It took a moment to process what he had just said. "What?"

"Jack, your problem is that you can't reconcile what is happening with your values. You love life. You want to protect the innocent. You love people. All good things. But you think you are in the beating heart of the enemies of life, helplessly watching while horrible things happen. As long as you cling to your old ideas of what life is, you will be miserable. But if you convert, you'll understand. We love life too. Eternal life."

"I'd rather die."

"I know you think that. But we are not going to let you die, Jack."

Without thinking, she kicked him, hard, and he dropped to the floor. She dove for the door, but it was locked. Absurdly, she was at the verge of screaming for Nirgal when Tier struggled to his feet, obviously no physical threat to her. Compassion was still burning in his eyes.

He kept his hands away from his body, made a placating gesture. "Jack. I'm not going to hurt you. I couldn't hurt you. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. You're not ready to hear about it."

She gave him a nod, but kept in a fighting stance.

"Look, I'll go. I'm sorry."

She hesitated. Nodded. Stepped away from the door. He rapped on it softly, and Nirgal opened it.

Something passed between the two men as they changed places, but she didn't understand it. Tier touched Nirgal's face as he left.

Great. So instead of being alone with the telepath I can beat up I'm alone with the ape I can't. But Nirgal didn't make a single move toward her, didn't try to say anything. Just stood stoically by the door.

She laid back down on the bed and closed her eyes, trying to think things through. Kept thinking of something a literature professor said about women in old stories committing suicide because there was no other way to assert themselves . . . someone else saying it was all about power . . . She fell into a half sleep filled with images of collapsing towers and enormous birds screaming.

She must have slipped into a full sleep, because one of the birds landed too close, cocked its head at her mockingly. Folded its wings, and turned into Kyra. Her voice was compassionate, but there was derision in her eyes. "You had a chance to be relevant today. If you can't handle it, get out of my way."

"But you're dead."

"Not as long as you are alive." Kyra's eyes were intense, love and anger and something else warring together. "Be me. All you have to do."

"I'm not you. I can't be you."

"You will be." Then Kyra was kissing her, filling her with butterflies and fear and a weakness that almost sent her to her knees. "Just let it happen. Don't fight. I'll make it all alright. I'll make it all up to you. Everything I did." Her voice fell to a hypnotic murmur. "Everything I did was for our people. Even the worst thing I ever did . . ."

Kyra's voice trailed off as Jack was woken by a door opening. Tier, with a strange smile on his face and something in his hands.

A needle. "This will help you calm down."

A lie. She flung herself off the bed, made a dive for the door. But just like before, Nirgal yanked her out of the air. She tried to scream, but his thick hand was over her mouth, almost suffocating. She knew with a sick certainty that Tier was going to take her to the conversion chambers, to hang by the neck until she was nothing more than another one of them.

"Jack, Jack, it's okay, it's okay," he soothed. "It's better than this world. Much better. Just let it happen. Please don't fight. All those awful things that happened to you won't happen to anyone once the Underverse wins. Life is cherished. It's better."

Some of the words were familiar but she didn't have time to figure it out. Nirgal eased his hand off of her mouth, and she was babbling. "Whether or not you're right, I have to chose, don't I? And I'm going to refuse. You can't make me convert." She felt Nirgal stiffen; had a wild flash of hope he might not go along with this.

Tier sighed. "Jack, maybe that's why I'm here. I'm not strong enough to overwhelm wills for long, but I can for long enough. Once we're there, I'll make it easy for you. Just let it happen . . ."

Nirgal eased his grip slightly, looked down at her, concerned. She understood, abruptly. He did this to Nirgal. And it's wearing off. She managed to gasp, "Nirgal, please don't do this." The needle was against her neck, but she was moving too much for him to get a good shot. "Nirgal, don't let him. Riddick doesn't want this." Nirgal kept gazing down at her, puzzled.

But she lost her chance. Tier laid his hand on Nirgal's face, and his faint concern vanished. He shifted his grip, pinning her head tight, and she felt the needle go in deep. Then Tier was stroking her face, softly, lovingly, his voice soothing. "The Lord Marshal wants you alive, Jack. You grieve. You are suicidal. You're not ready to hear about the bliss of the Necroverse, but we'll show it to you. Nirgal understands." She felt her body betray her; relax deeply.

"Please – please --- let me go--" Her voice was slurred. Her vision was blurring. She would have fallen but for the big man gripping her.

"Shhhhhh," Tier soothed, "We're going to do what I promised to do. Take you to that better world." He leaned close, whispered into her ear, low enough that Nirgal could not hear. "And after the Lord Marshal sees you happy there, maybe he'll follow."

She tried, feebly, to pull away. Crumpled. Nirgal lifted her into his big arms, and she didn't even struggle.

They carried her through the deserted section of the med deck to deserted corridors of the darkened city. In her numbed state, she was beginning not to care. They didn't seem to be passing anyone. She kept slipping back into the dream of being tied to an altar; a masked figure looming above her, bloodied knife raised high.

Nirgal finally spoke. "You sure 'bout this?"

"Yes."

"Conversion has to be voluntary."

"It will be."

"What does the Lord Marshal think?"

"He's busy." Tier reached a soothing hand toward Nirgal, who easily evaded it. The big man shifted his grip on her, looked at her eyes. She tried to shake her head violently. Barely moved her head.

"I'm gonna talk to him." Nirgal turned on his heel and started to move, fast, down the hall, gripping her tightly.

There was a pop, and he crumpled. The two of them fell in an ungainly heap. Something was dripping into her eyes, down her face, down her back.

Blood. Nirgal's blood. She was sticky with it.

Tier crouched beside her. "Nirgal was a good soldier. His place in the better world is assured." He was untangling her from the dead man's limbs, gently. She managed to kick out feebly.

"The drugs are beginning to wear off already?" He settled her against a corridor wall, and did something to Nirgal. She tried to stand. Failed.

He came back, Nirgal's belt, slick with blood, in his hands. "I'm sorry about this," he said, gently. "I know how hard this is going to be for you. But it's necessary. I can't have you fighting me. I'm not strong enough to help you do what you have to do right now. I need you not to hurt yourself until I'm ready again. You'll understand soon."

He used the bloody belt to tie her wrists behind her back. Her eyes were stinging with Nirgal's blood, and she couldn't even rub them. In her drugged state, she was mostly just mildly annoyed, though a part of her was raging.

She could hear him dragging Nirgal away. Then he was back. Picked her up with a mild oath, slung her over his shoulder, and carried her, far slower than before, down the hall.

Pentheselia's husband wanted to meet before he converted. Riddick wasn't interested. But the man had just handed him ten thousand war ships. Probably best to make nice. Met him in a nice conference room. Even made sure there was tea.

The man liked to talk. After almost an hour, Riddick called the interview to a halt, said they'd revisit post conversion. The man was led away, politely under the circumstances.

"Sire?" a tech called, unsure, as he left the conference room.

"What?"

Strange. The man was afraid. "Sire, your . . . lady is not in the med deck any more." He indicated the screen.

A chill trickled down Riddick's spine. The tracking device embedded in the necklace showed Jack was moving through back corridors. Running away?

"Contact Tier and Nirgal."

"I have tried. There's no response."

"Send who ever's closest to intercept." He gathered some of the men in the room with his eyes. "You're with me."

"Halt!" A sound of men. Jack felt a stirring of hope. Hope that Necros are going to rescue me from the Necroverse? Had to be a new side effect of the drug; she was giggling.

"Any closer, and I will kill her."

There was something hard poking into her temple. She regarded the prospect of it being a gun with amusement. Dying. That would be just the perfect ending to the evening. Riddick would be so pissed.

But everything was so very still. They were surrounded by people who were very unhappy, and she felt an outpouring of compassion for them. She could feel Tier's muscles trembling; he was not built for this. She felt pity for him too. And mild annoyance. He'd killed Nirgal, who she liked, and tied her up, which she didn't, and was taking her some place she did not want to go. She couldn't remember where it was they were going.

She could also feel her own muscles, coming back to life. Senses giving her sensible data. Pain. Awareness of her precarious, unbalanced position.

Compassion met irritation. What the hell. Worst case scenario, I'm dead. I can live with that. She giggled again, the sound filling the room. Then she twisted back and to the side as hard as she could, while kicking at his kidneys as hard as she could.

Wasn't very hard, but it didn't have to be. He stumbled, and she fell. She heard a pop, felt something hot pass her, and merciful blackness took her.

By the time Riddick arrived, the action was over.

The scene was maddening. Jack, unconscious, bound, bloody. A tech was bandaging her. Jack was not running away. She'd been taken.

He told her she would be safe.

His vision fixed on Tier, the man he sent to help her. The man he sent. To the girl he told he would keep safe. The man was also covered with blood. God, how much of that blood is hers? They were arresting him.

Fuck that. In one move he had shoved Tier hard against a corridor wall, feet off the ground, at eye level. Didn't say anything.

Tier's eyes were calm, his voice earnest, pitched low for his ears. "I was doing this for the Necroverse, sire. The Lord Marshal's lady must believe in the better world beyond. She must be one of us. Or she'll fill you with doubt and she will take you to the dark places."

Riddick snapped his neck before he could say anything else. Didn't want to give anyone else any ideas.

Watched as Jack was carried away. Went back to check on the integration of the Illium strike force.

She woke up, dark and warm, in someone's arms.

"Riddick?"

"Yeah, kid?"

She snuggled back into him. "I didn't do a good job playing a Necromonger, did I?"

Silence. A low chuckle. "You suck at being a Necromonger."

"Thanks, Riddick."

He wrapped his arms around her tighter.

Morning came. Riddick pulled himself out of bed quietly, thinking to let Jack sleep. He started to dress.

"Riddick, did I get shot?"

Guess she's awake, he thought. He wasn't really ready for this. He glanced at the mirror, saw her eyes were on him, had to see the bare muscles in his back tensing. He kept his voice calm. "Grazed. You'll be fine. Need to take it easy for a bit."

"It doesn't hurt."

"It won't."

He continued getting dressed.

"So . . . now what?"

He sat down on the bed, dressed except for his shoes. "What would you like to do, Jack?"

He had never asked her that before. She took one of his hand in both of hers, held it close to her face. Kissed it. His eyes closed for a moment.

"What happened to Tier?"

"Dead."

"Nirgal?"

"Dead when we got there."

"He was a good guy. He died for me."

"Not the first."

She startled. She did know that, didn't she? Johns. Fry. The crews of the Crowley and the Choming. He'd killed so many people on the way to New Mecca to keep her safe. And then those men that Kyra killed; all those men who died because he thought Kyra was her.

But most did not die in front of her. He tried hard not to kill in front of her. Maybe she didn't know.

She didn't ask. "I'm the only girl in the 'verse who was saved from the Necroverse by Necromongers, aren't I?"

"Probably."

"Am I a problem for you?"

"Nope."

"Can I stay with you today?"

He took a deep, shuddering breath. "Depends. I was going to have some folks sit with you today, here. Rather have you with me." He hooked an arm around her, pulled her closer. "Folks think you are a hero. Is that okay?"

"What did I do?"

"Saved tens of thousands of lives by figuring out their plan." His voice dropped. "I don't wanna worry you're going to throw yourself from a parapet when someone says something."

She laughed, a little. "I'm . . . not going to do that. I'm sorry I freaked out yesterday. It was all just too much."

He pulled her even closer, wanting to believe that was true.

"What happened with the Illium?"

"The strike force switched sides. They're with us now. Turns out they liked their princess. They were real pissed off someone put a bomb in her."

"Is she dead?"

"No."

She was caressing his hand, softly. "Are you going to attack her empire?"

"Yes. Soon as we integrate their strike force. Might try the propaganda thing too. That was kinda fun."

Her hand stilled.

"Jack. It's what we do." He hesitated, then said, trying to make it better. "They aren't good people. It's not a happy place for most people. They do bad things."

"Good people will die. And people who have never had a chance to be happy or good."

"Yeah. Most better off dead. I'll make it fast."

She gripped his hand, hard, then started stroking it again. Hesitantly, "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

Her hands were driving him crazy. "Like what?"

"I know how they think better than you do."

"Yesterday, you were suicidal because you were so horrified about where you are and what I do. Today, you wanna help me?"

She took a deep breath. "Had a lot of time to think last night. And you're right; it's better if it's you. And Tier was right about one thing. I need a job. I can't just sit in your rooms, being your pet. It's making me crazy. Okay, you make me crazy too, and the whole thing . . . but there's only one game in town . . . maybe I can figure out something from the inside."

He kissed her softly on the cheek. "Okay. I'll figure out something for you to do. Just . . . don't talk about that sort of thing with anyone but me, okay kid?"

"Not a chance."