Cliff emerged first, walking easily, his head erect. He was dressed in a navy blue suit, long sleeved white shirt with gold cuff links, and maroon tie. With his wavy gray hair and craggy features, he looked every inch the distinguished brain surgeon he had once been. A step behind him came another man, also in a suit and carrying a briefcase, and Nicole assumed this was his attorney. As they came out into the dressing room area and Cliff turned to face the Major, Nicole saw the fresh bandage at the back of his neck.

Suddenly he turned and saw her. A smile broke out across the somber face, and he stepped quickly to her. “Ah, Nicole. I heard you had gotten away from Eric. I’m glad. I haven’t felt good about that whole thing from the very beginning.”

Before she could respond, the Major cut in curtly. “Dr. Cameron, it’s time to go. If you would follow me, please.”

“Yes,” he said, his eyes still on Nicole. “As we used to say in the old days, ‘On with the show.’”

As the group walked out into the bright sunshine, the silence of the crowd was almost stifling in its intensity. For one quick moment Nicole wondered about Eric. Had he made it down? Was he here? But then she saw the numerous orange uniforms scattered throughout the crowd and posted at nearly every exit, and she knew he could not have made it in, even if he had made it down from the mountain.

The procession of prisoner, lawyer, and Guardians proceeded to the center of the field, where some risers provided a platform about thirty feet by thirty feet. Several rows of chairs had been placed in front of it. On the platform were three tables, one large and imposing, two smaller ones side by side in front of the big one. To the left of the large table was a single row of chairs. A television camera crew was perched on the one corner of the platform, filming as the procession approached.

Nicole saw a second group of people, men and women, coming from the visiting-team tunnel. As she sat next to Clayne, they filed past and sat on the back row of chairs on the platform.

“Who are they?” she whispered.

“That’s the jury. The first jury to hear a criminal case in the history of Shalev.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, would you please rise?”

The Major spoke into a microphone in front of the risers as Travis escorted Clifford Cameron and his attorney to the first small table on the platform, then joined another man at the second table. Nicole assumed the man next to Travis was the prosecuting attorney. Behind them, the jury sat quiet and soberfaced.