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boy. You can see what happens to traitors.”
    The soldiers dragged them both back to the house. They laughed as the one who’d caught Kira tore her clothes from her body and raped her.
    “Leave some for us, Hek,” called one as Kira cried out in pain.
    Chaka struggled but the man was too strong. “You want to watch this, kid.” He held the boy’s head with a hard, calloused hand so he couldn’t turn away. “You might learn something.”
    He tried to close his eyes, but he could still hear her gasps and groans and her pleas for them to stop, they were hurting her, please, no, please.
    “Okay, my turn.” The man holding Chaka thrust him over to another man. Chaka looked at her then.
    Kira. Saw the terror and pain and helplessness in her eyes for just a moment, before she turned her head to face the next assault.
    They raped her again and again and each time her struggles and cries weakened. They made him watch, forced his head around when he tried to look away, taunted him, mocked him, assured him she was enjoying it. In the end, she lay on the floor, limp and silent, bruised and bloody. And the last thug said,
    “You watching son?” He waited until Chaka’s head was wrenched around. “We can’t leave any evidence, you know.” Still grinning, he pulled back her head by the hair and slit her throat. Chaka saw the spurt as the artery severed, felt the splatter of warmth on his cheek. Her body jerked once. Hot tears streamed down his face to mingle with her blood.
    “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt for long,” said the man holding him.
    Chaka avoided the first blow, but not the second.
    His eyes were wet. He lifted the forgotten glass in his hand and drank. The liquor was fiery in his throat.

ChapterSix
    Allysha arrived at her office a few minutes late. She’d had a terrible night; she’d hardly slept at all. The events at Lake Sylmander replayed again and again, Saahren beating the young thug’s face to a pulp.
    He’d been so angry, so dangerous. She’d slipped into sleep and lived through what had happened to his sister, but this time the victim was her. She woke gasping, clammy with sweat, her mind full of the fading memory of an ugly man leering at her, a knife in his hand. When she finally managed to drop off again, Saahren took over. He’d rescued her and they’d made love. And then he morphed into Sean and the whole fantasy evaporated. Just when she was starting to get over him; when she was beginning to consign
    the past to history, where it belonged, Saahren pushed himself back into her life, insinuated himself into her heart again. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?
    She’d tossed her bag into its usual corner before she noticed the flowers. Her shoulders slumped.
    Simple and lovely, the arrangement stood on her desk, five golden blooms tucked into bright green foliage. She didn’t need to read the note to know who sent them, but she read the message anyway.
    ‘Thank you for a wonderful day. Brad.’ Brad. Yes, he paid for them. But he would simply have given an order to his adjutant. Butcher, send some flowers to Miss Marten. She’d have to commend SenComm Butcher on his taste the next time she saw him. She hesitated. She could just throw them away. Yes.
    She’d do that after work.
    She walked through to the work room, where the five specialists she was training sat at their stations.
    Five pairs of eyes stared at her. “Morning folks.”
    “Well?” demanded Anna. “Tell!” She waved her hands in a beckoning motion. “Who’s Brad? What does he look like? Is it serious?”
    Allysha snorted. “You lot have been reading my mail.”
    “Of course we did,” Anna said, tossing her head. “The flowers are beautiful. So come on, who is he?”
    “Just somebody I used to know,” Allysha said. “He was in Malmos for just one night, now he’s gone.
    No, it’s not serious and the rest doesn’t matter.”
    Anna tossed a skeptical glance over to Sirikit, who grinned. “Where did you