and then
you will know my decision."

Thane's mind was full of reasons why the old priestess should not
travel out into space, with all the stresses of that travel, to a
position of great danger. But he met her determined eyes and saw at
once that all arguments would be futile.

He got up to leave, and with the sincerest of respect, lied to her.
"Your decision will be mine, Priestess Selan."

VI

The ship used by Selan in her trips through the system was little
larger than the usual scout class but it had been completely refitted
for her purposes. She'd had a special acceleration couch built in to
allow her to survive the stress of space travel. And Thane noted that
the large visiscreen would be ideal for watching the battle. And the
communications system was larger than usual. It might do for his
purpose.

They stayed well back from the restricted area where the whole Onzarian
fleet was orbited. On the screen images appeared--twenty-three Class I
cruisers, each with its own fleet of cruiser escorts, scouts, disrupter
carriers, tenders and screen amplifiers. Swarms of independent tactical
squadrons. Controlling all of them, ready to put them into instant
action, was the battle-control cruiser, with its tracers, its receivers,
its computers, its nearly automatic message center--and Candar and his
staff.

Thane turned to the tracer that had been installed. Selan was by his
side. He switched on its galactic screen. The Darzent marshalling was
now almost complete. A few flashes of light still crossed the screen,
crossing countless light years at each jump, pausing, and then a vault
through more light years. As Thane and Selan watched, the flashes
changed direction. The marshalling was complete, and the assembled
might of Darzent was on its way. Thane found it hard to believe that
even the fleet waiting before him could cope with all the force of
Darzent.

The Darzent fleets had started from points spanning the whole Galaxy.
With each flash of lights they converged, arrowing toward the Onzarian
Confluence. Thane could imagine the watchers at similar screens in
each ship of the battle fleet. Eyes becoming, grimmer, nervous smiles
appearing and disappearing on faces, hands clenching on instruments.
And the waiting.

The flashing lights approached closer. The lead group of lights
appeared, ten light years from the tiny orange circle marking the
confluence. There was a pause--somewhat less than a second--and the
l