Escape From Zulaire by Veronica Scott Page A

itself, at a vantage point opposite the roadblock where the unwary travelers had been caught. The road was clogged with vehicles and a large mass of people.
    “Looks like they forced the passenger vehicle off the road.” The captain stared at the scene below them through his distance-viewers. Slowly, he tracked along the line of the transportway.
    “How can you tell?” Andi eyed the road. All I see is a wrecked car and an angry mob.
      Wilson leaned in on her other side, speaking quietly right at her ear. “See how the two cargo haulers and the smaller car are angled on the near side of the road? They double-teamed the driver, boxed him in, caught nice as you please.”
    Tom lowered the viewers. “Priests weren’t expecting any trouble. Their vehicle looks like the high-end luxury model. Not built for speed.”
    Things have obviously deteriorated in the short time since Wilson and Rogers first reconnoitered the site . Andi scanned the scene. Two of the black-robed Sanenre priests now lay unmoving, covered with blood in the muddy roadside ditch. Two priests—one young, one elderly—remained standing on the elevated road. A half circle of jeering Naranti rebels loosely surrounded the pair, turning on these defenseless members of their own Clan. Trying to shield his companion from their assailants, putting his body in front of the older man, the younger priest extended his arms wide in a blocking motion. Judging by his gestures and attitude, he was arguing with the rebels.
    Burning fiercely, the boxy passenger vehicle was sending thick black smoke skyward. Andi eyed the car warily. I’m surprised the fuel tank hasn’t blown yet from the fire .
    Next minute, she stifled a scream as one of the men in the throng below raised his weapon and shot the younger priest at point-blank range, sending him staggering across the pavement. The old man tried unsuccessfully to catch him before he tumbled off the raised transportway into the ditch with his luckless fellows, coming to rest against their bodies.
    The remaining priest rose from where he’d fallen. Smoothing his robes, he stood quiet and calm in a half circle of shouting, heckling tormentors. There was no avenue of retreat.
    He looks really familiar. How do I know him? “Let me have the viewers.” She tugged at the strap around Tom’s neck. With some reluctance, he unlooped the viewers, ducking his head to get disentangled and then handing them over. After a moment fumbling with the adjustment, Andi peered across the ravine, focussing on the priest’s face, one glance confirming her suspicions as to his identity. “Serene Holiness Rahuna.”
    She dropped the viewers, clutching at Tom’s arm. “We have to save him.” Think, think, what can I say that will give him grounds to act? Taking a deep breath, Andi spread her fingers in a self-calming gesture.   “Look, Rahuna is the Pontiff of Sanenre, head of the planetary religion. He’s one of the few people on Zulaire respected by everyone .   All three Clans trust his word. If this war is going to be stopped, he’s the only man who can do it.”
    “She’s right, Captain.” Andi shot Abukawal a look of pure gratitude as he spoke up. “If Rahuna dies, there will be chaos. In time of Clan warfare, the Obati and Shenti are required by our gods to turn authority over to Sanenre’s Serene Holiness, who is always of the Naranti Clan. His neutrality is unquestionable.” Abukawal nodded toward the ugly scene on the road below them. “If the rabble kills Rahuna, there will be no one able to neutralize this crisis. It takes fifty days and nights of intense ritual for Sanenre to manifest the signs identifying the new religious leader.”
    “Anything could happen to Zulaire in fifty days.” Anxiety nipping at her nerves, Andi’s voice rose. “How can the rebels do this? They must know who he is, he’s one of their own people.”
    Tom took the viewers back from Wilson, who’d retrieved them from the ground. The