say it aloud. Oh well. Maybe Hento would know.

Hento's lips curved. "This you must ask of him."

If she had the courage. "He must be angry."

Hento paused for a moment, thinking in that serious way of his. "Yes, I believe so. But he has also been troubled."

"Will he..." God, she couldn't believe she was asking Hento this. "Will he forgive me, do you think?"

Hento shrugged a little. "I do not know."

At least the man was honest. Her gaze wandered to the image of Gray on the closest screen. She moved a few inches to the left so she could get a clear view. He pounded one hand on the podium as he spoke. "The meeting isn't going well, is it?"

Hento shook his head. "I fear not."

Movement to the left caught her attention -- Reema walking toward her. Smiling at her. "Daria," she said softly. "I am pleased to see you. We have been most concerned about you."

She sounded so sincere. Daria felt tears sting her eyes. "Stop it. You're going to make me cry."

Reema drew herself up. "I am sorry. I hoped you would be pleased to see me, not saddened."

"Of course I'm pleased --"

Reema chuckled.

"Oh, you're joking." Daria smiled at her. "I've never heard a Prendarian make a joke before."

Reema touched her shoulder for just a moment. "I'm glad to have surprised you in a pleasant way. But you must go to Sarjah Gray now."

That didn't sound like a joke. "I can't possibly go in there. He's speaking. And things aren't going well, according to Hento."

"That is precisely why you must go," Reema replied. "Show him that you wish for his success."

But she couldn't do anything to help him now. With Spider's recording confiscated, he didn't need her help at all. And now that he'd seen that recording, he must be furious with her. He'd get totally pissed off if he saw her. "I should wait. I might distract him."

"No, Daria. You will give him more confidence. Go, now." Reema grasped her elbow and tugged gently, urging her toward the door. Daria took a reluctant step.

Hento made a small palm-out gesture with one hand, as if to signal stop. "This is a delicate stage, Reema. She should not interrupt."

Reema lifted her eyebrows. "You question my judgment?"

Hento gave her that little half smile of his. "On very rare occasions."

Reema laid a hand on her husband's arm. "Trust me on this occasion. She will inspire him."

Inspire him? Reema had a lot more faith in her than she did.

Hento took a step back and held his arm out toward the blast-proof doors. "Go, Daria. But if he seems agitated to see you, leave again."

Agitated? He couldn't be more agitated than she was, with her heart thumping in her throat. She nodded, then walked slowly to the shielded doors. One woman gave her a curious glance. All of the other Prendarians in the room were still wrapped up in Gray's speech, eyes glued to their little screens.

She pushed open the door slowly. At least it didn't squeak, didn't squeal. None of the delegates would face this door; they'd all be looking at Gray's podium. Maybe he'd be the only one to see her.

An angry woman's voice reached her from the tiered seating. "Earth has been safely in Prendarian hands for many years. I see no call to risk this world by giving power to those that almost destroyed it."

A low murmur rose from the rest of the room.

Daria kept one hand on the door as it closed behind her, easing it shut to keep noise to a minimum. Her gaze stayed on Gray.

He raised one hand. "Please. Listen to me."

The rumbling gradually quieted.

"This world has seen enough strife. Enough fighting." He looked around the crowd as he spoke. "We must move beyond our disagreements. We must work together. We must --"

His gaze caught hers, even though he stood so far across the room. He looked stunned. And not particularly happy.

She gave him a wobbly smile. He didn't smile back. No, he didn't look happy at all. But his gaze didn't waver.

Even from this distance, she saw him take a deep breath. "We must learn to trust each other. To judge each person according to his or her own principles and behavior."

Her own behavior wouldn't stand much scrutiny.

"And we must forgive and move beyond our grievances," he said. "Mistakes have been made on all sides, some of them many years in the past. We cannot hold each other responsible for the mistakes our ancestors made."

He looked away then, looked at someone else in the crowd. "We are all on this planet together," he went on. "None of us have the right to assume total control over its inhabitants. We must learn to share power fairly. And we have all agreed that this constitution ensures a fair and equitable distribution of power."

The vague murmurs around the room seemed positive. As if they agreed.

"The future of Earth is in your hands." He sounded firm, confident. A born leader. "Either approve this constitution, or condemn us all to more divisiveness."

He banged a small gavel on the podium once. "The debate is now closed. The time has come for you to vote. I trust you will act according to your best principles." He banged the gavel a second time, officially closing the meeting. "The certified tally will be recorded in one hour. I thank you all for your service these past days."

She scanned the crowd and saw dozens of people tap the miniature computers in front of them, then stand. Looked like many of the delegates had already decided. All of the chairs being pushed back sounded like a low rumble in the room.

Gray stepped off of the stage and started to climb up the tiers toward her. Many delegates had already stood up and were milling around the aisles, stretching. When a Prendarian delegate spoke to him, Gray stopped. After only a moment, he shook the man's hand and moved on.

Working his way to her.

Another man stopped him, an Earther this time. Gray laid a hand on the man's arm, spoke to him briefly, and started climbing again.

He'd be here in a minute. What could she say? Chances were he'd never forgive her. All that talk about principles and judging each person as an individual -- God, he'd been looking right at her when he'd said that. Judging her.

He was staring at her now, moving closer and closer. She gripped the railing in front of her.

He stopped a few feet away. His face looked so serious. Unsmiling. Unblinking.

Unwelcoming.

God, he looked like he hated her. She'd cry in a second.

She backed away a step, toward the door. "I... I shouldn't have come. I'll go." She fumbled behind her for the doorknob, couldn't find it, and turned so she could see. Before she grasped it, he caught her wrist in one hand. A viselike hand. "No."

He pushed her aside, opened the door, and pulled her into the next room.

Applause came from his Prendarian staff. He stopped short, and she bumped into his back. She tried to pull her arm away, but his grip only tightened.

"Thank you," he said, addressing his team. "I hope our efforts have been sufficient."

Hento came up to him then. Gray bent to speak into his ear. "I cannot stay, Hento. I need privacy."

"I understand."

"I'll contact you shortly. Tell the staff whatever you wish, but give them my sincere gratitude."

"As you will," Hento said with a small bow of his head.

Gray pulled her through the room, and people moved aside silently. She caught shocked stares on several faces before she wised up and kept her gaze to the floor. She wanted to say goodbye to Reema, but Gray strode along like a man on a mission, towing her behind him by that strong grip on her wrist.

Still angry, no doubt.

After what he'd seen on that holo-recording, she couldn't blame him.

The hallway was long and empty. And he still hadn't spoken a word to her. "Are you taking me to the Enforcers?"

He didn't stop until they reached the elevators. Then he glanced down at her. His face looked rigid, obstinate, stern. "I should."

Did he have to bully her? She lifted her chin. "Fine. I'll go with you willingly. You don't have to drag me there."

She pulled at her arm again, and he released her.

"If you run, I will catch you," he warned.

She glared at him. "I won't run. I'm not a coward."

"We shall see."

She swallowed. The worried, rapid beat of her heart called her a liar.

* * * * * Gray piloted the hovercraft in silence. Through crowded, busy streets, into the more quiet residential areas of the city, down a narrow street where he stopped the craft at last, after fifteen minutes of total silence. He could think of nothing to say to her. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her wildly... to simply forget all the pain she'd inflicted. He wanted to yell at her and demand an explanation for the cruel words she'd voiced to Jamison. He wanted to apologize for shouting at her yesterday, for threatening to contact the Enforcers. He wanted to say everything at once. And so he said nothing. She said nothing as well, even though she must be wondering why they were here, sitting in a parked hovercraft on this quiet tree-lined street. They would sit here in silence for hours if he didn't speak. And she had much to answer for. "Why did you come back?" She didn't look at him. "I thought I could help." Help with what? How could she possibly help? "And I wanted to apologize," she went on. "I started out lying to you, that's true. I won't try to make excuses, except to say that I didn't know you then. I thought you were just a collaborator. By the time I realized I didn't want to lie anymore... it was too late." When she finally looked at him, her eyes seemed troubled. "Can you forgive me?" Gods, he hoped he could. But first she'd grant him answers to the questions that plagued him. "Why did you go to Jamison?" "To find out if he was plotting against you." An easy answer. "And to help him with his plot." She turned toward him, shifting sideways in her seat. "No. Hento told me that you saw the recording, Gray. But I swear, none of the things I said to Henry were true." He doesn't mean a thing to me. Would the image never leave his brain? "You are an accomplished liar, then."

She bit her lip. "I guess I deserve that. But I lied to him because I wanted to make him think I was on his side. To get him to trust me, so I could help you. That's all."

Hento's theory. Another easy explanation, perhaps one she'd prepared before coming to him today. But her eyes seemed so sincere. They always had. "And you lied to me for the same reason. To make me believe you were... on my side. So you could use me."

"Only in the beginning. After I got to know you, I fell --" She broke off abruptly. "I changed my mind." "Why?" "Because I started to care about you. But there's probably no way I can convince you of that." Oh, he desperately wanted to be convinced. Even if hearing that she cared about him stung. Caring was a poor substitute for loving. Assuming it was true at all. Perhaps she lied, even now. Her eyes seemed liquid. Damp with emotion. He couldn't face her anymore, so he looked at the command console and idly traced the rows of buttons and dials with one finger. She took such a deep breath, he heard the inhalation. "You'll never trust me again, will you?" He wanted to, fool that he was. "Will you trust me, Daria?" She reached toward him, then pulled her hand back and rested it in her lap, as if she was afraid to touch him. "I already do." How could he believe her? "Words come easily." Her throat moved as she swallowed. "I... I don't know how I can prove it." She could begin by telling him personal truths. But he could think of only one secret for her to share. No doubt a trite secret. "Why do you dislike the darkness?" Her quick indrawn breath sounded like a gasp in the silent hovercraft. "I've never told anyone that." He looked at her again. A cloud must have moved, because a sudden burst of sunlight glinted through the window, outlining her head with an ethereal glow. She was so beautiful. And so uncertain. Uncertain that she should share even a small secret with him. "I am not anyone. I'm the man you claim to care about. The man you claim to trust."

"All right." She faced forward again, blinking against the sunlight as she gazed out the front window of the craft. "When I was little, we had blackouts all the time. Sabotage, I think. Every time the lights went out, people would loot and riot."

He didn't know what loot meant, but he didn't stop her. The fear in her voice told him enough.

"One night during a blackout, my mom and I locked ourselves in the house. Some men came to the door. Prendarian men. They said they were conducting an inspection for contraband weapons. My mother didn't believe them. She shoved me into a closet and told me not to make any noise. The... the last words she said to me were, 'Shut up, Daria.'"

A tear rolled down her cheek. How cruel was he, to make her relive this pain? "Stop. You don't need to tell me."