“This woman has RV-41,” Ellie had said quickly, sensing the panic in her friend. “She is one of my husband’s patients. She was in extreme pain and could not sleep, so we thought that an early morning walk might help… Now, if you’ll excuse us…”

The Tiasso had let them pass. Ellie and Eponine had been so frightened that neither of them had spoken for ten minutes.

Ellie had not seen the robots again. She had no idea whether or not an actual escape had been attempted. As the time for her mother’s execution now drew near and the auditorium seats around her began to fill, Ellie’s heart was pounding furiously. What if nothing has happened? she thought. What if Mother is really going to die in twenty more minutes?

Ellie glanced up at the stage. A two-meter stack of electronics, metallic gray, stood next to the large chair. The only other object on the stage was a digital clock that currently read 0742. Ellie stared at the chair. Hanging from the top was a hood that would fit over the victim’s head. Ellie shuddered and fought against nausea. How barbaric, she thought. How could any species that considers itself advanced tolerate this kind of gruesome spectacle?

Her mind had just cleared away the execution images when there was a tap on her shoulder. Ellie turned around. A large, frowning policeman was leaning across the aisle in her direction. “Are you Eleanor Wakefield Turner?” he asked,

Ellie was so frightened she could barely respond. She nodded her head. “Will you come with me, please?” he said. “I need to ask you a couple of questions.”