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difference. Cubit is the most popular gambling game throughout the galaxy. The players and bystanders bet on the outcome, which color quad one will get first and whether or not either player will roll a quad on an initial try. It's taken very seriously by some players."
    Cherry noted the way he made it sound like he didn't take it very seriously himself but she had a feeling the opposite was probably true. "So, Captain, what are the stakes in this game?"
    His answer began with a slow grin. "I wouldn't want to take advantage of your innocence."
    Immediately, her guard went up. "Why do I get the feeling I'm being conned here?"
    He asked her to explain what she meant by that and then firmly denied he would ever do such a thing. "I'll tell you what, we'll just play for points... until you decide to make it a bit more interesting."
    Cherry's intuition told her she was still being entrapped by a practiced liar but boredom seemed more lethal than any snare he had planned for her. "Okay. I'll play with you, Captain, but be warned, I'm very good at games."
    His only response was another slow grin.

 
     
     
    Chapter 3

     
    Inside the Mosque of Omar in Jerusalem, Bessima stood behind a marble column. Shrouded in the concealing garments of an Arab female, she attracted no attention to herself. There were many visitors that day, both the devout and the curious, who had come to see the rock from which Muhammad allegedly had ascended to heaven.
    Suddenly a fierce-looking man, in traditional Muslim attire, was standing on the rock, scanning the faces of the people beyond the guardrail. Within seconds, shocked murmurs rippled through the crowd.
    "I am the prophet, Muhammad," the man loudly declared in an old Arabic dialect. He waited until several onlookers confirmed that he did indeed look like drawings they had seen.
    The prophet continued in a booming voice that echoed off the dome of the mosque. "You must prepare yourselves for Judgment Day. Allah is coming. Non-believers and those who disobey Allah's words will be punished. Behold the face Allah will wear and remember it."
    For a few seconds, an image hung in the air above Muhammad then it and he disappeared.
    Bessima sighed with relief as she observed the people around her. This had gone much better than the visitation at Our Lady of Lourdes. The Arabs were properly shaken by the prophet's appearance and appeared to accept his warning. It confirmed her suspicion that she had to avoid the places where large numbers of Americans congregated until the very end of her mission. She had been on Terra long enough to discover how jaded the Americans were.
    If the Princess had known more about these Terrans before sending off Bessima, her most able warrior, she might not even be there. But the Princess had been convinced that Terra was the ideal planet for the relocation of her people and that the natives were a primitive, easily conquered species.
    Bessima now knew better but there was no way to advise the Princess of her discoveries. As she had been ordered, Bessima destroyed the ship that had brought her to Terra a year ago. The only thing she could do at this point was head for Asia next and hope for the best.
    The warrior could not help but wonder how the rest of the Princess's plan was progressing. From the beginning it had been understood that if the royal plan did not come to fruition, Bessima would be stranded on Terra for the rest of her life. If that were to happen, however, she had already learned of several countries that would suit her needs and accept her leadership.
    * * *
    Princess Honorbound inspected the platter of cooked morset ribs offered by the servant boy and chose one the size of her forearm. The four men and five women seated on the floor around the huge stone slab that served as a table waited tensely as she brought the meaty bone to her teeth and ripped off a chunk of meat. A trickle of juice escaped the corner of her mouth and ran down her chin while she tested