'Not only possible, but imperative,' Zan'nh answered. 'We cannot let the robots have that world, Liege - or any of our worlds. Even if the few Ildirans there have been killed, we must take it back. It is part of our sacred Empire, part of the Saga of Seven Suns.'

Jora'h's expression grew steely. 'Yes, Adar. Yes, Yazra'h. It must be done. The treachery of the robots was a deep wound. After we drive the robots away, we will re-establish a full splinter colony there. Take the ships you need - and a rememberer, so that no one will ever forget what you are about to do. Ko'sh is the chief scribe in the Hall of Rememberers.'

Before Anton could breathe a sigh of relief, Vao'sh clasped his arm and pulled him a step forward. The old rememberer spoke in the loud, clear voice he used for reciting stories to large crowds. 'No, Liege. It should be me. I myself must face that dark set of memories. I will be their rememberer.'

Jora'h stood from his chrysalis chair. 'Are you certain? The previous ordeal nearly drove you mad. You barely survived.'

'No one is better suited, or more determined,' Vao'sh insisted. He kept his face carefully averted from his friend's. 'I need to do this.'

Anton had never wanted to go back to Maratha again and had hoped never to see another black robot in his life. But he couldn't abandon Vao'sh to face this alone. He couldn't believe what he was saying when he blurted, 'And I should go with him. We both have demons to face, fears to overcome. Besides, we're the two most qualified to witness this climax of a great tale.'

Yazra'h clamped a firm hand on Anton's shoulder, grinning proudly. 'I was sure you would be thrilled. But do not fear. I will protect you from the robots.'

Nine

Sirix

The extermination and sterilization continued on Wollamor. It would be the first of many worlds. One at a time.

Sirix participated in the satisfying hunt, chasing down victims and tearing them apart. He admired the random splash patterns of dried blood on his exoskeleton. Eventually, though, he subjected himself to a sandblasting scour, then a bath in solvents, and now his body gleamed again. He didn't care about his appearance, but he did want to operate at peak performance.

Back aboard his Juggernaut, Sirix entered the quarters formerly occupied by Admiral Wu-Lin. He drew satisfaction from having what had belonged to the human admiral. Millennia ago, Klikiss scientists had instilled in their robots the pride of possessing a thing, that way, after they were defeated, the robots could feel the pain of defeat and loss. Humans, however, had not programmed such concepts into their compies.

Sirix's attempts to understand compies had frustrated him. His finest test subject had been a Friendly compy called DD, to whom he explained how masters subjugated their servants. But when he finally freed DD from the insidious bonds to his human creators, the compy had chosen to escape rather than show his gratitude. A great disappointment.