Davin Segrich sat alone in his office looking down upon his city. Grich looked beautiful in the dark, morning hours. And the city, built upon the ruins of Hama, seemed to writhe with the power of Segrich’s people. Industrial sectors pumped money-making smoke high into the air, hard at work even this early, as shopkeepers went to prepare for a long day of Grichian shoppers.

A century ago, Segrich’s Grand Elderfather had won his race its right at the highest point of power: the major race. By the blood of their people, the Grichians had defeated the minor races and the former major race. The days of the Hamans had ended, and the planet’s very name changed again. Grichia was at peace for Grichians. And all the other races bowed in servitude to their might.

But the Lord Councilor had a very big problem that robbed him of sleep. Segrich sought a place of quiet, silence that would erase the stressful images in his head. Reports of speeches and demonstrations, all claiming that racial tolerance was the path of the future, made him grunt with irritation.

“Tolerance,” Segrich spat with contempt, staring down at the two-foot-long, thick Lord’s Rod. It was solid white gold with a large, blue-hued diamond in the head. “As if the races could live together in peace. We were meant to gain dominance. That was why we were put here. The powerful overcomes the weak and the weak die off. It’s natural. Tolerance… is unnatural.”

The source of all this was Korrich. The very bastardized name of the man twisted Segrich’s mouth in contempt. But that would all be over very soon, he knew. His reddish hands, the color of skin that gave away a Grichian, held a piece of paper he’d lovingly read a hundred times. A tall and fairly well-built man, Segrich felt uncomfortable in the new chair his advisors had brought up for him.

“I liked my old one,” Segrich said as he put the paper down, taking a sad glance at the golden ring on his finger.

It was at the moment, when Segrich seemed to finally be at peace, when one of his aides burst into his office.

“Blast, you fool of a man! Can’t I have a moment’s silence!” Segrich shouted to the suddenly fearful young man standing with a report. He didn’t mean to shout at his aide. His temper sometimes got away from him, though. “Sorry, Dane. I’m a little on edge lately. What is it?”

Dane Kellic cautiously approached his leader and handed over a brown piece of paper. “This just came in from our man, lord,” Dane said, using the term lord not as a sign of sovereignty, though it would apply, but as its normal use to refer respect. “He has infiltrated Korrich’s group.”

“Good.” Segrich happily sat down at his desk and peered over the paper. “He must be very good then. Part of the new security team, is he?”

“Yes, lord. He wasn’t specific, but he’s very confident things will work out.”

“Excellent. I want Korrich out of the picture. And if we can do it during his public presentation, those Cawns will fall apart.” Segrich knew it was about time the Cawns learned who their masters were. His people had sacrificed too much to have their homes, their lands, their families and their incomes put in danger by an enigmatic minor race.

It wasn’t that Segrich hated them, not really. He just knew that Grichians were better and more fit to inhabit this world. This was simple fact to him, not opinion.

However, he hated the foolish individuals who could not understand this fact. Fools like Korrich and his ever-willing people who put him up as their leader. They needed to be put to order so that the better-fit Grichians could thrive, as Segrich knew and would see to.

“The speech is planned for tomorrow, lord. Our man says he’ll make sure we have an opening. He’s very confident,” Dane continued.

“He’s the best, Dane. I have all confidence in him. By tomorrow, Korrich will no longer be a problem,” Segrich said, able to fully relax for the first time in days as he watched the moon rise over his people’s city, knowing he still had a lot of work to do.

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In Korrich’s pragmatic house, Zel had been given nothing but the most basic of accommodations. Not that he expected any more. He was happy he was allowed to put his belongings inside. They had given him a room, but he had no intention of going there.

“You are a very persistent man, do you know that?” Korrich said with a laugh. All Korrich wanted was a little solitude while he changed and washed for the night. Zel had given him neither.

“I told you I’d give you my protection,” Zel replied. He’d never stopped scanning the room, an act he could do while maintaining normal conversation.

“And I suppose that doesn’t exempt me washing between my cheeks, does it?” Korrich asked as he walked back to his bed, vigorously rubbing a towel through his hair.

“It’s indecent is what it is,” Korrich’s wife, Silen Nul Korrich, said. “You’ve never trusted outsiders before, Il, so why did you start now?”

“I still have this, my love,” Korrich said as he pulled the gun out of a belt holster. It was the gun with one shot left, the one he’d intended to finish Zel off with. “So do not assume I trust him completely. I simply admire his resolve.”

Korrich was still waving the gun when Mandrin Ban Gull, the guard Zel had brushed past earlier that evening, walked through the door. “Lord, we’re…” Mandrin paused at seeing Korrich with the gun. “Is there something wrong?”

“Not at all, my friend,” Korrich replied with a smile as he holstered the gun. “What is it?”

“I just wanted to inform you of a change in the plans for tomorrow,” Mandrin said, putting one leg into the room and keeping the rest outside.

“A change? Surely it won’t interfere with my speech and demonstration, will it? If the march the next day is to be successful, I must have this speech to rally our people.”

“No, lord. We’ve simply moved the platform to another spot.”

“So late, Mandrin? I hope you’ve investigated its location for safety and viewing,” Korrich said, his arms opened and his hands up, patiently waiting for assurance.

“Why do we have to change it now?” Silen asked, crossing her arms in irritation. In the short time Zel had been with her, he’d found the woman was very controlling. He had an amusing inner thought that living with her had been the training grounds for making Korrich the great leader that he was. “It’s been at the head of the courtyard for weeks.”

“That’s exactly why we’re changing it,” Mandrin replied with a slight stutter. He avoided looking at her directly, for fear she might get more upset with him. “Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but Segrich’s known about the location too and moving it to the sidelong avenue near the electrode wholesaler would be a safer spot.”

“Hmm, the location would give good resonance,” Korrich said, rubbing his hands together while pondering.

“Have you checked it out?” Zel asked.

“Personally. It’s safe from any threat, I can assure you,” Mandrin said.

“It better be,” Silen said with a glare.

“Peace, wife let the man go. Thank you, Mandrin, you may depart,” Korrich said, and dismissed the guard with a thankful wave of the hand.

Mandrin made a slight bow and went out. Zel followed him.

“Where are you going?” Silen asked.

“I’m going to check your house again,” Zel said, holding the door handle.

Korrich laughed, saying, “My dear Prophet, with you I feel more an infant than a man. But I do not despise the swaddling if it will allow me to deliver my speech safely.”

Zel nodded, and left.

There was a slight pause while Korrich and Silen stood alone. “I still don’t like him,” Silen said. “Maybe he’ll just leave.”

“I don’t believe we will be that fortunate, my love. And his protection might be of use,” Korrich said and took off his brown socks.

“No protection is worth having him here. Do you have any idea what the people will think of you if they find out you have a Prophet holding your hand?” Silen asked as Korrich embraced her, holding her head against his shoulder. Silen held her husband and was thankful he could be so strong.

“It would not damage my reputation with the Grichians any, love,” Korrich said with a laugh. “And we must remember that with change we can either go to it wholeheartedly or not at all. Holding any reservations will only lead to past problems.”

“Don’t be cryptic with me, Il.”

“I am sorry. It is my greatest wish, love,” Korrich said softly, “my greatest hope, that the other races, if only one, could see the way I see, to say what I am saying. I want the races to finally see we are no different from each other so that all can share in a love as deep as we share.” Korrich kissed his wife and smelled her flowery-straight hair. It smelled pure. “That will be the day I’ll do anything, forgive anyone, and join any and all who believe in tolerance.”

Silen looked her husband in the eye and said, “Are you saying we should be friendly to… Prophets?”

Korrich kissed his wife gently. “I am saying that when change comes, this very world will be shaken to its foundations.” Korrich smoothed Silen’s long hair. “And when it comes to a stop, who knows where we’ll be.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for that.” Silen rubbed her shoulders, suddenly cold.

“I don’t think anyone is, my love.”