From the Heart of the Sphere on Ge via the Nexus to the three Guardians present on Gehenna, the message was sent loudly and clearly: the Lord of the Realms would allow the Centurions to do to Edwin as they wished. There was no faking such a transmission.

Next morning, the two counselors walked slowly into the court room where the jury and the audience, Judge Castor and Edwin were waiting. After Christina stated that she had required the necessary permission to proceed, and after Chris Alan and Autumn affirmed the same, Judge Castor began the trial.

Christina called witness after witness, each one giving graphic details on the evil actions of the Shadow Master, some crying and some showing anger. For Chris Alan it was truly emotionally draining, but he kept his composure.

At length, Autumn was called to the stand. She was Christina”s last witness, and her star witness according to plan.

“Tell us a bit about yourself,” Christina began.

“My name is Autumn Harvest Selene Starbright. I am a Lightchild, a Starbard, a wife and a new mother. Specifically, I am the wife of the Special Ambassador, the Counsel for the Defense; and I am Enoshi.”

“So if there was anyone here willing to co-operate with the defense, it would be you; after all, he is your husband.”

“Objection!” Chris Alan argued. “The relationship of the Counsel and the witness is of no relevance to this case, not in any lawful court of the Treaty Powers.”

“Sustained,” said Judge Castor. He was a bit surprised that the Prosecutor would try such a tactic; he’d figured out by then that the Special Ambassador, while no lawyer per se, was no pushover either.

“I’ll withdraw the question…”

“That’s all right,” said Autumn. “If it please the Court, I will answer it.”

“Go ahead.”

“As Starbards, the Defense and I have no conflict of interest when it comes to the truth. As is well known, my Inspirer husband has a peculiarly developed foresight of consequences stemming from the truth, surpassing that even of most Scientists and Protectors when it’s engaged. Telling the Prosecution the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth serves everyone’s interests, including that of the Defense.”

“Very well. Tell us then what you know about Edwin Bitterroot.”

“His true name is Edwin Tendertree. His biological age was put into stasis by his transformation into Shadow; he is effectively twenty-five Standard Years old, and he looks it. He is hell-bent on destroying all who serve the Lord of the Realms and to begin the great Shadow War. I personally have seen him try to blow up an entire planet and kill all the natives and colonists on it – and he would’ve succeeded, if not for my husband’s intervention.”

“So not only has he destroyed other planets, but he continues to try to start a war with the Covenant Sphere and its allies the Treaty Powers, including the Centurions?” The jury and the audience murmured in agreement with Christina.

“Yes, that would be an accurate statement,” Autumn answered.

“In your opinion, has the defendant ever shown any feelings of guilt or repentance?”

“No, not that I’ve seen; he appears to enjoy his mission and carries it out ruthlessly and efficiently.”

“Did you hear that? Not one ounce of remorse,” Christina exclaimed. “What should the penalty for someone such as Edwin be?”

“Death!” the jury and the audience answered as one.

“Yes, death! Men, women, and even children and babies, all snuffed out by this man, and the Defense would attempt to convince you to do what? Cut him loose, hand him over to the Sphere?” Christina was very nearly the match of a Starbard Level Five in putting emotion into her voice, and she used that ability to pull at the heartstrings of her hearers.

“Kill him!” The jury and the audience was just this side of rioting by now, and even Judge Castor was smirking; the spirit of vengeance was thigh-deep in the place. Chris Alan felt as if acid were eating away at his bones.

“Your witness,” Christina said with an undisguised grin of victory.

“I waive the right to cross-examine this witness,” Chris Alan replied.

“What?!?” Christina exclaimed as the jury and even Judge Castor was shocked into silence. Only Autumn seemed unsurprised; but then, she knew her husband better than most people did.

“Judge Castor, I beg leave of the Court to give my summary argument.”

“Granted.”

Chris Alan faced the jury. “Hear me, all of you,” he said while calling upon Prophecy At Need. “No one in the room has more cause personally to hate Edwin Bitterroot than I. He hasn’t merely tried to kill me and mine in the present. Long ago, he foresaw my eventual birth and tried to keep that birth from happening – by destroying everything in the Covenant Realm. Only the intervention of the Lord of the Realms Himself prevented that from happening. I understand your pain,” Chris Alan went on with a dramatic gesture toward Edwin, “because I too have seen this man plan and do great evil, so that all who know of him become filled with hate rather than love. But I have also seen things that no one else in this room has seen, including my own wife: signs that he is at least contemplating repentance.”

Judge Castor slammed his gavel. “Even if that were so, someone like him wouldn’t deserve a stay of execution.”

“Are you unwilling to admit the evidence for my statement, Judge Castor?”

Judge Castor clearly wasn’t expecting that. “Proceed, Counsel Chris Alan.”

“Very well. Raphael, show everyone the recording you made when I was speaking to Edwin yesterday.”

Christina and Autumn soon realized, if no one else in the room did, that Chris Alan’s opening argument had been essentially sound. Edwin had a split personality at the very least – and one of those personalities was prima facae far more and far other than Adami. By any rational standard, Edwin was insane (or even possessed) and needed to be treated as such.

“There you have it,” said Chris Alan after Raphael ended the recording and closed his projection pane. “Part of him is struggling against evil and part of him is bent on evil. The part that’s struggling needs to be shown mercy. None of us deserve to live; only by the Lord’s grace are we here. It is not for you to deny Edwin the grace that part of him seeks.”

“The Lord said to do with him as we wished, and we wish him dead,” Judge Castor shouted.

“The Lord did not say that your wishes are sound, or that they shouldn’t be changed,” Chris Alan shouted back. “This is a show trial, and everyone in this room knows it. You were planning to throw Edwin into Romulus all along, whether he repented or not.”

“Let me tell you something. I was here when my home planet was destroyed. I was in communication with my daughter. I heard her last screams, and I was powerless to help her. No, Counsel, this is one criminal I will not let go.” Judge Castor was not known for crying, but tears were in his eyes.

Chris Alan felt sorrow for him and for them all, but he was far from out of the game. “Very well, do as you wish, but be warned: if you throw this man into Romulus, you will all die.”

The jury and the audience laughed, and then booed, chanting “Shadow no more, Shadow no more!”

Chris Alan faced the jury with eyes and hands glowing, and his anger was palpable; to Judge Castor it felt like the gathering of forces before a great thunderstorm. The Judge felt no fear or intimidation, nor showed any, but Chris Alan expected no less of him. It was the jury and the audience that Chris Alan hoped to impress.

There it is again, Edwin thought in amazement, the White Hand’s Power going off the scale! What’s that Lightchild up to now?

“This is your final warning!” Chris Alan exclaimed. “You have no idea who and what you’re dealing with here – or who and what is empowering and possessing him. You’re choosing between the past deaths of billions if you release him to me, and the future death of trillions if you don’t. Counsel Christina,” he added as he turned toward her, “you’ve said yourself to me that I know Edwin better than anyone now living. What I’ve just said stems from that very personal knowledge.”

“Do you wish to bear the Mark of Cain as well?” Judge Castor shouted as he leaned forward. “Do you want to start a war between us and the Covenant Sphere? Listen, Lightchild, either the Shadow Master dies today or else all hell really will break loose.”

“You’d lose,” Chris Alan said flatly.

“At what price to the galactic peace?” Judge Castor retorted. “I know you this well, Counsel: you’d never forgive yourself if you burned all the bridges that you and your people have built among the Treaty Powers – which is what you’d do, if you denied the principles you claim to live by.”

Chris Alan sighed and relaxed; the Light shining in his eyes and from his hands vanished. “Very well,” he said at length. “I wish for no war between us. Edwin Bitterroot is in your hands.”

If I am in their hands, Edwin wondered, then why is your Power level still sky-high?

“Prepare the launch,” Castor roared as the jury and the audience cheered. “We will see who is powerful here. Prepare the gravity gun and fire him into the sun.”

Edwin took up his harp, saying, “I guess this is my last song.” He sat on the bench inside the sphere.

Chris Alan hugged Autumn and Crystal, while Raphael kept the Hind ready for launch just in case.

“Drop him, drop him,” the jury and the audience chanted. Judge Castor held up his index finger in grand style.

“Any last words, Edwin?”

“Yes…I win.”

Infuriated, Judge Castor pressed the button.

“Alan!” Autumn screamed at the same moment.

For Chris Alan was already sailing across the courtroom in a high spinning arc above everyone’s heads. As the sphere dropped into the main tube of the gravity gun, Chris Alan dove headlong after it, leaving behind his family, Raphael, Shalhevetyah and the Hind.

As the sphere began to accelerate in the tube, Chris Alan caught up with the sphere and used his glowing hands to penetrate its surface. Once inside, he wrenched Edwin’s harp out of his hands and gripped the side of his arms hard. Sky-blue radiance surrounded them both.

Edwin hadn’t forgotten his martial arts skills – far from it – but the White Hand was overpowering him, making it impossible for him to move his body at his greatly reduced level of strength.

“What are you doing?!?” Edwin exclaimed.

“Saving your sorry hindquarters – what else?” Chris Alan replied. “Not to mention saving the whole Ring of Stars with you.”

“You can’t do this!”

“Think again, Edwin!”

The very next moment, the sphere emerged from the tube and headed straight for the disk of Romulus. As it drew closer to the star’s titanic and turbulent photosphere, everyone on Gehenna watched its progress with bated breath.

Edwin’s eyes began to glow green as the sphere approached the photosphere; a hissing sound began to come from his mouth. “Ahhh,” it said at last, “I feel the passageway opening! Soon I and the World Serpent will be free…What? What are you doing here, Starbright?”

“I warned you what would happen, Shet,” Chris Alan said sternly, “if you tried to suppress Edwin’s free moral agency. You’ve just let the Lord give me the key to stopping you from entering our Realm here and now.”

“Not even you can keep Romulus from consuming both of your bodies without the aid of your Guardian!”

“I don’t plan to stop that from happening,” Chris Alan replied as he felt the heat begin to soak in through the sphere’s shell. “All I need do is to keep you and Ouroboros from taking advantage of the situation. What Edwin does after this is up to him – assuming he survives.”

“No…no, it’s not fair…”

“Prepare to learn why I’m called the Undying Singer, Shet…and know when I revive that your doom is inevitable!”

In the next moment, in a puff of yellow and orange light, the sphere vanished.

Back on Gehenna, in the same moment, Raphael coalesced into Rest Mode and dropped to the deck.

*************

“Unfortunately,” Judge Castor said four days later, “nothing in our laws has any hold on you thanks to what you did. As a Special Ambassador, you have full diplomatic immunity in any case. Moreover, as far as every line of evidence we have can show us, Edwin Bitterroot is dead; his Shadow energy simply vanished with his body. But then, Romulus didn’t blow up or implode, so we have no proof of the validity of your warnings either.”

Chris Alan stood before Judge Castor’s bench, no longer as a Counsel for the Defense but as a defendant himself. Earlier that day, Christina and Autumn had to look on as Chris Alan suffered a show trial of his own, this time as conducted by the Centurions’ own notoriously stern counsels.

“Get off this station and out of Centurion space, by the fastest way,” Judge Castor snapped, “while we celebrate our return to normal lives. We are free, perhaps partly thanks to you – but know that you return here at the risk of provoking interstellar war, Treaty or no Treaty. Guards, let the Lightchildren take their weapons and their Guardians, and then escort them to their ship.”

The jury and the audience cheered as the three Lightchildren and their Guardians (with Crystal in Autumn’s arms) filed out of the courtroom.

“So your vaunted intuitions all turned out to be wrong after all,” gloated one of the guards.

“Were our intuitions wrong, Alan?” Autumn asked. Crystal was asleep in her arms by then.

“Everyone’s wrong sometimes, cousin.” Christina offered.

Chris Alan shook his head. “We weren’t wrong, Tina. We simply foresaw a possible future which I managed to help the Covenant Realm avoid. No, I still feel something is wrong here. It’s much more subtle, but such things can be even more dangerous than the obvious ones.” He sighed. “No, this is not the end of the Shadow Master. He will be back – depend on it.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” scoffed another guard.

“Pray that you do not,” said Chris Alan earnestly, and fell silent.